Detective Lane

“Please! Somebody help me!”

The splashing of pounding footsteps through the rainy alley in Cygnet, Ohio muffled the cry in the night. The calming pitter patter of rain against the pavement and metal rooftops was disrupted with an anguished scream.

Lights flickered on in the houses down the nearby street.

“Help me!” a shrill scream sliced through the alley. “He’s going to kill her! Somebody, please!”

A porch light dimly flickered, followed by an elderly woman peeking out the front door. Out of the corner of her eye, the woman spots a child running towards her in the rain.

“Please help me!” the child wailed. As the old woman struggled to see the small figure in the night, the street light suddenly revealed the real nightmares the night can hide.

“Oh, oh my god,” the woman backed up slowly as the horrific sight unfurled before her eyes.

Eight Hours Earlier

A slender young woman pulled her 2008 Ford Escape into a podunk gas station and parked next to the pump. The sky was churning with dark clouds, and the sun pierced through the barrage of nimbostratus just enough to make her blonde hair shine. The clouds shifted, and a row of missing posters picturing at least five different young women against the nearby fence illuminated but for only a passing moment. As she pulled out her debit card, her keys slipped out of her hand and fell to the ground. Crouching, she heard heavy footsteps behind her.

Thwack.

Her ears rang horrendously as her eyes grew heavy. Blood smeared across the rear door window as her face was propelled into it. Red streaks stain her golden hair.

Thud.

Unconscious, she crumpled to the ground. A gloved hand gently brushed the hair from her face. The tip of the finger caressed her jawline, and then quickly grabbed her throat. She was lifted to her feet by the tight grip around her throat as the assailant simultaneously dragged her to the lift gate. It opened, and her body was shoved into the back. Her hands were tied behind her body, the storage cover pulled into place, and the gate slammed closed.

Her debit card was swiped into the card reader, and then promptly slipped into the pocket of a worn, black Northface jacket. Ten dollars worth of gas was poured into the gas tank. The leather gloves gripped the grey steering wheel, and the Escape exits onto the side road.

A plastic bag swirled in the wind, and the small town fell back asleep.

Two Hours After The Kidnapping

“Chief,” a deep voice boomed as the door to Chief Detective Greg Harland’s office violently swung open, “I got bad news.”

The middle-aged man looked up from his paperwork and sighed.

“Please tell me you’re not quitting on me, Riley,” Greg sat his coffee down, and sat up straight in his chair.

Officer Riley Thornton closed the door behind him, and sat in the empty chair in front of the desk. “Just got another call,” he said remorsefully.

“Fuck,” his face softened as he held his forehead in his hand, “that makes three in just the last two months.”

“He’s escalating, sir,” Riley laid a grainy still of a gas station security footage. “The sick fuck nabbed her in broad daylight.”

“Jesus, is that a cinder block in his hand?” Greg picked up the photo and examined it closer. “He’s not even planning things anymore. This is bad, kid.”

They both stared at the photo briefly, stood up, and briskly exited the door.

A giant cork board had a map of the surrounding areas on the back wall of the office. Photos of fifteen women were tacked with a ten year timeline below them. At the beginning of the timeline, there are longer gaps of time between the women. The gap then was exponentially closer together in the last year, as five women have gone missing in the last seven months. Red circles and X’s are scattered across the map. A rough forensic sketch of a bulky white man was the only item tacked under the “Potential Suspects” headliner on the right side of the map.

Time was running out.

Four Hours After The Kidnapping

Two eight year old girls giggle softly to each other as they quietly sneak out the back door. Wearing their matching detective outfits from last Halloween, the twins, Lara and Lisbeth, set out on their first real case.

They had been planning their stake out for months, and tonight was the big night. Ever since their dad introduced them to Sherlock Holmes, the girls have been obsessed with becoming detectives. They practiced hiding each others’ toys and leaving clues, honing their observation and deduction skills. Frequent flyers at the local library, the girls read every mostly kid-friendly detective book they could find. Their favorite stories always had an unnatural or paranormal twist - the unknown was always so exciting.

Sliding the loose board on the fence, the twins slip out of the backyard and into the dark.

After getting far enough away from the house, they turned on their flashlights simultaneously without looking at each other, and laughed together.

“I knew we could do it!” giggled Lara.

“We’re going to be the best detectives ever!” Lisbeth threw her arms in the air and then did a little dance. “Those box car kids don’t have -”

“Anything on us!” they shouted in unison.

“Not once we solve the Haunting of the Old Harper House! Then, we will be the most famous detectives ever!” Lara grabbed her sister’s hand and guided them into the woods.

A dense fog curled and flicked around the rocks and exposed tree roots beneath their feet, making the trek through the brambles slow and, somewhat, tedious. Creatures of the night shook the tree branches above them, almost seemingly following the twins through the woods.

“It’s a lot scarier in here than I thought it would be…” Lara trailed off. They squeezed each other’s hands tightly.

The half moon illuminated through the treetops as the clouds began to clear. Crickets rejoiced with a song, and the girls felt more at ease. They followed the light, and reached the very edge of the woods. In the clearing, the old, abandoned house stood eerily in front of them. Every window appeared to be broken, the brittle white paint was flaking off in chunks, and ivy crept its way up to the old, tin roof.

“Well, it definitely looks haunted,” Lisbeth muttered under her breath as she shut off her flashlight.

“Oh, it is absolutely haunted. I heard…” Lara leaned in close to Lisbeth, flickering her flashlight on and off. “Lis, I heard that a whole family was murdered in there. On a spooky night, just like this one, the Harper family slept snuggly in their beds.”

Lara clicked the flash light on.

“And then something…” the flashlight clicked off.

“Terrible happened!” they both chimed.

Lara quickly turned on the light and waved it in front of her sister’s face, laughing.

“Cut it out! That’s so bright!” Lis covered her eyes with her hands. “You’re gonna wake up the ghosts and ruin our investigation!”

Still laughing, Lara turned it off. Lis groaned in frustration.

“This is very serious, you dummy.” Lisbeth adjusted her hat, and pulled the magnifying glass out of her pocket. “We have to figure out the truth. The police in this town are as useful as glitter without glue, a-”

“I love glitter!” interrupted Lara.

Sighing, Lis continued, “Me too, but if you don’t have glue it’ll get lost in the carpet.”

She crouched into a proper investigative posture, one which would surely cause her back problems in the future, and put the magnifying glass in front of her eye.

“As I was saying, we are going to find out which rumors are true, and come up with our own leads and suspects. I think the police clearly missed a lot of clues.”

“And then we’ll solve the murders and get our own movie!” Lara chimed in.

“Well, we would have to write a book and probably a screenplay first,” she said, lowering the magnifying glass from her face. “But let’s focus up. So the three main theories are this,” Lisbeth places the glass in her pocket, and points her right index finger in the air.

“Theory number one: a prisoner escaped from a jail not too far away, and came to murder the family so he could steal their stuff. I heard they had a really fancy car, like a Cam..Ca..Chameleon or something. Anyway,” she shrugged, “they never found any evidence he was here, and they never found the guy.”

“What was his name?” asked Lara.

“Uh…” Lis thought about it for a moment.

“It was something evil… like Fred, maybe.”

“Fred… is an evil name?” Lara questioned, giggling a little bit.

“Of course. Fred, it stands for Freaky Really Evil Dude, so l-”

“Oh. My. God.”

“Fred really is an evil name,” the girls said at the same time; Lara in awe of her sister’s intelligence, Lisbeth already knowing what her sister was going to say.

Lis laughed, “Yes, it is. Anyway, onto the next theory!”

Her middle finger flung in the air, pleasant company for her index finger.

“Theory number two: Mr. Harper’s brother was madly in love with Mrs. Harper. She was so pretty that-”

“What was his brother’s name? Is it evil too?” Lara piped up, and then covered her mouth with her hands before she even saw her sister’s visible frustration.

“Of course he had an evil name! I think it was… uh, Henry. You know, Hateful Evil Nasty Rotten Yuppie.”

As Lisbeth goes to continue her story, Lara quickly uncovers her mouth.

“What’s a yuppie?”

“You know,” Lis paused, “I’m not sure, but it’s definitely not good.”

The twins shrug in unison.

“So Henry was so jealous of his brother because his wife was beautiful. She would smile and people would throw roses at her, that’s how pretty she was.”

She paused, and they both drifted briefly into a daydream of a beautiful woman surrounded by flowers. Then she continued.

“And one day, Henry came over while everyone was sleeping and stabbed everyone but Mrs. H and tried to carry her to his car. But she wasn’t just pretty, she was also strong and fought him back as hard as she could! She punched him and kicked him,” she jabbed and kicked at the air, “but he was still too strong. And he stabbed her too,” Lis stood up straight again.

“But, they also never found any evidence that Henry was here. I guess the police found some hair, and it didn’t match Fred or Henry,” she kicked at the ground, “but maybe we can find something they missed!”

“I bet I know what the last theory is,” smirked Lara.

Lisbeth’s ring finger stood proudly with the other two.

“Theory number three: aliens,” the girls said together. Lis wiggled her fingers and they both made a spooky ghost noise, “ooOOooOohh!”

Lara, full of hope and excitement, asked, “We might actually find aliens?!”

Lis giggled and put her hands at her side, “I don’t think so, but that’s what some people think. I heard someone saw a U.F.O. and a tractor beam pull the whole family through the roof. Like this, whooooosh,” she turned on her flashlight, and shined it on a leaf in her hand as she slowly raised it into the air.

“I didn’t know tractors could do that. I thought they just mowed corn,” Lara muttered as she watched with amazement.

“I guess aliens have cooler tractors than we do. But yeah, they got pulled into the sky, and then there was a huge flash of light and a super loud boom,” she clicked the flash light on and off several times and imitated a bomb explosion.

“Then, the police found all the bodies back in their beds, stabbed, right in their hearts. Except for Mrs. H, who they found on the stairs. They think she tried to fight the aliens, and almost escaped, but they got her right on the stairs.”

Lara quietly asked, “The police really think it might be aliens? I don’t know how to fight an alien..”

Lisbeth touched her sister’s shoulder gently, internally feeling her anxiety and offering her some comfort, “Nah, that’s just what the internet people think happened. The police thought it was one of those two guys, but never actually found out who did it.”

Lara nodded her head, and put both her hands on Lisbeth’s shoulders. “And that’s why we are on the case!”

“Yes! Now, let’s get down to the case. Do you have the camera, Lara?”

Lara reached into her pocket, and pulled out an old Polaroid camera. “Yep! I even put the strap on it,” she swung the strap over her hat and around her neck. The camera slapped gently against her stomach. Lara raised her thumb in the air, ready for action.

“Okay, perfect! Your job is to take pictures of anything suspicious and put the picture in your pocket for safe keeping. I’ll hunt out the clues with this,” she grabbed the magnifying glass out of her pocket, “and record the ghosts’ answers on this!” From the other pocket, she pulled out a tape recorder.

“Yes! We are gonna solve this mystery tonight!” Lara jumped up and down a few times, and then abruptly stopped. “So wait, we just ask the ghosts how they died and they’ll tell us?”

The girls began walking toward the back door of the house, their footsteps perfectly in sync, as it creaked open and slammed closed in the wind. Dark clouds started clustering together in the sky, and the air felt a bit colder.

“Yes, we ask the ghosts themselves. They’ll tell us what happened, and where to find the clues. Apparently, the ghosts scream all the time here. Billy said he rode his bike past here the other week, and he heard a woman screaming and crying.”

Lara grabbed Lisbeth’s hand once more.

“Okay,” Lis took a deep breath, turning her head to look at her sister, “let’s go.”

They slowly opened the door, and walked inside.

The pungent odor of death stops them just steps into the mud room. Both girls pinch their nostrils and make soft gagging sounds.

“It smells so bad in here,” whispered Lara.

“I know,” replied Lisbeth as she gagged, “I didn’t think it would smell so bad after all this time. It’s been like, at least twenty years I think.”

They slowly moved the lights around the room, breathing as little as possible. The light revealed broken tile, water-soaked wooden trim, and dirty, shredded wallpaper. A mouse scurried across the floor, startling the twins. Just as they try to muffle their screams, a loud, agonizing wail echoed through the empty halls.

They were frozen with fear. Without looking at each other, they both had the exact same thoughts and stomach-churning feelings.

This is bad.

The screaming stopped, and an uneasy silence fell over the house. Lis grabbed the recorder, ready for action. She pushed softly against the record button.

“H-hello?” squeaked Lisbeth.

The twins were silent and still. No response.

“Let’s keep looking, Lara.”

“O-okay. I guess so…” Lara trailed off, her hands shaking as she held the camera.

Sneaking down the hallway, they kept a sharp lookout for anything spooky. But with the state of disrepair the house was in, it was hard to tell what was normal, and what could be a clue. They crept through the dilapidated kitchen, glanced around the dirty living room, and halted at the edge of the worn stairs.

The air was still, yet thick with dread. It felt heavy, and hard to breathe.

Gulping in unison, the twins carefully climbed the stairs. Each step careful to not make too much noise.

“Mrs. Harper? Are you here with us?” Lisbeth asked softly.

A soft groan came from the rooms upstairs.

“Did…” Lara grabbed Lisbeth’s arm.

“Did you hear that?” they asked each other.

The both nodded, and Lis motioned for Lara to follow her up the rest of the stairs. They reached the top, and the girls heard crying.

“Please…” a wheezy voice begged.

Lara snapped a photo of the hallway, grabbed it, and fanned the photo nervously. Lis held out her trembling left hand, holding the recorder further away from her body.

“Turn off the flashlights,” Lara whispered, “I think it’s making the lighting weird on the pictures.”

The lights clicked off, and the girls walked further down the hallway. They passed the first door on the right, and heard crying in front of them.

Click.

Another photo jutted out from the camera and Lara waved it rapidly.

A loud gasp for air was followed by, “Help…”

Lis quietly walked toward the second door on the right, and peered through the keyhole.

A muscular, shirtless man stood over a naked woman laying on the floor, holding a bloody knife in his right hand. Breathing heavily, his left hand grabbed her throat and choked her. Her eyes opened wide with fear as she kicked her legs and scratched at his hand and arm. Blood spurted from a wound ripping down her sternum, and dripped off the tip of the blade as the man raised his arm further in the air. Her blonde hair from her ears down was stained red.

Lisbeth’s eyes watered as she quietly gasped. She couldn’t look away.

She saw everything. The bloody clothes. The ripped sheets. The ropes. The two trash bags. The head and assorted limbs sticking out of the trash bags. The hate. The absolute terror.

Lara closed her eyes and saw the flashes of the hellscape currently tormenting her sister. She squeezed Lisbeth’s hand, and tried to pull her away from the door.

The woman saw an eye peeking into the room, and Lis could tell she had been seen. Quickly, she jerked away from the door, releasing her sister’s hand, as a blood curdling scream managed to escape from the poor woman’s body.

“Run!” Lisbeth attempted to whisper, but ended up yelling. She took off down the hall toward the left side bedrooms, and Lara turned back towards the stairs. Heavy footsteps raced to the door, a strong hand threw the door open, and he immediately spotted Lara running down the stairs.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?” he roared, sprinting toward the stairs.

The blade glinted from the moonlight shining in through the broken window. Lara screamed as she took a photo of him, stuffed it into her pocket, and ran down the rest of the stairs.

He groaned as the flash temporarily blinded him, “I’m going to kill you, you nosy little bitch! GET BACK HERE!” Rubbing his eyes, he started to run down the stairs, and shortly thereafter, tumbled down the remaining flight of stairs.

Squelch.

The knife ripped into the man’s flesh as he landed on the floor.

Lara quickly dashed into the kitchen, grabbed a rusty knife, and sat inside the empty sink cabinet, closing the door after she entered. Meanwhile, Lisbeth had managed to get into the far bedroom on the left, holding her shaking hand over her mouth. Tears streamed down her cheek.

Almost like a voice in their head, both sisters heard each other say, “Stay hidden.”

The man was still at the bottom of the steps.

Lis slowly opened the bedroom door and walked towards the door with the room full of horrors. Every fiber of her being told her to just run. Leave. Get out of there.

Help her, Lis heard in her head.

She looked back into the bloody room. The woman gasped, choking on her own blood.

“Help me.”

Instincts kicked in, and Lisbeth ran to the woman. She grabbed some sheets off the bed, and placed them over the wound.

So. Much. Blood.

All over the woman, all over Lisbeth’s hands and now her face, blood was everywhere. The woman’s hands were tied, and Lis cried as she untied the ropes. The woman cried with her as she was freed.

Grabbing her hand, Lisbeth helped pull her to her feet, and led her toward the door.

“Uuuugghh,” he woke up.

Lis, wide-eyed, stared up at the woman. The sheet was soaking up blood from her chest, and also a bit further down by her legs. She brought her finger up to her lips slowly, tears fell almost as quickly as her blood.

They could hear him struggling to stand back up.

“When I get you, you little bitch I’ll - oh fuck…” he muttered something they couldn’t hear.

The bloody woman and shell-shocked child slowly walked closer to the stairs as they heard him tumble toward the living room. Lisbeth could hear her heartbeat in her ears. Her hands were so sweaty, she almost dropped the tape recorder. More muffled noises appeared to be coming from the living room. Lis grabbed the woman’s hand, and slowly guided her down the stairs.

“When I find you, I’m gonna-”

He stopped. And stared directly at Lisbeth and the woman at the bottom of the stairs. Time stood still. They seemed to all be staring at each other for an eternity. Sounds ceased to exist. They were trapped in this moment. The fate of all in the room depended entirely on the next move from everyone involved. Lisbeth let go of the woman’s hand.

“Run,” she broke the silence, and time skyrocketed back to the present.

He growled and bared his teeth like a rabid beast as he clamored furiously toward them. Blood flowed down his abdomen as he tore out the knife.

Lis took off down the hallway towards the mudroom, and the woman screeched like a banshee with all the strength she had left.

Torn between the two, he diverted his course from Lis to the woman, and she hobbled as best as she could back up the steps. He reached the bottom step, hesitated, and turned back around, chasing Lisbeth down the hall.

Tearing through the kitchen, she screamed as she ran through the door into the mudroom. She knocked over every item she easily could as she ran.

Run.

Lara opened the cabinet door, and stumbled to her feet, still holding the rusty knife. He ran into the kitchen holding his stomach with his left hand and knife in the right, and roared at Lara as Lisbeth sprinted out the open back door of the mudroom, unseen by the deranged madman.

Lisbeth ran faster than she ever had before.

“You fucking little- aaaaaaaaah!” Lis heard the scream fade as she reached the edge of the woods. Rain kissed her bloody clothing as she stopped to turn on the flashlight. She kept running, and then she heard it. Maybe she felt it first.

Lara. Screaming. Pain. Fear.

She stopped and screamed, clutching her chest she fell to her knees. The flashlight and recorder plummeted into the mud. Lis closed her eyes and saw an old knife dig into a hairy leg. And then she saw the blade in his hand swing swiftly towards her.

Death.

This is it, she thought to herself. This is how we die.

Keep running.

She stood up, smearing blood across her face as she wiped the tears away.

RUN.

Lisbeth ran as fast as she could through the treacherous woods. Stumbling, falling, crying, she made her way back into town. Her blood covered detective hat hung from the limb that snagged it at the brink of the forest, swinging gently in the drippy breeze.

Crying, sprinting, begging, Lis had to get help. Anyone. Someone. Help.

The world seemed to be spinning, images flashed through her mind of Lara in that house. With him. Hurt. Terrified.

Help.

Streetlights. Spinning. Death.

Help.

Pattering rain, spinning, old woman, bleeding, crying… Lara.

And suddenly, a towel is wrapped around Lisbeth’s shoulders. An old woman cried as she wiped off the blood from the child’s face.

Sirens.

Time seemed to leap forward, and she found herself in the backseat of a police cruiser.

“The ol’ Harper place?” asked the officer with a deep voice. He seemed so far away.

She felt herself nodding, but she wasn’t really there with him. Lisbeth was with her, Lara. For one last moment, they were together.

And then she was alone.

The car stopped, and her breath left her entire body. It seemed to take her soul with it.

“She’s… gone.”

The officer turned around and saw the terrified little girl in the back roll onto the seat and sob.

Taking immediate action, he turned off the safety on his gun, and stormed into the decrepit haunted house.

She was alone in the dark.

A gunshot fired off in the house, and the once abandoned drive way was littered with patrol cars, ambulances, and a fire truck. The man was cuffed, now bleeding from his leg and right arm, and dragged into an ambulance.

The first officer on the scene, Officer Thornton, carried out the woman in his arms, and handed her to the EMS. People rushed in and out of the house, and several took a detour to vomit in the bushes. A gurney was rushed into the house, and shortly returned with a small, sheet-covered body occupying the previously empty bed. Several officers brought out bags of body parts, followed by more vomit.

She was alone.

Two Years Later

Lisbeth stood nervously in front of the crowd. She was about to speak in front of the town, the media, the world. Cameras flashed, and hushed reporters prepped the virtual audience for what they were about to hear.

Lara Lane died shortly before the authorities arrived. The victim, Marie Blaire, lived after an extended stay in the ICU. The two women in the trash bags were identified as the recently missing women, Stacy Gilman and Veronica Johnson. The police conducted an extensive excavation of the abandoned house and surrounding land on Cryme Drive - the Old Harper House. They found the desecrated remains of five additional women: Martha Morrigan, Ashley Daugherty, Jenny Thomas, Haley Switzer, and Jessica Rodman. Several bone fragments were also found, but not identified as belonging to any of the other missing women.

Martin Lee Gough was arrested and convicted of 7 accounts of murder in the first degree, 8 counts of sexual assault, 7 counts of torture, 1 count of attempted homicide, and 1 count of capital murder of a minor. He received the death penalty, and is currently waiting to hear back on his appeal.

Lisbeth Lane saved Ms. Blaire, and countless lives that would have been taken in that old, forsaken house. Gough had been using the rumor of the haunting to conduct his heinous crimes there for over ten years. Law enforcement believed he killed more than fifteen young women in the house, but could only find the remains of seven.

He refused to reveal any other information.

The chatter ebbed as Chief Detective Harland introduced Lis, and invited her to the podium. Her heart raced as she stepped forward. All eyes were on her, the brave girl who stopped the reign of a terrifying serial killer.

She took a deep breath, and felt as if her sister was with her once again as a calming feeling trickled through her. Lis opened her eyes, and read the speech she prepared for the conviction hearing.

She was stoic, although she was barely tall enough to see over the podium. The audience was silent, wiping away intermittent tears as Lis struggled to keep her composure. She voiced the pain and mental anguish she has suffered since that fateful day. The terror, flashbacks, and overwhelming hate. And she also expressed her thankfulness to authorities, and gratefulness for the justice they had so far received.

But there is still justice to be served to the other families of Gough’s remaining victims.

Lisbeth ended her speech with a promise to the world:

“I will not stop investigating this crime until we find all the poor women he hurt, and give their families peace. Lara and I sought out to be the best detectives ever, and I refuse to let her down. I will find justice. For Lara.”