Shire Bottom Chronicles

Chapter Ten

Ghosts...it was a word Church heard nearly a dozen times from the patients that streamed into his office today. Their stories were all pretty much the same, but Church had no answer for the sudden manifestation of ghosts roaming the streets of Shire Bottom last night. The likelihood of his patients experiencing a mass psychosis was rare. Church wasn't sure if he believed in ghosts, but he couldn't deny that something unusual was going on. He stared at the patient reports on his desk, trying to figure out an explanation. A knock on the door shattered the silence and Church nearly fell out of his chair.

"Are you ready to lock up for the evening?" His wife Constance stood in the doorway, her purse slung over one arm. "Bernard just called, he and Dexter are celebrating their anniversary tonight and he wants me to watch the boys."

Constance's brother Bernard and his husband Dexter had four sons; Colin, Wallace, Tristan, and Heathcliff. Colin was nineteen, and they had adopted him when he was a baby. Constance had given birth to the younger three as a surrogate. She focused so much on her nephews that she and Church never started a family of their own.

"Why can't Colin watch them? I thought we could get dinner and see a movie." Church sighed. He walked across the room and put the reports away in a filing cabinet before shutting off the light and joining Constance in the hallway.

"Colin has a date too." Constance laughed. "He's going out with Sabrina Foster."

"I've been looking forward to a night in," Church insisted, opening his mouth to speak again before the phone rang through the office. He rolled his eyes, picking up the phone. Constance shot him a dirty look. She was sure whatever it was could wait. Before Church could say a word, the person on the other line began talking frantically. Church couldn't make out exactly who it was or what they were saying, but the person sounded panicked. "Slow down. Who is this?"

"It's Drusilla Karr, you told me to call if I needed anything," the female voice said quickly and quietly, as though she were hiding from someone. There was a loud thud in the background, and Drusilla's breath audibly quickened. "I need your help. Please help...I need your help."

"Drusilla, I need you to tell me where you are and what is going on," Church said, trying to remain calm. He knew from their appointments that Drusilla had a habit of faking being attacked or hurt to get people to come to her rescue.

"I found something and now they're after me," Drusilla whispered into the phone, as the sound of a door slamming echoed on the other end of the line. "It wasn't supposed to be found."

"What did you find?" Church demanded, knowing that if he played into her delusion, it would only make things worse. If he could find out what she thought she was in trouble for finding, he could talk her down.

"The book," Drusilla continued; she suddenly stopped talking and all Church could hear was breathing. "I'm going to bring it to you. I think I can sneak past the man downstairs."

Before Church could respond, he heard the phone hit the floor and footsteps running away. It was only a couple of seconds before gunshots rang out through the line.

"Drusilla?" Church yelled into the phone. He heard the phone being picked up before the call was disconnected. "Constance, call the cops."

* * *

It was pitch-black outside when the cops finally arrived at Drusilla's apartment. The wind outside was howling through the apartment, and it looked as though the living room window had been shattered. Drusilla was nowhere to be found, although there were obvious signs of a struggle. The glass coffee table was shattered, all of the furniture had been torn apart, and blood was splattered across the walls and carpet. It was clear by the way the apartment was tipped upside down that whoever broke in was looking for something.