The Caretaker - 6. Chapter 6

Using a dagger, Chris shoved the tip into the cuff around my wrist. With a sharp turn, the cuff snapped open and it fell to the floor. Before the metal even clanged onto the concrete, Chris was standing over me. He had his fighting stick, still painted neon blue like a lightsaber.

“Touch him, and I will kill you,” Chris said through gritted teeth. “Though I may do that anyway.”

In the corner cell, the lupoid had awoken. It shook off the dirt like a dog, snarling and slobbering as it clamored to get out of the locked cage.

I heard Grant calling out my name from the open door the caretaker had come through. Just as he reached the bottom of the steps, the caretaker flicked his hand. The door slammed shut.

Grant pounded on the door from the other side. “Hudson! Chris!”

The caretaker clicked his tongue while slowly shaking his head. “My poor boy. You can’t kill me. You’ve sworn to protect me. And this.” He waved his finger above his head in a circle.

“That was before.” Chris’s eyes narrowed. “When the circle and the garden flourished, before you turned and corrupted everything with your filth.”

Garden? I remembered when we were younger going to family outings with Grant and his family. Many times we celebrated birthdays and anniversaries in this idyllic garden outside the city. Located next to an old church and small cemetery, the circular garden was beautiful—abundant with rich plant life, perpetually blooming flowers, birds, bees…

Even the cemetery was well-tended. Each plot was covered in thick grass and the headstones were always adorned with fresh flowers. Nothing spooky here.

A few years ago we stopped going.

Was this basement under the church there?

“You were like the boy I never had,” the caretaker said as he moved toward the pot on his workbench. The pot had split apart, its dirt overflowing the broken pieces. In the middle grew this black, twisted… cactus? I had no idea what it was. “I tried to tell you there was more out there. The order was holding you back. They still are.”

“I saw what you did.”

“If you only knew the power—”

“Save it, Darth.”

The caretaker slipped his hand into the dirt spilled from the pot. The prickly thing growing from it began to twitch and expand. One of the cactus arms extended outward, its end turning into a clawed hand.

“Get your hand away from that,” Chris ordered.

“And how will you stop me?” The caretaker waved his fingers and the iron cell door flew open. Without hesitating, the lupoid leapt at Chris.

Chris snapped his pole, knocking the lupoid square on the chin. It quickly recovered and lunged again, swiping its deadly claws at Chris. He parried, then attacked back.

While Chris was busy fending off the beast, the Caretaker concentrated on growing another beast in the dirt pot. The thing now had a head and two arms. If he kept it up, there would be two lupoids, and Chris wouldn’t be able to stop them both.

The purple haze around the caretaker diminished as he worked.

“Chris, the caretaker’s aura is weakening.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Chris grunted as he shoved his stick up between the lupoid’s legs, hitting its balls hard enough to make it yelp. “Kinda busy here.”

The new lupoid was growing at a rapid pace. It now was fully developed from the waist up, and was growing bigger by the second. It clawed at the workstation, trying to pull itself free from the dirt. The caretaker’s aura pulsed and waned. He would soon need to… recharge?

“What’s your problem, fuzzy nuts?” Chris mocked the lupoid. That only made it more angry.

Chris cried out as one of the lupoid’s claws made contact with his chest. Chris countered with a kick, sending the lupoid thrashing against the wall. It quickly righted itself and charged.

Stepping around Chris, I ran to the shelf and picked up the box.

“Get back and call off your dog!” I shouted as I backed away, clutching the box to my chest.

The caretaker’s eyes grew large. Enraged, he screamed, “Pet! Kill him! Now!”

The snarling lupoid tried to leap over Chris, but Chris smacked the shit out of it with his lightsaber. “Run, Hudson!” he cried as he tried to push the beast away from me.

Still locked out of the room, Grant pounded on the door to no avail, doubling his efforts after hearing the caretaker.

Opening the box, I pulled the rotting root free, letting the box fall to the ground and shatter on the concrete floor.

“No!” the caretaker shouted. Abandoning his task, he ran for me.

I squeezed the root, wringing it with my hands. The smell of putrid decay slapped me in the face as black slime and wriggling worms seeped from the thing, oozing between my fingers.

“Oh my god,” I cried as I choked back the bile rising in my throat.

Using every ounce of strength I had in me, I broke the root into two.

The caretaker sucked in a loud breath as his body contorted. The purple aura around him expanded in a burst bright enough to light the entire room.

And then it was gone.

The old man withered before my eyes as he fell on top of me, sending me to the ground. I tried to push him off me, but he was heavier than he looked, and now we were face to face. The caretaker’s eyes were clouded with cataracts. The scowl left his face as his features softened. He drew in a series of shallow breaths. The corner of his mouth turned up.

He covered my face with his hands, holding me down with all of his weight.

I couldn’t get free.

It was dark.

I couldn’t breathe.

In the blackness, a green spark took shape. It grew until it became a blinding light.