Blame

The Mask

It was about 10:00 p.m. when Elizabeth started heading for Charlie's house, which was the earliest she could leave because clean up took longer than usual.

She walked out of the field that the tent had set up in, slipping past a few troupe members that were heading back to the train.

She passed through the little cluster of buildings that she had seen the night prior, spotting that hardware store, the restaurant that Jesse had dragged her into, a drug store, a bar, some sort of mask shop...

Elizabeth paused when she was in front of the mask shop. 

She got that uncomfortable, shudder-inducing feeling for no reason at all.

Sure, there were a few other people nearby, but none of them were even relatively close to her.

"P-paranoid... I'm paranoid."

Elizabeth continued walking, completely zoning out until she was on the street where Charlie's house stood. She pulled the napkin out of her pocket, making sure that she knew which house number she was looking for.

She passed one house, then two, then three, then four...

The fourth house had a cheap-looking clown mask laying in their yard, which gave her that feeling yet again.

She stopped in front of the fifth house.

It was rather small and there was an old, beat-up car sitting in the driveway.

Elizabeth didn't really even notice those things, though. She was too focused on the fact that all of the lights were off and the front door was wide open.

Immediately knowing that something was not right, Elizabeth hurried across the yard, coming to a halt when she was right in front of the door. She was a little hesitant to just walk right inside.

The wood of the doorframe was splintered near the striker plate, which was hanging on by one screw.

There were a number of incredibly smudged bootprints on the front of the door near the handle.

From what she could see of the small living room, everything appeared to be a mess.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and finally stepped inside.

The entire house was dead quiet and try as she might, Elizabeth couldn't make out anybody in the darkness.

She called out Charlie's name, only to receive silence in response.

She found a light switch and tried to turn it on, but the house did not become any less dark.

"O-okay... the lights d-don't work..."

Clink.

Elizabeth pulled her lighter out and began looking for any signs of Charlie.

After a few minutes of searching, she found some blood spatter on the carpet.

It was still fresh.

If it was Charlie's (she hoped it wasn't), then where was she?

A strong breeze hit Elizabeth in the face.

She could hear blinds rattling.

The sliding glass door was wide open too.

Pushing her way past the blinds, Elizabeth hastily made her way into the small backyard.

A tiny, old, rickety tool shed stood before her.

Maybe Charlie was in there?

As she got closer, Elizabeth could see a small pool of blood leaking out from under the door, slowly dripping off of the concrete base of the tool shed and onto the dirt.

The familiar feeling of absolute dread washed over her.

She tried turning the door handle, but it seemed that the door was locked.

There were a few sounds from inside, but they didn't register in her head.

Without even thinking, with the amount of panic running through her significantly increasing, Elizabeth backed up a few steps. She brought her foot up and copied the placement of the bootprints that were on the front door, kicking as hard as she possibly could right beside the handle.

The door flew open just like that.

She looked down at the floor.

There were little splatters of blood next to the puddle, small splatters that led further into the tool shed.

Inhaling sharply, Elizabeth began to follow the trail.

It passed by a toolbox.

And around a half-covered lawnmower.

And then it took a turn towards a small stack of boxes near a corner.

With a bit of hesitation, Elizabeth looked into the space between the boxes and the wall.

She found somebody with a head of messy brown hair sitting on the floor, their hand tightly gripping their left arm, which appeared to be bleeding.

Their eyes went wide.

"Hey, it's you!"

"Charlie? Are y-you okay?"

Charlie jumped to her feet, nearly losing her balance. She grabbed onto Elizabeth for support.

"Thought you were the jackass who was trying to break in here earlier," she said. "What're you doing here?" Charlie began to make her way back inside and Elizabeth trailed after her while she explained herself.

"I was coming by like y-you said to, but I s-saw y-your front door busted open so I came inside to make sure y-you were okay. Wh-what happened?"

With an air of casualness that you wouldn't expect from somebody that was hiding in their shed moments ago and had a big gash on their arm, Charlie began to recount the events.

"Well, It started with my lights going out..." She stopped in front of the circuit breaker attached to the back of her house, picking up the broken lock that was resting on the grass. She opened the panel and eyed the switches. "Could you bring that lighter just a little bit closer? I can't see."

Elizabeth obliged.

"Thanks. Anyway, the lights went out and somebody started trying to bust my door down. I didn't get a chance to hide before they managed to get in. They slashed my arm open the moment they saw me and I booked it into the backyard before they could do anything else, hiding away in the tool shed."

The lights in Charlie's house turned back on.

"They tried to bust that door down too, but eventually gave up and left. I thought that they had come back when you entered the backyard, so I hid behind those boxes."

Both of them stepped back inside.

"Wow, did they wr-wreck your house wh-while y-you were hiding?"

"No," Charlie awkwardly scratched the back of her neck, "my house is always this messy."

"Oh."

"But anyway, now that you're here, I've got a problem to help you with."

"Maybe y-you should go to a hospital first? That g-gash on y-your arm is pretty bad."

Charlie waved her hand dismissively, "Nah, it'll be fine." She grabbed her handheld tape recorder off of her coffee table and pushed down on the record button. "September sixteenth, nineteen ninety-four. 10:27 p.m update. My house was just broken into and I was attacked by a masked individual. I managed to escape with a minor injury."

More blood dripped onto the carpet.

"That woman who's got the demon following her...Elaina? No, that's not right." Charlie held the microphone up to Elizabeth. "What's your name again?"

"Uh, El-elizabeth."

"Elizabeth. Elizabeth showed up not long after the attacker left. Not surprising, since I told her to come around so that I can help her out, which I will try to do..." Charlie spared a look at the mess around her, "...once I find my journal."

She stopped her recording.