Slenderman (Emma Frost Book 9) Read online

  Ulrik was the first up the stairs, and his brother kept behind him as he knocked on the front door. “Let me do the talking.”

  Peter didn’t argue. Neither of them were very happy to be at old Hansen’s farm. The man had always scared them, especially when chasing them off his property shooting his rifle in the air when they were younger. They had spied on the old man and his wife, pretending to be secret spies shooting with peas in a sling at the wife, pretending to be shooting with guns. Those days were gone and old Hansen had only gotten older and angrier with age. Ulrik hadn’t seen him in many years, not since his wife passed away. They had lost a child once, Ulrik’s mother had told him. That’s why they didn’t like children on their property. The wife had never stopped crying about it. In the end, that’s what killed her, Ulrik’s mother had said. The sorrow killed her.

  “What do you want?” The door was opened forcefully and a rifle was pointed at the two boys.

  “Mr. Hansen? It’s Ulrik. Ulrik and Peter Larsen. We’re your neighbors?”

  The old man chewed on tobacco and spat. “Ah, the troublemakers. What do you want?”

  “Our dad sent us to ask if you needed any help around the farm. He heard about your accident.” Ulrik looked down at the cane the old man was leaning against. He was holding the rifle clenched between his arm and chest. Only half of his face moved when he spoke. Ulrik’s dad had told him that the man had a stroke. That’s why he had fallen. It had numbed half of the man’s face, and he looked crooked when he spoke. He seemed taken aback.

  “Well…that’s awfully nice of him, I guess. Well, you can start by feeding the dogs and the horse. I don’t have many animals left, but those I have I can hardly take care of being like this. Then, if you could clean up in the barn over there. I can’t get the car out and I can’t bike downtown anymore with this hip. Your mother has been so nice as to bring me groceries whenever she went the last couple of days.”

  “Sure thing. Looks like we should take a look at the roof of your house as well,” Ulrik said, when he spotted two buckets in the hallway behind the old man.

  Mr. Hansen nodded with a deep sigh. “Yes. Yes, that would be nice of you. The storm in January took its toll on my old roof. Rains an awful lot at this time of year, huh?”

  “I guess it does.”

  8

  November 2014

  Lisa Rasmussen was preparing for war. Well, actually, it was just for the mayoral election that was coming up at the end of the month, but it felt just like she was going to war. Not just for her, but for her family as well.

  She was making strategies, holding meetings, bribing the right people, and getting rid of those that weren’t on her side. It was exhausting.

  Lisa had her mind set on becoming Fanoe Island’s next mayor, no matter the cost. This was her goal, this was what she had worked towards. And she had the public on her side. Every day, as she took her usual walk from her house in Nordby to city hall, she took her time to talk to anyone who wanted to. Even if it was just to exchange a few words, or to tell her how wonderful a job she had done cleaning up the town, or if it was to complain that the elderly weren’t treated properly, that the food that was delivered by the city to their homes was bad. It didn’t matter. Lisa took the time to listen to every problem and comment. She would grab their hands and shake them using both of hers, like she had seen presidents do on TV.

  Now she was sitting in her house going through her strategies as her husband Christian entered the living room. He sat on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table.

  “Do you mind?” Lisa said. She looked at her papers. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

  “And I want to read the paper,” he said with a grin. Ever since Lisa had gotten the idea that she wanted to be mayor, Christian had laughed at her. He didn’t think she was ever going to be elected.

  “The current mayor, Erling Bang, has been in his seat for many years. People love him. You don’t stand a chance. People around here like things to stay the same. They don’t like change.”

  Well, Lisa was just going to show him how wrong he was, wasn’t she?

  Christian sighed and took his feet down. “How long are we going to live like this?” he asked.

  “What do you mean live like this?”

  “You’re never home. The house is a mess, look around. No one is at home to take care of the kids. I have to pick them up. You’re never here, Lisa.”

  Lisa snorted. “Are you implying that I’m not a good mother?”

  “No. You’re a great mother. You just…well, you just haven’t been around much lately. Amalie, Jacob, and Margrethe are all missing you. I miss you.”

  “You just miss me because I used to do all the work around the house, and now you have help out,” she said.

  “Well, yes. That too. It’s hard on me to have to do everything. This morning, I ran out of clean underwear.”

  Lisa snorted again. “Didn’t I just cook you dinner?”

  Christian nodded. “Yes, yes you did.”

  “Didn’t you enjoy it?”

  “The meat was very tasty, yes.”

  “So, what are you complaining about? I’ve even hired a cleaning lady to clean up after you. I’ll wash your clothes tonight. What is it again you do that is so hard?” Lisa stared at her husband with contempt. She really couldn’t see the problem.

  “Honey. We miss you, that’s all. I know you take care of everything, but…well, even when you’re home, this is all we get. You’re always on the phone or writing or occupied with all this stuff. The kids are always asking for you. Every time we pass one of those posters on the streetlights when driving, they ask when this election will be over so they’ll get their mother back. What do you want me to tell them? I mean, I don’t think you’ll win, but have you even thought it through? What if you win? You’ll be so busy, we’ll never see you. What about Margrethe? You’re missing out on everything with her. Today, the teachers at the preschool told me she was crying because she missed her mother.”

  Lisa looked at her husband. “She was crying?”

  “Yes. Apparently she hurt herself playing on the playground outside. The teacher didn’t know how it happened, but she has a bruise on her back.”

  Lisa felt how her hand started to shake. “They don’t know how it happened? Weren’t they keeping an eye on her? Who did you talk to?”

  “It was Laiyla. You know, the one with the piercing and purple hair.”

  Lisa broke the pencil in her hand. Yes, she knew her very well. Never trusted her much. Lisa closed her eyes and counted to ten backwards to calm herself down. Then, she looked at her husband again and smiled. Lisa tilted her head. She liked that they missed her. It was a good feeling. She put her hand in Christian’s.

  “I promise I’ll try and be more present from now on, okay? So, Laiyla huh? And you say she wasn’t paying attention to what our daughter was up to? Tell me everything she said.”

  9

  November 2014

  I took Victor and Maya to the shelter the very next day. They were both very excited in the car on our way there. Well, Maya tried hard not to be, but I could tell by the look on her face that she really was. Victor was smiling and looking out the window at the houses passing by. I was excited as well. This was an excellent idea. Just seeing their happy faces would make it all worth it, I was sure.

  Nordby seemed desolate, I thought, as we parked close to the main street. It was always like this in the fall. All summer, the island was overrun by tourists; there was so much life, and when they departed, it was all calm and strangely empty. At least it seemed to be. There was plenty of activity still going on. The mayoral election was coming up, and all the streetlights were covered in posters for candidates. I still hadn’t decided who I was voting for. They were down to two candidates. The sitting mayor, Mayor Erling Bang had been mayor for longer than anyone could remember. It was the first time in fifteen years that someone had gone up against him, I had been told. Lisa
Rasmussen was his opponent. I liked the idea of change, and of having a woman in charge. I just wasn’t quite sure about Lisa. She seemed a little fishy. I stared at her poster as we passed one. She seemed to be trying too hard to look gentle and trustworthy, but all I could see were those mad eyes of hers. They gave me the chills. I had no idea why.

  It was dark, and grey clouds hung over our heads, but it hadn’t started raining yet as we crossed the square. I was cold, even in my winter jacket. I nodded to a couple of people as we passed them. I knew most people by now. At least I recognized their faces. Like most Danes, the inhabitants of Fanoe Island didn’t like to say hello, but they would nod with tight lips if your eyes accidently met. For the most part, people tried to not look at each other. Especially at this time of year when the cold made you bend forward slightly while walking, and all you really wanted was to sit inside by the fireplace or the TV with a cup of hot chocolate between your hands.

  We passed a few small shops, the local real-estate agency, the small gas station, then continued down Niels Engersvej where I stopped in front of a small house. I looked at my phone where I had the address on the screen.

  “This should be it,” I said.

  We walked up the small path leading to the front of the house. It was a couple that ran the place from their own home, I had read online. They took in sick animals, or animals that no one wanted and found new families for them.

  A red-haired woman opened the door.

  “Hi, I’m Emma Frost. I called about looking at a dog?”

  The woman smiled. She seemed nice. She reached out her hand and grabbed mine. “I know who you are. Yes, come on inside. So, these two are the lucky children, huh?”

  “Yes, well. We’re just looking for now.”

  The red-haired woman laughed. “That’s what they all say. But once you set your eyes on one, you can’t let go. Come on in. I’m Camilla, by the way. My husband Poul is in the living room with the dogs. He brought them all into the playpen so you could take a look.”

  We walked inside, and the pungent odor of wet dogs and animal food hit my face. I could hear barking in the distance, and the sound of animals moving in cages.

  “We have birds and cats as well, if there is any interest,” Camilla said.

  “I think we’ll just look at the dogs for now,” I said, and followed her into the living room. It was like a zoo in there. Birds jumping around in their cages, cats jumping around on the furniture, and dogs barking and biting each other inside the playpen. Victor and Maya rushed to the dogs and leaned on the fence. I spotted a small black dog that looked like it had some poodle in it. Poodles were smart dogs, I had read.

  “That one is cute,” I said and pointed. The small fluffy dog looked up and Camilla grabbed him and handed him to me.

  “Oh, wow,” I said, and held him close. He climbed up and licked my ear.

  “He is very affectionate,” Camilla said. “Loves children too. Fully potty-trained and up to date on his shots. He would be perfect. His name is Kenneth.”

  Maya came over and petted Kenneth on the head. “He’s very cute,” she said.

  “And smart,” Camilla said.

  “I love that he is so small,” Maya said.

  “Small dogs are easy,” Camilla said.

  “I like him,” Maya said.

  “I like him too,” I said, and petted him behind his ear. I handed him to Maya, so she could try and hold him. He climbed up and licked her face. Maya laughed heartily. It had been awhile since I had seen her this happy. “Oh, my God, Mom, he really likes me.”

  “I’m sure he does.” I let Maya hold Kenneth and looked at the other dogs in the pen. None of them were as cute as Kenneth. No, this was the perfect dog for us.

  “So, I take it you have fallen in love?” Camilla said with a wide smile.

  Maya looked up at me. “I love him, Mom. I really do.”

  “Well, I do too,” I said, while looking for Victor. I spotted him standing in front of a big cage at the other end of the living room.

  “Can we have him, Mom?” Maya continued.

  I stared at Victor. He put his hand inside the cage.

  “What is that down there?” I asked. “In the big cage.”

  Camilla looked concerned. “Oh, my. That’s Brutus.” Camilla walked towards Victor. “You shouldn’t put your hand in there,” she said, but Victor didn’t listen. Camilla looked at me. “He really shouldn’t put his hand in there.”

  I walked to him. “Take your hand out, buddy.”

  I looked inside the cage. A huge gray dog stared back with eyes as white as snow. It looked like a pit bull. It had scars on its face and only half an ear. I gasped. It looked really creepy.

  “I’m sorry,” Camilla said. “He’s not safe. Please take your hand out of the cage before he bites you. He’s been badly mistreated. He’s not well. I’m afraid we might have to put him down soon. You can’t trust him. He bit my husband just yesterday, attacked him out of the blue. He can’t be trusted; no one will want him.”

  “I want him,” Victor said.

  Uh-oh. I had a feeling he would say that.

  “No, you don’t,” Camilla said. “He’s dangerous, sweetheart. Please, get your hand out.” Camilla grabbed Victor’s arm. I didn’t realize until it was too late. Victor let out a loud scream. It was ear-piercing.

  Camilla let go of his arm and looked at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “He doesn’t like to be touched.”

  The dog growled and banged his head against the bars while staring at Camilla. It looked like it was ready to kill her. Victor still had his hand inside the cage, but it didn’t touch him.

  “Now, he’s doing it again,” she said with terror in her voice. “Occasionally, he bangs his head against the bars like he’s trying to get out. I really don’t like that dog. It’s very rare, since I love most animals, but this one I simply don’t know how to handle.”

  “But he lets Victor pet him,” I said.

  “That’s…that’s the first time he ever let anyone touch him,” Camilla said. “I’ve never seen him quite like this before. It’s very unusual; normally, he never lets anyone touch him…just looking into his eyes usually makes him angry.”

  Exactly like Victor.

  I turned to look at Maya, who was playing with Kenneth, throwing a small rubber bone across the room and having him fetch it for her. She was laughing and kissing the small dog. His ears flapped when he ran.

  This is not good.

  “I want this one,” Victor said, still staring inside the cage and petting the dog. It was now licking his hand and calming down from his touch.

  I sighed deeply. There was only one solution to this, and I was certain I was going to regret it.

  “We’ll take them both.”

  10

  November 2014

  The numerologist had just gotten back from her session with Maya. She threw her bag on the chair, then walked to the kitchen and grabbed a packet of crackers. She was tired. Tired of having to pretend like she liked that family and that awful person Emma Frost. Today, she had been close to just grabbing a kitchen knife and stabbing the terrible woman with it. Just finishing it then and there. The idiot had taken both of the children to the shelter and had come back with not one, but TWO dogs. The house was a mess and a zoo. The dogs were running all over the place, barking at each other, and fighting. Well, it was mostly the small black one that had been feisty, while the big grey one had been quieter, and simply sat in a corner staring at the numerologist and Maya like it was carefully planning how to attack them and eat them afterwards. The numerologist didn’t known which was worse…the small dog constantly barking or the big quiet one staring at her with hungry eyes. Emma Frost had told her that she couldn’t say no to either of them, and she had preferred the small black one, but Victor really had his eye on the big one, so she had taken them both.

  The numerologist had felt like yelling at her, telling her how STUPID that was. How insane it w
as with two troubled children in the house. But she knew Emma Frost would never listen. She was simply too irresponsible.

  The numerologist was happy to be home and put the laptop on her desk and opened it. Misty crawled across the table while the numerologist pulled out a cracker. Crumbs fell to the desk next to her laptop. Misty picked them up and ate them. The numerologist broke a cracker in two and handed one piece to the rat. It nibbled the cracker with great delight.

  “There you go, sweetie.”

  The numerologist looked in her book and flipped a couple of pages. Things were going really well for her lately. Getting close to Emma Frost had been easy, and she had gathered a lot of material. Enough for her to take this to the next level. Yes, she had waited long enough. She wanted to move carefully, though. She wanted it all to happen in just the right way.

  She flipped yet another page and drank from her water bottle. The stars were aligned just perfectly for her little plan to be fulfilled at this time. All predictions worked in her favor.

  “See, Misty. All the books say the same thing,” she mumbled, and stared into the computer screen.

  It was true. 2014 was a special year. It was ruled by the number seven, since if you added all the numbers you got seven, making it a Universal Year.

  The numerologist spoke while creating the web-page, sounding like she was trying to explain everything to her rat.

  “The number seven is analytical and self-examining. It starts a turnaround as, even the mind, as cold as it is, recognizes that duality doesn't benefit anyone.”

  She looked at the pyramid she had drawn on a piece of paper. A pyramid of numbers with the year and seven in the center. There was no doubt about what this pyramid was telling her. The five in the upper right side spoke very clearly. The five represented a big change or shocking and unexpected event around November of 2014, and if she looked it up, the stars would tell her it was caused in large part by miscommunication. The numerologist knew exactly what this miscommunication would be.