Betsy’s flashlight flickered as she moved down the dimly lit corridor, the beam bouncing off peeling paint and broken machinery. She stopped, listening for any signs of her friends or, God forbid, The Bludgeoner, but all she could hear was the droning silence of the old factory.
She cursed herself for ending up like this. She’d thought that staying behind The Bludgeoner after Eric pushed her there was her safest bet, to stay out of his reach, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. It only meant that when he fell under Stu’s angry attack, he’d fallen right on top of her, and by the time she’d wrestled herself loose the others were already slipping out a window far above, barrels collapsing behind them.
That left just her and The Bludgeoner, who was on the ground but already stirring. Before he could get back up again and notice her, she backtracked silently and escaped back into the main factory. It was her nightmare scenario, and she could only blame herself.
Clutching her flashlight tighter, she listened for the heavy footsteps she already knew too well, but she heard nothing. Somehow the silence was even worse.
She considered her options. The escape route the others had taken was no longer possible, not without making a ton of noise moving and stacking barrels, and that was if she could even lift them. The main entrance where they’d first come in was probably the simplest and quietest way out, but the problem was she had no idea where it was. She’d followed the others through the factory like a pet mouse, staying close and trying not to look at much lest it scare her even further. Not only that, but even the others had lost their bearings and couldn’t find the entrance again. She could find another way out, of course, but the idea of stumbling around in the dark looking for one, while The Bludgeoner was still in there with her, crossed that option off the list.
The only remaining option Betsy had was to hide, to find someplace small and out of sight and to curl up inside it until the others brought back help. Police, army, whoever. She didn’t love the idea of staying in the factory for what could easily be hours, but at least it was something she could do. She wasn’t strong enough physically to fight that monster out there, she was barely strong enough emotionally to be walking around scared out of her mind, but hiding she could do.
Hiding was smart. Hiding was the answer.
As much as it killed her to do it, Betsy turned off her flashlight. She needed to keep from attracting attention, and the beam of her flashlight was the first thing she needed to deal with. She waited a few, tense minutes as her eyes adjusted to the dark, enough that she could see a few feet in front of her, and began moving slowly through the factory, looking for a spot to hide that didn’t trap her with no way out. Sure, a closet was out of sight, but if The Bludgeoner found her in one it would be game over.
After a few, sweaty minutes, Betsy found a machine that had to be the size of four station wagons put together. It had a large alcove at the bottom where various controls were located, as well as a few pipes leading through the floor. It wasn’t perfect, but she liked that the space was low enough to the ground to be hidden from anyone passing by, and that she could slip out in the other direction if they found her. As she slipped beneath the machine, though, something odd on the floor caught her attention.
“What is that?” Betsy whispered, feeling the loose floor panel. It sat unevenly in its frame, and it was barely visible beneath layers of dirt and grime. Carefully, quietly, she moved the panel aside to discover a metal shaft leading down into darkness and, what’s more, a ladder mounted onto its wall.
It was a good hiding place. It wasn’t perfect—she didn’t like the idea of being trapped down there in case The Bludgeoner showed up—but then again she wasn’t sure he could fit down there at all. After a few moments of back-and-forth arguing with herself, Betsy tucked the flashlight into her waistband and crawled down the ladder, gently sliding the floor panel back into place above her.
At the bottom of the ladder, submerged in complete darkness, she fumbled the flashlight out and turned it on as fast as she could. Her mind raced with thoughts of The Bludgeoner looming in the shadows, ready to strike at any moment. She bit her lip as she glanced around the dark, illuminated only by the single beam of light.
She was in a small corridor, maybe eight feet by ten, that extended as far as she could see. Rusted pipes lined the walls, zig-zagging every angle. She thought she was in a sub-level, maybe for plumbing and heat, but she had no idea if that meant there would be a way out of the factory, maybe a drainage that led to the lake, or if it was in fact a terrible idea to be down there. Either way she had made her choice, and now she had to live with it. Betsy crept forward, legs shaking, until she reached an opening.
As her light crept across the newly exposed space, much larger it seemed, a putrid stench assaulted her nostrils—the unmistakable smell of rotting flesh. “Oh, God …” she choked, her eyes watering as she fought against the urge to vomit.
The room was some kind of charnel house for storing remains. Dozens of bodies lay strewn about, some slumped against the walls, others contorted into unnatural positions on the floor. Most of them had been there a very long time, little more than skeletons wrapped in waxy flesh. Betsy couldn’t tear her eyes away. She wanted more than anything to run screaming from the horrors spread out before her, and yet a thought had occurred to her.
She needed to find something—anything—that could help put an end to this nightmare. If this was the beast’s lair, then it was possibly the only place that could give them a clue about who he was or, more to the point, how to stop him.
Her hands shook as she aimed her flashlight at the mutilated corpses, searching for anything they could use. Her stomach revolted at the stench that assaulted her. Bile rose in her throat, but she swallowed it down, refusing to let the terror win.
Finally, in the furthest corner of the room, she found a few candles on the floor that had burned most of the way down, wax melted and hardened to the floor. Next to them was an old box of matches with a few still left inside.
Just beyond them, perched against the wall, was a small, leather-bound book with string tied around it to keep it closed. Betsy picked up the book, untied the string, and opened it. She read the first page and gasped.
“How could we leave her behind like that?” Christine asked, tears in her eyes. “We were all supposed to stick together.” She tried to picture Betsy somewhere safe, like maybe she’d gotten out another way and was already putting the factory far behind her, but she knew Betsy better than that. She was just a sweet, innocent person, not strong, but loyal and good. If she’d gotten separated from the group, Christine could only imagine her cowering in a corner.
“It all happened so fast,” Stu replied, still in shock. He tried to replay what had happened in that room, but it was all a blur of screaming and attacking and absolute terror. Especially when The Bludgeoner had Christine by the throat. Stu had never seen red before like that in his life. He hadn’t even known what he was doing until he was already attacking that monster, hitting him in the head with his metal pipe. He thanked God that he had, or Christine wouldn’t be alive now, but it was a shocking part of himself he’d never known about. The violent side of him had surfaced, and he wasn’t sure that he liked it.
“It doesn’t matter how it happened,” Brandon said, trying to regain control of the spiraling group. “Betsy’s in there with him, and we need a plan to get her out.”
Christine sniffed. “What if she-?”
“There’s no time for that shit,” he cut her off. “Now listen. Christine, Eric, you should run back to town and get help. Tell the cops what’s going on out here and tell them to send help. Shit, tell anyone else who will listen. Meanwhile, Stu and I will head back through the front door and find Betsy. Roxy, you can watch the entrance in case she comes out.”
Roxy gave him the finger in reply.
Eric looked over at Christine. “Maybe that’s a good idea.”
“No, it’s not a good idea. I’m not leaving you guys alone with that … that whatever he is,” Christine shot back through tears.
“Alright, so Roxy goes with Eric.”
“How about go fuck yourself,” Roxy replied. “I’m not your teammate you can push around.”
“Well someone has to go, and I need Stu with me.” He grabbed Stu by the shoulder, squeezing it like a coach coaxing his star player.
“Why, because he’s a guy?” Roxy objected. Brandon stared back at her blankly.
“Well … yeah.”
“What about Eric?” she asked, and Brandon shrugged.
“I’d rather take Stu,” he said, then nodded to Eric. “No offense.” Eric said nothing in return.
Roxy took the pack of half-crushed cigarettes from her pocket and slid one out, lighting it with the last of her lighter’s fluid. She’d had enough of Brandon calling the shots, like he was some damn alpha dog keeping his pack in line.
“You know what, I’ll go by myself. At least then I can enjoy the company.” She snatched the flashlight from Eric’s hand, catching him off guard, and walked away from the factory and back toward the woods.
“Roxy,” Christine called out, scared to see her friend going off alone. “Rox, please don’t go.”
“Don’t worry, Mister Perfect will protect you,” Roxy said, walking backwards and taking a drag from her cigarette. “I’ll just go and do the girlie work while the men take care of business. I guess we’ll see if I come back.”
Christine called out to her a few more times, but Roxy continued walking until she’d reached the forest. Christine turned back to Brandon and gave him a cold scowl.
“What are you worried about? This is perfect for her,” he assured her. “She loves being on her own.”
In a moment the trees swallowed Roxy up, until all that was left was a thin cloud of cigarette smoke.
If you’re enjoying Bludgeoner, let me know with a like, comment, or restack!
And if you haven’t already, subscribe for free to make sure you never miss an episode.
Suggested Listening: