The Crone of Port Saint John

The Crone of Port Saint John

By: Roger Alderman

Alan Bucannon finally turned off the engine of his truck after sitting in his driveway for some time listening to his favorite local radio station. He was exhausted after a long day of remodeling the flip house he had purchased in Port Saint John, Florida. He was sore from the day’s activities and could hardly wait to prop up his feet.

The door to the truck groaned long and loud as it swung open. Alan stepped out of the truck and stretched his aching back releasing a series of pops from along his spine. “Ouch that old oak tree really didn’t want to come down,” he ached aloud and he grabbed his back. He snatched his duffle bag from the front bench seat of the older model Blue Ford F-150. 

Alan swung his duffle bag over his shoulder and closed the truck door. He paused to cough and gag as since entering the moldy old house he had not felt well. The loud squeak of the door announced his arrival home to, Buddy, his golden retriever. Buddy immediately began to bark happily that Alan was finally home. Alan looked at his Brown and Tan two-story home along Kings Highway and chuckled at Buddy’s reaction.

Alan swiftly crossed the yard pausing long enough to collect the mail from the roadside box. Then it was time to head inside. Upon reaching the door a look of curiosity crossed his face, as he looked back to the driveway. He became curious as to where Sharon must have gone, but he was too tired.

Buddy’s demand for his attention on the other side of the front door was becoming comical to Alan. Buddy released several whimpering barks and scratching at the door. “Okay, Buddy, relax I’m home,” Alan could barely get the words out after opening the door. Buddy was six years old but stood nearly as tall as Alan when on his back paws.

Alan rubbed Buddy along his sides and ruffled the fur on his head, “Alright that’s enough.” Buddy dropped to the floor and followed Alan’s every step close behind sniffing him as he traveled. Alan closed the door and dropped his duffle bag on the love seat. “Sharon,” he called out curious. 

Alan saw no signs of, Sharon, his wife or the kids. He drifted from room to room in an effort to see if anyone was home. After searching almost, the entire the first floor he entered the kitchen and discovered a handwritten note on the refrigerator that read.

“Alan, 

The kids and I went to your mom’s house to help her out for the night. We will be back tomorrow night. Dinners in the fridge. 

Love You, 

Sharon and the Boys.” 

Alan looked down as Buddy leaned against him waging his tail. “Looks like it’s just you and I tonight,” Alan leaned down and pet his faithful companion. “You hungry?” Alan asked and Buddy responded by twirling in a circle. “Alright. Alright. I gotcha,” Alan grabbed a can of premium dog food from the panty and peeled the tab open. Buddy brought his dish to Alan after smelling the odor from the can fill the room.

Alan emptied the can into his dish and watched as Buddy gobbled the food down quickly. He snickered at the overexcited golden retrievers' action. He opened the shiny chrome refrigerator door and grabbed the clear plastic container with the red lid that held his dinner. 

Alan opened the top a smile followed the smelling the contents, “Yes, Shepard Pie!” Buddy looked up and wagged his tail. “Mine,” he responded authoritatively to the dog’s desire to eat his dinner also. Alan placed the container into the microwave and left the kitchen.

Alan entered the adjoining front room and turned on his favorite sitcom, “just in time.” Buddy climbed onto the sofa and settled next to Alan as he ate his dinner. He finished his meal as the half-hour comedy ended, “Well, I don’t know about you but its bedtime for this old man.” Buddy sniffed at Alan’s bag. 

Alan went into the kitchen to wash his dish. Meanwhile, Buddy stared sat the bag and pulled it off the table onto the floor and began to scratch at the zipper. Alan re-entered the room and saw Buddy, “Get out of there Buddy. It’s just some stuff I found in the house we’re flipping.” 

“Fine,” Alan sat back down and returned the bag to the coffee table. Buddy watched intensely as Alan opened the bag and removed the contents. Buddy acted as if he could care less for anything in the bag except a small wooden crucifix that had seen better days. Alan noticed the dogs focused attention, “I figured I would clean it up and give it to Sharon. Do you think she would like it?” Buddy looked at Alan twisting his head into an angle that told of his curiosity. 

Buddy rushed down the wall to wall carpeted hallway wagging his tail as he went barely missing bumping into a small wooden table that held family pictures. Alan shrugged, “Okay you’re right. It is bedtime. Let’s go.” Alan locked up the house and went upstairs to the master bedroom. Buddy had already run up the step and entered the master bedroom. 

Alan climbed into bed and was quickly joined by Buddy. Buddy rolled around onto of the comforter of the king-sized master bed. Alan knew this was a sign of Buddy wanting to play. Alan obliged gabbing buddy and wrestling with him for a few minutes. Buddy hopped off the bed and ran from one side to the other than would bounce back onto the bed with Alan. 

The pair became startled as the house phone ringing at the growing late hour. Alan snatched up the receiver and offered an exasperated, “Hello?” He became surprised when his work partners, Randy, voice. “Someone broke into the property and broke up a bunch of stuff.” Alan lowered his head in growing unease, “Seriously?” 

Alan could hear the sounds of other voices in the background, “Who’s there with you?” Randy took a deep breath, “The neighbors called the police saying they heard noises and banging around inside the house across the street.” Alan looked annoyed and buddy continued to try to play with him. Alan had to shove him away and yelled, “Not Now, Buddy!” Buddy lowered his head and left the room. 

“So, what are we looking at?” Alan asked as he rested his head on his palm. “Alan, they called me only after they could not reach you on your cell phone. According to the police they found a mangled cat on the porch, and the front door was kicked in, but whoever did this. They went straight to the basement and ripped up the floor. They had to be searching for something,” Randy told him. “I’ll come right down just sit tight,” Alan growled. 

“No, I got it. The police are filling out the insurance forms for us and making a report. I have already talked with the insurance people. Stay home get some rest,” Randy plead with his friend and work partner. “Fine just let me know what’s up in the morning,” Alan demanded. “Alright talk to you later, bro,” Randy hung up on that note. 

Alan turned off the light and curled up under the comforter. Before he knew it, Buddy had wormed his way under the blanket next to him. Alan and Buddy fell fast asleep spooning. 

Alan awoke to the sounds of Buddy yapping and barking downstairs, “what the?” He looked at the alarm clock in the darkness its red glowing light showed, “10:33 p.m.” Buddy barked louder to get Alan’s attention. Alan set up on the edge of his bed rubbing his face, “Fine, Buddy, let’s go!”

Alan made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. He paused seeing Buddy pawing excitedly at the back door. Buddy stopped and sat staring at the door. Alan chuckled and approached. Alan stopped in his tracks as someone knocked on the door before him.

Alan turned on the light to the backyard and peered out the kitchen sink window which overlooked the backyard. He looked out the window for a long moment but saw no one. Save for the old feral neighborhood cat, Nelly.  He opened the back door and watched as Buddy dashed out into the drizzling rain to try and find a dry patch to pee on. Nelly quickly bound up a tree see buddy rushed into the yard.

Buddy quickly did his business, but just as he was about to cross the threshold of the back door. He turned to face the backyard and sniffed the air. Immediately he began to growl and bark ferociously at a darkened corner of the yard. 

Alan recalled last spring when Buddy did the same thing and nearly got hold of a rabid raccoon. Thinking quickly, he seized Buddy by the collar and drug him back inside the house. “Get in here. Before you end up getting rabies,” Alan scolded.

Buddy was a dog possessed he barked and raged even once the back door was closed. Alan continued to scold his companion, as the barking became agonizing, “That’s Enough!” Alan paused when he realized he had drawn back his hand ready to strike Buddy, “You’re just trying to protect me aren’t you?” Buddy winced and withdrew at the sight of Alan’s temper flaring outwards in a manner he had never seen previously.

“I’m sorry,” Alan opened his fist and pat Buddy on the head. “I’m just tired but trust me it’s probably just one of those feral cats that Vicky keeps feeding,” Alan hugged Buddy to reassure him the anger was gone and understanding was reached.  Buddy licked Alan and strode off to the master bedroom wagging his tail. Alan stood, turned, and locked the back door, “I gotta try and talk sense into that woman. Can’t have all these wild cats upsetting buddy.” 

Alan crossed the kitchen and turned off the light. He was startled by the sound of a knock on the back door, “Who the hell?” He looked at the clock on the stove and shook his head as he crossed the kitchen stopping at the back door to look outside before he would open the door. 

Alan saw no one outside even after turning the rear porch light back on. He looked out the window confused, “Damned cats.” He turned the light off and crossed the space again, but as before once, he reached the far side of the room the door was knocked on again. Angry and out of patience her rushed to the door and threw it open, “Who the…” 

Alan stood confused as yet again no one was there. He stepped out on to the porch seeking the person responsible for this interruption. The longer he stood in the drizzling rain the greater his confusion. Nothing was to be found by his scrutinizing gaze save for Nelly stretching her long forearm her long claws holding tight to the flesh of the tree as she stretched against it. 

Alan turned to enter the house only to find that the back door had closed behind him, but it was unlocked so there was a something positive to be taken from all this nonsense. He was too tired to dwell on anything at this late hour, opened the door, and entered. 

Nelly leaped down from the tree and watched from across the yard motionless in the falling rain. The door locked and the kitchen light was turned off by Alan as he left the room. Nelly glared in the direction of the house then turned and bound off into the underbrush.

Alan closed the master bedroom door and flopped onto the large bed. Buddy popped out from under the covers beneath Alan, “Damn it, Buddy, you know this is my side of the bed. Get over there.” Alan shook his head and motioned to Sharon’s side of the bed. Buddy understood, moved over, and plopped down next to Alan. 

Alan pulled the covers up and turned off the light, “finally.” He opened his eyes for a moment looking at the red light of the alarm clock which read, “11:30 pm” Alan shook his head in disappointment at the discovery of the time, “I’ll be lucky to get five hours in before I have to be up.” He exhaled and clenched his eyes closed. 

Time passed as man and best friend drifted off into slumber. Buddy slept like a log unmoving deep in dreamless rest. Alan, on the other hand, tossed in turned in a troublesome dream. 

In his dream, Alan watched the backdoor to his house from an inhumanly low angle on the opposite side of his yard. He felt as if he glided just above the grass across the lawn stopping at the back door. He heard loud knocking on the door before him.

 Suddenly the light in the kitchen turned on and the door swung open. As the door opened is revealed a gaunt woman in a tattered and filthy brownish dress. Oily black patchy hair hung before its face two luminous orbs glowed where its eyes should be. It stretched out its grey corpse-like arm with inhumanly long fingers to seize him from the ground. Even though he was fast asleep he could feel his heart racing as he was unsure of what was happening.

Buddy was terrified and barked and growled to try and wake his master beneath the comforter. His ears perked up hearing something moving up the stairs, but what can he do Alan won’t wake up. He continued to bark and growl as loud as he could.

The sinister corpse-like woman carried Alan up the stairs of his house. Wait a moment, he thought, this is my house. He began noticing the flaking wallpaper that previously hung on the walls before his renovations. That was it, he thought to himself, this was the house before he bought it and moved in. 

The Crone reached the second-floor landing and made its way down the hallway. Alan began to hear distant and distorted sounds of a dog barking. The Crone stopped before the master bedroom door. The Barking was now a warning against entering.

Alan detected movement behind the Crone and himself. He turned to face behind them and was instantly disturbed by the long line of children that followed their piper. The Crone’s whispers beckoned each child by name to follow her. 

Alan heard the dripping from their still bloated corpses as water dripped from their twisted skinless bodies pooling beneath each child. Each child’s face now forever locked in the terror-filled appearance of their last moments of life. Only their oily wet dark hair remained attached to the skin left behind on their heads. 

Alan looked down towards the feet of the Crone and became transfixed upon the dress of the Crone. It did not flow as one would expect a dress too. It was stiff had heavy stitching holding it together. He studied it for a long moment and became aware it was fashioned from the missing flesh of the children that followed behind her. Alan's attention moved back to the bedroom door as the Crone reached out with her long arm’s and pressed against the door. 

Buddy was enraged and frothing at the mouth in defense of his mast whom laid on the bed unable to awaken. His attention locked to the door and what lay beyond. Barks and Growls challenged whatever stood on the opposite side to dare enter the room. He would not allow anything to happen to any member of Alan’s Family without a fight. He looked back to Alan asleep on the bed then turned to face the door. 

Alan watched as the Crone reached out and took the doorknob in hand. The knob turned slowly making loud groaning and clicking noises. Buddy slammed himself against the door to keep it closed. 

The loud bang against the door Awoke Alan from his trance-like sleep, “What the Fuck!” He was soaking wet and gagging on the pool of saliva that had formed in his mouth. He spat and coughed, as he witnessed Buddy raging and growling defiantly at the bedroom door. 

“Buddy,” he coughed and spat again. The golden retriever leaped onto the bed with Alan and began to lick and nuzzle against him. Buddy clearly wanted Alan awake and his attention also to focus on the door. Alan looked at the door and watched as something or someone turned the doorknob.

Alan reached for his nightstand and threw open the drawer. Inside he grabbed his pistol and swiftly unlocked it in preparation to defend himself and his home. He leveled the firearm at the taking careful aim. His thoughts reminded him of the Crone and the dead children that lay beyond, “Don’t come in. I have a gun. I swear to god I will use it!”

Alan heard the Crone call out from the hallway but could not make out her words. He became shaken as the door swung wide open in a loud followed by a long cackling. He clenched his eyes and emptied the revolver. Each pull of the trigger allowed the power of the firearms volley to ripple down his arms. Each round thrust against his grip as if the weapon was trying to leap free of his grasp. 

Buddy rushed into the hallway followed close behind by Alan. He struggled to empty and reload his weapon. He stopped dead in his tracks as the sight of Buddy in the hallway standing over a slumped form on the floor. Buddy was not growling anymore, but instead whimpering and laying on. The ground next to the corpse of Sharon his wife. 

“Sharon! Oh My God!” Alan rushed to her side dropping the gun and landing on his knees. Buddy stared at Alan not understanding what had just happened. Alan picked up his wife, cradled her body, and sobbed, “Why did you come back you were supposed to be at my mom’s?”

Alan’s mind raced over the nights' events. Confusion took hold of his expression as he stared at the floor trying to find answers that were not to come. He looked at the revolver next to him on the floor for a long moment as tears and regrets formed and flowed from his face. 

From beyond the front door, red and blue lights raced to and from illuminating the house. The front door to the house burst open as numerous deputy’s rushed inside with firearms drawn and ready. The cleared the first floor quickly and turned their attention to the second floor. 

Alan wept holding his wife on the floor. Buddy began to growl and bark again. Alan looked up again the images of the Crone flooded his mind, “You Bitch!” Alan raised the revolver and emptied its contents. Each explosive thrust trying to disarm him. 

The first deputy up the stairs took a round in the chest and fell to the floor. The three that followed quickly returned fire killing Alan and Buddy as the knelt trying to protect Sharon from any further harm. The deputies rushed the pair and began calling out to others inside the Buchanan home. 

Alan lay dying on the floor the searing heat of each round that hit him burned deep within him. Each bullet felt to weigh hundreds of pounds giving him the sensation of being pulled down to the ground. His attention moved beyond the officers to the far end of the hallway. He saw something move in the dark. He heard something dripping just beyond his sight. Suddenly a long corpselike arm extended from the darkness. The crones long bony hand extended its index finger and motioned for him to follow.