Tracy's Child

"Please! Please I am begging you..."

"Begging is not freeing your Mom, Harry. You have my word. Your Mom is safe in your house, right before me, she is sitting on the kitchen chair, she cant say hello though." Chuckles from the other side sent chills down his spine. How did he get stuck in this mess in the first place! "Come on, Mr. Toler. This is the last phase of our little 'competition' here. Just one more round, one more phase, and then you get your little prize, your good old precious 'Mommy' that is." And then there was a storm of more chuckles before Harry hung up the phone, his knees giving up as he dropped to the floor of the telephone booth, hugging himself, crying like a five year old.

۔..

It was almost 7p.m. now. With a racing heart, Harry walked downhill over to the campus where he studied, having no other option than to complete the last phase. He stopped when he reached a small house. Small but comfy house. He could see the little roses his mother had cared to for so long. Who would take care of those poor little things if she did not make it? He looked at the door with an aching chest. She was so near, just a few steps away, held captive by whichever minster was behind all of this, yet he could not get to her. He bit his lip, taking a deep breath as he turned away, continuing downhill.

As he was told, he found the Campus door unlocked. He tiptoed through corridor after corridor, dark and silent, the only sound being that of crickets. When he reached before the girls’ locker room, he suddenly stopped, standing still staring at the floor. That was when flashbacks hit him, those that would scar him for the rest of his existence.

---

“No! No Harry please...” Gemma White, a plump brunette with hazel eyes, innocent and a star student wriggled back as she stared horrified at the disgusting concoction that Harry held in a bottle in his hand with a grin.

“Come on now, Gemmy. It was a deal! Whoever lost the Sports Competition would chug this down. You cant turn back now,” stated a blonde boy with a crooked smile who stood behind Harry.

“B-but... but.. you added eggs...”

“There wasn’t any restrictions to what was going to be in it now, or was there, Gemmy?” Chuckled a redhead.

“No... You do not understand ... I...”

“Come on now!” Two girls, cheerleaders they were, held her to the floor as Harry emptied the contents of the bottle down her throat.

“Gemmy! Gemmy! Gemmy!” Everyone cheered.

One the bottle was empty, Harry stood up, laughing, high fiving the others. What an achievement. But when he turned to look at Gemma, his face fell, and so did everyone else’s. She was wriggling, grabbing her throat, going very, very blue. She panted, hitting her feet on the floor.

“What’s happening...”

“Oh my God...”

“Was she allergic to something...”

“Call 911! Hurry!”

---

It had been too late though. Gemma White died that day after suffering an allergic reaction from eggs. He sighed. If only he had listened. If only...

Tfck! 

A sound got him out of the trance. The opening of a door behind him. He turned around and nearly jerked as a man wearing a creepy clown mask came into sight, striding towards Harry. Harry was not too scared though for this was the same person who had handed him over the tools for his first and second tasks.

The razor for shaving his neighbour, Mr Lodge's poodle. Little Ronnie had cried her eyes out trying to place the shavings back on.

The bucket, with lab waste and lots and lots of blood from God knew what, which Harry was supposed to drop on top of Holly Lake, a bespectacled redhead. He did so the next day having no other choice and everyone gasped as the poor shivering girl stood horrified in the centre of the locker room, drenched in blood, not knowing what had just happened.

And now the man was here again. With his club foot he staggered up to Harry, who gulped as he saw the spoon in his hand. Now they were face to face and the man held out the spoon. Harry shut his eyes tight. “Please... I... I... can not do this to someone. Please...”

The man gave no response, shoving the spoon into Harry’s hand before staggering away. Harry suppressed his sobs. He was only seventeen. Yet he had to do it. If not, his mother....

Slowly, he continued his journey to the gym where he was told he would find his teacher, Mr Cooper, confined to a chair. Opening the door, he drew in his breath because verily there was a chair with someone sitting on it facing the other way. He felt as if his legs were made of lead. With the same legs, he tiptoed forward.

‘Scoop out that eye of his. You have to do it. Do you have another option? Do it and get it over with! He will live if he loses an eye, but if you don’t do so, this day will be her last!'

“Mr... Mr Cooper?”

No reply. He held the spoon tighter, feeling as if soon it would dig right into his palm. He swallowed. “Mr. Cooper?”

He stood behind the chair now. No reply. Maybe his mouth was taped. Drawing in a breath, he reached out to the chair and spun it around, only for his jaw to drop.

“Mom!” Harry cried, throwing his arms around a perfectly fine Mrs. Toler. He could not believe his eyes. “Oh mom! I though I lost you...” he cried, digging his face into her shoulder. He drew back to look at her. “But... but how are you... you still...”

With a grin and a sinister shine in her hazel eyes, Mrs Toler snatched the spoon from his hand and stabbed its tail into Harry’s left eye. A scream left his throat as he held the spoon, falling back and howling out loud, with blood streaming down his eye. He was soon going to pass out from the incredible pain.

Tracy Toler chuckled, rising from the chair. “That’s what you get you disgusting little brat! That’s what you get for killing my baby!” She barked.

He was in far too much pain to understand what she was saying. “And I am not your mom!” She growled before kicking at his waist. “I am not your mom, you DOG!”

“Oof!”

“That pathetic idiot of a husband I got couldn’t bring a child to my marriage! That’s why he took you in! But I didn’t mind... Nope. At least I had a child from back in the day... My baby Gemma he named her... But no! No! you scoundrel! You had to take her...”

That was all the consciousness the pain allowed him before he fell into the dark pit of nothingness.

“I am standing in front of Down Bridge High School right now where seventeen year old Harry Toler has been found brutally murdered. Harry was a senior student at the Campus found strangled to death with one eye scooped out, by the janitors this morning! Harry’s parents are no where in contact! The question remains: what was Harry doing in the Campus aftee school hours, and who murdered Harry?