She Loves Me You Know

“She loves me you know, I take care of her, and she loves me.”

That was all the kid said when I found him in the root cellar beneath the little orphanage. He was on his knees, a thin layer of blood and other fluids lined the floor around him and the statue as he stared lovingly up at it. He didn’t respond to me as I tried to get his attention, he looked as if he were in a trance. It wasn’t until I accidentally stepped into the edge of the blood pool that the child realized I was there.

Upstairs, in the orphanage, everything looked prim and proper. Everything was in its place, and there didn’t seem to be any signs of a struggle or altercation. Neighbors reported hearing screams, however when they stopped and the neighbors investigated they found the place was devoid of people. They grew worried and figured to call the police. They were about to leave when a passerby mentioned seeing them all head out back behind the house towards the cellar.

The stone statue, covered in blood and viscera, stood tall. It was of a woman wrapped in a flowy garb, her hair long and blowing back as if caught by the wind. Her arms outstretched, her head looking down to the ground. In the statue's arms was the corpse of the orphanage workers. Steam rose from the body and the air smelled like cooked meat.

Behind the statue huddled in the corner were the rest of the children, unharmed and crying, obviously afraid for their life.They rushed to me as soon as they were motioned over and all cried and screamed but none of them made much sense. Once I gave the all clear backup quickly escorted them out. It wasn’t until then that then that another officer and I, being now ignored by the boy kneeling before the macabre scene, grew tired of it. We didn't want to be down there anymore, the sight was just too horrible, and so we moved to grab the boy.

He whipped around unexpectedly brandishing a long knife that he sent through one of the officers outstretched hands. There was a scuffle as I tackled him into the puddle, the knife was taken, and the boy was subdued. He began screaming then, most of it was just noise as if he was possessed, but the rest of it was to be let go of, that she needed him and he needed her. He was lucky the other officer didn’t beat him to an inch of his life, but I think with the scene before us we didn’t even think of retaliation. The other officer sat against the wall and waited as I called for EMS.

As one might imagine, those unharmed but still involved were disturbed by the whole thing, it didn't help when the boy was brought up to the orphanage. The other kids were up there in the living room and they all screamed and burst into tears when they saw the boy. So they kept them separate and the boy, Nathan, fell silent and generally impassive once he was moved into another room where he was sat down until responders could come collect them.

Nathan, twelve years old, report says he had been part of the orphanage for nearly six years. Interviews with the kids who were rescued said he was quiet, kept to himself, and was often bullied at school. There were extra bit in there that were hard to believe about the events that transpired that night. He had lured the orphanage worker that night down into the cellar before running back in saying that she had fallen and he needed help getting her up.

The Orphanage was a small one, there were only a few other boys and a couple girls, all between the ages of nine and twelve. More concerned for their caregiver they followed Nathan into the root cellar to help her up and out. Nathan may have been quiet and a loner, but he seemed to have been trustworthy as he ushered everyone down into the cellar. Before he shut it behind him and shrouded them in darkness.

The report from here gets grizzly, and the events that transpire range from unbelievable to downright unholy. In the dark the children all report hearing whispers and movement. One tried to move towards Nathan who was lighting candles that sat atop a table at the base of the cellar stairs, but when they saw the knife in his hand they stopped. He pointed to the corner where they now saw the statue in all of its unnatural horror.

Their caretaker lay before it, she wasn’t moving but as one of the boys got closer to her they all heard her moan loudly. All the stories differ here, some say a voice told them to hold still, the rest felt a cold chill that seemed to freeze them to the spot. Either way, the only thing they all reported with the same amount of detail was impossible. They all say the statue came alive at this point, bending down and scooping up the woman in her stone arms. Before slowly bringing her close to its chest. It didn’t stop, and crushed the poor woman to death, blood pouring down its frame and pooling at its base. This is where they all screamed and drew the neighbors attention.

Each one then has a different story about what happened, and over the course of the interview they changed, confusing both interviewer and themselves. None of their stories match, not until the police arrived and rescued them. Could be whatever else happened was so terrible they blocked it out, but the chances of that for all of them were slim. Besides that there wasn’t much left to go over. Now it was my turn to interview Nathan. See what I could find out. We all agreed there had to be more to this. There was still no real M.O. for this behaviour.

He’s staring at the only window, his face as impassive as when they had brought him in. He was calm and relaxed, not so defiant, just in his own little world. I stare at him a moment and try to figure out where to start. Flipping through one of the many files in front of me I glance at some of the pictures, shuddering at the memory of being down there. Alright, time to test the waters.

“Well, Nathan, I suppose you know why you are here…” I leave it open but he doesn’t bite. “Have you had a lot of experience cutting people Nathan? Or is it something you recently picked up?”

Still he says nothing, just stares out the window. “You really terrified your fellow orphans you know. Years of therapy won’t begin to erase some of the things they’ve seen according to these reports. They thought you were going to kill them Nathan.”

He doesn’t speak but I see his mouth twitch into a small frown as I say his name.

“Nothing to say Nathan?”

He mumbles something under his breath.

“What was that Nathan?”

His head whips, his face scowling as he looks into my eyes before yelling angrily.

“My names Nathaniel!”

I look at him in confusion and a brief moment of shock, looking down at the files I had, nothing I saw said Nathaniel, just Nathan. He’s looking back at the window again, his face blank once more, well at least I know how to get his attention.

“I’m sorry Nathaniel. I was misinformed. Everything I can find just says ‘Nathan’, have you always been Nathaniel?”

Surprisingly he turns to look at me, his face still impassive.

“She calls me that, Nathaniel, it’s... just what I want to be called.”

“Ooookay Nathaniel. I can do that. So, who is ‘she’ Nathaniel? The statue?”

Nathaniel just nods and looks back to the window, I use that as a time to look at the mirror on the wall and shrug, knowing that detectives on the other side watching are counting on me for some insight. I need to try and push him a little more I suppose.

“Well, I’m sorry Nathaniel, but statues cant talk, was there someone else there with the statue perhaps?”

“Nope.” he says lazily, staring out the clouded window as if it were clear as day. I pause a moment, but noting he seemed to talk about that creepy statue I decide to run with it.

“Has she always been down there?”

Nathaniel shook his head. “I’m the one who gets the food from the cellar for supper. It has been my chore for over a year. She appeared a couple months ago.”

He’s turned to me now, his eyes suddenly having a light of passion in them as he begins to talk about her. I may not need to push after all.

“She spoke to me when I saw her. She told me not to be afraid, which I was, but after a little talking she just wanted someone to care about her, and talk to her. I mean, yeah she was a talking statue who just appeared in the cellar, but something about her was just so nice, and I mean, who couldn’t use a little company from time to time? So we talked and talked, and then one day she said she hungry, she asked me for something to eat, and she told me she heard barking earlier and would love to eat the neighbors dog.”

He stopped talking as my face showed the concern caused by the flood of information and by what he was actually saying.

“Nathaniel” I asked after a moments hesitation, “Did you kill your neighbor's dog?”

He made a face, it looked a little like regret before his smile returned and he nodded. “Well yeah, I mean, I didn’t want to at first but she was practically begging me and I thought she was going to cry, So I made it look like the dog got out and brought it down here. It fought a lot and bite my arm, but I brought her the dog and she gobbled it up.”

I raise an eyebrow. “The statue ate the dog.”

He nodded. “Bones and all.”

I study his face and make a note before he starts again. Fascinating, he believes everything he is saying. He doesn't think he killed the dog, but what else could have happened to it? Obviously statues can’t eat dogs! I chuckle to myself as I’m about to continue when a strange feeling of dread comes over me causing me to shudder. I blink and suddenly I am standing in front of the statue again and panic wells in my chest but as I blink again I find myself back in my chair. Pausing I glance around the room before shaking my head slightly and try to regain my composure and continue. Nathaniel smiles at me, apparently ready to talk if it’s about the statue

“Did you feed her anything else?”

Nathaniel’s grin was wide, like he had just won some personal victory, but it was his words that were chilling to me. “Oh yes sir. Pets mostly. Alley cats I lured down with fish, our pet turtle when I was desperate. Then she asked for people.”

I make another note. He was showing classic serial killer signs in just the short time this statue ‘appeared’. How long has he been an undiagnosed schizophrenic?

“So, you brought down your caretaker and then the rest of the children to watch?”

Nathaniel shook his head. “First I brought her sister down, she lives on the other side of town but visits our caretaker from time to time. She was nice. I decided to bring her down, she got ate first. It was beautiful.”

I pause and shuffle through some notes about the crime scene. They were still running blood samples they found around the statue, but they didn’t find any animal carcasses or even another human body.

“She ate it?” I asked. “Bones and all?”

Nathaniel nodded. “It took her a lot longer. She had to break her will, and I had to break her body so she couldn’t get away. I didn’t want to but she was so desperate. So I did it, and she praised me for it. She loves me you know.”

“Nathaniel, you keep saying she ate them, but how does a statue eat?”

My stomachs getting queasy, and the feeling of dread was becoming persistent. Nathaniel was about to speak when we both jumped at the sound of pounding on the mirror window behind Nathaniel. He turns from the mirror and back to me to continue, but his eyes widen before a wicked grin opens across his face.

“I’ll be right back.” I say, putting my hands on the desk to hoist myself up from my chair. I am stopped however by two hands that grab my shoulders and hold me down in place. My brain goes into overdrive with irrational thoughts as I try and figure out what is going on. Across from me in the mirror there is just the kid and I. There is nothing else reflected. Yet looking down at my shoulders I see two hands of chiseled stone as they begin to dig into me. I look up to see the smiling face of a woman made of stone staring back down at me and I scream.

Surely the officers on the other side saw something, they were banging on the glass to warn me! They’d be in any second now to save me! Plus there was someone outside the door, there had to be. The only way in or out was by the guard at the door. They’ll hear my scream and come save me, they have to!

But they didn’t.

Nathaniel continued to just watch, smiling up at the statue as the pressure continued and the feeling of bones in my shoulder and sides began to crack cause me to scream again. What’s more was the heat I could feel, like I was being burned alive from the inside. Where was everyone? Why wasn’t anyone helping me?

“Help me Nathan!” I cry in choked desperation, my lungs feel like they are full of ash, my breath is hot on my tongue. The boy stares a moment before glancing up at the statue. Laughing he nods.

“I told him, I told him my name was Nathaniel. Just like I told him that you loved me. He doesn’t listen.” The scene changes in ripples like a rock breaking the surface of a body of water. I’m still in the root cellar, my body is numb, and the statue has a cement grip on my shoulders. I hear the pounding again and realize the pounding on the mirror were my partners trying to get in. I glance to the other officer who had been attacked by the boys knife and found him slumped against the wall, very much dead. I can feel my consciousness fading, and am at least happy to know the children are safe.

I turn back to Nathaniel smiling before it faded to something like pity as he looked at me before saying the last words I would hear.

“I love her you know, she takes care of me and I love her.”