The Moonwood Mystery

The gigantic Moonwood tree stood guard - protecting both the dead and alive. For centuries it had been performing its role until the fateful night, a little more than 3 full moons ago…

Nurse Sophie shuddered - her eyes drifted towards the ancient grandfather’s clock. Tick Tock Tick Tock. The hands were about to meet! A chilly breeze swept in through the closed windows. In the eerie silence, her heart was thumping louder than the ticking of the clock - until the gut-wrenching sounds cut through the stillness… the harrowing screams… and then the chill faded away. 

Detective Steve Boice’s mouth felt dry, but he had to do it. Questioning distraught parents was the toughest part of his job, even more, difficult than solving the cases. He looked at the mother, who sat like a stone. Her eyes devoid of any expression, like a doll’s glass eyes.

He approached the father, “Ahem… Mr. Durland, I understand this is a tough time for your family, but please tell me everything so we can investigate.” The father continued to stare at the wall, not paying attention to Steve. “Uhh… Mr. Durland?” he coughed, cautiously calling out his name.

The father jerked up in response, “Detective! I-I- don’t understand what has happened… Ian was asleep, and I was sitting next to him and then s-suddenly the room became frosty. I went to check the temperature controls, but on hearing his muffled gasps, I rushed towards him. His arms were flailing, and he was trying to say something, but everything happened so fast… My son was just 6… he didn’t deserve this-”

Bam! The ceiling lights brightened, interrupting the father, mid-sentence. His face turned ghostly white and beads of sweat sparkled on his bald head. Mumbling incoherently, he zoomed towards the exit. 

“Mr. Durland!” Steve called after him, but the dazed father walked ahead like a zombie. Pssh... Steve’s brows knotted up as the lights dimmed on their own. He looked up and stroked his beard, what’s wrong with this place?

Next on his list was Nurse Sophie. She was the one who had called the cops, yet again! He found her in the staff room, looking outside the window. 

A sad smile formed on her face as her eyes met his, “6th one Detective,” she murmured. “I had a strange feeling last night, don’t know why. I was updating the registers when it became cold just before midnight,” she lowered her voice, “I forgot to breathe when I heard those blood-curdling screams.” 

She looked behind her shoulder and continued in a hushed voice, “The child’s face was pale and his eyes were as big as the full moon. Mr. Durland was bawling like a madman. I performed CPR, even used the defibrillator, but it was already late, the body was stiff and cold like frozen chicken,” and then she added as an afterthought, “just like those other 5 children.” 

Steve’s breathing became shallow as the head nurse chewed on her cuticle, and asked in a trembling voice, “D-do you think this is a… h-haunted hospital?”

The strange and unnerving silence in the room was deeply unsettling. 

Westmoor Children’s Hospital had become a hotbed of unexplained deaths. It was the second such case in a month, and the sixth one in a brief span of 3 months. A sudden buzzing stirred him. A private number.

As he slid the green button to the right, a smoky voice hissed, “Only I can help you solve this. You better believe me before it’s too late and more innocent children die!” and the caller disconnected without waiting for his response. 

He knew the voice. It was Erina. His thoughts wavered, Is she right about this? Ridiculous, it can’t be! 

Erina Gorman was a self-proclaimed psychic, who believed it was the work of a sinister spirit. Steve didn’t believe in paranormal activity and all that mumbo-jumbo, but the pattern of events was shaking his conviction and belief in logic and reasoning. It was nothing short of a horror story, and every 2 weeks a child was dying under mysterious circumstances. Not only the hospital administration, but the entire county was terror-stricken. 

Steve stood outside room no. 13. The cold door was giving him heebie-jeebies. Wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers, he slid them into the rubber gloves and pushed open the door. The powerful scent of acetone hit his nostrils. I hope the forensic team finds some clues at least this time.

There wasn’t much to investigate, yet he lingered on. The crumpled sheets were proof of the night’s struggle. It’s too similar… he sighed, too familiar. With no new insights, he decided to return to the office.

Driving through the deserted roads, his thoughts wandered to his discussions with Erina. From the beginning, she had been harping about an outer force being responsible for all these deaths. And yet, he had no proof to disprove her claims. He jumped out of his seat as an impatient driver honked- the lights were flashing green. Waving an apology, he drove to his office. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. he looked up and there was no one around. Steve went back to the growing pile of ‘unexplained deaths’. Tap. Tap. Tap. A middle-aged woman dressed in a long flowing skirt was peering at him through the glass partition. She stared at him with unblinking eyes and a wide smile. 

Click. His room went pitch dark and cold as the door creaked open, “Detective Steve, I told you 2 moons ago, didn’t I? Meet me in the hospital.” She laughed with mirth, “We’ve never met, but I know you. I am Erina” There was something off about her laughter but he dismissed it as his imagination. 

Click. The lights switched on and he was alone in his room. He cocked his head in disbelief and stared at the door. There were no signs of anyone having entered, yet his heart beat faster than ever. 

He thought of getting permission from his boss first but then dismissed it as the idea sounded crazy to his ears. There’s no way I can convince Boss to let Erina help with the investigation, he will think I have gone nuts. I have no option but to trust this weird woman…   

It was twilight when he reached the hospital. Steve’s stomach churned as he entered the eerie parking lot. Despite the blazing June weather, he could feel the cold seeping through the thick sole of his shoes. Creepy, he muttered to herself. The hospital loomed in a deep dark well of shadows, and he strained to see the structure. 

He jumped out of his skin when Erina appeared in front of him - out of nowhere. He hadn’t seen her coming! “Did you see that?” she pointed towards the orchard behind the large concrete building. Steve denied seeing anything, but he had felt a pair of frigid hands brushing against him. The hair standing on his arms was proof of the strange encounter. What if she is right? “Let’s go in!” He hurried, afraid to look behind his shoulder. 

Erina peered into the blanket of darkness and smiled. Is she searching for clues or is she mad!? wondered Steve. A stray howled loudly - somewhere in the distance - as she walked towards the hospital building. 

Steve watched her peering at number 13. “You stay here,” she announced and pushed the door open. She briefly glanced at the Durlands, plonked on a bench in the lobby. Their eyes fixed on a glass door at the end of the long passage. “They claim their dead son is in there - inside the toy shop,” informed Steve.

Erina entered the room and came out in the blink of an eye. Click clack click clack… Her heels tapped on the hardwood floor as she raced towards the toy shop. Many toys adorned the shelves, but she didn’t seem to be interested in any. 

The salesgirl inquired, “how can I help you?”

Ignoring her, Erina circled around the shop, lifting and holding each toy close to her chest. Steve observed her from a distance. 

‘One little duckling sitting on a tree. Cut the tree down and let it free…’ 

He jerked as sounds of a faint hum filled the room. Did no one else hear the song? He looked at Erina and the shop assistant - both engrossed in their own tasks. The lights flickered violently as she lifted a wooden doll peeking from a corner shelf. A macabre smile formed on her face as she placed the doll on the billing counter. 

“You want to buy this!?” The salesgirl quizzed, gently whispering, “this spooky doll gives me the creeps… Yikes! I paint it every few days and it becomes like this. But my boss is scared to throw it, so I just hid it in that corner.” Shivers crawled up the Detective’s spine as he saw fresh drops of thick red liquid splatter down its cheeks, forming dark patches on its shirt. 

Erina wrapped the doll in her stole and held it as if it were a child. The floorboard creaked as she stepped out of the shop. Detective Steve walked along in silence, his thoughts plummeting between common sense, fear, and craziness. 

He looked at her ashen face as he held the car door open for her, “What’s wrong?” She was gazing at the orchard behind the hospital, she whispered, “They shouldn’t have cut the moon wood tree.” Loud winds whistled between the trees in the orchard, as though in disagreement. 

Steve felt a piercing pain in his chest. It was the doll - staring at him; its eyes as grey and numbing as sheets of ice. 

Steve looked at the calendar. He hadn’t heard from Erina in almost 2 weeks. As if by some celestial intervention, his phone buzzed. A private number… again.

A raspy voice commanded, “Steve, I have solved the mystery. Meet me tonight at 11 in the orchard behind the hospital,” and then she warned, “Remember, it is a full moon night.” 

The doors whispered shut as Steve stepped out of the car. The bright moon shone with fervor against the ebony skies. Swaying shadows welcomed him into the orchard. He paused in his steps, watching a strange silhouette dancing in the center of a circle made of fiery candles. 

His teeth clattered as icy fingers tapped on his shoulders. Impulsively, his hand reached for the pistol. As he turned, a shiver ran the length of his spine. There was no one around. With guarded steps, he plodded towards the candles. His eyes popped out in disbelief as he recognized the owner of the dancing shadow. It was Erina!

A golden aura surrounded her as she moved on the withered grass, swaying sensuously. In her hands rested a large crystal ball. Despite the strange surroundings, her face was calm and radiant, just like the full moon. 

He felt a strange tingling all over -- even under his cuticles -- as he saw her talking animatedly... to no one. She continued, not bothered by his presence. All of a sudden, chilly winds gushed, rustling up leaves on their way and blowing out the candles. As if on cue, ominous onyx clouds swallowed the full moon, bringing forth darkness equalling the blackest birds of paradise. His eyelids froze open as the crystal ball glowed magically, casting a golden beam on an empty patch of land. 

Erina’s hypnotic voice boomed, “Steve, take this shovel and dig a pit there.” With her eyes closed, she pointed to the plot of land glowing under the crystal light. How does she even know I am here, he wondered? But saying nothing, Steve picked up the shovel. He felt butterflies in his stomach as the trees swayed with maniacal hysteria and all the candles lit up again. Faint tintinnabulations embellished the air. 

His jaw dropped when he saw Erina holding the doll in her hand, and the crystal ball magically floating in mid-air. Holding a twig of sage near the doll’s face, she whispered in its ear. Just then. icy winds lashed Steve’s cheeks, and he shivered. He had never believed in ghost stories, but the happenings were too real to be dismissed. Thud! The shovel slipped from his hands and landed on the ground - the doll’s lips were moving!

“Here I am, with my story. You already know my name, it’s a funny one, right? Bruce Buck,” it let out spiteful laughter and continued, “I used to live here in an orphanage many moons ago. Mr. Garlitz the caretaker was an evil man, a sadist! He derived pleasure in hurting us. On a night like this, when I was about 6 years old, I snuck out of my bed to play in the garden. Right there,” creak... its wooden hand lifted on its own and pointed towards the hospital parking. 

“Mr. Garlitz found me missing and got wild. He lost his nuts when he saw me playing. Grabbing me by my collar, he whipped me so hard that I stopped breathing. With not even an apology or a ceremony, he dumped me here. I lay forgotten forever, underneath the moon wood tree.” 

Erina nodded and mumbled something, even though Steve couldn’t understand, the doll’s lips curved up, and its eyes had a wicked gleam. “Yes, you are right. I became free when they chopped down the tree. After so long, I could roam around. I was happy to see many children in this new orphanage. I found a place amongst the toys, but soon got bored and wanted to play with other children my age. So, I would make new friends every fortnight. On every full moon and new moon night, I get some gifts which help me make friends.” 

Rivulets of sweat twinkled on Steve’s forehead. The doll’s black beady eyes turned scarlet, and it cackled. It was the most sinister laughter Steve had ever heard. A wave of icy fear passed through him at the unprecedented strangeness around him. He wanted to run away, but some unseen force kept him chained to his place. 

Erina cradled the doll in her hands, “Bruce, I know how you feel-” “You know nothing, Erina,” it hissed, “but I am glad you brought me here… Well well! Hello there, Nice to see you, Mr. Garlitz. I have waited long for this night.” 

Screech…. Steve froze when the doll’s wooden neck turned in his direction. Erina stood nonplussed and continued to stare at the pit. Steve’s gaze darted over his shoulders. To his shock, there was not a single soul behind him. The doll whistled a hollow, haunting tune and sauntered towards him, “tsk...tsk... tsk... It’s a shame... Isn’t it Mr. Garlitz? Loitering in the garden at such ungodly hours?”

Steve felt a chill down his spine on hearing that sing-song voice. ‘One little duckling sitting on a tree. Cut the tree down and let it free. Come, Mr. Garlitz, come to me. Little Bruce wants to play with thee…’ 

Cling- Clang - Cling - Clang… the shovel started bobbing up and down, dancing to the sinister tune. 

Shivering and panting, he whispered, “W-w-what do you mean? Why are you talking to m-me?” His question was met with a fountain of scarlet flowing down the doll’s blood raged eyes. He begged, but his voice was lost in his throat, “Listen, I don’t know what you are blabbering, I am Steve and not some guy you seem to have confused me with. Please stop this!”

The doll stood unconvinced. Steve hollered, “E-Erina! What have you done!?” and ran towards her. His knees gave way and his eyes popped out in horror. 

Her face was blank - as blank as a canvas. Her nose, mouth, eyes; everything had vanished! The candles forming the surrounding circle instantly transformed into logs and started crackling. The devouring flames wrecking wrath all around. I hope this is a nightmare! Steve pinched himself as the trees started growing taller and wider, and the night became darker and darker. 

The flames were blazing, but he didn’t feel the heat. Terrified, he looked around and screamed as his life depended on it. His feet were not touching the soft soil anymore. He was floating amidst the trees. He kicked and howled, but the trees shushed him with a swoosh. 

Icy wooden hands clutched his throat with a deathly grip. A scalding blow burst open his skull - a fiery liquid flowing down his temples. The veins on his forehead burst open. Drip. Drip. Drip. it dripped slowly; drop by drop, burning his skin in its path. 

He trembled amidst the trees, but the scene on the ground was even more frightening. A sheet of scornful snow had covered the ground below. He shuddered as he saw a burly man grabbing a small child and strangling him to death. With a forceful kick, he pushed the limp, lifeless body into a pit. Letting out a malicious laugh, he looked up towards the heavens and stroked his beard. Steve cried out in disbelief when he recognized the man. NO! That's not me! This can’t be true...

The ruthless killer was he himself!

“See what you did to me. You deserve this, Mr. Garlitz,” he heard the doll’s bitter voice. The grip around his throat got tighter. Sharp nails bore inside his chest and ripped it apart, flinging out his innards like hot ash erupting from a volcano.

One by one, wicked wooden hands pulled out his stomach, lungs, intestines, and limbs and threw them into the raging fire. They sizzled like steaks on a grill. His brain and eyes dangling from the socket by a thread were still functioning and watching everything. Now, he believed in Erina’s hocus-pocus, because even though his body was dead, he was still alive! 

His brain went numb as he fell from the great heights flat on the thin thawed snow inside the circle of fire. 

Streams flowed from his eyes as they saw a soft shadow leaping towards the skies. The loud laughter and the painful cries signaled the end of a long wait. ‘One little duckling sitting on a tree. Cut the tree down and let it free. Come, Mr. Garlitz, come to me. Little Bruce wants to play with thee… the hollow tune haunted in the woods till the streams froze. 

The next day’s newspaper carried the news of a mysterious death. 

‘A group of workers reported discovering a burnt and dismembered body in an area about 200 miles from the city. What makes the case intriguing is the location which is the proposed site of Westmoor Children’s Hospital. The recent cutting of the ancient Moonwood tree has generated a spike in paranormal sightings in the area, leading the residents to believe the site is haunted.

The body was burnt beyond recognition, however, a dismembered limb thrown a bit away from the burnt body held an unburnt wooden doll with a wide grin plastered on its face.

Detective Marwin Tomaas addressed a press conference advising residents not to panic. Also, he warned strict action would be taken against those guilty of spreading false rumors.’