Chapter Nine - The Last Lullaby
A loud knock startled Camille, who was already anxious and on Valium. She hurried downstairs to see who it was, not surprised to see the detectives on the other side of the front door. Her hands began to shake, and her skin felt clammy to the touch, but she managed to remain calm.
“How can I help you, detectives?” Camille asked after opening the door.
“We have a few questions for you, Mrs. Santos. May we come in?” Detective Brown asked.
“Are you this persistent with the other neighbors, too?”
“Yes, we are being very thorough with our investigation,” she lied.
“I guess, come on in.”
The detectives, both tall and in suits, followed Camille to the living area, where they all sat across from each other. Not wanting them to stay for long, Camille did not offer refreshments. Tension filled the air as stillness intensified around them.
“We noticed some cameras in your backyard. We were wanting to see the footage, in hopes to find something that can help bring Miss Nancy’s case to a close,” the detective began.
“Our cameras barely catch anything. I have been meaning to ask my husband to take them down, as they might already be turned off.”
“We believe it might be worth looking at.”
“Okay, I can tell my husband to bring them to the station tomorrow.”
“We would appreciate that.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes, thank you, and sorry for taking so much of your time.”
As Camille walked towards the door, Detective Brown felt a chill run down the back of her neck, the kind of sensation people get when someone is watching them.
The feeling was so intense that she was compelled to look back.
When she turned her head, she quickly surveyed the area.
Nothing seemed out of place, but her skin still crawled, and she hurriedly exited the house.
While the detective’s instincts might have been correct, her eyes had failed her. She didn’t notice Belinda lurking at the top of the stairs, her eyes black as night.
After the detectives stepped out, Belinda headed downstairs as she crossed paths with her mom.
“Back to bed?” Belinda asked, trying not to bump into her mother on the narrow staircase.
“Just shut up,” Camille answered.
Belinda knew that her mother was heading for the pill bottle and planning to knock herself out for the next few hours.
With that thought in mind, she walked outside to find Detective Brown alone in her car.
Her partner had brought his own car and had already gone to oversee a different investigation.
Detective Brown was sitting in the driver’s seat, looking at some papers when Belinda knocked on her window. Curious of why an overgrown teen was carrying a doll in her arms, she rolled down her window.
“Are you alright?” Brown asked.
“Do you have a minute to speak?” Belinda said.
“What would you like to talk about?”
“It might be better if you come back inside.”
“You are the Santo’s kid, right? I was just inside, so why didn’t you… Nevermind. Lead the way.”
After stepping back into the house, Detective Brown scanned her surroundings but didn’t see Camille anywhere.
“Where is your mom?” she asked.
“She went back to sleep.”
Belinda led the detective to the kitchen table and offered her a seat. After sitting down, the detective felt a sudden unease. She wondered what drove the teenager to seek her out and bring her back without her mother’s knowledge.
“Is there something you want to talk about? What’s your name again?”
“My name is Belinda. I would tell you what my friends call me, but I don’t have many friends.”
“Okay, Belinda. Tell me, what’s on your mind?”
“I really want to know about what you found. You know, with Miss Nancy,” Belinda asked.
“I’m sorry. I can’t discuss the case with you. Now, if you know something you wish to talk about, please tell me. Otherwise, I must get back to work.”
Belinda slowly walked in a circular motion, making Detective Brown uneasy. Animosity filled the air, and the detective grew annoyed at wasting her time. All for a nosy child.
When Belinda circled the detective the second time, she stopped behind her. The detective normally wouldn’t allow anyone to linger behind her, but she didn’t feel threatened by a young girl who still carried her childhood doll.
“You know, she was one mean cunt,” Belinda said softly into the detective’s right ear.
A sudden wave of alertness flooded the detective, like a punch to the stomach, and before she could turn around, a chain-like rope appeared before her eyes and suddenly wrapped around her neck, tightening and preventing her from screaming.
Loud gasps escaped her mouth as she tried to loosen the metal chain with her fingers.
Earlier that day, Belinda had taken the chain from a chainsaw and kept it hidden beneath her doll’s dress, wrapped around Pin’s body. The chain was lined with tiny blades and spikes as sharp as razors, embedded in the metal.
When she used it, the blades pierced through the detective’s neck like a knife through butter. As she tried to loosen it with her fingers, the blades tore into her flesh, degloving the skin and severing some of the tendons in her distal phalanges.
“Pin Pon es un muneco,
Macabro y pálido.
Se lava su carita,
Con sangre y ácido.
Pin Pon se desgarra el pelo,
Invocando un gran llanto,
Aunque se lo arranque todo,
él no para aquí.”
Belinda sang as the detective’s head became severed.
Skin, nerves, vessels, tendons, muscles, and bones all separating into rough, chewed-up strands, splattering blood on both the ceiling and all around the kitchen.
Belinda cut her own hands as she held each end of the chain with her bare hands, moving it side to side like a Gigli saw.
Her face was drenched in blood, but when the detective’s head rolled down onto the floor, her eyes turned black as she reached for the cascading neck stump.
She opened her mouth wide and swallowed hard, the detective’s heart still beating, pumping gushes of blood into Belinda’s mouth.
She swallowed and gulped rapidly, holding the body by the shoulders.
Detective Brown was now a human keg. “A party to die for,” Belinda thought.
After drinking the last gushing ounce of blood, Belinda allowed the detective’s body to drop to the ground.
Her eyes were no longer black. With bloody hands, she investigated the belongings the detective had brought in with her.
She had a briefcase, and inside it was information about possible suspects, Antonio being one of them.
It just made sense, especially after Jenny.
Belinda was never careful about leaving evidence behind. Her hair or fingerprints must have been found at Miss Nancy’s, and they were getting ready to interview her dad, maybe even take his DNA samples. It was all a ticking bomb now.
Belinda positioned the detective’s body back onto the chair, placing her oozing, severed head on the table. She wiped her fingers on the woman’s hair and headed upstairs to shower.
After cleaning herself up and bandaging the cuts on her hands, Belinda headed back downstairs to make some tea while she waited for her dad to show up.
She mixed the herbs in a pot and brought them to a boil; she was never about tea bags.
Having the leaves at the bottom of the cup gave the tea a more earthy flavor.
It made her feel more grounded. She took a sip of her cup, savoring the pleasant aroma.
Once her teacup was empty, she smashed the glass cup on the countertop.
Breaking the glass into a mortar with a pestle into smaller pieces, she left some larger shards intact.
From her pants pocket, Belinda pulled out some pill capsules.
She emptied the contents into the sink and replaced them with the shards before sealing the capsules back up.
She then placed them back into her pocket.
In another mug, she poured some tea laced with sedatives for her mother.
While heading upstairs, Belinda tried to remain as quiet as possible.
Her mother was at the end of her sleeping spell and could wake up at any moment, but she needed to hurry before her dad got home.
After spotting the pill bottles on the nightstand, she quickly opened one and replaced the capsules with the glass-filled ones.
“Mom, wake up. Drink this tea, and you can go back to sleep,” Belinda said.
“Do what? Okay,” Camille replied, not fighting it.
She drank the lukewarm tea before reaching for the pills, just like Belinda had anticipated. While lying down, Camille lifted her head to drink the tea, then popped two capsules into her mouth. This pleased Belinda, and she left the room, leaving the tea on the nightstand.
Watching from the window, Belinda waited for her dad to come home. Once she saw him pulling up in the garage, punctual as usual, she poured the still-warm tea into a new cup and walked outside to greet him.
“Hey kid, how’s your day?” Antonio asked.
“Just fine, but I can’t wait for you to try my tea. Drink it now while it’s hot, please?” She begged.
“Well, I’m not feeling it… but sure,” he replied.
Antonio drank the tea until the cup was empty. “It was great, honey, thank you.”
She hovered near her dad as he grabbed his satchel of documents, locked the car, and headed inside, with her not far behind him, holding Pin in her arms.
“Honey, we really need to do something about that doll,” He said.
“Her name is Pin.”
“Whatever. She’s creepy, and we still don’t know where she came from.”
Belinda remained silent as they both walked into the house, not knowing what awaited him.
After leaving his belongings in the office, he headed to the kitchen for a drink.
His skin quickly flushed, and his head began to spin, making him nauseous as he encountered the detective’s body and her grotesque, severed head oozing blood onto the table.
Her eyes were wide open, reflecting the fear that failed to escape, with blood breaking every vessel in her sclera.