≈release date≈ Midnight Family Watch Free
- brief In Mexico City's wealthiest neighborhoods, the Ochoa family runs a private ambulance, competing with other for-profit EMTs for patients in need of urgent help
- user ratings 7,8 / 10 Star
- Luke Lorentzen
- release date 2019
- Runtime 1 hours 21min
- Writed by Luke Lorentzen
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I’ll never forget my hardest case. The one that didn’t quite make sense. The one filled with such violence and horror it chills me to think of it still to this day, 20 years after closing the case and some caskets. My therapist says it’s important to share the hard cases. Usually I ignore her advice and daydream about who helps therapize a therapist-- we all need help in our fields, you now? But sharing this case finally makes sense. Maybe I can close the case within myself; get some deep, dreamless sleep and not wake up screaming in my bachelor bed. The case was weird from the start. I had just started at my third and final firm, settling into the divorce branch of lawyering and feeling like I’d found home. I was the low man on the totem pole and I grabbed more coffee than casework, but I didn’t mind that so much. Higher ups had passed on this one couple; so many had passed, in fact, that they ended up with me. They weren’t my first divorce case and they certainly wouldn’t be the last, but I was still unsure how to handle them with all the rumors circulating their “differences”. Professionals who hardly gave me the time of day were giving me their sympathy, warning me over pricey coffees about the “bat-shit crazy Cady couple”. No one would say what had them so spooked, of course. Just that the higher ups didn’t have time for the trouble that would come with the Cady case. So I was tasked with sorting out the couple’s business. They seemed normal at first glance and, really, I couldn’t see why they were getting divorced. Sidney Cady was a bright-eyed, gorgeous young woman who, while a bit soft spoken, was incredibly strong-willed and opinionated. Craig Cady was a handsome guy with deep dimples when he smiled, which he did quite often, at first. They held hands as they sat before me, Craig absently stroking Sidney’s knuckles in a gentle and loving way. They looked at me with gratitude and thanked me profusely. Apparently they had been kicked around every firm in the area. I felt sorry for how unprofessionally and unfairly they had been treated; God do I laugh at how sorry I felt now, how I wish I would have kicked them to the curb just as quickly as everyone else had. The first meetings went smoothly enough. They were organized and educated in the divorce process. They had paperwork, deeds and titles, certificates-- everything you shared on paper in a little folder labeled “Divorce”. We breezed through the firm’s charges and their own finances, and started in detail on a meeting schedule. The Cady’s told me they wanted the divorce absolutely final by the end of the year. Sidney got a little teary as I noted their request-- it only gave us two months, but with how organized and certain they seemed I knew I could make it happen. Then I asked the damning question. “I have to ask, ” I remember cheerfully and harmlessly (I thought) saying as they held hands in front of me. “ Why are you separating? ” You learn quickly not to ask that question in such a way when handling divorce. There’s a lot of he-said, she-said. A lot of secrets. Usually some form of abuse or another. Unless they want to handle their separation in a dirty way, airing out all that laundry and throwing each other under the bus, it’s really best to just not ask. But I did. “Because He says we have to. ” Craig stated, very simply. I noticed a tremor in Sidney’s lower lip when he said it, more tears glinting in her eyes. Ah, I thought. Another case of Narcisistic-Daddy-Doesn’t-Love-My-Husband. “No one controls whether you can be together or not. ” I told them. “That’s a whole other branch in the complicated lawyer system. ” I joked. Trying to lighten the mood doesn’t help when the conversation actually isn’t about a controlling parent. Trying to lighten the mood doesn’t help at all when you’re dealing with a couple who believe they’re being haunted by a jealous and All-Powerful Being. Sidney had fled the room in tears and I was left with the awkward task of apologizing to Craig. I told him I hadn’t meant to be rude or invasive, that we could carry on with the proceedings without further questions if that’s what they wanted. I remember how much Craig seemed to age in that short amount of time. His smile faded, his skin paled, his eyes went vacant and dark. A shake started in his hand, a shake he seemed barely aware of. I noticed how dark the shadows under his eyes were; I remember wondering if they had been there the whole meeting, and wondering if they were sleeping at all. When Craig finally broke the awkward tension in the room his voice was raspy and he sounded like an unhinged, ancient man. “We were highschool sweethearts. We’ve been everything to each other. And then we bought this damn house…” Craig had slammed his shaking hand into my desk. “We bought the damn house and He makes us do things. He won’t let us live while we’re still together. ” I heard it then, the unmistakable capitalization of “He”. Their Being. Their Reason-For-Divorce. I remember I sat there with my mouth wide open like some kind of fool, completely unable to say anything. I wanted so badly to tell Craig that ghosts or haunted houses weren’t real; that maybe he and Sidney just needed some help and a vacation. I said nothing. Sidney came shuffling back into the room with the same blank expression that Craig had. A young, once-happy couple with the faces of people who have completely given up. Totally defeated. I pulled myself together long enough to tell Sidney I was sorry for upsetting her. I told the Cadys that we would continue this in our next meeting. I promised them I would have everything finalized by the time they wanted. They said they were grateful, shook my hand with their own tremoring hands, and disappeared for a whole month. After attempting to contact them several times I gave up, almost relieved to be rid of them. I decided the firm had been right-- the couple was crazy. Everyone had been right to throw their case out and ignore their insanity. I could handle a controlling parent or an abusive husband, but a haunting? No. I helped on a few pressing cases for the firm. No one heard from the Cadys. No one spoke of them. I had almost forgotten about their weird requests when, suddenly, they reappeared while I was out for lunch. I came back and the office secretary bustled over to tell me that “they” were in my office. I had no idea who “they” were, but assumed she meant the couple I was currently walking through their divorce-- a hardened pair of criminals who realized that a life of monogamy and dishes just wasn’t for them. I walked quickly to my office with every intention of telling them that showing up outside of scheduled meeting times would cost them extra-- and then there “they” were. The Cady’s. Craig was wearing a grimy long-sleeved shirt that had seen better days. Hell, it had seen better years, but apparently not a washer. Sidney had dark sunglasses on and what looked like a bright red rash or a burn creeping up under the collar of her turtleneck. The city was typically blustery, but I remember that day as being sunny and overly-warm. Too warm to be bundled up in a tiny corner office waiting to surprise your unsuspecting lawyer. “Mr. and Mrs. Cady, ” I greeted them cautiously. Sidney visibly flinched at the use of Mr. “We know we don’t have an appointment and that we skipped out on the last one. ” Craig started. He talked quickly, almost in a manic state. I noticed purple scars on his hands and face-- deep and raised and nasty. The shadows under his eyes were monstrous and his eyes themselves were… well, have you ever looked into the void and had it look back at you, begging for help while it fades into nothing? A noise echoed through the room and I realized that Sidney was grinding her teeth. Viciously, loudly. Dragging her jaw back and forth in a tight, rage-fueled motion. I was glad I couldn’t see her eyes. “How may I help you? ” I asked, again cautiously. I wish I would have turned them away. I wish I hadn’t gotten sucked in. “When we finalize the divorce we’ll be splitting the house. If we both sign off on it, can we have the house burned down? ” Craig asked. Right off the bat. Right out of nowhere. He pulled their organized “Divorce” folder out and plopped it down in front of me. I absently flipped it open to the first few pages; a section detailing their house and their property, pictures included. “Um, arson is arson no matter how you cut it, Craig. ” I said, completely unsure what he was proposing. And confused-- the pictures of the house, the pictures I hadn’t paid much attention to at first, were stunning. Why in the hell would they burn down a gorgeous three-story home sitting on a healthy stretch of isolated land? “No. We wouldn’t be burning it down, not like that. I mean…” Craig was visibly frustrated and struggling to find the right words. I’d had couple’s burn each other’s property and threaten arson aplenty in the field, but asking permission first? “I mean, if we both signed off on it and if we used like the fire department or something, could we burn the fucker down? ” “Burn it down. ” Sidney had stopped grinding her teeth long enough to chime in, her voice dead-flat and emotionless. “I--” I was stunned. Speechless. “I would have to look into city ordinances. There would have to be a good reason, and it doesn’t look like the property is crumbling or a hazard to anyone’s safety--” “It’s killing us! ” Sidney shrieked. She had jerked upright so suddenly that her sunglasses had fallen slightly askew. An unmistakable pair of bruised-black eyes glared out at me. There was fire in Sidney’s eyes, at least. The woman was enraged, and maybe a little unhinged. “If the property is a hazard we could arrange for demolition I believe, yes. ” I said. “Again, with good reason, and I’d have to double-check ordinances... Is this something you want done immediately, is the house a priority? ” “It has to be after our divorce. ” Craig said. His voice was shaking. “We won’t be around to watch it burn. We can never see each other again once the ink dries, but I want that house turned into kindling if it’s the last thing I do on Earth. ” “Instead of liquidating assets and splitting profits, you want to just… burn it? ” I whispered. They both agreed. *** Over the final weeks of the year the Cadys would periodically appear and disappear at the oddest times and hours. They slowly revealed their story to me as we discussed their assets and filled out various paperworks. I’ll admit, I was so astonished by their claims that half of the time I forgot to bill the couple. I was haunted by their tale and unable to sleep as it was; keeping up with the Cady’s case and my other workload was taking its toll on me. I would come into work and hope they wouldn’t appear so I could get a night’s rest and my work done on time. There they would be, with another piece of the puzzle, always looking worse than the last time. It wasn’t just Sidney who came in looking like a punching bag, either. Sometimes Craig would be sporting a black eye or infected claw-marks on his skin. Once they both came in with a broken nose. They blamed their shared abuse on their Being: Sidney and Craig dated through high school and college. They had few downs, but all the ups one couple could have. They started careers in fields of their choosing, saved diligently and ate plenty of. 50 cent Ramen dinners and eventually bought the house of their dreams: an abandoned property on an overgrown patch of acreage in their hometown, a little spot on the map just a city over. A house they had both obsessed over since they were little. A passion project for the ages. They achieved their goal and started renovating the house and the land. As quickly as they cleared out the dust and the dirt, pried up loose floorboards and scrubbed away the weird graffiti in the basement, so quickly did their joy start to crumble. Sidney said it started with her being pinched in her sleep. She would startle awake, crying out in surprise and a little bit of pain, expecting to see her prankster husband going about seducing her the wrong way. Craig was never in their marital bed, however. Craig started sleepwalking the night they officially moved into the house. The Cadys told me he hadn’t slept in their bedroom the entire time they had lived in the house. He would crawl into bed with his loving wife and pray that that night would be the night he could just hold her tight enough to stay. No dice. Craig would stumble down to the freezing basement where they had tirelessly scrubbed away markings and graffiti. He claimed he would stand there, bare-footed and nearly-naked, for hours. Until Sidney would be pinched awake and come looking for him. They tried sleep specialists; perhaps they were both suffering from some sort of sleep condition neither of them had heard of? Sleep specialists didn’t help-- the Cadys claimed that when they slept in the hospitals or study rooms there was no sleep-pinching or sleep-walking. They showed me receipts of their doctors’ bills, showed me the results of the multiple tests and statements from the specialists. A severe insomniac myself, I even recognized a couple of the doctors names. They told me that the sleep issues were just the start; the couple quickly spiraled into madness and violence. Sidney was hearing a voice of a man; she said He would whisper to her all night long, while Craig was standing stock-still in the basement, and He would describe the ways that they would die. Craig was hallucinating. He kept seeing a tall form in the corner of his eye. Craig swore several times he even saw the man clearly-- and he said that the man winked at Craig and drew his finger across his throat in a slashing motion. Back to specialists they went. They needed sleep. They were snapping at each other, falling asleep at their jobs, being reprimanded and taking that anger home. Sidney said she had never been so angry and exhausted in her life. Craig admitted to violent fantasies where he murdered Sidney horribly and then himself. Their assets were hard to separate and divide-- both of the Cady's parents were dead. Sidney’s family had left her a hefty fortune and Craig’s parents had left him far from bad-off, too. They talked about how hard it was with no support; they had no surviving family and very few friends. When their erratic and irrational behavior started, the few friends they had disappeared, leaving Sidney to Craig and Craig to Sidney. Their motivation to talk to doctors and get help dwindled quickly. Their hallucinations got worse. The anger and violence escalated. At one point Craig had ripped up his dirty shirt and showed me a 2-inch long scar on his abdomen. They had laughed and kissed one another after Craig told me Sidney had stabbed him less than two months after moving into the house. They had tried to kill each other, kill themselves, and kill the house. They shared burn scars and horror stories. They stopped laughing and stopped smiling and got older and older the more they came to see me. And I started to believe them. They had proof of visiting specialists and psychiatrists. They had receipts from hiring exterminators, in case it was some kind of pest they were allergic to driving them crazy. They had receipts from hiring home inspectors to check for mold or gas leaks. They had a video of a priest blessing their home, and a video of Sidney chanting in a different language, and a video of Craig sitting on the edge of the roof with an axe and a beer in his hand. The Cadys then told me that when they couldn’t kill themselves in their house they attempted to do it outside. They put together a picnic of food, wine, and rat poisoning. They split the bottle of doused wine and, after falling into convulsions and vomiting, woke up in their bed with nothing more than splitting headaches. “We hadn’t felt that free in a year. ” Sidney told me, referring to the relief that came with simply stepping outside of the house. “You see why no one would take our case now. ” Craig had said sadly, dejected. “What I don’t see is how divorcing will fix this issue. It was nearly 8pm and we were still talking in my office, eating takeout and rehashing details I’ll never forget. “Can’t you just leave? ” They had both laughed at me bitterly, a false sound that sounded inhuman. “Don’t you think we’ve tried? We’ve tried to die, we’ve tried to kill, we’ve tried to burn the fucking house down. ” Sidney told me, revealing the angry red burn scars on her neck. “He won’t let us leave. But he keeps separating us in the house and pitting us against each other, this is all we can think of. ” “We were going to just move apart and never speak of it again, but neither of us can afford to not go through all the proper steps and channels, not with all the money we sank into the house and those specialists. That’s how we ended up here. Getting a proper divorce. And then we’ll never see each other again, but maybe we’ll survive. He sounded like he might have the faintest glimmer of hope, deep, deep down. The two of them had seemed so defeated I was pleasantly surprised. “I have only a little paperwork left to push through and then we’ll be done. You both can have happy and successful lives after this. ” They had looked at each other with such love and such sadness that it nearly broke my heart. I thought how sad and unfair it was that the couple before me didn’t get to stay together. They had suffered a bout of bad luck, or psychosis, or hell maybe a true haunting, and they were destroyed by it. “He has told both of us we don’t have much time left. ” Sidney told me. “This has to be done by next week. ” I told them it would be, of course. I was good at my job and I liked them, I wanted to help. They left that night and with slight smiles on their haggard, scarred faces. We had hope. *** Of course, life gets in the way. I hadn’t slept properly in months and my work was stacking up. My bosses were taking notice and were no longer excusing my “slacking off”. They wanted me to prioritize several other cases, and drop the “Crazy Cady” case or lose my job. I had other couples to help and rent to pay. I was muddled up and exhausted and I did as I was told. The Cady paperwork slipped from my mind and, suddenly, it was January 1st. I hadn’t received any calls or urgent emails. The Cady’s hadn’t shown up at the office, worse for wear or better off, or whatever happens when an apparent year-long curse is lifted. I got my work back under control and closed out the cases that had needed closing for a long, long time. I finally finished the Cady case and, having secured their signatures already, finalized the divorce. I tried to call them to have them come back to the office, discuss the final steps. Their numbers had been disconnected. I tried to email them and received an error message. I wrote them a handwritten letter and never heard back. My concern grew. I obsessively checked the news for the surrounding areas. I was constantly looking out for any hint of a couple that went bonkers and slaughtered each other. I started losing sleep and losing track of my job again. Finally, I reached out to an acquaintance who worked for the local PD. The pause on the other end of the line after I explained that I was worried for the Cadys was the longest of my life. He finally told me I should come down to his office, that he had something to tell me. *** I drove a town over and pulled into the police department with a heavy heart. Something had already told me that the Cadys were dead. I just didn’t know how, or when, or why. I still didn’t know if I fully believed their insane claims of hauntings and His presence. My friend, Bob, hustled me into his office and closed the door. He braced me for the bad news and asked if I wanted to see the case file. It was thick; too thick for a young couple that hadn’t gotten police involved during their domestic “differences”. I swallowed the lump in my throat and rifled through the file, glancing with growing dread at the horrific pictures buried within. “It’s the worst case we’ve seen here in decades, the worst case I’ve seen myself. ” Bob told me. He looked pale as he walked me through the crime scene and the case. He advised that I skip the autopsy pictures and, finally, told me the PD still had no answers. “There were no notes. There weren’t other fingerprints or footprints, there wasn’t any sign of forced entry. But the way they were killed, slaughtered … It was like some sort of Satanic sacrifice sort of ancient ritual that just isn’t supposed to happen anymore. ” Bob was visibly shaken. I took his advice and closed the folder before I got to the autopsy pictures-- the hundreds of pictures of blood splatter, brain matter, severed organs and the mutilated faces of the Cadys had been enough for me. Thick dark smoke had been seen on the 1st of the year and when the fire department arrived they found a brushfire singing the side of the house. And the Cadys slaughtered in their basement. The autopsy results put their death right after midnight of the 31st. “I went to school with them. The whole town knew they were going somewhere. They were too young to die, and no one should die like that. No one. ” I thanked Bob for his time and his honesty. I walked to my car in a daze and stared blankly at the divorce paperwork I had brought with me; some naive part of me had foolishly thought Bob would tell me the Cadys were fine, that I could see them and give them the good news. I cried on my way home, completely distraught by everything I had just learned and seen. *** I was one of the only ones who attended the joint funeral of Sidney and Craig Cady. It poured rain and the priest had little to say-- I recognized him from the videos of the house cleansing and blessing that the Cadys had shared with me. The Cadys, always organized and sensible, had taken care of their final will and testaments just after purchasing their first home together. Their caskets were gorgeous and the plot they had picked out was in a good place. They rested side by side. I stood at their grave long after the funeral ended with my doubts and my guilt. I remembered how I rooted for them to somehow stay together. I remembered how I didn’t really believe their claims at all, at first. And now I would be the only one to know the whole story, the only one left who knew what went on in their house. I remembered their request to make sure the fucker burned. It took a lot of paperwork, a few favors, several weird conversations and a lot of exasperated firemen, but eventually I honored the Cady’s request. The city issued a controlled burn of their property and condemned it, permanently. The rubble and ashes of their horror house would never be disturbed or built on again. I check in on the wreckage, and in on the Cadys, every now and again. I pulled myself together enough to keep my job, fall back in love with divorce work, and move up in the firm. I still obsess over their case, though. When I fall asleep I suffer from nightmares where I watch their slaughter and sometimes… sometimes I think I see a tall man in the corner of the room, basking in the blood of the crazy Cady couple.
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