The Haunting of Bell Mansion

by James Hunt

  The orb on the bed had grown brighter, and the souls trapped inside swirled around in frenzy. With every second that passed, Sarah’s connection with them grew stronger.

  “I open the portal!” The witch said. “And with the flesh of the last damned soul connects to the orb, our dark lord will rise!”

  All of those memories from her past and her childhood flooded back like a tsunami, the pressure from the push so intense that it consumed all of her senses. She heard only the curses and verbal abuse from her foster parents, she felt only the rough and drunken hands that bruised her body, and she tasted only blood from the fights with the other kids. She was transported back into a world of hunger, pain, and discomfort. And that was all that she would know until the very end.

  The witch raised her hands, smiling as she lifted her face toward the ceiling. “There is nothing that his power cannot restore. There is nothing that his fortune cannot buy. He is the end and the beginning, and he will shape this earth to its true image!” She lowered her face, her eyes burning as she stared straight into Sarah’s soul. “Death.”

  The scales crawling up her face covered Sarah’s eyes and blinded her to the room. And with the last of her senses gone, finality set in. She was deaf, mute, blind, and numb to the material world. This was how her life was going to end. This was how she would die.

  But then a shape started to form in the darkness. The pitch black broke apart, fading into a dull gray, like dirt swirling in water, dissolving and sinking toward the bottom.

  The legs formed first, walking closer toward her, the swirl rising to the waist and then the chest and arms and finally the head. And when the features filled into place, Sarah found Allister Bell standing in front of her.

  “Hello, Sarah.” The accent had a faint British tone to it, and a massive mustache covered most of his lips, making it look as if he was speaking without moving his mouth.

  Half expecting to have no voice, Sarah was surprised when she had the ability to answer. “You’re dead.”

  “I made a choice a long time ago that has haunted my family and others for nearly two hundred years.” Allister’s already pale cheeks lightened even more, and the dim light in his eyes grew lifeless as he lowered his head in shame. “I do not have the ability to end this curse.” He lifted his eyes. “But you can.”

  Another spasm of fear-induced pain pulled Sarah toward the darkness, and she struggled to stay in the moment. It was nearly over. Even though she couldn’t see what was happening anymore, she still felt it. “It’s too late.”

  “Someone else is coming,” Allister said. “A life to be sacrificed for yours. It will buy us some time.”

  “I’m not letting anyone else die,” Sarah said. “I’m not letting anyone else take the fall for something that I got myself into.”

  Anger flushed Allister’s cheeks, and he took one large and quick step toward her. “Then anyone that is left out there in the world that you care about will burn the moment the dark prince steps from his realm and into this one.” A flicker of life returned to his eyes, and for an even shorter moment, so did his humanity. “I will fight it as long as I can, but if you aren’t able to break the curse that binds me to this evil realm, then it won’t matter. He’s coming, Sarah.” Allister’s tone became grave. “And there isn’t any convincing him otherwise. So you can either do something once you’re free to save his soul or spoil what little time you’ll have left on this rock before the world burns and you burn with it.”

  Sarah had wanted a chance at redemption, and she had wanted an opportunity to do something good, and this was her shot to help all of the women she’d seen in her visions.

  “How much time can you give me?” Sarah asked.

  “I can make it last a day,” Allister answered. And even now, Sarah noticed the sweat breaking out on his face and the flashes of pain and anguish. “But don’t dawdle—GAH!” He buckled forward at the waist, clutching his stomach and dropping to his knees. He trembled, the ends of his mustache shaking as he lifted his head to look at Sarah. “You know all the players in this game. All you have to do is put the pieces in order.” Anger flashed over his face again, but this time it darkened his features, and the flicker of life in his eyes turned yellow and hot. “Run, Sarah. RUN!”

  Just like the transportation into the house, a harsh tug at her waist yanked Sarah backward and pulled her from the darkness.

  The moment Dell had his hands on the door, the gravity that had kept him pinned down was suddenly lifted. With his strength restored, he shouldered open the door, stumbling inside as if he was running downhill.

  Everyone turned toward him upon his entrance, but Dell’s gaze fell onto Sarah. The scales had crawled all the way to the top of her head, but they hadn’t completely covered her yet. But he spied the orb on the bed. With the witch about to make a move and Iris screaming bloody murder either from pain or from shock, he lunged toward the object.

  He couldn’t explain what propelled him toward the orb, but it consumed his thoughts. The rest of the world faded around him, and he clutched at the orb’s surface just as the witch reached for his arm. But while she tried to pull him back, it was too late.

  With his hand on the orb, Dell looked back toward Sarah just in time to watch the scales crumble from her face. He wasn’t sure if she saw him before she disappeared, but the only thing that mattered to him was the fact that she was safe.

  21

  The brief flash of Dell’s face was seared into her mind as she suddenly found herself cold and alone out in the middle of Bell’s main street, staring at the mansion high on the hill overlooking the town. After a minute of shock, she shivered, realizing the cold for the first time since she had been taken, and squeezed her arms around her shoulders. She stared up at the monstrous building on the hill, where Dell was now trapped, forced into whatever hell he had freed Sarah from joining.

  And while it was a welcome reprieve, Sarah knew it was only temporary. The clock was ticking, and the longer Sarah waited to get started, the less time she had to figure out how in the hell she was going to save Dell and stop that family from ending the world. With her grit returned, Sarah spun around and marched toward Dell’s cruiser, knowing that he had radioed for help but unsure of how long it was going to take for them to arrive. But what she hadn’t realized was who was sitting in the back of his squad car, handcuffs still binding his wrists.

  Brent stared at Sarah through the tinted back windows of the cruiser, and she blinked a few times before the realization of who it was finally sank in. It was a surreal moment, looking at him in the back of a squad car. She imagined the irony wasn’t lost on him now that she was free and he was not.

  Sarah had envisioned this moment for a long time and had replayed the meeting repeatedly. But now that it was here and she finally had a taste of the justice that she had longed for so much, she discovered that she didn’t care.

  The only thing that mattered now was getting Dell back and ending whatever shit storm the Bell family was trying to set upon the world.

  Sarah opened the driver’s side door, tossing only the briefest glance toward Brent, who pressed his face against the steel mesh backing that separated the backseat from the front. She reached for the radio blaring loudly from beneath the center of the console.

  Never having used a police radio before, Sarah fumbled the receiver awkwardly in her hands before finally squeezing the side and sending her voice echoing via radio waves. “This is Dell Parker’s cruiser. Is anyone there? I repeat, this is—”

  “Who the hell is this?” A woman’s voice blared from the speakers.

  “My name is Sarah Pembrooke,” she answered. “I’m outside Pat’s Tavern in Bell, and I need backup to this location immediately.” Sarah released the radio.

  “Been a while since you wanted the cops to show, sweetheart,” Brent said, his face still pressed up against the mesh.

  “Fuck you,” Sarah replied, snapping back at him.

  Brent laughed, more chat
ter spilling over the radio. He shook his head and then leaned back in his seat. “For a woman who prides herself on being worldly, you sure don’t know shit about the way the justice system works in this world, sweetheart. It’s all about perception and clout, and I’ve got both in spades. What do you have, huh? You’re just some shitty little street urchin that I happened to bed a few times due to boredom.” He nodded to the house. “You think Dudley Doright up there is going to be able to pull you out of trouble? Hell, I bet he’s already dead judging by the fact that you magically appeared in the center of the street, because whatever you’re dealing with seems more dangerous than anything I’ve done.”

  It was true. What she’d experienced over the past few days was more evil than the man cuffed in the backseat. And it was because of the evil that she’d experienced in that time frame that she was even able to look the man wearing those cuffs in the eye without dissolving into a puddle of fear. There were bigger fish to fry out there, and if she was going to save Dell, she’d need one hell of a frying pan.

  “Sarah?” The woman’s voice brought her attention back to the radio. “Sarah, are you still there?”

  “I’m here,” Sarah answered.

  “State troopers are en route,” she said. “Just stay put until they arrive, okay?”

  But as Sarah was about to respond, she let her finger off the talk box. It was the phrase “stay put” that triggered the wheels in her mind to turn.

  If the troopers arrived and detained her for questioning, it would cost valuable time she needed to figure out how to help Dell, and that wasn’t time that she could afford. There was no training manual for this, no instruction booklet. And she doubted there was anyone that she could turn to now for help, because the only person who would believe her was currently being tortured on the fifth floor of the house of the family that had started all of this.

  No, the best thing for Sarah to do was to try and finish this herself. There wouldn’t be any strings attached to hold her back, no red tape for her to cut through. It would be her brains and will and cunning against the worst evil the world had ever known. And in order for her to defeat that evil, she needed to understand it.

  The door to Pat’s—no, she thought. It had never been Pat’s place. It had belonged to the witch who had orchestrated this entire ordeal. Pat was nothing more than a shell, a ghost that had tricked her into friendship and then left her out in the cold to die.

  Either way, Sarah shouldered open the witch’s house, surprised to find it open and empty but knowing that it wouldn’t remain that way for much longer. She hurried to the bed, dropping to her knees, skidding toward the edge, and reached beneath the bedsprings for the chest she knew was there.

  Catching hold of the old piece of wood, Sarah pulled, her muscles straining as the big chest scraped against the floor.

  It was still unlocked from their previous tries, and Sarah flung the top open, immediately rummaging through the clippings the witch had saved. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon. I know you’re here. I know you’re—”

  Sarah froze when her fingers scraped against something hard, and she pushed aside the articles stacked on top of the notebook until she found the edges and heaved it out of the chest.

  After that she scrambled for the letters that they’d studied, and then found a spare bag and chucked everything inside. She headed for the door, but then stopped.

  Sarah turned back to the opened chest, and she walked back over, and searched inside. There might be something else inside that could help her, something that the witch didn’t want her to see, something—

  Sarah’s fingers scraped against something hard, and she lifted a book from the random junk inside the chest. It was old, and worn, and holding it brought a mixture of awe, fear, and excitement that made her heart thud heavily against her chest.

  “Codex Gigas.” Sarah ran her fingers over the title as she read it aloud, and a spine-tingling chill ran up her back.

  She stuffed it in the bag, and then did one last scan of the chest before running out of the house and headed toward the forest. What came next wasn’t just a fight for her life anymore, it was a fight for the survival of humanity.

  She was in the realm of good and evil, the lines clearly drawn. She only hoped that she had enough good in her to win the battle.

  The cuffs around Brent’s wrists had caused both his shoulders to go numb, and his back was horribly stiff and tight. When he watched Sarah appear out of nowhere in the middle of the road and make her way over to the car, he couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.

  But when she left, disappearing back behind the tavern without a word, leaving him locked up in the car, it was tough to stomach. A spasm of anger rippled through his body, and he slammed his back against the cushion, rocking the squad car back and forth.

  “Fucking bullshit,” Brent whispered angrily to himself even though he was alone. Out of all the ways for his career and life to come to a screeching halt, he never would have thought it was going to end like this.

  Despite the big talk he spit in front of Sarah, he knew that no matter how he came out of this, the investigation into his work and personal life would yield some unflattering results. He wasn’t going to walk out of this unscathed.

  “Gah, dammit.” Brent stared down at his foot. Ever since he’d been shoved into the back of the squad car, he hadn’t been able to shake the cold, tingling sensation at the bottom of his heel. It was a perpetual itch that he hadn’t been able to scratch, though with his hands tied behind his back, the metaphor had turned into a reality.

  And with his attention turned to the heel of his foot, he missed how the woman to his right got into the car without opening the door.

  “Hello, Brent.”

  “Shit!” Brent leapt, slamming his head into the roof before retreating to the driver’s side door. Hyperventilated breaths escaped his lips, and a cold sweat broke out all over his body. That little itch in the heel of his foot had ignited into a searing pain that seemed to be on fire and freezing at the same time.

  The woman wore a tight red dress. Her face was done up with minimal makeup, her jet-black hair flowing down in curls, her hair the same color as the dark shade of lipstick she wore. She giggled and wrinkled her nose, and Brent couldn’t shake the primal urges aching in his loins in a swirling combination of fear and lust.

  The woman smiled coyly and then inched closer toward Brent, who remained glued to the car door. “Relax, sweetheart.” A hint of mockery riddled her tone, and she walked her hand over the seats, her nails digging into the cushions until they pressed into the stiff fabric of his jeans. “I’m only here to help.”

  “How did you—” Brent licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry, and shook his head again in disbelief. “What the hell are you?”

  Gentle laughter rolled off the woman’s tongue as she reclined against the passenger-side door, lifting her legs and poking the pegs of her stiletto heels into the seat cushions, her legs spread open and inviting. “I’m your salvation. I’m the girl who’s going to get you out of this car before backup arrives. How does that sound?”

  Brent couldn’t keep his eyes from staring between the woman’s legs, and while his cheeks glowered red with shame, he couldn’t shift his gaze. “Like it’s too good to be true.”

  “Clever boy,” she said, her tongue rolling in pleasure in her mouth. “I only want the tiniest little favor from you in exchange for your freedom.” She placed her hands on her knees and tugged at her dress, pulling it up her knees slowly, exposing the pale, toned, and supple skin along her inner thighs.

  Brent’s mouth hung open, his mind as slack as his jaw. “What?”

  “That girl,” she said, still hiking the skirt up. “The one you’ve been looking for. I want you to find her, and I want you to bring her to me.” The hem of her skirt reached her waist, and she leaned forward, digging her nail beneath Brent’s chin and lifting his gaze to meet her own. “Think you can do that for me, big boy?”

 
Brent blinked a few times, a dull ache forming beneath his chin and in his groin. “Why… Why can’t you go and get her yourself? Why do you need me?”

  The woman showed her first signs of anger and displayed her displeasure by digging her fingernail deeper into Brent’s skin, hard enough to draw blood that trickled down her finger. “Because she’s being protected by something that I can’t get through.” She flashed a hint of doubt. “Something I can’t see.” Then she turned her attention back to him. “But you can get her, which is something I know you want.” She closed her eyes, sniffing the air around him. “You’re like a dog in heat.” When she opened her eyes again, the smile returned to her face. “So, what do you say, sweetheart?”

  “And what do I get out of this deal?” Brent asked.

  “Your freedom,” the woman answered. “All of these problems with the girl and the cops will go away.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that.”

  And while Brent wanted to answer, he found his tongue tied. But after rolling it around in his mouth a few times, he nodded. “All right.”

  “Good.” The woman gestured behind her, flinging her head toward the mansion. “I’ll be in the house.” She leaned forward and then kissed his lips. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

  Brent closed his eyes at the touch of her lips on his, and when he opened them again, he found the woman gone, and he was alone in the car. But just when he thought he’d been swindled, he lifted his hands to run his fingers through his hair.

  The cuffs were gone. He rubbed his wrists, the flesh tender where the zip ties had been, and he stared at the imprints with a certain level of wonder and awe. “What in the hell did I just get myself into?”

  The radio crackled, that woman, Faye, coming through the radio waves. “Sarah? Are you there? The troopers are turning off the highway now. Sarah?”

  And before the hint of red and blue lights could appear down the road, bathing the small town in color, Brent opened the car door and stepped out into the frigid night air. He discovered two surprising elements. The first was that his heel no longer itched. The second was that, despite knowing how cold it was and how he’d been shivering for the past hour in the back of that car, he wasn’t cold anymore. And he knew that he had the lady in the red dress to thank for that, though he figured both would come back to bite him in the ass.