13 Hauntings

by Clarice Black

  “Is someone there?” Robert asked.

  “Do you want there to be?” The voice whispered in his ear.

  Robert jumped. He spun around, nearly losing his balance on the stairs. He caught the banister and steadied himself.

  A girl stood on the step below. She wore a colourful panelled skirt that swirled around her in an invisible wind. Her jet-black hair was loose and swirled around her pale, beautiful face.

  “Where’d you come from?” Robert asked.

  “I live here.” She climbed the stair, touching his chest slightly with her hands. She climbed ahead of him and he stared after her, mesmerized by the grace of her movements. “Come, I’ll show you to your room.”

  Robert followed her as if in a trance. They reached the landing but Robert still felt like he was climbing stairs because his feet were unsteady. The girl went inside a door and Robert followed. The door clicked shut behind him and he was engulfed in darkness.

  “Hey, where’d you go?” Robert groped in the dark. His hands brushed against something hairy and cold. He pulled his hands back. Unpleasant images rose in his mind. “Little girl, where are you?”

  “Here.”

  The voice was full of such malice that Robert backed away. He stumbled in the dark and hit his head against the wall. He felt talon like hands clutching his shoulders and lifting him up.

  “What are you? What do you want?” he whimpered.

  “Your life.”

  Pain slashed at Robert’s temple and he knew no more.

  *

  Milly groaned awake. She had had a terrible night. She had been plagued with such vivid dreams that at one point she thought it all happened for real. In her dreams a woman was chasing a man and dragging him to his death right through Milly, and she stood powerless, unable to move out of the way.

  To avoid recalling last night’s dream she busied herself in her daily chores when all of a sudden she heard a loud thumping noise coming from the guest rooms. Milly stood still. She had a very bad feeling about this. She put down her cleaning rag and went to the entrance of the gloomy hall.

  She could hear scampering noises from upstairs. Fear trickled down her spine. She climbed the stairs slowly, cocking her ears to hear any other sounds that came from the rooms. The landing was empty and all the doors were closed. Milly knew that only one of them was occupied.

  As she watched, the room she had lodged Robert in clicked open. She froze with fear. She could see that the room was empty, but was it occupied? She walked forward, her muscles tensed. She poked her head inside the door.

  There was no sign of Robert and every single thing in the room was intact, as if had not been used at all, yet something wasn’t right about that. Why did it make dread settle in the pit of her stomach?

  Milly rushed down the stairs, skipping the steps in between to get to her mother. She was out of breath and felt her heart thumping against her ribcage

  Val was arranging the new menus on the bar when Milly finally reached her.

  “What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “He’s not there.” Milly panted.

  “Who’s not there?” Val looked concerned.

  “The lodger. He’s gone.”

  “What?” Val sprinted behind the counter and went into the gloomy hall.

  Bob walked in from the kitchen, a curious look on his face. “What’s happened?”

  “The lodger’s gone,” Milly shuddered. “I think he was murdered.”

  “What?” Bob paled. “Why would you say that?”

  “I heard…”

  “You’re right, he’s gone.” Val was back and looked right miffed. “He didn’t pay!”

  “That’s the least of our worries.” Milly was in tears. “There’s something wrong here. Didn’t you hear that loud thump earlier?”

  Bob and Val looked at each other. It was obvious that they hadn’t heard a thing. It was eighth grade all over again when they had dropped Milly off at her grandparent’s while they went on holiday and she had seen a little boy in the garden that no one else could see. They hadn’t believed her then, and they didn’t believe her now.

  “We still need to inform the police,” Milly insisted. “This is the second lodger none of us saw leave.”

  “It’ll be horrible for business,” Val bit her lip.

  “Really?” Milly spat. “Not the fact that people come to lodge in but no one sees them lodge out?”

  “I‘ll go to the police station with Norman.” Bob sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

  Milly started. She turned to the back of the pub where Norman was standing staring at her. She felt ice cold dread seep into her bones. Had he been there all along?

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE

  Visions

  Milly stirred the pot.

  There had been no business that day because the police had needed to inspect the entire premises. Bob had frowned as the crowd gathered, gleaned as much information as it could, then walked off to the other pub in town to discuss it over drinks.

  Milly knew he was upset with her but she couldn’t help what she had heard. She warmed the soup up on the stove and brought it out to the bar to eat with some bread. She didn’t want to go upstairs. Bob and Val were out mingling, convincing people that the police had found nothing.

  Nothing…

  It irked Milly that there was no clue, no evidence, nothing to substantiate her claim. What had happened to both men? She finished her dinner and brooded on the sounds she’d heard and the nightmares that plagued her.

  A sharp knock on the door nearly threw her out of her skin.

  She couldn’t see anybody through the window. Was it mum and dad?

  She got off her stool and went to the front door. She peered out of the window but it was dark and she couldn’t see very well. She cautiously opened the door. The night was empty. No one stood on the front step. Milly opened the door wide and stepped out into the cold night.

  The door swung shut behind her like someone had slammed it with great force. Milly shrieked and jumped back. She stood in the street without a jacket, shivering from cold and fright.

  What had just happened?

  Movement through the windows caught her eye. She bit down to make her teeth stop chattering. A swirl of colours, red, white, blue, and green. She could hear laughter and a snatch of song. Was someone dancing in the pub?

  “I can see her too.”

  Milly screamed for the second time in two minutes.

  Norman stood beside her. He wasn’t looking at her but inside the pub.

  “Where did you come from?” Milly held her chest.

  “Home.” Norman shook his head to the side. “I can hear her, too.”

  Milly peered at him, then back inside the pub. She could hear only snatches and see flashes of colour like a badly tuned television channel.

  “Who do you think it is?” Milly asked.

  “Girl.”

  Milly rolled her eyes. That was really helpful.

  Milly stared ahead into the pub. There was definitely something there and the fact that Norman was experiencing it too, gave her some hope. It didn’t endear Norman to her, but then he was much too creepy for that to happen.

  I have to investigate, she decided. She waited for her parents to come home before going inside.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO

  Wits End

  Milly was at her wits end.

  Her parents were already upset with her over the events of two days prior, making it harder for her to get any investigation done. Today was another matter. She had begged Val to let her clean the lodging rooms instead. It had been a hard sell but she had finally got the job.

  Standing in the middle of the last room, Milly couldn’t help but feel defeated. She had checked every nook and cranny but found nothing a spirit could be holding on to. If that wasn’t frustrating enough, she had constantly felt eyes on the back of her neck, making her jumpy.

  Throwing her hands up in defeat,
Milly was about to go out onto the landing when she heard footsteps on the stairs. They were quiet and disjointed.

  Step. Pause. Step. Step. Pause. Step. Long pause. Step. Pause.

  Fear choked her throat. Milly stepped back into the room, realising that this was the room Robert had been lodging in. Dread sloshed in her bowels and she felt a keen pain in the centre of her head.

  She was coming.

  The door swung open.

  Milly screamed.

  A bespectacled man screamed louder.

  They stared at each other.

  He wasn’t a ghost. He looked nothing like a malevolent ghost is supposed to, unless accountants went into the haunting business after they died.

  “I’m sorry.” He said. “There must be a mistake. The lady at the bar assigned me this room by mistake.”

  “Oh, no.” Milly sighed with relief. “That’s my mum. I was just cleaning up.”

  “Oh, okay.” The man looked more relieved than Milly felt. “Can I come in?”

  “Of course.” Milly hurried out. A thought struck her and she stopped. “Excuse me, sir?”

  “Please call me Paul.”

  “Paul,” Milly smiled. “Were you just on the steps?”

  The man blushed.

  “I can explain.” He placed his small bag and huge coat on the bed. “I was admiring the staircase. I couldn’t help but notice the stunning interior of the building. Any idea how old this place could be?” Paul inquired.

  “Not a clue. All I know is that it was deserted and the previous owners had no interest in keeping it.” Millay now knew why. “I hope you have a nice stay.”

  Milly rushed down the stairs before she was missed by Val.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

  The Clue

  After a refreshing shower to clean the dirt of the road off, Paul came down to the pub for an early supper. The majority of the tables were occupied but the patron’s daughter, the one he had bumped into earlier, ushered him to a table reserved for lodgers. He was quite impressed with the establishment, but especially the interior.

  An antiques dealer by trade, Paul had to travel a great deal to scout new items and garner their worth. What he saw in the walls and structure of the Haunt was fascinating. He wondered how much the place had sold for, and how much it had cost to refurbish while keeping the bones of the structure. It was impressive work indeed.

  While he waited for his pub roast, three young men walked in. They were red in the face and looked like the kind of boys who had no worries about money or any responsibilities to keep them up at night. They scouted around, and when they found no available chairs, made a beeline for Paul’s table.

  “Excuse me, sir.” The more handsome of them said. “Could we share your table this evening?”

  “Of course,” Paul smiled. He was never averse to company. “My name is Paul, by the way.”

  “I’m Sean,” said Handsome. “And this is Brian and Cullum.” He pointed to his companions who looked like something out of the Three Stooges.

  “Nice to meet you all.” Paul made room for them.

  “You’re new in town, eh?” Sean asked.

  “I’m passing through, yes.”

  “Are you staying the night?” Brian guffawed, eyeing his friends as if they shared some inside joke.

  “I am indeed.” Paul sipped his ale. “I’m sorry, but am I missing something?”

  Sean sobered up and nudged his companions to do the same.

  “It’s nothing really,” he said. “Only two nights ago, the police were here because the patrons thought one of their lodgers went missing. Police failed to find any evidence though,” Sean added hastily. “I mean, Milly told me that a lodger before that had left without checking out, and then this one, too… maybe they just get really bad lodgers.” Sean laughed.

  Paul sipped his ale and eyed Sean carefully. Were these boys taking the mickey out of him? No, they seemed genuine enough. Milly, the patron’s daughter brought his meal and he noticed how the boys wouldn’t meet her eye. Curious, very curious.

  The boys ordered their meals and then began to tell him more entertaining aspects of Drerie Haunt. He listened with half an ear, laughing where appropriate but his mind was focused elsewhere. He knew he had sensed something odd about the place. He hadn’t been able to place his finger on it but maybe this was a clue.

  Once he was finished with his meal, Paul thanked the boys for keeping him entertained and retired to his room. The staircase was gloomy, which was surprising to Paul because the light fixture didn’t work and there was no moon tonight. The hall should have been pitch-black.

  He stood in front of the bedroom door and looked at the small ornate key in his hand. It was made of silver and was intricately carved. It was cold to the touch, even though Paul had been holding it for some time now. There was definitely an aural residue to it.

  The reason Paul was such a good antiques dealer, was because he could detect spiritual residue on objects. He had found many ghost-sources in his travels but most of them were harmless tokens. This one sounded sinister and the sooner he found it the better.

  Paul unlocked the door and entered the room. He made sure to lock the door behind him and set about doing his own sleuthing. Moving his hand on the surface of the wall, he looked for a secret opening or a door but found nothing.

  Next, he opened the drawers of the night stand looking for anything unusual or maybe a lock inside or a secret drawer but all he found was a packet of wet tissues, a Bible, a notepad, and a pen.

  Paul then bent down to look under the single bed that was neatly made up with a plain white bed sheet and a pillow. He felt the floor with his hand for a loose floorboard or a staircase that would take him underground, but in vain. He was baffled when he withdrew his hand because it came out clean, without a speck of dust on it as he had expected.

  Tired from the day’s journey and the events of the night, he gave up on his quest until morning and went to the hall bathroom. Brushing his teeth, he glimpsed in the mirror while his mind wandered about the whole situation; when all of a sudden, he felt as if someone stared at him just for a fraction of second. He turned to look behind him into the hall but there was nothing more than his own shadow and he remembered that he had been cautious to lock the bedroom door behind him.

  He continued to thoroughly brush his teeth and retired to bed. He dozed off as soon as he hit the bed and slept soundly through the night.

  The next day Paul woke with the sun as was his habit. After a reviving shower, he stood in the middle of the room observing each and every thing, when he realized that he forgot to check under the mattress.

  Taking off the bedsheet, he turned the mattress upside down and tried to find a hole or a stitching that had come undone, but it was in perfect shape. Feeling annoyed, he carelessly threw the mattress on the bed as it was before. To his amazement, he found a zipper which he hadn’t noticed before. He probed the coverlet, shoving his hand inside it.

  He felt a small piece of twisted thread like material with a pointy screw like thing on the other side. He extracted his hand out of the coverlet and examined it closely. He heard a movement outside his room so he hurriedly zipped up the coverlet and made his bed haphazardly.

  It pained him to leave the bed in such a mess but it couldn’t be helped. Paul sat on the messy bed and examined his find. It was a small ornament; an antique earring that could not be found in just any lady’s jewellery box.

  Paul dressed up and packed his belongings. He made sure to keep the small earring in his shirt pocket so that he wouldn’t misplace it. At the moment, Paul wasn’t certain if the earring had anything to do with the missing lodgers, but he knew it would turn out to be useful in unravelling the truth about the missing men.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR

  The Girl – Aged Twenty-Three

  Aishe was dying.

  She could feel it in her brittle bones.

  Licking her parched lips, Aishe stumbled out of bed to get so
me water but the jug was empty. She glanced up and caught her reflection in the fractured mirror hanging on the wall. Her once luxuriant hair had fallen out, her skin was peppered with open sores, and her small teeth were rotting in her head. She looked like she was sixty, not twenty-three.

  That’s what happens when you’re whored out at the age of six, Aishe thought bitterly. Warm liquid ran down her legs and she could see that it was blood. She had been bleeding almost constantly for ten days now.

  Feeling light headed at the sight of her own blood, she sat down heavily on the floor. A sob escaped her cracked and bleeding lips. What had she ever done to deserve a life such as this?

  A snatch of lullaby made her hitch her breath and listen. Smoke stirred in the corner of her vision and she turned to see the woman she had met once before.

  The woman was beautiful and reminded Aishe of herself. She struggled to steady her focus and moved in an effort to sit up.

  “No, it’s all right. Don’t move. You’re tired and you must rest,” the woman said, gliding close to Aishe.

  “Who are you?” The girl asked in a voice barely audible but the ghost didn’t need words to understand. It knew all the questions that occupied her mind. “I know that we have met before but I don’t remember exactly.” The presence of the ghost was comforting to her.

  “I am the reason for your distress; I am the one whose sins you have paid for, the cause of your destitution.” The ghost began to cry. “But I am here to take away your pain and set you free from this ruthless world and from the clutches of the mad man who has brought this upon you.”

  It’s a funny plant, hope. Give it half an inch in your heart and it will bloom within seconds to take over the whole damned soul. Aishe dared to hope; even after her body and soul had been broken beyond measure, she hoped.

  Footsteps; firm and heavy came down the hall. Aishe would recognize them in the depths of hell. Dr. Blayne opened the door, his narrowed eyes inspecting Aishe as if she were some insect or slug.