So Fell The Sparrow

by Katie Jennings

  When she reopened her eyes, she looked deeper into the fabric of the home. The negative energy caused by Ray’s spirit was like a dark, spreading stain, seeping its way throughout the house. It surrounded them, inching its way menacingly over the floor and up the walls, on the ceiling, and into corners. The staircase was relatively unaffected because Sally’s energy was strong there. For now, anyway. The stain was making headway through the house, expanding its reach. Soon it would encompass everything.

  And Sally would have nowhere left to run.

  “He’s growing stronger.” Jackie stepped under the second-floor banister and stared up at what had once been a broken railing. The twisted, gremlin creature of Ray’s demented evil hung there like a primate, swinging cheerfully back and forth. Taunting her. Daring her to pursue it.

  “His shadow creature is stronger as well.”

  “I’ve seen it.” Grace walked into the entryway, Ian at her side. She crossed her arms and followed Jackie’s gaze, though she wasn’t able to see the monster this time. “Little bastard likes to watch me shower.”

  Ian shot her a horrified look, but she only shrugged.

  Jackie faced the others, her expression grim. “Things are getting worse. We need to perform a cleansing ritual. Probably more than one.” She rubbed her forearms to chase away the chill she felt. The spirits didn’t like her talking about rituals. “Unfortunately, I’ll need some help. I can only do so much on my own.”

  “We know some people,” Ian said.

  Grace scowled. “Oh great. More strangers.”

  “These are good strangers,” Alex informed her, perking up at the idea. “Why didn’t we think of this before?”

  Jackie smiled at him, though it was lined with sorrow. “The sooner they get here the better.” She looked around the room again, eyes filled with terrible images the others couldn’t see. “There’s more than just one evil spirit in this house.”

  Grace watched Jackie thoughtfully, her heart filling with a question that seemed so ridiculous, and yet...“Do you see Nellie?”

  Jackie shook her head. “No, darling. She has moved on. The spirits here are damned, tormented, and lost to evil. They don’t know how to leave.”

  “Which is why we have to show them the door.” Ian wrapped his arm around Grace. “Don’t worry, Doc. We’ll make this right. I promise.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  * * *

  Grace sat in Nellie’s old chair on the front porch, pretending to read a book. Inside, Ian and Jackie were preparing dinner while Alex toyed with his Mel Meter at the dining table. She could have joined them, but the urge to be alone for a while had won out over the desire to socialize.

  Even though she wanted to be relieved that Nellie’s spirit wasn’t trapped in the house like Sally, part of her was disappointed. It occurred to her that if Nellie had stayed then maybe her parents had stayed as well. Then she could communicate with them one last time.

  But Jackie insisted that wasn’t the case. When Grace had cornered her and asked about the time Jackie claimed to have seen the doctor, presumably Grace’s father, Jackie seemed hesitant to offer any hope that Grace could reach him in the afterlife.

  She said that the spirit world was tricky and that it was like portals. Some spirits possessed the ability to travel, in a sense, from one location to another. Many of them didn’t even realize they were doing it. So the odds of contacting her father without doing a full séance, which Jackie discouraged, were very slim.

  Grace brought her knees to her chest and hugged them close. Why did she feel jealous? Jackie’s…condition was nothing to be envied. If anything, Grace knew she should be thrilled she only saw vague remnants of what Jackie experienced on a day-to-day basis. It was scary enough as it was.

  She just couldn’t escape the fact that Jackie had seen her father. She’d heard his voice, saying that he was sad to see his daughter in the house. That it was a burden she should have never had to bear. At the time, she hadn’t believed Jackie. Now she did and it mortified her that her father had been so close and she had shut him out.

  She wondered if things would have been different if she had been open then. Would she have been able to sense him the way she could Sally? Hear his voice, faint and distant as it may be, whispering in her ear?

  Tears sprang into her eyes at the thought. She knew there was nothing she could do now to change it. There was no point in dwelling on what might’ve been.

  She spotted a bright-silver BMW cruising up the street heading straight for the Sparrow House. Shock paralyzed her and she could do nothing but sit and watch as the car came to a stop behind Ian’s van. She watched as her worst nightmare stepped out of the driver’s seat.

  Rick saw her sitting there and a concerned look came over his impeccably handsome face. He was purebred Italian with the dark hair and charming hazel eyes his father and grandfather before him had all been known for. He wore his favored gray slacks and crimson red button up shirt, sleeves perfectly pressed and pinned with gold cufflinks. There was nothing casual about his appearance. Instead, he was full of conceit and egotism all rolled into a five-foot eleven package.

  He jogged up the pathway, giving her a moment to collect herself. When he came to a stop before her, she tried not to feel any pain. He wasn’t worth it.

  “What are you doing here?” She lowered her legs, feeling awkward and foolish.

  “I can’t believe you came all the way out here, Grace. What were you thinking?” Rick frowned disapprovingly. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

  He stepped closer to touch her face but she pushed him aside and got to her feet. “Wasn’t blocking your phone number and kicking you out enough of a hint to you? We’re done. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  He grabbed her arm to keep her from going inside. He tried to look apologetic but instead, he only looked irritated. “I told you I was sorry. It was just a mistake.”

  “A mistake?” She yanked herself free of his grasp, the urge to slap him erupting like a volcano inside of her. Instead, she crossed her arms, knowing it would only make things worse. “Mistakes are innocent. What you did was cruel and you know it.”

  He let his resentment fuel his sense of control over her, his inherent belief that he knew what was best. “You left me to wander the streets naked, Grace. Who does that?”

  “Hmm, let me think.” She tapped her lower lip with her fingertip, temper sparking. “Oh, that’s right. A pissed off bitch does that. And you know what I am? I’m a pissed off bitch.”

  “Honey, you’re letting your emotions get the better of you. You know what happens when you do that, don’t you? You end up creating a false sense of victimhood that hurts you more than it helps.” He grabbed her again, this time squeezing her upper arms firmly so she was forced to look at him. “Just go grab your things and get in the car. I’m taking you back home.”

  “I am home,” she stated flatly, disgusted by his habit of psychoanalyzing everything she did. God knew why she ever stayed with him. It had been such a weak attempt at a perfect life, like so many of the other things she used to cling to.

  She found it amusing how much her perception had changed after dealing with death.

  Ian suddenly emerged from inside the house, eyes on fire as he saw Grace pinned against a strange man.

  “I heard shouting, what’s going on?” he demanded, a dish towel in one hand and a hothouse tomato in the other.

  Grace felt embarrassment flush over her face. “Ian, this is Rick. Rick, this is Ian. Rick was just leaving.”

  Rick let out a light laugh and released her. She rubbed her arms irritably as he faced off with Ian. “This is my fiancé, Ian. I don’t know if she told you she was engaged before she let you into her bed, but she is. Now, I’m not the jealous type, so I’m willing to let this slide. But you should probably leave now and forget any of this happened.”

  Ian’s brows shot up. “That’s nice. But I’m not sleeping with her.”r />
  Rick didn’t look convinced. “Maybe not yet. But I can see what this is.” He looked back to Grace, shaking his head unhappily. “What happened to the girl I was going to marry? She would have never come all the way out here to a rundown old house to fool around on me. She had more class than that. I’m disappointed in you, Grace. Your parents would be, too.”

  Grace’s hackles rose defensively. “The girl you were going to marry walked in on you screwing her best friend.”

  Rick sighed, impatience simmering along the edges of his cool reserve. “You’re going to have to get over that, honey. We’re getting married.”

  “I don’t see a ring on my finger.” She yelped when he suddenly reached out and grabbed her hand, lifting it to inspect for the ring.

  “What did you do with it? That was a very expensive piece.”

  “I had it sent to your office, but apparently you’ve been too busy screwing around to check your mail,” she spat, wishing she had thrown the ring down the garbage disposal instead. He’d probably just slip it onto another woman’s finger within six months.

  Ian stepped smoothly between Grace and Rick, crossing his arms. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

  Alex and Jackie joined them and, without a word, Alex went to stand at Ian’s side. He was taller than all of them and nodded with false politeness at Rick.

  “What’s up?”

  Rick looked furious, his façade breaking as he realized he was losing control. “This is ridiculous.”

  Grace blinked back the surprise at seeing two men standing up for her, men who had been nothing but strangers mere weeks ago. It humbled her in ways she couldn’t even comprehend.

  “Please go, Rick,” she said as she stood beside Ian.

  Rick looked her straight in the eye as he evaluated her. When he spoke again, he seemed to have decided she wasn’t worth it. “Fine. Goodbye, Grace.”

  He backed off the porch, holding his head high as he stalked off. Suddenly, he turned back around and called out to her, eager to get one last shot in. “Your father never wanted you to come to this place, honey. He knew it would be bad for you. Clearly, he was right.”

  Before she could think of what to say in response, he’d hopped in his car and drove off. She let the finality of it all sink in as she tried to ease the tension in her body.

  Ian sighed. “Well, at least that’s over.”

  She nodded, determined to push all thoughts about Rick and his ominous knowledge of the house aside until it had to be faced. Until she couldn’t ignore it any longer. “Is dinner ready? I’m starving.”

  “Yeah. Just about done.” He handed her the hothouse tomato and followed her and the others into the house. The door closed with a final click behind them, shutting out all remnants of her past life for good.

  * * *

  “Where are they now?”

  “In the walls.” Jackie ran her fingertips over both walls of the upstairs hallway as she retreated backward, facing Alex’s camera with a sly smile. Her eyes drifted up and she spoke on a long, measured breath. “On the ceiling.”

  Alex resisted the urge to look, knowing he wouldn’t see anything. Even with the last dying rays of the sun filtering in from the rooms, her gift was hers alone.

  Ian and Grace were busy rummaging through photographs downstairs, searching for one that matched the woman they saw on the dock. Alex had seized the opportunity to take Jackie upstairs for a little side project he hoped Great American Paranormal fans would be interested in.

  He was going to call it Confessions of a Medium. While it would drum up some interest and be a great addition to the footage they were getting of the investigation itself, it also gave him an excuse to be around her.

  He turned the camera away and gently pushed her up against the wall, shocking her back to reality with a kiss as tender and easy as summer rain. Her eyes closed as she welcomed him in, her hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. The feel of his body pressed against her own sent her mind reeling with hopeless need. Memories of what his skilled hands were capable of in the dark flashed over her, shutting out everything else.

  She let out a frustrated moan when he pulled back.

  His mouth lifted in a crooked grin. “Something tells me you like it when I kiss you.”

  A breathy laugh escaped her throat as she rubbed at her heart, startled to find it fluttered like a breathless teenager’s. He made her feel young and carefree, no longer burdened by the weight of her sight. He gave her something she had never before felt.

  True acceptance.

  Realizing she was getting dangerously close to falling down a long and damaging road, she slipped out of his grasp and continued down the hall. She shot him a friendly look, crooking her finger. “There’s more to see.”

  He smiled again, not noticing the war she silently waged within her own mind.

  “So, what are the spirits doing?”

  He focused the camera on her face, capturing every flicker of her dark eyes, every lift of her mouth, every crease of her brow. A range of emotions passed over her features as she absorbed the spirit presence surrounding them. The shock of pain, the grip of fear, the sorrow of lost love. It all existed within the house, and though he could only sense them intuitively, he knew she witnessed them in all their horrific glory.

  “They want to break free,” she said softly, her gaze unfocused as she watched spirits straining against the walls, trying to claw their way out.

  She understood that they were all connected to the house. Former owners, caretakers, nannies, maids…but something kept them tied to the house in death and wouldn’t let them go.

  Or maybe it was they who wouldn’t let the house go.

  She shivered involuntarily, and all humor fled from her face. “I understand now.”

  “Understand what?” Alex shifted the camera.

  She froze just before one of the spare bedrooms, unable to speak. What she saw had her questioning everything. A woman fitting the description of the apparition Grace saw by the harbor stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by dark wisps of energy. It flowed around her like smoke, snaking around her feet and from the palms of her hands.

  The ivory dress she wore was covered in blood, but Jackie noticed something else. The woman was completely drenched in water.

  Jackie’s hands began to shake as she continued to stare at the woman, noticing her pitch-black eyes and pale, wet skin. Water dripped down the sides of her face from her mop of wet brown hair, pooling to the floor at her feet. A fishing line dangled from the hem of her dress, a tiny, ancient hook caught in the fabric. Her mouth twisted in a cruel, mocking snarl as she eyed Jackie with contempt.

  “She didn’t die in this house.” Jackie backed away, not liking the waves of fury that rolled off the woman.

  “Who?”

  “Mercy.” Fear gripped her throat until she could hardly breathe. She had to pull at Alex’s shirt to urge him back down the hall toward the staircase. There the energy was calmer, more innocent. Sally was waiting for her, her face contorted with sorrow.

  “How do you know?” Alex set aside the camera and helped lower her onto one of the top steps. He held her close to ward off the tremors pulsing through her body.

  “I just know.” She shut her eyes, consumed by the powerful emotions of Mercy’s spirit. It was unlike anything she’d come across before. Such a combination of wrath, bitterness, fear, and torment. How one spirit could embody all those things…it could only mean that in life she had, too.

  It became clear to her that what they were dealing with was far beyond anything they could have imagined. “I don’t think her body is in the basement.” She wrung her hands together, her eyes glassy and unseeing.

  “Is there a body down there at all?”

  She nodded, but said nothing. There was nothing she could say—she was just as disturbed and confused by the revelation as he was. What she really needed was time to think it over, time away from the house.

  Alex felt
helpless. “Is there anything I can do?”

  She shook her head as she rose precariously to her feet. “No. I just need to go clear my head. I’ll talk to you later.”

  She hurried down the steps and out the front door into the daylight. Her Jeep awaited her, Gatsby smiling cheerfully at her from the front seat. She climbed inside and reached for him, letting the feel of his soft fur and adoring kisses soothe her.

  As she pulled away from the house, she did her best not to look back. She knew exactly what she would see if she did.

  From the upstairs window, Mercy watched her leave.

  * * *

  Alex went immediately to both Ian and Grace, finding them sitting on the living room floor with photographs scattered around them. He was edgy and restless, something Ian wasn’t used to seeing from his easygoing friend.

  “What’s wrong? Why’d Jackie leave?”

  Alex tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans to keep from pulling his hair out. “She saw Mercy upstairs.”

  “What?” Grace dropped the photograph she’d been holding, the image of that ghostly, violent face in the waters of the harbor flashing before her eyes. Fear had her imagining that face hovering over her while she slept. “I thought we decided the upstairs was safe.”

  “Jackie says the bad energy is creeping through the whole house now. The staircase is one of the last calm spots, and it’s only because Sally stays there.”

  Ian’s eyes narrowed. “Did she say anything about Mercy? Anything we can use?”

  Alex shook his head. “Not really. Other than it might not be Mercy’s body in the basement.”

  Grace frowned. “You mean if there’s a body in the basement. Which there probably isn’t, especially if she’s going back on what she said before.”

  “She’s just getting different vibes now,” Alex defended. “We made assumptions about it being Mercy, but Jackie never concluded that for sure. I guess something about Mercy told her that she didn’t die in the house.”

  Both Grace and Ian hovered in thoughtful silence, unsure what to make of Alex’s statement. If Mercy hadn’t been killed in the house by her father, then what happened to her?