Haunted House Tales

by Riley Amitrani

  Each day, Amy improved bit by bit, and the hospital released her on the fourth day when her headaches had faded, and Dr. Dale saw no more reason to keep her admitted. Peters had tried to get Amy to stay in a hotel where he could watch over her until she was fully recovered, but she would not hear of it.

  “Look, Malcolm…I know you are feeling responsible, but it was just an accident. I’m fine. I need to get back to work, and I am sure you have clients to see as well. I really appreciate all you’ve done—it was way beyond the call, OK?”

  Peters nodded reluctantly, but was still unable to make his concerns over a paranormal connection to her accident go away. Each day Amy had insisted she was getting better, though—and this was what put Peters on edge—she felt different following her concussion. She could not put it into words, exactly, just that she felt like a different person since the accident. That was what Peters was most concerned over, but he could not just keep hanging around her and pestering her when she insisted that he leave.

  “You’ll call if you need anything?”

  “I will, Malcolm,” Amy replied, just to get him to take off more than anything.

  ……….

  Amy returned to The Review two days later, assuring both Sophia and Lynch that she was perfectly fine. She could see the look of concern in Lynch’s face, but due to her long-term knowledge of Lynch, Amy could not help but wonder if this was more of a concern over a possible lawsuit and equipment that should have been better secured. She knew Lynch liked to pinch pennies where he could, and she suspected—not proudly, though—that he might never have done what was needed after that first light fell weeks earlier. But she really did feel fine now…actually better than fine…better than she had since having had to come crawling back to Swinson in defeat.

  Sophia was still filling in for the ailing actress, but the rehearsals and study for the performance were not filling her days completely. As such, Lynch insisted she help out Amy with routine chores at the theatre, even though Amy insisted she could handle them on her own. The very next day, a truck arrived delivering what looked to Amy like new lights and booms. Apparently, she thought to herself, two accidents and sidestepping a potential legal suit had pushed Lynch to finally fix up the aging infrastructure of the stage. Amy and Sophia were both in high spirits as they travelled in and out of the truck moving the new equipment to the backstage. Sophia was flying high as she anticipated the first real live audience of her life as the backup for the indisposed actress, and Amy was just feeling grateful to be up and around in one piece. But she had to admit it as more than that…it was like she had been renewed…or revitalized or something, though her actual situation in Swinson had not changed. She no longer felt any jealousy toward Sophia and that was helping her attitude as well.

  Amy was just setting down a few light boxes in the wings of the stage when she heard this horrific crash followed by Sophia’s cry of pain coming from the back of the truck. She ran to the alley where the truck was parked to find Sophia lying under a couple of crates that had toppled over in her absence. They had known they were too heavy to handle alone, so Amy and Sophia were planning on teaming up to unload them. Sophia was crying in agony when Amy rushed inside the trailer and quickly but gently removed enough of the weighty crates from Sophia’s frame to relieve the pressure from her torso.

  “Sophia!” Amy cried as she bent to her on the floor of the trailer, “can you move?”

  “I…it…” Sophia gasped unable to form a complete, coherent sentence.

  “Don’t move. Darren! Get the EMTs here now!”

  Amy watched as they loaded Sophia into the ambulance and then jumped in the back with the assistant attendant as they sped to the hospital. This is getting ridiculous, Amy thought…pretty soon Swinson Memorial will begin charging me rent…

  She waited impatiently, just as Peters had for her, before Sophia came out of the examination room in a wheelchair pushed by a nurse. Amy was shocked to her core.

  “Sophia? What is all this?”

  “Three cracked ribs and a couple tears in a few of the intercostal muscles near the breaks. They say I need complete bed rest to heal properly.”

  Amy felt all the blood fall from her face as her friend relayed the bad news. It was, other than being a fatal injury, about the worst possible news that could have been relayed. The show was coming up, and that meant Sophia’s role in the performance was shot.

  “Oh my God, Sophia! The show! What can I do?”

  Sophia looked up at Amy from her wheelchair with a look of pure anger and hate, grimacing against the pain of her wrapped ribcage.

  “Do? Haven’t you done enough?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh come on, Amy! We both know how much you wanted to be in this show!”

  “Hold on. Are you actually suggesting I had something to do with you getting hurt?”

  “All I know is you were the last one in the truck. I went in, and the crates were off-balance and fell on me and voila…”

  “Sophia…you are way off base here. I am really sorry you got hurt, and I feel terrible that you will not be able to continue on with the show, but to suggest I had a hand in this is absurd!”

  “Really? Just couldn’t stand it that me being uneducated and untrained in the field whipped your ass in the audition, huh? All those private schools and study and training and a young kid with zilch comes along and crushes you. I knew you were competitive and ambitious, Amy, but I never thought that you would actually stoop to something as underhanded as this…”

  “Sophia…you are…never mind. You’ve made up your mind on this and nothing I can say right now is going to change that. I have no idea why you think I would be capable of such a thing, but I hope one day after you recover, you see just how ridiculous this imaginary plot of yours is.”

  “Whatever, Amy. Don’t call me, and don’t come to see me. We are done.”

  With that Sophia had the nurse wheel her out of the hospital to where her parents were waiting, and Amy watched in stunned silence as the car sped away leaving her in its wake.

  Amy Roberts Version 2.0

  Swinson, UK

  November 2017

  Amy went back to The Review to find the truck gone and all the boxes and crates stacked neatly where she and Sophia had been putting everything. She sat heavily on the lone crate that was on the stage floor completely distraught over what had happened. She really had thought she and Sophia had developed what was beginning to be a closer friendship, but after what had just transpired at the hospital, Amy thought that maybe in addition to her failed theatre career, she was also a really lousy judge of human character. But the more she mulled it all over, the more those feelings just blew away. Sure she had wanted that part, but would she really have stooped to such a thing? Just for a role? The old Amy would have immediately denied such an accusation, but the new Amy? Somewhere deep inside she began to wonder. She had not consciously set the crates off center—right?—but now that all the dust had settled, the new Amy smiled slightly knowing it had to be a given that they would come to her to replace Sophia.

  Sure, she was not the naturally gifted singer that Sophia was, but she had really nailed all the other aspects that were required of the part. She rubbed her face vigorously as she stood only to find Melanie Greene, the personal assistant to the director for the performance standing in her wake.

  “You got a minute, Amy?” she asked.

  “I guess…what’s up?”

  “Mr. Florentine would like to see you.”

  The director. It was not hard to figure out what this was about. She assumed that even with her limited singing talent, Florentine was up against the wall with the first live performance in Swinton just around the corner. I guess, Amy said to herself, a mediocre singer who can act and dance is better than cancelling the show…

  “Tell him I am on my way…”

  Sure enough, Amy’s prediction was spot on. They could not afford to cancel the curren
t schedule, and he was as diplomatic about the situation as he could be, making sure Amy’s feelings were not stamped on in the process. He wanted to do an emergency run-through tomorrow and then prepare everyone for the real thing on the weekend. Amy was simultaneously thrilled and nervous. She hated to have gotten her chance this way, but all the same, she intended to make the most of the opportunity.

  Amy arrived with the rest of the cast on stage the next afternoon as Florentine explained what had happened to Sophia and how Amy had agreed to step in and save them. There were looks among the other cast members as well as a few of the stagehands as they all recalled why Sophia had been selected over Amy in the first place. But Amy ignored them.

  “Alright people…” Florentine announced, “we’ve got a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it in. Everyone get in place and let’s take it from the very beginning…”

  Bodies scattered and feet clattered as they all took their places, not knowing how long or how painful this new version of the show might be.

  “And everyone…” Florentine continued bringing all movement to a halt, “not one word of this production being jinxed. We just have to adapt to a couple of snags, that’s all. Let’s go!”

  Florentine joined his producer in the front row of the theatre and waited as the cast launched their first attempt at the show with Amy now on board. For the initial few scenes, all was going flawlessly, as Amy seemed to fill in seamlessly to the role vacated first by the troupe actress and then by Sophia. But Florentine felt his muscles tighten and his nerves become taught as they approached the first of what were to be several key vocal appearances by Amy. He closed his eyes as the music came up and Amy stepped to the center of the stage under a hazy and subdued blue spotlight.

  Amy began the song, and both Florentine and his producer bolted upright in their seats. As well, the cast members and lingering stagehands fell still, and silent as Amy filled the auditorium with the most mellifluous and beautiful sounds they had ever heard. Both Sophia and his regular actress had been wonderful, but what Amy was offering now left him speechless and nearly breathless. This was not how she had sounded in her initial audition. Her voice was similar, but it was now much more resonant, powerful, and confident. In a rare break of the run through Florentine had anticipated, he stood and joined in with his cast as they stood and applauded Amy, bringing tears to her eyes.

  “Everyone…take five…” Florentine shouted. “Amy? Can I have a word?”

  She walked to the edge of the stage to meet Florentine.

  “Yes, sir? Something wrong?”

  “Hardly, my dear. Have you been working on your voice?”

  “No, sir. Just doing my ushering duties and cleaning up after shows like usual.”

  “Well…I do not know what to say, Amy. What you are doing now is nothing like what we heard in your audition.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Sylvia Young and LAMDA, right?”

  “Yes, sir. And then a few years trying to make it in London.”

  “Well, Amy, I have no idea what happened back then to have those idiots not see what you can really do, but my guess is if you go back, lay it on them like you just did for us today? You’ll never want to work on the stage again.”

  “Very kind, Mr. Florentine.”

  “OK, everyone! Break’s over! Let’s finish it up…”

  The cast flew back into their places, each one smiling broadly at the blushing Amy as congratulations and accolades were sent her way from them all. The rest of the rehearsal went off without a hitch, and the cast and crew said good night as Amy saw them all off before locking up the theatre and heading home herself. As she walked home, Amy was feeling like she were intoxicated. Her dream was beginning to come to fruition. There was just one catch, though. While she was thrilled to be in this position, at last, she knew from the moment she had uttered the first note of the first song that night, that it had not been her singing.

  Even when she had been at her absolute peak in her own vocal renditions, the timbre and range and power of her voice had never even remotely approached what had come out of her mouth this night. Somehow, someway she knew it in her heart, but from all the scattered recordings that were still around, the ones that her grandparents used to play from the days of the old Regent, she knew this new voice…it was Rosalva!

  ……….

  Amy and the cast did a few more bits of polishing under the close eye of Florentine, just to satisfy the director’s need for perfection and make sure all was still as it had been with Amy’s singing. Nothing had changed, and Florentine was almost bouncing off the walls in anticipation of the live show. As Amy toweled down and made her way up through the left aisle of the theatre, she spotted a familiar face near the back. It was Malcolm Peters standing against the rear wall, his arms crossed over his bony chest, his Ichabod Crane-like Adam’s apple bobbing in the way it did when he was nervous.

  “Malcolm!” Amy exclaimed as she rushed to embrace him. “What an unexpected surprise!”

  Peters remained silent, trying to smile, but unable to force even a slight version.

  “So, you’re the new star, I take it?”

  “So, it would seem…did you see any of the bits we were working on?”

  “Some…”

  “But that’s not why you’re here as I can now see…”

  “Not really, no…”

  “You’ve got something on your mind, Malcolm…let’s grab a coffee and talk…”

  She motioned for him to follow her and they walked back to one of the dressing rooms where Amy brewed some coffee and handed Malcolm mug before joining him at the small table in the cramped room.

  “How are you doing these days, Amy…you know, since your accident?”

  “Great! Couldn’t be better. Healthy…star of a new show…what’s not to like?”

  Malcolm sipped at his coffee and peered over at her through the rising steam from his mug.

  “Not exactly what I was getting at, Amy.”

  “Maybe you had better fill me in, then, Malcolm…”

  “Do you remember right after your accident…you mentioned you felt different? You could not describe it exactly?”

  “Yeah…so?”

  Malcolm took a deep breath and told her of the theory he had been working on and his fear that part of his show and her accident had converged that night.

  “And you think maybe I got…what? Possessed?”

  Malcolm said nothing and neither did Amy as she suddenly remembered the night and how she was now singing like Rosalva.

  “With my background and experience, Amy, I think it is a definite possibility.”

  Amy went silent for a few more beats. It had been so thrilling to finally be successful and desirable on stage, that she had been pushing down the ugly and vengeful feelings that came to her from time to time since that night. While she had not purposefully arranged Sophia’s accident, she had as of late, more often than not, been glad of what had happened and more than willing to be opportunistic at her expense. If she focused on this, it made her feel bad, but in the last few days, since Florentine had come to her, she had just ignored those feelings. And now that Malcolm had confronted her on the issue, Amy was wondering if the success and fame and fortune that was likely to come her way was worth losing who Amy Roberts was at her core?

  “I guess you noticed my singing voice is a bit different also?”

  “I did. Before the haunted evening event, I did quite a bit of research on the old Regent and their star, Rosalva. It’s definitely her voice coming out of you now when you sing. My guess is this touring company has no clue as to what Rosalva ever sounded like, or if they even know of the dark backstory of The Regent.”

  “So what are you suggesting?”

  “I guess that depends on you, Amy. If all you care about is making in the theatre, then I guess do nothing, and I will take my leave. But I will warn you that in my experience, an untouched possession can have dire consequences i
n the long run. If Rosalva has made the leap from the spirit world to your body as a new vessel, and you do nothing, I can almost predict for sure that this will not end well. For you and anyone close to you.”

  Amy did not know what to say.

  “If you take this spirit on, Amy…you will also take on all of Rosalva’s personality. That in and of itself is not horrible, as from all indications she was a lovely woman. Bit of an egocentric diva, but I guess with her talent that comes with the package. The danger is what may have happened to her since her mortal demise.”

  “Happened?”

  Malcolm nodded and looked at her hard.

  “Amy…when people die, and their spirits get attached to a house or other physical thing in our world, unable to move on due to a bad or violent passing, the spirit I am afraid degrades psychically. It’s a very dangerous thing.”

  “I see. Well…perhaps after hearing all of this from you it is worth at least having you take a look and see if this is in fact what had happened.”

  “Good. We need some space for me to set up the ritual.”

  “How about the stage? It’s the last place Rosalva was before she died.”

  ‘Perfect. Let me get my things from the car, and I will meet you back there.”

  Amy Roberts And Rosalva

  Swinson, UK