by Carrie King
I don't want to be here anymore.
The voice came out of nowhere, from inside her head and all around at the same time. She looked up but saw nothing.
"Beatrice?"
I don't want to be here anymore. My fault … my fault … deserve my punishment …
The voice was cutting in and out. Though she knew that she had to get up and look for Marcus, she also needed to communicate with any spirit who asked for help. Was it a trick? Was Beatrice just saying that to fool her? To put her off guard?
Angus had told her that Beatrice had not made a deal with the Soul Taker, that gave her hope, but if she didn’t want to leave... Angie was more than aware that it was difficult to banish a spirit that wanted to linger.
When spirits felt trapped but they wouldn't cross over— for any reason—it took some doing. Most of the time, she could guide them across and into the light. But some were torn, not believing that they deserved release from their torment. Others, like Angus, had literally made a pact with the devil.
Most people believed that doing so was nonsense, and that there was no such thing as true evil, at least in regard to demons and devils in the world, but there was. Angie had seen and felt it time and again. The universe was balanced. Good and evil. Light and darkness. Earth and water. It was all interconnected and intertwined, a type of yin and yang; all of it finely aligned.
"You're not trapped here, Beatrice. You can leave anytime you wish."
Trapped … my own guilt …
"Beatrice, did you hurt Marcus?"
Nothing.
With a sigh, Angie rose on trembling limbs, still clutching the flashlight, knowing–and dreading— that she had to go back down into the tunnel. She had to make sure that Marcus wasn't down there.
Her heart thudding dully in her chest, Angie left the sitting room, praying for God to protect her, to banish evil from her presence, to guide her toward Marcus. She prayed for his safety and hers. Beatrice might be tricking her, but what if she wasn't? Did she truly want to be released from this realm? And what of Angus?
The house remained silent, the only sounds were those made by Angie's footsteps down the hallway. Bit by bit she worked up the courage to open that hidden doorway once more.
Just do it.
Go down and check, then come right back up. She could be back in less than five minutes, she was sure of it. She had to do it. For Marcus. He would do it for her.
Taking a deep breath, she turned on the flashlight, swept it down the steps once more, and crossed the threshold.
Chapter 71
She immediately felt the heavier pressure in the air. Her heart began to pound and her head ached. It was not as bad as before, but it ached. Quickly she fought back the feelings and closed her mind, focusing on nothing but finding Marcus.
The flashlight disappeared into the darkness and the stairs seemed to go down forever. With dread pressing down on her shoulders she walked down each one. Time dragged and her legs ached but she only counted twenty steps before she reached the bottom.
Ignoring the urge to run she shone the flashlight around, above, and along the length of the tunnel. It lit up earthen walls, with roots protruding through portions of the ceiling and the hard-packed dirt sides. The length of the tunnel was occasionally broken by a support beam. She shone the flashlight along the tunnel floor and saw the remnants of what could be footprints, but she couldn't be sure how fresh they were.
She knew that the investigators had been down here. Would their footprints still be visible? She did feel a slight draft, but where it came from she didn't know, nor at the moment care. She resisted the urge to dwell on that question.
"Marcus?" Her voice was soft and tentative at first, and she tried again. "Marcus! Are you down here?"
A low, barely audible growl reverberated through the tunnel. Freezing, eyes wide, she peered into the darkness beyond the beam of her flashlight. The tunnel seemed to go on forever, but like the stairs, she knew that it wouldn't. Avoiding dangling cobwebs as much she could, she proceeded forward, choking back the fear that bubbled inside her.
Focus on Marcus. Focus on Marcus.
To her left, she saw an indentation in the wall, a shadow deeper than the other parts of the tunnel. As she stepped across from it, she shone the flashlight toward it. Another tunnel, but very short, less than ten meters deep, led to a doorway; a heavy wooden door with a brass iron ring stood half open. She swallowed and aimed the flashlight behind her and then toward the opposite end. There, off in the distance, she thought she saw another door. Wood.
Another growling sound. Could she be near the base of the cliff? Was that the sound of the sea crashing onto the rocks at its base? Or was it something else? Muttering the Lord's Prayer, gathering her courage, she stepped toward the half-open door, paused beside it, and shone her flashlight into the room. Empty.
Where is Marcus?
She felt a flash of ice-hot pain sear along her left forearm. Jerking, she shone the flashlight beam on her skin. Three long red scratches appeared on its surface. Crap. Every bit of her experience told her to run but she couldn’t.
The growling sound grew louder, seeming to come from directly behind her. Spinning around, her head felt like it was being tightened in a vise. Her heartbeat accelerated and she couldn't take a deep breath.
There was nothing there, and yet the torch beam bounced back at her. Something was reflecting that light, something dark.
The Soul Taker!
"Who are you?" she demanded, fighting her fear with defiance.
You can't have them. They’re mine …
"No, they're not, unless they wish it to be so," she replied, quickly stepping back into the main part of the tunnel, her back to the wall. She heard the sound of a woman weeping. The noise came from the distant end of the tunnel, toward the cliffside.
"Beatrice, you can go!" she shouted in her direction.
No, she can't!
"You can go, Beatrice. If you see a light step into it," Angie said, and though she spoke loudly and with confidence, her voice still trembled with fear. Of course, she was afraid. Only a fool wouldn't be.
I can't!
"You can!"
Angie swung her flashlight back and forth. Then, out of nothing, a black, heavy mass began to form in front of the door to that empty chamber. It oozed with malevolence; with a power it had accumulated, possibly over centuries. She knew the only way to resist it was to rely on her faith, her experience, and her determination.
"Fight it, Beatrice! You too, Angus! Join forces against it!"
She stared at the black, undulating mass that seemed to grow in size and took on an almost solid form, as tall as a human but still devoid of human shape.
"You don't belong here! You're no longer welcome here!"
It laughed.
"In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, amen," she began, speaking forcefully. "Let God arise and let his enemies be scattered…"
Low laughter reverberated through the tunnel. She turned toward the far end of the tunnel, where the woman’s voice had come from. "Beatrice! Think of the happier times … think of your loved ones! They'll be waiting for you on the other side."
There is no other side.
She turned again to the dark mass. "As smoke vanisheth, so let them vanish away: as wax melteth before the fire, so let the wicked perish in the presence of God."
The growling grew louder. The pressure in her chest increased. She heard another voice, murmuring encouragement. Angus!
Beatrice was weeping. The evil entity, chuckling. Angus was trying to help her, to encourage her.
The black mass was now undulating into different shapes, some thick and solid, some vague and transparent. It grew increasingly difficult to maintain her focus. Her voice was growing weak, her thoughts disjointed, she nevertheless continued in her attempt to banish the evil entity.
"Oh God and Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ, we invoke Thy Holy Name, and we humbly imp
lore Thy mercy…"
A sharp, powerful pain stabbed at her chest, as if she were truly being stabbed. The agony took her breath away. Her ears rang and her thoughts grew fuzzy, clouded with memories of all the evil things she had seen in her life. The tortured, the misunderstood, the anger and resentment. No! She had to fight this!
"Beatrice, Angus… please… help me!" she gasped. "You must fight it with me!"
The mass rushed toward her and blackness enveloped her, dragging her down into oblivion.
Chapter 72
She woke up on the hard, wood plank floor of the hallway. Opening her eyes and with blurry vision she could make out a shadow hovering over her. Gasping, she tried to scramble backward, her heart pounding with renewed fear. How had she gotten up here? How had she gotten out of that tunnel?
"Angus?"
"Angie … Angie, it's me, Marcus. You're all right. Breathe."
Angie stilled, staring upward with wonder. Marcus? She blinked. Slowly, her vision cleared. The pain was gone. She was left with an overwhelming sense of weariness, but she didn't feel that oppressive pain in her chest or her head any longer. She frowned.
"Marcus?" She tried to sit up. He helped her, leaning her back against the wall, her legs stretched out in front of her. She stared at him, her relief overwhelming. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Where were you?"
He didn't answer. She noticed the dark circles under his eyes, his pupils dilated, his skin so pale. Her heart sank. Something was wrong. Something was … different. She had seen him go days without much sleep. He'd never looked like that.
"Marcus, what's the matter?" She straightened, forgetting her own pains. "Are you all right? What's happening?"
He opened his mouth, then closed it. She knew something had happened, but he was obviously reluctant to say what.
"Were you down there, in the tunnel?" He nodded and she frowned. "Didn't you hear me calling for you?"
He couldn't answer.
She looked down the hallway but saw no one. “Angus.”
He made a deal with the Soul Taker. It was Angus, as clear as day inside her head. Him in exchange for you. He was to be the last soul.
She stared wide-eyed at Marcus, shaking her head as a cold chill swept through her. "No! No, you can't do it, Marcus. You can't!"
He didn't have much of a choice. That was from Beatrice.
They were both here. She could feel them.
"There's always a choice, Beatrice! You and Angus, you don't have to stay here!"
But we do!
"No, Beatrice, you don't," she said. She looked at Marcus, staring back at her, looking so sad and forlorn. "All of us have a choice. You, me, and Marcus. We have a choice to choose goodness over evil!
My sins …
"Beatrice, we all have sins. Angus, you both have to believe me!"
He was promised one more soul.
Marcus was to have been the last soul, the last one promised to the Soul Taker. The completion of the contract Angus had made with the evil entity so many centuries ago.
"No!"
He agreed. He sacrificed himself for you.
"No!" She turned to Marcus, grabbing his arms with her hands and squeezing, holding on tight, as if she could.
"Marcus, you cannot, you will not do this!"
She saw the confusion in Marcus' eyes and knew that he was not in control of his own thoughts, not really.
"Marcus, fight! We must all fight together!"
Everything seemed to happen all at once. The pressure returned to her chest, as if something was trying to squeeze her heart. She cried out in pain but knew that they had to join forces to fight against the entity as one. She fought past the pain.
"Beatrice! Angus! You have to help! We must all join our energy to fight the evil"
I can't!
"You can, Beatrice!" she insisted. "Angus, help her. Please! He can't take Marcus!"
She sensed resistance from Angus. "Forgive, Angus," she implored. "You've been trapped here because of your unwillingness to forgive!" Her head felt like it was going to explode. She focused on communicating with the spirits. "Beatrice, forgive yourself! You've tormented Angus long enough!"
Too much … too much …
Angie knew that Marcus' only hope, her only hope to survive, was to encourage Beatrice and Angus to put aside their hatred of one another and turn that anger, that bitterness, and their sense of betrayal at one another, onto the Soul Taker.
She also knew that Marcus had to fight. She glared at him. "I don't care what you promised that bastard, Marcus, but you're not going anywhere! Do you hear me? You're not going anywhere!"
The black mass appeared in front of the hidden doorway to the tunnel, trying to take on a form.
"Don't let it form!" she cried out to all of them, fighting past the pain and the overwhelming rush of emotions; not only her own fear, but their anguish and pain. She had never experienced anything like this. She refused to relinquish her grip on Marcus, who stared at her, eyes wide, mouth open as if shouting a silent plea.
"Please, Beatrice, fight him!" she shouted. "Angus, fight him!"
She closed her eyes and began to recite the Lord's Prayer once more. A loud roar swept through the hallway. An electrical charge seemed to shoot from the top of her head down to the soles of her feet. It sounded like a thunderstorm raged outside.
"Forgive yourselves!" Angie cried, hoping that both Beatrice and Angus could do that. "Trust me! You have to trust me! You're not trapped here, not like you think you are! You can go! You can go!"
She turned to Marcus. "Marcus, listen to me!" The whirling of the wind grew louder, but she knew there was no wind, no storm. It was all in her head. A trick of the evil spirit to confuse and distract. "Marcus, look at me! Look into my eyes!"
She shook him, blinking back tears and her increasing panic. "Look at me!"
Finally, he did. His eyes locked on hers. She squeezed his arms so tightly that her fingers felt numb. "Fight him, Marcus! Fight him! We must all fight him together!"
Her voice rose and she was filled with a sense of purpose, of strength. She could feel them! They were all beside her now, Marcus in front of her, Beatrice on one side, Angus on the other. All of them focusing on banishing the Soul Taker, refusing him. It was strong, that spirit, but strength in unity also mattered.
"If you cross over, he'll be gone!" she told them. "He can't keep you here! You must believe that," she shouted, hoping that they would believe her, and that they would trust her.
"You can go!" she urged. "Look for the light! Feel the warmth! There's peace over there!"
I see it … I see the other side …
That was from Angus. Angie began to laugh and cry at the same time. "Go, Angus. You're not trapped here anymore. Forgive yourself... be free!"
Marcus reached for her hands, squeezing tightly.
"Hold on, Marcus! Hold on!"
She felt something move through her, enveloping her in the sensation of strength and determination. Angus. She smiled and felt him leave. A few seconds later, she felt Beatrice also leave. She began to laugh, overjoyed.
"Do you feel it, Marcus? Do you feel it?"
Marcus trembled, eyes wide, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. His pupils looked normal again.
"I've never felt … I've never felt anything like that," he exclaimed.
She nodded, then focused on the black mass undulating, but not quite as strongly, in front of the hidden doorway. "Go," she ordered. "Go back where you came from. There's nothing more here for you. You're not welcome here anymore!"
She closed her eyes, still hanging on tightly to Marcus, praying, her face lifted upward. Her heart pounding in lingering fear, but she believed in the goodness. In hope. Angus and Beatrice had crossed over.
"Noooo!" the evil entity growled not in her head this time. "You can't have them!"
"Neither can you!" she shouted back, opening her eyes. She and Marcus held onto each other, desperately, giving each o
ther strength. She felt compelled to smile at him. She believed that goodness and affection, love and loyalty always overcame evil, always overcame the darkness.
Gradually, the black mass ebbed. The roaring in her ears faded along with it. So too did the pressure in her head. The pain in her chest eased until, finally, all was calm again. She and Marcus sat in the middle of the hallway, still holding tight to one another.
They had overcome. Together. She allowed herself a relieved sigh. "We did it, Marcus. We did it. You did it."
He wrapped her in his embrace. She sagged into him, welcoming it. She'd never felt so exhausted, so spent, but Marcus was here, supporting her. This was one of the most difficult cases she had ever endured, but she had. They had. Marcus had nearly sacrificed himself for her sake. She wouldn't forget that. Not ever.
"I felt them leave," he said, his voice subdued with awe. "Is it always like that? That peaceful feeling?"
She smiled and nodded. "Yes, Marcus, it's always like that."
Epilogue
Angie and Marcus loaded their equipment into their vehicles, both of them looking forward to returning to the city. The house was quiet. It had a different feeling than it had when they arrived. Now it was light and airy. Peaceful. The spirits had crossed over and the evil entity had gone. Somewhere else. Always somewhere else. But no longer here.
After placing his overnight bag in his car, Marcus approached, draping an arm casually around her shoulder. He grinned down at her.
"We need to talk about this, you know."
She knew what he meant. This investigation had brought them closer than ever before. They had crossed an invisible boundary and there was no going back. She looked up at him and smiled, “yes, Marcus, we do. But not here."
She turned to look up at Greyfield Manor. It was over. Angus and Beatrice had learned how to forgive themselves and each other, and in doing so, they had set themselves free.
The Soul Taker? He might not be gone forever, but he wouldn't be coming back here. It was the thing about evil. It drifted in and out of people's lives seemingly at random, but there was always a reason. Always a goal.
