What a Ghoul Wants

by Victoria Laurie

  “It took him a whole day to conduct the ritual on this side of the castle,” Arthur explained. “He planned to finish exorcising the south wing the next day, but the following morning he was found dead. . . floating in the moat.”

  Gilley made a squeaking sound and moved over next to Michel, who also looked quite frightened, but seemed to be handling this better than Gil. “What do we do now?” Michel asked when the rest of us fell silent.

  I stared down at the floor. After that encounter, I knew I couldn’t leave Gopher and the girls to face the Widow alone. God only knew what’d happened to them, as no one had heard a peep (or cascade of screams) since they’d left on their hunt. “Let me see the footage,” I said to Gil, motioning to his computer.

  Gil paled. “Why?”

  “I only saw her for a second through the viewfinder. I want to see how close she came before I got out of there.”

  “I repeat, why?”

  “To see if this sweatshirt had any effect at all,” I told him with a weary sigh. Why was everything an argument with him these days?

  Gil bit his lip but sat down and picked up his computer. “Okay, but I’m not going to look at it again.” As he lifted the lid, his computer dinged with an incoming e-mail. For a brief second, Gil’s attention was diverted. “It’s from Chris Weller. He wants to know if we’ve got any footage for him.”

  I made a face. Chris Weller was the last person on earth I wanted to distract me. “You know what? Send him the footage we just took and tell him to stuff it!” I was sooooo over the network brass and their constant harassment.

  Gil began typing and belatedly I realized he’d taken me seriously. I almost told him to stop, but then thought, what the hell? Let Chris be scared out of his boxers. After Gil sent off the clip, he turned the computer around so I could see, and I squinted at the green and black image showing the door being pulled open and that incredibly frightful face bursting out of utter blackness to hiss into my camera. What I hadn’t realized was that I seemed to have hesitated before turning on my heel and running away. For a second the camera had continued to film the Grim Widow as she came at me, but then she actually recoiled, her hands coming away as if she’d just touched something very hot.

  “So the sweatshirt does work,” I said. And I couldn’t be sure if I was relieved or even more scared by the revelation.

  “M. J., she came right at you!” John protested.

  I shook my head and rewound the clip a few frames. “She backs off the moment she’s about to grab me. See?”

  John peered squeamishly at the screen. “She still comes way too close to you for comfort,” he said.

  I sighed. “Agreed. But I’ve still gotta get into that wing and try to find Gopher, Kim, and Meg.”

  “There is another entrance,” Arthur said. “It’s on this level through the kitchen. It’s a very small and narrow entrance that the servants used to push Lady Jane’s meals through.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us that before?” John asked.

  “Years ago we pushed a heavy set of shelves in front of it,” he explained. “I know that it likely wouldn’t stop a ghost, but putting up the barricade helped ease the fears of those of us who are frightened by openings leading to the south wing.”

  “Can a person fit through this opening?” I asked.

  “Someone of your size should have no trouble, Miss Holliday.”

  “Will we be able to push the shelves aside and get through?” I asked next.

  “Yes, I should think so,” Arthur said.

  I motioned to him with my hand. “Lead the way, Mr. Crunn.”

  Arthur walked with all of us close on his heels. Gilley stuck to me like white on rice, his arms and pockets literally brimming with magnets and spikes.

  We followed Arthur through the hall leading to the dining room, across that large space, and into the kitchen, where Arthur flipped the light switch and the castle’s kitchen was illuminated.

  I was surprised by how modern it was but didn’t linger on it, as we had work to do. Arthur then pointed to a large wooden set of shelves backed up against a wall. The shelving was at least six feet high and loaded with pantry items, but it seemed movable given the several hands we had available for the task.

  After unloading the shelves of most of the breakable objects, Michel and John pushed against one side and got the unit far enough away from the wall to reveal the small door, which wasn’t much bigger than three feet by two. I stepped into the angled space and pulled up on the levered handle to test the door. It gave a little pop and I knew it would open easily, but I’d have to crawl through on hands and knees.

  “Okay,” I said to the men, hovering around me, “I’m going through. You four should go back to the main hall and wait for me.”

  Gilley took off out of the kitchen in a manner that suggested I didn’t have to tell him twice. Michel gave me a two-finger salute and wished me luck before leaving, and Arthur laid a hand on my shoulder and said, “You’re an incredibly brave woman, Miss Holliday. Please, do take care, all right?”

  “I’ll do my best,” I assured him, already feeling a little shaky with fear.

  John was the last to go, and he tapped his headset and said, “I don’t care what you think. If you get in trouble, you call me. I’ll come running with every spike we’ve got.”

  “Thanks, buddy.” I motioned for him to go and he left me alone to face my destiny.

  Chapter 6

  Turning back to the door, I squared my shoulders, lifted the camera, and pulled up on the handle very slowly. “Okay, M. J., we’re all back in the main hall,” I heard John whisper into my ear.

  I didn’t answer him, as I was convinced the Widow had detected my argument with Gilley and had come running to meet me at the entrance upstairs. Instead I got down on all fours, opened the door very carefully, and pointed the camera to the interior of the hall beyond the door.

  It was a short corridor, and apparently unoccupied. With great care I crept forward a few feet, until only my torso was through the opening. I lifted the camera again and pointed it all around. I was trembling with fear, probably still rattled from the shock of the Widow’s attack upstairs. I listened for any sound that might alert me to her presence, but nothing moved on the viewfinder and no disturbing sound came to my ears. Finally, after assessing the hallway for more than a minute, I spoke to the boys. “It looks clear.”

  “Tell her to be careful!” I overheard Gilley say to John. “And tell her if she gets into trouble to get her ass back through that door!” Most of the irritation I’d had earlier with him melted away. He genuinely cared about me and that mattered.

  “Gilley says—”

  “I heard him, John. Tell him I will, on both counts.” I waited another thirty seconds or so before I felt brave enough to move forward all the way through the doorway. I wished for all the world that Heath was with me. It took every ounce of courage I had to creep forward far enough so that I could stand up again. Looking behind me at the small opening, I had even greater reservations. Getting through it quickly would be a challenge. What if the Widow managed to close it on me before I had a chance to escape?

  “You okay?” John asked me, and I realized I hadn’t moved or spoken in several moments.

  “Yeah,” I whispered, making an effort to steel my nerves. I’d learned a few things on these types of busts during the last few years, and one of the most valuable was that fear can act as a beacon to the spirit world—especially the more nefarious spooks. I had to admit to myself that as much as the Widow may have been alerted to my argument with Gilley, she may have also been summoned by my own fear. With effort I inhaled several calming breaths. You’re okay, I said to myself.

  Be careful, Mary Jane, another voice inside my head warned.

  Sam?<
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  I’m here, he assured me, and his presence did more to reassure me than I can even say. Sam Whitefeather is my spirit guide. In life, he was also Heath’s beloved grandfather.

  Do you see her? I asked him.

  She’s up, he said, and I knew he meant she was on the second story. Her energy is the most evil human spirit I’ve ever seen. As long as you’re here, you’re in very grave danger, my spirit daughter.

  I have to find Gopher, Kim, and Meg, I told him. Do you see them?

  Sam didn’t speak for a moment and I wondered if he’d gone away. But then he said, I cannot sense them, but that may be because these walls have absorbed the evil of the woman who haunts it and it radiates so loudly that I’m unable to detect much else.

  I knew what he meant. It’s hard to describe what was bouncing off the walls of that hallway, but the best I can do is to say that they were practically pulsing with malice. How should I proceed? I asked him next. I still hadn’t moved from that initial few feet I’d taken to get inside the door.

  Very carefully, Sam said, and I knew he wasn’t kidding around. I’ll warn you if I think she’s headed your way.

  Sam’s offer to play lookout did a lot to bolster my courage. Still, moving down that hallway was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I crept along as quietly as I could, all my senses on high alert, and every few feet I checked in with Sam to make sure I hadn’t lost him.

  It took me a while to make it down that hallway, and thankfully, John kept his trap shut and didn’t push me to hurry. I knew he was anxious about Kim, and I was worried about her, Meg, Gopher, and that model too, but I had to go slow and careful with a dangerous ghost like the Grim Widow around.

  At last I made it to the end of the hallway and there were two choices in front of me—left or right. Belatedly I wished that I’d had the sense to ask Arthur to draw me a map of the south wing, and for a brief second I considered going back, but we’d already lost too much time, so I quickly discarded that option. Instead, I relied on Sam and my own intuition. I took the right corridor and worked to tamp down the mounting fear that kept bubbling higher the farther away from the exit I got.

  John had given me two stakes and I held one of them in my left hand while I navigated the dark interior with the viewfinder on the night-vision camera. I will admit that being smothered by darkness except for the green glow given off by the viewfinder left me feeling somewhat claustrophobic on top of also being scared out of my socks.

  Still, I managed to make it step by step through the hallway, my ears pricked for even the smallest sounds. As I came to a door on my right or my left, I would tuck the spike into my holster and try the knob. Most of the doors were locked, but a few opened up to reveal empty rooms filled with cobwebs and dust.

  Each time I found a room empty, I had dueling emotions—both the relief of not having something jump out and attack me and the frustration of not finding my friends.

  Eventually I figured out the layout of the first floor. It housed many large and stately rooms along with several much smaller ones. I could only guess at their purpose from five hundred years ago, but now they were nothing but empty, cold, cobweb-infested shells.

  After about an hour of searching I knew that I’d covered the entire first floor. The battery on the camera indicated that I had only about an hour or less left, and if I encountered the Widow and she sucked out the rest of the juice in the battery, I’d be up spook creek without a paddle.

  With great trepidation I approached the central south-wing staircase. It was off a hall that mirrored the great hall at the front of the castle, but smaller. I stared up the stairs nervously. I’ve got to go up there, don’t I? I asked Sam.

  Afraid so, he said. I’ll keep an eye on the Widow. You focus on finding your friends.

  “Be careful, M. J.,” John whispered in my ear.

  I gathered a little more courage and was about to take the first step when a loud bang caused me to jump and nearly lose hold of the camera and my spike. Whirling around, I found the source quickly. A door had banged shut. Sam? I asked.

  I’m not sensing a spirit did that, he said.

  I approached the door cautiously and put my hand up to it. A cold draft whistled through the crack between the door and the frame. Taking a deep breath, I pulled on the door and saw that it opened to the outdoors, but there was no landing, just a drop of about ten feet to the rocky terrain below.

  If there had been a landing or a series of stairs here, they’d long since rotted away or been removed. Still, it was good to know that I had another possible escape route should the Widow find me skulking about.

  I studied the ground below, and figured I could simply ease myself over the edge, hang by my hands from the opening, and drop the few extra feet to the ground without causing myself injury. Squinting a little more at the surrounding terrain directly below, I could see that a sort of skirt of land surrounded this section of the castle. I grabbed on to the doorframe and hung out of the opening to get an even better look, and saw that there was a pretty rickety-looking bridge to my left, which extended from the skirt across the moat to the other side. No way would I be going across that puppy in the dark, but still, it was good to know that at least someone could get across the water from here.

  Leaving the door propped open by a loose board I found nearby, I moved back to the staircase and took the first step up. I’d be more vulnerable on the steps. Many malevolent ghosts had pushed or shoved their living victims down the stairs. It was a favorite trick of their ilk.

  I hugged the railing on the right side as I went up, and with each step I could feel the malicious presence of the Widow grow stronger. My breathing started to pick up again and Sam reminded me to remain as calm as possible. You’re okay, he said in my mind. She hasn’t sensed your presence yet.

  It was the “yet” that bothered me.

  At the top of the stairs I hesitated, listening and turning the viewfinder all around, looking for any sign of the Widow. Nothing moved. I took a step and the floorboards creaked. My heartbeat quickened. Stay calm, M. J., Sam warned.

  That was easier said than done. I took another step and the floorboards creaked again. To my ears the noise was so loud I couldn’t fathom it not calling attention to me, and I hesitated again, thinking Sam was going to tell me to run for it, but he kept quiet and I knew I needed to go on.

  There was only one hallway off the stairs and I followed it cautiously to the first intersection. Right or left? I asked Sam, but before he could answer, I heard a sound from outside. It was coming from a window right in front of me whose pane had been broken.

  I peeked through the pane and saw a man rowing a small boat in the water. I held the viewfinder up and tapped the zoom button, and just as the man was coming into focus, he and the boat completely disappeared.

  I sucked in a breath, pulled back, and flattened myself against the wall. I wasn’t scared so much as shocked by the sudden revelation that there was another ghost haunting the moat.

  “Who was that and where the hell did he go?” John whispered.

  I didn’t answer him. Instead, I stood there motionless for several seconds while I worked to steady my nerves. Finally I pushed away from the wall again and had the urge to take another look out of the window. Raising the viewfinder, I looked first below, then across the moat to the other side, and that’s when I saw the figure of someone walking along the moors. He or she appeared quite comfortable with the terrain, and looked to be steadily wending down to the water’s edge. The way the body moved, I had the feeling it was male, but I couldn’t be sure from that distance. I thought about calling out to the figure, but just as I was considering that, it too disappeared. “Whoa!” I heard both John and Gilley exclaim. They were obviously watching the footage through the camera feed. “Another ghost?” John asked me.

 
“Maybe,” I whispered, staring down at the moors and trying to catch another glimpse of the figure. “Or the same one going through a series of sequences.” Sometimes a spook will randomly choose to go through several sequences of the final moments of his life, and often these may appear out of order—almost like watching small sections of a movie that’s slightly out of sync.

  “I wonder if the spooks outside are any nicer than the ones inside,” John said.

  “Nothing could be worse than what’s in here,” I said softly, finally turning away from the window and heading to the intersection of the hallways again.

  Right or left, Sam? I asked.

  I’d go right.

  I began to turn in that direction when another sound came to my ears. This one was utterly unexpected, if not unfamiliar. Immediately I turned away from the right-hand corridor and veered left, walking with purpose to the third door on the right. The sound of guitar strums echoed through the wood from inside. Quickly, I fumbled through the pocket of my jeans, at last coming up with my old room key, and managed to turn the lock just as the guitar strums stopped.

  Closing the door quietly, I hurried to the bedside table and picked up my phone. The screen said that I’d missed seven new calls and I had as many voice mails.

  I swiped my finger across the screen to unlock it, and the first thing I saw was that I’d just missed a call from Gopher. “No way. . . ,” I whispered.

  “What?” John said immediately. “Are you in trouble, M. J.? Do you need help?”

  “What’s happening?” I heard Gilley’s panicked voice ask in the background. “Is it the Widow?! Does she have M. J.?! Is she coming for me?! I’m too young to die!”

  Instead of answering, I held up the display of the phone to the camera so that everybody could see. “Gopher called?” John said, and I could imagine him pointing to the computer screen so that Gil wouldn’t have a full-scale meltdown.

  “I thought she didn’t have her phone?” Gil said much more calmly. “Ask her where she got the phone!”