“She’s coming for us,” Laura murmured, her voice oddly calm now.
Andrew looked at her in the darkness. He couldn’t make out her expression and he was quite certain that he didn’t want to see the eerie calm that had, no doubt, settled onto her face.
“We belong to her now.” Laura glanced down the stairs where she knew that the creature, the woman, was waiting in the darkness, stalking them. She wouldn’t be quick with her vengeance. She would draw it out. She would make them suffer, just as she had suffered.
“Over my dead body,” Andrew threw his shoulder against the door. He held Laura tightly. He was not going to leave her behind despite the fact that she seemed unwilling to leave. It was almost as though she had accepted that they belonged to the house now, or whatever she believed lived in the shadows.
He threw his shoulder against the door again and again and again. He refused to be stuck in this basement. He refused to be stuck in this house. He refused to believe that things went bump in the night. He refused to believe that there wasn’t a logical explanation for what had just happened.
Laura held on tightly. She had no other choice. All the while she watched the darkness behind them. She could see the red eyes glowing there. She could see them floating at the base of the stairs, creeping closer.
She knew those eyes. The eyes that haunted her dreams. The eyes that had stared into hers as the owner’s hands had tried to choke the life out of her. She would recognize them anywhere; recognize the anger in them, the hate.
They crept closer, one step at a time. The creature, on all fours, climbing the stairs towards them, taking its time. Andrew fighting for their escape.
She didn’t know who was going to win. She didn’t know who she wanted to win.
She squeezed her eyes closed. Perhaps she was dreaming. Perhaps this had all been a dream and she would wake up in London in her own bed, and they will have never have been to Beverley. She knew that it was naïve, but in that moment it was a nice hope to hold onto. She had very little left to grasp at the moment.
The smell is what hit her first. That smell of decaying flesh and dirt. It was a smell that had not quite left her nostrils since the night before. It was a smell she wasn’t certain she would ever forget.
She closed her eyes tighter. She didn’t want to open them. She didn’t want to acknowledge what was in front of her. She didn’t want to realize what had finally caught up with them.
Her eyes opened without her consent. They met those familiar red orbs. They looked at her with a curious, assessing nature. The anger they had been filled with during the night seemed to be buried somewhere underneath the curiosity right now. The hatred seemed to be hidden somewhere deep. Laura knew it was still there, she could see the flames dancing, but it was waiting.
Its tongue flicked out, moistening dead lips. It seemed to be considering. What, Laura hadn’t the faintest idea. She could only hope that it was that it might let them go.
That tongue flicked out and ran across her cheek again.
Laura cringed and choked back a sob. The bile rose in her throat and she fought to swallow it back down.
Andrew turned at the sound of Laura’s choked sob. That was when he saw it. For the first time, he saw what Laura had seen. The creature, with its red eyes and grey, decaying skin. Its forked tongue flicked out as though it was actually scenting the air. It tilted its head, as though curious at the fact that he was looking at it, as though curious at the fact that he could see it.
He opened his mouth to say something. He wasn’t certain what, but he knew that words were supposed to come out. His voice caught in his throat as he stared into those red orbs and the fear overwhelmed him.
The red eyes narrowed as if considering, and then it shrieked. A horrid, high-pitched noise that caused their ears to ring. She shrieked and her hand snaked out to backhand Andrew across the face with such force that he slammed back against the door.
The door panel gave way beneath his weight, finally, and they crashed into the hall, into the light.
Andrew blinked against the pain of slamming into the ground, of being slapped across the face. In the shadows of the doorway the creature lingered, watching them. And then it was gone.
The sound of its laughter lingering behind it.
Laura coughed as the air flooded back into her lungs. The shock of hitting the ground had knocked the wind out of her. She clutched her chest and gasped for air. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the basement door. She simply locked eyes with Andrew and took solace in the fact that they had made it out.
She had been so stupid. Why had she wanted to go down there? Why hadn’t they just left?
She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. He had save them. She would forever believe that. She had given up and he had saved them.
The handprint had left a red mark on his cheek. It was an angry red mark that rivalled the ones that adorned her neck. They had both been marked by this adventure. They would both remember this for the rest of their lives, of that she was certain.
She crawled closer to him and pressed a soft kiss to his damaged cheek.
“Thank you,” she murmured against his skin.
He looked at her with a confused expression. He was getting good at those. “For what?”
“For getting us out of there.” She risked a glance at the doorway, but found it empty. It looked like any other entranceway now. It looked completely mundane and harmless. She knew that there was nothing harmless about that room. There was nothing harmless about the darkness.
“We’re not out yet.” Andrew struggled to his feet and extended a hand to her. “How about we actually get out of here now, darling?”
“You took the words right out of my mouth.”
She let him help her to her feet and then help her all the way out of the house. Neither of them looked back.
Epilogue
Chez Moi Cosmetics, London
* * *
It was good to be back in the city, good to be back at work. She’d had to wait another two months after they’d returned from Beverley before her employers would even consider letting her return, but they had caved eventually.
She still needed her crutches to walk around, but she could do short distances on her own now. She was exceptionally proud of that achievement. Andrew was proud of her too and extremely glad to be back to their normal life. They had needed some normalcy after what had happened.
She still had nightmares. No level of medication prescribed by Dr Sinclair would fix that, she was fairly certain. She knew that over time they would lessen. Maybe one day they would even go away. But she could do little about them right now other than curl up in Andrew’s waiting arms and ride out the terror that threatened to consume her.
During the day, she poured herself into her work. She was glad to have that as an outlet now. The two months with nothing to do but try to recover from her injury and from the experience at Beverley had been brutal. She had needed a distraction.
She’d been back at work for less than a week and she already felt more like herself. It felt good to be back to a routine. It felt good to be back around her co-workers. And it felt good to be doing something.
Andrew had gone back to work when they’d returned from Beverley, leaving her to her own devices. She’d been a little put off by it at first, but she had understood his need for occupation. And she’d filled her time with friends and family. And when she was left alone, she’d started to do her research.
The house in Beverley had left a bad taste in her mouth, to say the least. Even now she couldn’t quite put the pieces together. What had happened there didn’t make sense. The fact that they had made it out barely made sense. But she wasn’t able to leave it alone.
Laura sat at her desk at Chez Moi Cosmetics and reviewed marketing materials on autopilot. Her mind, like so many other days, was drifting back to that house. Drifting back to the basement and what had happened there.
She closed her eyes
against the images that were flooding her mind. She didn’t need to do this at work. She wouldn’t let herself go there.
She was halfway through the breathing exercises Dr Sinclair had given her to try, when her email notification sounded.
Laura opened it without thought. She answered hundreds of emails daily, but the subject line made her pause.
“Re: House Inquiry,” she read and hesitated before clicking on the email.
She’d sent out a few dozen emails to individuals in the area inquiring about the house they’d stayed at. This was the first respondent email from anyone and she wasn’t certain she wanted to know what it said.
She recognized the sender’s address. The local archivist and librarian hadn’t been the first person she’d contacted, but it had been rather difficult to locate his contact information. Once she’d found it, she’d sent an email out immediately.
She hovered her curser over the email for a moment, drew in a breath, and then clicked it open.
* * *
Dear Mrs. Knight,
* * *
My apologies for taking so long to reply to your inquiry, a great deal has happened since your visit to Beverley. After your stay at the house, another couple took up temporary residence. Unfortunately, the police found their bodies when called to the residence by an anonymous tip. The belief is that they committed suicide, poor souls.
The owners of the house have since chosen to have it torn down. It is a shame to see such a piece of history disappear, but I can understand their reasoning. I don’t think anyone would want to stay there after such an incident. Though some people like that sort of thing, staying in a haunted house. It could have become quite the tourist attraction.
As to your inquiry about the history of the house, that took a bit of digging. Originally it seems that the house belonged to the Blackmores, a rather prominent family in the area and rather well off for the time. Their daughter, Florence, was rumoured to be one of the prettiest girls in town. She was the pride of the family and set to marry well.
In 1780 quite a scandal came out about the family. There was both a lot and very little written about it, but I found some sources that have helped me piece together a bit of a narrative about what transpired. I will summarize it as best as I can in this correspondence.
Florence, despite being well off and set to marry, began dabbling in witchcraft, or so the rumour has it. This was unbeknownst to her family, of course. As was the relationship she was fostering with a local huntsman. No one managed to find him after all this was said and done, and it is the belief that she may have killed him as well, but I digress.
In 1780 every member of her family died, each of very different and most unexplainable causes. Her father drowned, her mother had a heart attack, her brother died in a hunting accident, and her little sister choked to death. This left Florence as the sole inheritor of the Blackmore home and fortune. Now that’s quite the position for a young, unmarried woman at the time. People were not impressed with it. They wanted the courts to hold the house in trust until she married, but she would have none of it.
Florence locked herself in the house for six months. She dismissed the servants. She closed the shutters. No one heard from her or saw her. It wasn’t until passers-by began to hear the cries of an infant, that neighbours came to call. Eventually the authorities were sent over. Everyone was quite worried about what might be going on behind those closed doors.
What they found when the police finally broke into the house, was shocking. I had to piece it together from multiple accounts. The house was in complete disarray, with blasphemous symbols carved into the floorboards. They found her in the living room, her infant child dead at her feet, and her body covered in its blood. She’d done strange things to herself. The witnesses were not specific, but I can only imagine.
When asked why she’d killed her child, she said because the Devil wanted him, just like the Devil had wanted her family.
Florence Blackmore was hung and then burned to death, as was the custom with witches. That was all the paper would say on the matter of her death. Although, before she died, witnesses said she cursed the house and anyone who dared to step foot in it again.
Personally, I don’t buy into all that mumbo jumbo, but it makes for a compelling story.
I hope this answers any questions you had.
* * *
Yours,
Ronald Hopkins
* * *
Laura read the email through a second time before she leaned back in her desk chair.
Hanged and then burned, she pondered as she thought of the creature she’d seen. That explained a few things.
“They did more than just hang you, didn’t they Florence?” Laura muttered as she thought of the shackles, the growling, the claws.
The death of Florence Blackmore had been long and drawn out. The townsfolk would have seen it as a just punishment, no doubt, for the death of her family and for the death of her child. Whether she’d been a witch or just a deranged individual was anyone’s guess, Laura supposed, but there was some closure in knowing.
She wasn’t sure why she wanted to know what happened to that woman. Perhaps it was because she had looked into that creature’s eyes and seen more than just hate and anger. Perhaps it was because she had lived through the encounter. But her curiosity had demanded answers.
There was definite closure in knowing that the house no longer stood. That the spirit, or curse, or whatever it was, could hurt no one else.
She wished it had happened sooner. She wished the house had not succeeded in claiming two more lives before action was taken. But hindsight was always clearer. And there was always the possibility that the couple had actually committed suicide. Laura doubted it. But the chance existed.
Laura got up from her workstation and walked the short distance to the water cooler on her own. She couldn’t keep the smile from her face at that accomplishment. Despite what she’d read, despite what had happened, life moved on, whether you wanted it to or not. And she was set on not being left behind.
She would never forget what happened at the Blackmore house. She would never be able to un-see it. But she would move on, she would move forward, because it was either that or get lost in the darkness. And she wasn’t certain she would ever escape that again.
The Haunting of Ebonywood House
Chapter 1
Summer Break
* * *
“Can you believe that he made us stay the full three hours for that econ final?” Adam Bolton whined from the passenger seat of the car, his head thrown back in dramatic protest. He’d always been the dramatic one, the one to exaggerate and draw attention to himself. He had a lot to draw attention to but he tried a little too hard. “It was practically inhumane.”
“What do you care? You cheated for half of it?” Sophia Gibbs, the driver, sent him a knowing smile. She was forever the logical one. She would always be there to point out the flaws in anyone’s argument.
“I may have cheated, but you let me.” He grinned as she rolled her eyes. He hoped that his charm would earn him her forgiveness for the cheating. It had always worked for them before.
“Will you two just kiss and get it over with?” William Conolly advised from his placed in the backseat, sandwiched between Miriam Campbell and Jeremy Cull. It wasn’t the worst car trip he’d been on, and it was better than waiting for his parents to pick him up. The minute Sophia had offered to take them home for break he’d been the first to accept.
Miriam chuckled. “You know that will never happen, Will. Sophia is better than that.” Adam and Sophia had maintained a casual flirtation for years, but they were all certain that it would go nowhere.
“Excuse me?” Adam turned in his seat to look at her, his blue eyes flaring. “What is wrong with me?
“Oh, where do I start?” Miriam began to count of imaginary points of fault off on her fingers. She could do so out loud, but she knew that it would be more infuriating this way.
<
br /> There was a flurry of movement as Adam reached back to grab her hands and stop her. Sophia swerved the car at the distraction.
“Hey, morons, I’m driving. Can we stay in our own seats please?” She smacked Adam’s shoulder for good measure as he settled back in his seat. “You lot a seriously just a bunch of children.”
“I’d like to make it home alive, if you don’t mind,” Jeremy muttered from his place near the window. He’d been quite so far. He was usually the quite one. They’d all learned to accept that about him.
“Oh, we’ll get back alive. Whether we’ll be in one piece will be a completely different matter.” Miriam sent him a grin and chuckled at the glare he received. Jeremy didn’t always appreciate her sense of humour.
“Can’t we all just be happy we’re done school for the year? We survived eight months of hell and now we get to have four months off to do whatever we want.” Will tossed his hair out of his eyes and debated getting it cut again. He’d leave it long just long enough to piss off his parents and then he’d see to it. It wasn’t any fun unless he could get a rise out of his parents every now and then. Not maintaining a pristine physical appearance was a set in stone way to get them irritated.
“Oh, it’s going to be a great summer. Dad got us the Egerton cabin for a week. We can head out as soon as you get squared away with your parents.” Adam looked from one friend to the other reading the blank expressions on their faces. “You can thank me any time.”
“Why would we thank you, when your dad was the one who hooked us up?” Miriam sassed. She watched his eyes narrow at the comment.
“Because I asked him to get it for us, you moron.” Adam glared.
“Play nice, children, or I’ll turn the car around,” Sophia chastised rolling her eyes. “For once I’d like to make it through one car ride with you idiots without feeling like I’m going to die.”
Haunted Happenings Page 5
