Haunted Happenings

by Lucrezia Black

  “We haven’t even stepped into the house and I’m already sensing multiple spirits. If I had to guess, this house was built upon a grave site and not a small one.” Dana glanced around at the green grass that was so unassuming. “I’m not sure how they would have been allowed to build here, but it might have been a private grave, family gave. They may have been unmarked. I can’t say. Times were different.”

  She closed her eyes against the waves of emotions that swarmed her from the number of spirits around her. She needed to concentrate if she was going to be of any use to them. She needed to focus.

  “Well it’s not the spirits outside of the house that concern me. It’s the ones inside.” Wes took her hand and gently led her to the front door. He knocked twice and waited politely on the step.

  An exhausted looking Marie who was carrying a rather put out toddler greeted him. She’d only had two children when she’d left the university. He had to assume this was the most recent addition to the family.

  “Oh Wes!” She offered a weak smile. “And Dana! I’m so glad you could come. We really need your expertise.”

  “Having an issue with some ghosts?” Wes glanced around the entrance hall as he walked into the house. “It certainly looks like they would be at home in a place like this.”

  “Right? I feel like I’m in a horror movie, but I assure you it’s real.” Marie led them back to the kitchen where everyone was still gathered.

  Shannon and Eric were seated at opposite ends of the room. The girls were playing cards in the corner. Marie led them to the breakfast nook and offered a seat.

  It took her less than five minutes to summarize everything that had happened since they’d moved into the house. Wes and Dana listened intently. Wes took notes on his pocket notepad and asked questions when he wanted something clarified.

  When she was finally done recapping everything up to the events of that morning Marie held out her hands in surrender. “I have no clue what is going on. I have no clue what to do. Anything you can offer would be great.”

  They sat silently for a moment as if considering everything that they’d been told. It was Dana who spoke first.

  “You clearly have some very angry spirits in this house. For the most part, over the years, I believe you have been dealing with benevolent spirits. Ones who like to play tricks, move objects, and slam doors. They’ve probably been in this house since it was built. They probably belong to the grave yard it was built on.”

  “Grave yard?” Shannon spoke from the corner her face creased in confusion.

  Dana sent a glance in her direction. “Yes, the house was built on a grave yard in case you were unaware. Though I’m sure even those who built the house were unaware.”

  She turned her attention back to Marie and continued. “The spirits that we are really concerned about are the ones attacking the children. Something tragic happened here between a man and two women. Something that still lingers in this house. It resonates. And it had welcomed more evil with it.”

  “Did you know anything about that, mum?” Eric looked at his mother, the accusation in his voice clear.

  Shannon shook her head.

  “You have a demon in your house now. It’s been here before, at least twice. I can sense that. The worrying thing is who it’s latched onto.”

  Marie’s hands were clenched together to the point that her knuckles were white. “Who?”

  Dana paused for a moment. This was the part she always hated. “I thought at first it would be your oldest, Laura. The writing on her stomach is intentional, it’s personal. But I fear that Paul is its choice. Demons tend to target those that are most vulnerable and there is nothing more vulnerable than a young child.”

  “Paul?” Marie’s voice shook on his name.

  “It also fits the pattern of boy-girl-boy, if what you’ve told me is true. And they are ritualistic beings. We have to cleanse the house.”

  “When?” Marie’s eyes were wide.

  “Tonight.”

  Chapter 8

  Escape

  * * *

  Waiting until nightfall was a painful experience for everyone. For the most part they stayed in the kitchen. They made meals and played games with the children. They tried their best to keep things as civil as possible. It was difficult. Eric was rather irate with his mother and rightly so. But they kept things as cool as they could until nightfall.

  They couldn’t put the children to bed. They didn’t want to leave anyone unsupervised. They didn’t want to risk anything happening to the children. But they also had work to be done.

  Wes and Dana went to and from their car gathering supplies, which they set up in the main entrance hall. Marie didn’t understand any of it. There were candles and herbs. There were bowls with liquids in them and symbols drawn on the hardwood.

  It all looked rather intricate. It looked like something out of a movie or a book. It didn’t look like something that should be real, something that should actually work. But she was past the point of questioning what was real and what wasn’t. She was past the point of disbelieving. She just had to accept that this was happening and hope that it works.

  “When the sun sets we will light the candles and begin to cleanse the house,” Dana said to the group of them. Everyone nodded but she wasn’t certain that they completely understood.

  “Things might get hairy in here. You need to be ready for that. You need to be ready to get out of the house if things get too intense. Do you understand me?” Dana looked from one face to the next.

  “What about you guys?” Eric looked from Wes to Dana his eyes holding concern.

  “We can handle ourselves. This isn’t the first time we’ve done this and it likely won’t be the last.” Wes cast a glance at Dana and she sent him a reassuring smile. “We’re the professionals, after all.”

  Dana gave a small chuckle at the use of the term and went into the hallway to wait for the sun to set. She had barely set flame to the first candle when things began to go wrong.

  The doors in the house slammed shut blocking them off in the hallway and locking the people in the kitchen in that room. She could hear their cries of protest but she focused on lighting the remaining candles. She kept her hands steady and her mind clear. That was the most important part. She needed to keep her mind as empty as possible in order to avoid letting the spirits take her over.

  The portraits shook on the walls, rattling on their holdings and protesting against their restraints. Dana knew it wouldn’t be long before they flew off the wall and towards her. She knew that she needed to be quick.

  In the kitchen they were battling a force of their own. Cupboard doors were opening and closing and dishes were flying around the room. Utensils flew from the drawers and went careening towards the ceiling.

  Everyone took refuge on the floor, hiding from the flying debris. Laura and Rachel huddled next to their mother and father. Shannon lie close as well, her hands over her head for protection.

  And little Paul was…

  Marie looked up from where she was hiding and her heart sank in her chest. Where was little Paul? Where was her baby?

  “Where is Paul?” Marie looked at Eric, her eyes wide with panic. “Where is Paul!?”

  Eric shook his head. He didn’t know. He hadn’t seen where Paul had gotten to. One minute he’d been there and the next minute he was gone.

  “Oh my God. Paul is gone.” Marie jumped to her feet. She didn’t care about the flying objects. She didn’t care about whatever damage might happen to her. She needed to make sure that Paul was found.

  She slammed into the kitchen door. Her hand went to the handle but it refused to budge. She slammed against the door, she pounded on it, and she yelled.

  “It got Paul! The damn thing took Paul! You have to save him!” She was crying now as she was pounding against the door. She continued to pound on the door and scream until her hands ached and her throat was dry.

  In the hallway Dana heard the screams. Her heart cl
enched in her chest. This is what she had feared would happen. She could feel the portal had opened again. She could feel the demon’s power strengthening.

  If there was a portal then that’s where Paul would have been taken and there was only a short period of time for him to be rescued. Elsewise he would be lost forever, like the two before him. And she was not willing to let that happen. She would not let another child be lost to this. Not while she could help it.

  She looked at Wes. He’d always been so supportive of her choices. He’d always been behind her every decision when they did these things. She doubted he would be super supportive of what she was about to do.

  “I need you to continue the cleanse, Wes,” she instructed. The paintings had come from the walls now and were flying overhead. When they hit the opposite walls the portraits shattered into a hundred pieces.

  Dana got to her feet trying to dodge the debris that was raining down around them. She had no clue what it would be like upstairs, but she imagined it would only be worse.

  “What are you going to do, Dana?” Wes looked at her the concern clear in his eyes. She always did radical things and she always came back. But that didn’t stop him from worrying.

  “I have to go save Paul. I’m the only one who can.”

  Dana ran up the stairs. She knew exactly where the portal would have formed. She could feel the energy of it. She could feel its strength pull at her.

  There was such a darkness in the house, such an evil energy to begin with. Now it was centralized to the master bedroom.

  She didn’t know what had happened there but it had to have been tragic. Only tragic events, traumatic events, welcomed in this kind of energy. It took something substantial for a demon portal to open. It took a special kind of hatred to live within an individual already.

  Dana rushed into the bedroom and it was like stepping into another world. Everything was saturated in a different colour, like a photo that had been over exposed for too long. The minute she stepped through the door she also stepped back in time.

  She stood behind a young woman with a revolver, pointing it at a couple cowering in the bed. The man appeared to be trying to explain something, but he was the first to take a bullet. His lover fell dead beside him. And then, as the grief overwhelmed her she turned the gun on herself.

  Dana flinched with each gunshot as she felt the pain of each death course through her as though it were her own. And then, as the memory faded away she saw what she was dealing with.

  The woman who had fired the gun stood before her and in her arms she held little Paul. She stroked his head affectionately and cooed at him as he slept in her arms.

  “He’s not as good as the last one. He’s a little bigger,” she said as she looked down at him. “But he will do. I never got one of my own so he will do.”

  “You don’t get to keep him,” Dana took a step forward and struggled to keep her mind clear. She needed to keep her mind clear if she had any hopes of getting out of her, of getting Paul away from the demon. “He has to go back to his mum.”

  “He’s mine now,” the demon said holding him close.

  “He’s not yours. He has to go home,” Dana kept her voice firm. “He belongs to Marie and Eric Hyatt. He does not belong to you.”

  The image of the demon faltered a little bit. And Dana pressed on. She knew that in order to make the demon disappear she had to insert reality. She had to prove to it that the child wasn’t hers.

  “He is not yours. His name is Paul Hyatt. He does not belong to you. He belongs to Marie and Eric Hyatt.”

  Dana watched the image of the demon flicker. It flickered again and again.

  “He is NOT YOURS!”

  The demon vanished and she barely had enough time to rush forward to grab Paul before he crashed to the floor. She scooped up the toddler and held him close to her. He wasn’t even crying. In fact he was fast asleep.

  The room returned to its regular tone, the portal closing. She could tell. They would be in the clear soon.

  Oh, so she thought, until the house shook beneath her.

  She rushed down the stairs holding Paul close to her chest. She rounded the corner quickly and sent Wes a panicked look.

  “I’m almost done,” he insisted emptying the contents of one of the bowls.

  “No time. We need to get everyone out,” Dana ordered. She rushed towards the kitchen. If the portal broken then the house had a fifty-fifty chance of collapsing in on itself. If it remained standing she would consider it a miracle. Still, she didn’t want to remain inside and test those odds.

  She threw her weight against the kitchen door and it gave way. The house shook around her. Items still flew in the kitchen. The rest of the Hyatt family were being assaulted by kitchenware.

  “Everyone!” She shouted to the room. “Out of the house. NOW!”

  It took little persuading to get them to follow her. They raced towards the front door all of them feeling the force that was pushing against them. And when they stumbled outside it was as though the force around them broke.

  Dana handed Paul back to his crying mother and drew a sigh of relief. They stood on the street, off the property, and all fought to catch their breath.

  “We’re not going back there,” Marie told Eric her voice firm despite the tears rolling down her face. “You can’t make me step foot back in that house.”

  Eric pulled her close and pulled their daughters into the hug. “I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

  Dana and Wes watched knowing that it was yet another job well done for them. And this one would make one hell of a paper.

  The Haunting of Fyfe Hall

  Chapter 1

  A Chance Encounter

  * * *

  Yorkshire, England

  May 7, 1880

  * * *

  Gloria Smythe had never liked Yorkshire, but every spring she went there to visit her cousin without fault. It was crucial that they return to London for the summer season, but she could justify the spring away from the hustle and bustle. It was likely good for her. She would always tell herself that.

  She just couldn’t tolerate her cousins.

  In a house as big as their country estate, one would think that it would be easy to avoid running into them. That was never the case. It seemed like she encountered her cousin Violet in every room in which she sought refuge. And after a month of visiting, it was getting tiresome.

  Gloria tried not to be bitter. She knew that Violet invited them up in an attempt to distract them from all that was happening in life. She knew that it was all out of kindness and concern. But, if she was honest, Gloria was a rather bitter person. And time wasn’t helping that.

  She hadn’t wanted Benjamin to leave to join the military. He was her first born. He was her oldest. He was the heir. The military wasn’t his place. His place was to stay with the family. He was supposed to take over Fyfe Hall once Gerald died.

  She didn’t want to think of her husband dying but it was an inevitable fact of life. And, as heir, Benjamin was supposed to stay and learn to handle the estate.

  But no, he had wanted to be the hero. He had wanted to serve king and country. So he’d gone against all tradition and left, without permission, to join the war.

  She was beyond angry with him for his choice. She had been beyond angry with his choice for a year now. But that anger was transitioning into fear as time passed.

  It was difficult to get news from the front. She’d heard of many other families going months without hearing a word from their children and their husbands. But there had been something in his last letter that had worried her. And there was something about the time that had passed since that letter that had her heart sinking.

  She knew that, quite often, the remains of those who died on the front never made it home. She knew that, if she never heard from him again, it could be because he was dead or simply lost. But she had a sinking feeling, a terrible feeling, that her oldest child was gone. And that she would never hav
e confirmation of that fact.

  She would spend the rest of her life wondering, she was sure of it, and that was making her more bitter by the day.

  Sure, she had other children. She could hope that, when Warwick, her other son, came of age, he would step into the position of family head without complaint, even though it was not his birthright. She could hope that Veronica and Molly would marry into respectable families and continue to bring status to the Smythe name. That was really all any mother could hope for.

  Gloria let out a heavy sigh as her thoughts continued to circle the same topic they had all day. She closed the book she had been pretending to be reading and sent her cousin a glance across the room.

  “I think I’ll go for a walk. I believe some air will do me good.” She got to her feet and straightened out her skirts.

  “I should come with you. It’s not safe to walk alone at the moment.” Violet jumped to her feet, a little too eager to escape the house and stretch her legs.

  “And why is that? Did something happen?” This definitely had Gloria’s curiosity piqued. She hadn’t heard any news at all since they’d arrived.

  “Reggie said that a band of gypsies has settled on the outskirts of the property.” She waved a hand at it. “Temporarily, of course. We all know what they’re like. But he told me that none of the ladies were to go walking alone. Just in case.”

  Gloria had the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn’t scared of the gypsies. But she’d had more unsavory encounters in her life than Violet had, living in the city. She was used to seeing people in the less well off areas. She knew what desperation looked like. She’d never met a gypsy who didn’t want to trade or talk.