The Ash House

by Cross, Amy

  It's him.

  I don't even know who he is, but it's the man I've seen several times now.

  I freeze, trying to convince myself that I imagined the whole thing, but finally I crawl to the entrance and look up toward the brightly-lit living room window. Rain is still crashing down, and I wait for a moment before realizing that I can't hide here in the ash house forever.

  With the skull still in my hands, I get to my feet and start squelching across the yard, struggling through the mud and rain until I reach the window. The ledge is too high for me to see over, so I have to grab a crate from near the front door and pull it closer, and then I climb up so that I can see inside.

  Rain is washing down across the glass, but I can just about make out Nana sleeping in her armchair. And the tall man is standing right next to her, staring down at her face.

  Scrambling down off the crate, I hurry over to the steps and then up to the door. My feet are so muddy, I actually slip as soon as I get into the hallway, but I manage to steady myself before running over to the living room door. Just as I'm about to call out to Nana, however, I see that she's completely alone, although she's starting to stir.

  “Daniel?” she says groggily, and then she looks down at my feet. “Is that mud? Have you been outside?”

  I step over to her, while looking around in case there's any sign of the man.

  “Did you see him?” I ask cautiously, worried in case the man appears at any moment.

  “Daniel! Stop! You're going to ruin my rug!”

  Clearly horrified, she gets to her feet and stumbles to the door, and then she stops to look out into the hallway. She's unsteady on her feet, swaying slightly, and I'm pretty sure she must have had way more than just one glass of wine. After all, she's been drinking a lot more since Mum died. Finally she turns to me, while brushing her left shoulder.

  “Daniel, what's the meaning of this?” she asks, staring at me but squinting a lot, as if she's having trouble focusing. “You've tracked mud all the way into the house and -”

  She stops suddenly, and I realize she's spotted the human skull I'm still holding in my hands.

  “Daniel, what's going on here?”

  I open my mouth to tell her, but suddenly there's another flash of lightning and for a fraction of a second I see the man standing right behind Nana, with his hand resting on her left shoulder.

  And he's staring at me.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Diane

  “What is it you want to show me?” I ask, as Nora continues to lead me through the storm. “I don't know how I'm supposed to help you.”

  I can already see the house ahead, with the living room light burning bright through the dark night. Rain is crashing down all around us and the sky is rumbling with the constant threat of worse weather to come, but Nora seems utterly frantic. She's gripping my hand and almost dragging me along, although she finally slows a little as we reach the edge of the clearing. And somehow, her grip gets tighter.

  At that moment, a flash of lightning briefly fills the yard, and I see the ash house.

  She's holding my hand so tight, it almost hurts.

  “What is it?” I ask. “Is something wrong?”

  She hesitates, before starting once again to lead me through the mud. When she reaches the ash house and gets down onto all fours and crawls inside, I follow her there too, and I quickly find that although the ground inside is dry, something seems to have ripped up much of the soil. A moment later, my free hand brushes against some kind of gnarled, exposed tree root, and Nora lets go of my other hand. It's almost as if she wants me to be free now, to feel what we've found.

  “It wasn't like this before,” I whisper.

  Another flash of lightning fills the yard, and for a moment I'm able to see that Nora has found something else on the ground. I don't get a proper look, but it was almost as if she was holding some pieces of bone.

  “What have you got there?” I ask, edging forward and reaching out through the darkness.

  As soon as I touch the patch of disturbed soil, I feel several sharp items poking out. I pick one of them up, and I can immediately tell that I'm holding a fragment of bone. Turning the piece over, I find that one end of the bone is broken, with sharp little shards coming away easily, and the surface has little symbols and numbers carved into one side.

  “Has this always been here?” I whisper. “Was somebody buried in here?”

  I look toward Nora, but all I can make out is her outline near the entrance, silhouetted against the rain-lashed yard. She's reaching down and gathering up more pieces of bone, and she seems utterly lost by what she's already found. Thinking back to everything I ever heard about Nora Copstone, and about the claims that she disappeared here many years ago, I suddenly realize that these bones might belong to her.

  “Did you dig them up?” I ask. “Is that why you brought me here? Did you want me to find them? But then why now? Why not before?”

  I wait, but the only sound comes from outside as rain continues to crash down.

  “It was your father, wasn't it?” I continue. “Your father, George Copstone, killed you and buried you. That's what everyone assumed anyway, even if there was no proof. There were even rumors that he'd bribed the police. And the markings...”

  My voice trails off for a moment. I only remember fragments of the story, but I think I'm finally starting to piece it all together.

  “He thought you were possessed by a demon,” I whisper, with tears in my eyes. “Is that what this was all about? He killed you and made these markings on your bones, all because of some crazy idea about a demon? Were you alive or dead when he started carving into your bones?”

  Another flash of lightning briefly fills the yard, and I see Nora's face as she stares down at the collection of bones in her hand. And now, slowly, I'm starting to become aware of a faint rattling sound coming from her face, as if she's sobbing and all the broken bones in her jaw are shaking and grinding against one another. While she's holding the bones in one hand, her other hand is fumbling with a small silver cross that's hanging from a chain around her neck.

  “What do you want me to do?” I ask. “You're not at peace, are you? You're still scared, even now. If you can just tell me what you want, I'll do my best to help.”

  I wait, but she still doesn't say anything.

  “If I get a pen and some paper,” I continue, “could you write it down? That way I'd know, and then I could do whatever it takes. I want to help you, but I need -”

  Suddenly I hear a loud crashing sound over the rain, coming from the house, and a moment later there's the sound of somebody yelling.

  It's Daniel.

  “My son,” I stammer, filled with panic as I turn to look out at the yard and then back to Nora. “What's -”

  Another flash of lightning strikes, and this time Nora leans toward me and forces her mouth open, sending shards of bone falling from her broken jaw.

  And she screams.

  “No!” Daniel yells inside the house.

  “I have to go to him!” I shout, scrambling past Nora and out into the yard, then getting to my feet and hurrying toward the steps.

  By the time I get up to the front door, I can hear a series of banging sounds coming from inside the house, and I realize Daniel is shouting at someone.

  “Daniel!” I call out, rushing into the muddy hallway and then heading straight to the front room. “I'm here!”

  “We have to run!” Daniel's saying, pulling on Mum's arm even as she tries to get free of his grip. “It's not safe! There's something here and it wants to hurt us!”

  “What are you talking about?” Mum splutters, swaying slightly as if she's drunk. “I've got half a mind to send you straight to your room!”

  “He's right!” I stammer, hurrying over to them. “I think it's George Copstone. The stories were true, he murdered his daughter Nora and buried her in the ash house. He thought she was possessed, and he killed her!”

  “I've se
en him!” Daniel hisses, still pulling on Mum's arm. “He's inside the house and he's mad at us. I've seen him before, but tonight he seems extra angry, as if something's pushed him over the edge. It's like he's getting stronger and stronger.” He pauses for a moment, before letting go of Mum's arm and looking down at a partially-broken human skull he's holding in his left hand. “Maybe it's this. Maybe it's my fault for digging it up.”

  “You have to get rid of it,” I tell him.

  He doesn't reply. Instead, he's simply staring at the skull.

  “Can you hear me?” I ask, before turning to Mum and seeing the shock in her eyes as she looks at the skull. “Can't either of you two hear me?”

  Reaching out, I try to grab Mum's arm, but somehow I can't quite manage to touch her. I try again, but something's holding me back. I try to do the same to Daniel, but again some kind of hidden force keeps me from actually touching him.

  “I'm right here!” I shout at him. “You have to hear me! I'm -”

  Stopping suddenly, I see that George Copstone is standing just a few feet away, filling the doorway and watching us. Now that I can see him properly in the light, I realize I recognize him from old newspaper photos; his chiseled, thin face is etched into the memories of everyone in this town, although right now he somehow looks even older and sterner, and his eyes seem to have sunk a little deeper into the sockets.

  “Keep away from them!” I shout, stepping in front of Daniel so that George can't get to him. “Keep the hell away from my son! He's not -”

  Before I can finish, Copstone takes a step forward, while keeping his eyes fixed firmly on Daniel.

  “Stop!” I yell, standing my ground even though the sight of Copstone's deathly features makes me want to turn and run.

  “We have to leave!” Daniel says behind me. “Nana, please, just trust me! Can't you see him? He's right here with us!”

  “The cemetery,” I whisper, as I remember the sight of little Nora holding a silver cross in the ash house. “There's a cemetery at the far side of the forest. If we get the bones there, maybe she'll be safe and this will all end. Maybe he'll go away.”

  I pause for a moment, before turning to Daniel.

  “Take the bones to the cemetery!” I shout. “Daniel, please, you have to hear my voice! Take the bones to the cemetery and this will all be over! It's what Nora wants!”

  “Please, Nana,” Daniel continues, clearly not hearing me as he tries to lead my mother out of the room. “I know you don't believe me right now, but you must have heard weird noises in this house. There's a man here, he's haunting us and he's standing behind you right now!”

  Mum turns and looks over her shoulder, straight toward George Copstone, but then she turns back to Daniel with a furrowed brow.

  “What are you talking about?” she asks, as another rumble of thunder fills the yard and rattles the window-frames. “Are you quite loopy?”

  “Get the bones to the cemetery!” I say firmly. “Daniel, it's the only -”

  Suddenly I feel something brushing against me from behind. Turning, I find that George Copstone is towering over me, still glaring at Daniel.

  “Leave him alone!” I yell. “Don't -”

  Before I can get another word out, Copstone turns and looks straight at me. He lets out a faint groan, and then he grabs me by the shoulders, hurling me across the room until I crash into the cabinet on the far side. The door shatters and I slam down to the floor with pieces of glass raining down all around me, and a moment later the cabinet itself falls and breaks apart as it lands. Plates and cups slide out and smash on the ground, but I'm already struggling to my feet. When I look over at Daniel, I see that he and Mum are staring this way. They might not be able to see me, but they sure noticed the cabinet crashing down.

  “Now do you believe me?” Daniel stammers, turning back to Mum as George Copstone steps closer to them both. “There's something in this house!”

  “Run!” I yell, hurrying over and trying to grab my son's arm. This time I manage to touch his wrist, although he doesn't react at all. “Daniel, get the bones out of here! Take them to the nearest cemetery!”

  “This is all nonsense,” Mum mutters, slurring her words. “Daniel, you have to be sensible.”

  “The cemetery,” he whispers, staring down at the skull as George Copstone looms over him from behind. “If we take the bones to the cemetery, he might not be able to get to her anymore. He might leave us all alone.”

  “That's right!” I shout, trying to pull on his wrist. I don't know if he heard me, or if he figured it out for himself, but I'm certain that getting the bones to the cemetery is his only chance. “Daniel, you have to move! Now!”

  “I'll tell you what you're going to do, young man,” Mum says, stepping over to her favorite armchair and slumping back down. “You're going to clean up all that mud before it dries into my nice rug.”

  She reaches down and picks up a half-empty bottle of wine, and then she starts pouring herself another glass.

  “And while you're doing that,” she adds, “I'm going to relax, because it's almost midnight and I've had a long day.”

  “I can't leave you here!” he tells her.

  “You're not getting me out of this chair,” she replies, “not for all the tea in China. And if there is a ghost, well, at least I'll have some adult company for a change.”

  “You don't have time for this!” I shout, trying to pull Daniel toward the door. “You have to run! She'll be fine, he's never hurt her before so why would he start now? But you have to run!”

  He hesitates for a moment, as if he's still not sure he can leave Mum alone, and then I watch in horror as George Copstone places a hand on his shoulder from behind.

  “No!” Daniel yells, spinning around and then rushing over to the doorway.

  “Get back here!” Mum shouts. “Clean this mess up at once!”

  Running out of the room, I follow Daniel across the hallway and through the front door. Grabbing my old red hold-all from next to the pile of shoes, he races out into the yard and crawls into the ash house. Rain is still crashing down as I make my way down the steps, although after a moment I hear a faint groaning sound over my shoulder and I turn to see that George Copstone is coming after us.

  “You're going to leave him alone,” I tell him. “This isn't your house. Not anymore.”

  Suddenly Copstone's snarl gets louder, and I turn to see that Daniel is already scrambling out of the ash house. He has the hold-all with him still, and pieces of bone are poking out from the top.

  “Run, Daniel!” I yell. “You know the way! Don't stop until you reach the cemetery!”

  And then George Copstone pushes past me, hurrying out across the yard and setting off after Daniel.

  “No!” I shout, rushing after them both. “Leave him alone! Daniel, run!”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Daniel

  Suddenly my right foot catches in the mud and I trip, falling forward and landing on the bag of bones. I feel a sharp pain in my ribs and I let out an agonized gasp as I roll to one side, but I know I have to get up.

  I've been running for almost an hour now, and I'm desperately out of breath, but I can't stop now.

  Hauling myself up from the mud, I grab the handles of the hold-all. A couple of bones have spilled out, so I take a moment to slip them back into the bag before setting off again. Every step is difficult as my feet continually sink into the mud, and I can't believe I haven't reached the cemetery already. Part of me worries that I might have taken a wrong turn somewhere in the forest, but I figure that once I reach the road I'll be able to figure out exactly where I am.

  For now, I just have to keep going.

  After taking just a couple more steps, however, I suddenly feel as if I can feel someone at my side. I stop and turn, but all I see is the vast dark forest stretching off into the distance. I can't see or hear anyone at all, but I'm certain that I somehow sensed a presence nearby. I felt the same thing back at the house, just be
fore the cabinet suddenly crashed down without any obvious reason, and even now I can feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck.

  I almost want to believe that my -

  Suddenly I spot something moving in the distance, and to my horror I recognize the silhouette of the man from the house. He's coming this way and he's walking fast, so I immediately turn and start racing through the mud. I'm out of breath again and my legs are aching, and with each step my feet sink ankle-deep into the soggy ground. Rain is still falling and the sky is still rumbling with the threat of more thunder and lightning, but at last I can see a wall up ahead, which means I've managed to make my way through the heart of the forest and somehow I'm finally close to the cemetery.

  With my next step, however, my right foot sticks in the mud and holds me back. I twist and try to pull free, but I'm already falling and this time my foot refuses to come loose.

  I let out a cry as I feel a flash of pain in my ankle, and as I land I feel something snap.

  It takes a moment before I'm able to summon the strength to haul myself up again. My ankle is throbbing, and the pain only gets worse as I reach down and start gently easing my foot out of the mud. I've broken something, or at least fractured a bone, but finally I get my foot free. I don't know if I can put any pressure on it at all, but I guess I'm going to have to find out. Reaching over, I grab the handles of the bag, and then I start to get up.

  Suddenly I see that the man from the house is standing right over me.

  Startled, I pull back and stare up at his dark, dead eyes. It's the same man I saw in the old newspaper report, and he's staring down at me with an expression of pure hatred. I swear, it's as if I'm looking into the eyes of a man with no soul.

  “I'm setting her free!” I shout over the rain, as I tighten my grip on the hold-all's handles. Pulling the bag closer, I hear the bones clattering inside. “She wants to be buried properly!”

  I wait, but he says nothing. He's simply watching me, although after a moment his gaze shifts and he looks down at the bag itself.