The Ash House

by Cross, Amy

  “You can't have her!” I yell, pulling the bag even closer. “You murdered her, but at least now she's going to get away from you!”

  He opens his mouth slightly, revealing two rows of dark, rotten teeth.

  “You can't stop me,” I add, finally struggling to my feet and turning to head over to the cemetery wall. “You're not -”

  Suddenly he reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder. A spark of pain ripples down my arm and I drop to my knees, and a moment later I feel his grip tightening. I try to pull free, but he's holding me too firmly and the pain is building fast. Letting out a faint whimper, I see that the cemetery wall is only a few steps away now, but for some reason the hand on my shoulder is holding me in place and I can't even begin to slip away. A moment later I feel him pressing down harder, as if he's pushing me into the mud, and my knees buckle.

  Landing hard on my chest, I feel the hand still pressing against me. He's trying to force me further and further down, and I have to turn my head to one side in order to keep from getting mud in my mouth.

  In his other hand, he's holding the little black Bible that was on Nana's table earlier.

  “Be gone, demon,” he croaks, his voice sounding dry and harsh. “In the name of the Lord, I command thee to leave this mortal realm.”

  “You can't have her!” I yell, still clutching the hold-all tight, still trying to force myself up even as I feel myself being forced closer to the mud.

  “You shall not have these children,” he continues, tilting his head slightly but keeping his gaze fixed on me, “for they are lambs of God and they shall be protected.”

  After a moment I manage to twist onto my back, and now I can see George Copstone leaning closer and still reading from the Bible as he presses me deeper into the ground. Silhouetted against the night sky, with rain crashing down all around us, his dark eyes remain fixed on me and a few seconds later I feel muddy water rushing into my mouth.

  “Stop!” I splutter, trying to spit the mud out. “Help! Somebody help me!”

  Copstone is pushing me deeper down and his grip is too strong to resist. Muddy water is flowing not only into my mouth, but also into my eyes. When I try to cry out, I simply spit out some more of the water, and I can barely even see anymore as grit and mud wash over my face.

  “Thou shalt not persist,” Copstone growls. “Thou shalt not prosper. Thou shalt not have use of these souls for thine foul purpose.”

  “Help me,” I gasp, somehow still keeping my grip on the hold-all, and feeling one of the bones bumping against my hand. “Please...”

  Suddenly something rushes overhead, and Copstone's grip loosens. I lift my head and open my eyes, just in time to see the little girl crashing into his chest. She screams, sending shards of bone flying from her broken mouth, but I can't quite bring myself to get up. My ankle is throbbing and my chest is tight, and I feel as if I'll never be able to stand again. All I can do is stare as the little girl runs past Copstone, and as he turns to watch her.

  And then, as if from the cold air all around, I hear a familiar voice whispering into my ear:

  “Daniel! Run!”

  I immediately roll away and pull the hold-all closer before scrambling to my feet and rushing toward the cemetery wall. I don't even dare slow as I reach the wall; instead I throw myself at the top and skid across the wet stones, sliding straight across to the other side and then falling down hard against the top of a tombstone. Letting out a cry of pain, I drop down to the ground with a thud, as I hear the bag full of rattling bones land right next to me.

  Immediately hauling myself up, I start dragging the bag away from the wall.

  My ankle is still throbbing, but I know I can't stop yet. After a few more paces, figuring I'm far enough into the cemetery now, I drop to my knees and start digging with my hands, scooping out chunks of soggy mud until I reach firmer soil further down.

  I look over my shoulder, and to my horror I see that George Copstone is still coming. He's watching me from the other side of the cemetery wall, but for a moment I assume that he won't be able to cross over onto the church's land. And then, slowly, he steps straight through the wall.

  “No!” I yell, digging faster and faster, desperately trying to create a proper hole in the ground.

  Realizing that Copstone has almost reached me, I grab the hold-all and tip the contents out, and then I immediately start shoveling muddy soil over the top. The bones are quickly covered, with only the upper part of the skull still exposed. Each pile of mud I put in place, however, is quickly washed away as more and more rain comes crashing down.

  “The Lord shall protect,” Copstone says as he comes closer and closer. “The Lord shall see to it that evil and wickedness do not prosper in this world.”

  Too terrified to even turn and see exactly where he is right now, I focus on burying the bones properly. I quickly scoop up a big handful of mud and drop it against the skull, and then I grab the hold-all and place it over the top, making sure that this time the soil isn't washed away. The bones are completely buried, and finally I look straight ahead and see George Copstone snarling as he leans toward me.

  “She's not yours anymore!” I scream. “She's safe from you now!”

  He opens his mouth and snarls again.

  And then he fades away, and all I see is rain crashing down and pounding against the upturned hold-all.

  I wait, looking around, but suddenly I'm all alone in the cemetery. My hands are trembling and I figure I can't move the hold-all away until the rain has stopped, but for now Nora's bones are safely buried. Once the rain is gone, I'll be able to finish the job properly and make sure she stays out of her father's reach. Until then, I'm not going to move from this spot, and I'm going to keep the hold-all in place so that not one drop of rain hits the new grave.

  I'm not alone. I can feel someone near me, and it's not George Copstone and it's not his daughter Nora. And in the back of my mind, I already know that it was Mum's voice I heard a moment ago, urging me to keep going. She gave me the strength.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Diane

  “Nora Copstone was murdered a long time ago,” Detective Fraser says as he stands in the doorway, “and George Copstone has been dead for almost a decade. Plus, the people who handled the case are long gone. All we can do is correct the record and make sure people know that Nora's body was finally discovered.”

  “I feel so awful,” Mum replies. “I knew there were bones down there, but I never thought for one moment that they might belong to that poor little girl.”

  “You didn't think to contact the police?”

  “I thought they should just be left there. I assumed somebody must have had a good reason for putting them under the ash house, and it was clear they were very old. When I first found them a few years ago, I decided to put them back. I suppose I thought the past should stay buried.”

  “I'm going to have to talk to your grandson,” Detective Fraser continues. “At some point, he has to stop with all the crazy stories and tell us what really happened. I need to you talk to him and try to get him to see sense.”

  As he and Mum continue to discuss the bones, and as birds tweet outside in the morning sun, I turn and head through to the living room.

  Daniel is sitting at the window, looking out at the yard. Sunlight has begun to dry the puddles of rainwater, but it'll take a while before the yard is anything less that a muddy bog. Taking a seat next to him, I realize that he's looking at the ash house, although he has George Copstone's tattered old black Bible in his hands, having fished it out of the mud. To be honest, even the sight of that thing make me shudder, and I can't help hoping that Daniel will toss it onto a fire before too long.

  “You did a good thing,” I say after a moment. “She couldn't rest while her bones were buried there. Now maybe she can be at peace.”

  I have no idea whether he can hear me right now, and he certainly hasn't acknowledged me in any way, but I can't help thinking that at the very least h
e might be able to sense my presence. Maybe he can take some vague comfort from the fact that I'm here.

  “You were very brave,” I add. “I'm proud of you.”

  I can't help waiting a moment, in case he suddenly turns to me and replies, but I suppose that would be too much to ask. I should probably be grateful that I get to be around him at all. That I'll get to watch him grow up.

  A moment later I hear somebody outside, and I turn to see that Detective Fraser is picking his way through the mud, heading to his car. There's already mud all over his trouser legs.

  “The bones are going to be buried properly,” Mum says, and I turn to see her standing in the doorway. “There'll even be a gravestone for the poor little girl, with her name and dates. A lot of people in Dully are going to be very relieved when they learn that the mystery of Nora Copstone's disappearance has been solved. Everyone knew she was dead, but the case still hung heavy. Now we can put it all in the past.”

  “I told you something was wrong in this house,” Daniel replies, still sounding a little annoyed. “Why didn't you believe me?”

  “I've lived here for so many years,” she points out, “and I never noticed anything. Your mother never saw or heard anything either. I suppose maybe we were both too closed to that kind of thing.”

  “You can't have been,” Daniel tells her. “It was too obvious.”

  “From what I've heard,” she continues, “George Copstone was a wretched man. Brutal, vindictive, cruel... The police think he tortured his daughter and beat her constantly, trying to drive a demon out from her body, and that finally he went too far and killed her. They think he burned her body in the ash house, and then he buried her there. Then he probably bribed the local police, who were business partners of his, and nothing was ever done about what had happened. It's quite shocking to think about, really.”

  “But you believe me now, don't you?” Daniel asks.

  “I can't deny that you found those bones.”

  “You knew they were there,” he points out.

  “I did.” She pauses. “I found some of them once, a long time ago, and I decided to leave them buried. I suppose I didn't want to cause a fuss. I'm sorry, Daniel. That was wrong of me.”

  “But what about Nora's father? Do you believe that he was here, and that he chased me through the forest?”

  “Well...”

  She pauses for a moment.

  “That's a little more fantastical, Daniel,” she adds finally, with a hint of caution in her voice. “You have to admit, it's a lot to ask someone to believe that the ghost of a dead old man was loitering, or that the ghost of his murdered daughter helped you to find her bones. That might take a little more effort.”

  “But it all happened!”

  “Well, perhaps it's a discussion for another time.” She pauses again. “Now, I don't know about you, but I for one am extremely hungry and I think I'd rather like a late breakfast. In fact, let's just call it brunch. I'll go and start making something, and you can set the table in a while. Does that sound like fun?”

  “I guess,” he mutters as she turns and heads through to the kitchen.

  Hearing Detective Fraser's car driving away, I look out into the yard for a moment before turning back to Daniel.

  “I know you probably can't hear me,” I tell him, “but I want you to know that I'll always be here. I'll be watching over you and keeping you safe, and you'll never be alone. And maybe you'll be able to feel that deep down in your heart.”

  I wait, watching his face as he continues to look out the window.

  “I know you're here,” he whispers suddenly.

  I immediately feel a tightening knot of anticipation in my chest. I've been waiting for this moment. Hoping...

  “I can feel your presence,” he continues, keeping his voice low as if he's worried that my mother might hear. “Maybe that makes me crazy, but I don't care. I know you're here. I know you're close. I even heard your voice last night.”

  “You did?” I ask, with tears in my eyes.

  He's still staring out at the ash house.

  “That was you, wasn't it?” he whispers.

  “Of course it was. I was with you the whole time.”

  “Well, I think it was you, anyway,” he adds. “I could feel it.”

  Realizing that he isn't actually hearing anything I say to him, I'm still relieved that he seems to sense my presence in some manner. I lean forward and put an arm around his shoulders, even though I doubt he can actually feel me. We sit like this for a few minutes, and Daniel certainly seems to be at peace as he watches the yard and as morning sunlight streams through the rain-spattered window and catches the side of his face.

  I think he's going to be just fine.

  And at least I'll get to be right here with him.

  Eventually he looks down at the Bible and opens it to one of the back pages, where religious symbols and notes have been left scrawled by somebody with spidery handwriting.

  “Get rid of that thing,” I tell him. “You shouldn't even have it in the house.”

  “George Copstone must have written all of this,” he mutters, turning to yet another page of notes. “He really believed Nora was possessed by some kind of demon. He thought he was doing God's work by trying to get that demon out of her body. I guess eventually he gave up and decided his only option was to kill her. Still, I don't get why he buried her in the ash house. That doesn't make much sense.”

  “He was just a mad old man by the end,” I whisper, as Daniel turns to yet another page, where Copstone left more extensive notes. “I don't think you'll find any logic in his actions.”

  “The good and precious soul of my little Nora is long gone,” he reads out loud, clearly struggling to decipher the appalling handwriting. “All that is left now is that foul creature, festering in her body and masquerading with her face. There is nothing left to save, yet I hesitate to destroy the flesh, since I fear the evil might then be released in some other form. I have prayed for guidance in this matter, but my prayers have not been answered. So long as her bones remain buried, however, the evil must surely be trapped. I have sanctified the ash house with symbols in the stones. I hope those symbols will be enough to hold her.”

  “Daniel!” Mum shouts after a moment. “Can you set the table now please, dear?”

  Sighing, he sets the Bible down and clambers off the sofa.

  I can't help smiling as I watch him trudge out of the room. Even though he had a hectic night and solved a big mystery, he can't get out of his chores.

  Getting to my feet, I make my way through to the hallway and then over to the front door. I look out at the yard and watch as sunlight dances in the puddles of muddy water. If this is how things will be from now on, if I'm going to quietly haunt this house and keep Daniel company, then I guess I can't complain. I used to be so scared of fading away to nothing, of never seeing my son grow up, but now I have a chance to stay with him forever, or at least for as long as he's here at the house.

  I'll stay right by his side.

  I'll watch over him forever.

  He'll never feel alone.

  “No!” Daniel screams suddenly. “Stop!”

  Startled, I turn and look across the hallway. Hearing footsteps running through to the kitchen, I hurry over to the door and stop just in time to see that Mum is standing next to the stove. There's pure fear in her eyes, but it takes a moment longer before I see that an arm is reaching from behind her, holding a bread-knife against her throat.

  “Please,” Mum gasps, “don't -”

  Before she can finish, the knife slices through her throat.

  Blood immediately starts spraying from the wound as Mum stumbles forward. Reaching up, she puts her hands against the thick cut, as if she's trying in vain to keep the blood from escaping. She lets out a faint gurgle and looks straight at me, as more and more blood arcs across the kitchen and splatters against the far wall, and then finally she slumps down against the floor. She tries to call out, but
more blood erupts from her mouth.

  Behind her, Nora Copstone is standing with the bloodied knife in her right hand.

  And smiling.

  “No!” Daniel shouts, rushing over to my mother and dropping to his knees, immediately checking her pulse.

  “What are you doing?” I stammer, staring in horror as Nora takes a step forward. Blood is dripping from the knife, and the smile on the little girl's lips is growing.

  “Nana!” Daniel shouts again, shaking my mother's shoulders. “Wake up!”

  Behind him, Nora Copstone takes a step closer with the dripping knife still in her hand. For a moment she keeps her gaze fixed on me, but then she turns and looks down at the back of Daniel's head.

  “Daniel, run!” I scream, rushing forward as Nora puts a hand on his shoulder. “Get out of here!”

  I grab his arm and try to pull him away, as Nora places the knife's blade against his neck. Before I can do anything, however, Nora turns to me and grins, and then she lets out an ear-piercing scream that fills the air and sends me staggering back. I put my hands over my ears and squeeze my eyes tight shut, and it takes several seconds before the sound fades.

  I drop to my knees, and then when I open my eyes I find that I've once again been pushed away. I'm all alone in the middle of the forest, which means my son is all alone in the house with that monster.

  Chapter Forty

  Diane

  “Daniel!” I scream, racing through the forest so fast that I'm barely able to thread a path between the trees. “Daniel, run!”

  As soon as I reach the rear of the house, I pull the back door open and rush into the kitchen. I come to a stop as I spot Mum's body on the floor, and for a moment I'm horrified by the sight of so much blood covering the walls. There's even blood on the counter, dripping down over the edge, but I don't see any sign of Daniel.

  I step around Mum's body, and I can already see from her glassy eyes that I'm too late to help her.

  Spotting bloodied footsteps on the floor, I hurry through to the dining room and see that several chairs have been left on their sides. There's blood on the table, and I'm starting to think that Daniel must have put up a hell of a fight.