The Proctor Hall Horror

by Bill Thompson

The police wouldn’t find Agnes Trimble and her son, Julien, that day. Those two watched everything from the old supervisor’s house. They saw the state police car arrive, followed by Landry and Phil. They entered the house and found the girl too. Everything was unraveling at once, it seemed to Agnes.

  “You idiot!” Agnes hissed. “You didn’t secure the trapdoor. They’ve escaped and so has she. It isn’t safe for us here anymore.” She watched Phil and the cops walk into the cane field. They were going to set Noah free.

  They could stay no longer. She ordered Julien to go kill April. Now that things were collapsing around them, it was too risky to let her live. He promised to do it and they split up.

  Agnes fled into the swamp. It was a place she knew well, where she had the means to survive and no one would find her. Julien went to his hidden Vespa and drove away. Mother was right about April, but with Landry free, she was all he had left. He decided he’d kill her just as soon as he finished telling her the things he was dying to reveal.

  On the way back to New Orleans, Landry told Cate what had happened to him and Phil. When he talked about Agnes instructing her son to kill April, she cried, “Oh God, how can we help her? What can we do?”

  There was nothing except to pray for her escape. Julien might already be on the way to where she was being held. With every cop in the state on the lookout, perhaps they’d find him before he could get to her.

  “But then what? If he’s caught but refuses to tell where she is, she’ll die!”

  “Maybe not. We have to hope she’ll be okay. We don’t know where she is or what he’s planning. We can only hope and pray.”

  “What will happen to Noah?” she asked, and Landry pulled to the shoulder.

  “With everything else, I never thought about him. There’s no way Harry Kanter will leave him in the house alone. They’ll put him in a state facility. We can’t let that happen. We have to go back.”

  He called Phil to be sure they were still at Proctor Hall, and twenty minutes later they put Noah in the back seat and once again headed home. They avoided mentioning things about the house or his family, knowing he understood everything.

  They put Noah in the apartment’s second bedroom. Landry helped him into the shower and gave him a set of his sweats. Once they were alone, he asked Cate what to do.

  She had an idea, and it was a good one. By the time the pizza deliveryman came, she had talked to her father and started planning Noah’s future.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Why are these policemen helping me? Always before, policemen hated me. They called me a liar and locked me up. Because I didn’t tell them what I had seen, they believed I did terrible things.

  When they let me come back home, it was different with my family gone. The man tried to be nice to me, but he couldn’t stop the woman from doing bad things. When she killed him, I wondered if she would do it to me next. But instead, she locked me in a box down in that hole. How long has it been? A year? Maybe even longer.

  Then those two men were in the hole with me. They talked to me. No one has talked to me in a long, long time. Then the bad one came too, the one they call Julien. He mocked me. He said I was crazy and how did I feel when my family died. No one should ever have that much pain. I lost everything that night.

  Who were the men who set me free from that hole today? And the woman. She cares about me.

  The policemen have brought me back to Proctor Hall. Why? What do they want from me? Is it going to start all over again? Are more people dead? Do they blame me for their deaths too?

  I will sit in my place on the step and wait. I haven’t been in this house in a very long time. I wonder if she’s still here. If she has left, then perhaps my family and I can be together again.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  As she sat alone for hours with her hands and feet bound, April had cried all the tears she had. Now fear had morphed into resolve. She never considered herself a strong-willed person, but she held the future in her hands. She’d die unless she escaped, so using every ounce of resolve, she tried to create a plan. If he returned — which was becoming less certain as the hours passed — he would kill her, but by God, she wouldn’t go without a fight.

  By removing her gag last night, he’d proved there was no use screaming because no one was nearby. Now she took in her surroundings. She sat on the floor in a small room with a window and a door. It had rough board walls and floors, and above her were rafters and the roof. The only furnishings were an old chair and a wooden bed frame.

  She worked her legs around until she was on her knees, and she stood unsteadily. As she struggled against the ties around her ankles, she shuffled to the window. It was so high on the wall she could barely see out. It was for airflow, not viewing, and when she stood on tiptoe and looked, she saw only green. Tall stalks of sugarcane that surrounded the shack swayed in the breeze. The windowpanes had fallen out ages ago, and she tried shouting, but the cane muffled the sound.

  At last April heard a door open and shut, and in a moment the door to her room opened too.

  “You’re up! I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Julien said. “I brought you some food.” He placed a sack and a plastic drink cup on the floor and snipped off her wrist ties. Despite a sick feeling in her gut, she ate. Escape was her only chance for survival, and to escape she had to maintain her strength.

  She held up the wrapper. “So there’s a Burger King close by.”

  “Not close enough for you. We’re far from civilization. No one will find you here.”

  “I have to use the bathroom.”

  “It’s no dormitory restroom, I’m afraid. This place doesn’t have running water or indoor plumbing, but there’s an outhouse. I’ll take you.”

  When he picked her up and carried her through an adjoining room to the outside, his strength surprised her. It was a warm afternoon, and insects buzzed everywhere in the sea of green stalks. He stood her outside the wooden structure and opened the door. The stench was overpowering, but she had no choice.

  “Untie my feet.”

  “And let you try to escape? Don’t be silly. You can do it. Get on with your business.”

  “At least have the decency to turn around.”

  When he did, escape crossed her mind, but it was impossible. What would she do — hop through the cane fields?

  She tugged down her pants, held her nose, and squatted over the hole. She thanked God for a roll of paper tied to a nail. She emerged into the sunlight, pulled up her sweats, and said, “Where are we?”

  “A long, long way from anywhere. You could scream to high heaven and nobody’s around to hear you. It’s just acres and acres of sugarcane.”

  He left more slack in her wrist ties this time, saying, “I don’t want to hurt you. I brought you here for your own good.”

  April held her cuffed hands in the air. “Are these for my own good? Tell me how that works.”

  “She wants to kill you. If she knew you were here, she’d come to the cabin and do it.”

  “Who are you talking about? Do you mean the spirit we were talking to through the Ouija board?”

  He laughed. “She’s no spirit. I’m talking about a living person who’d as soon kill you as not.”

  She shuddered. “Who is it?”

  Julien paused a moment. “You’re not going anywhere, so I might as well tell you. I’m talking about Mother.”

  His mother? Oh God. Not only is he a raving lunatic, he claims his own mother is a killer.

  “You’re lying. How can she hurt me? She’s old.”

  “Perhaps so, but don’t underestimate her. I saved your life. Let’s leave it at that.”

  “So you saved my life. Why was that, so you can kill me yourself?”

  “I’m not what she is,” Julien snapped. “I want someone to talk to — to tell secrets to. You’ve hardly scratched the surface of Proctor Hall. You may have the psychic power, but ghosts aren’t the only things to be afraid of.”

  “I’
m not afraid of ghosts. I’m afraid of you.”

  He shook his head. “I’m on your side. Don’t you understand?”

  “Didn’t you say this has something to do with Landry? Or did I dream it after you slipped me the date-rape drug?”

  An idea came to Julien — a way to deal with April instead of killing her. Why hadn’t he considered this before? It was perfect!

  “It does in fact have something to do with him. Landry will learn firsthand about the Proctor Hall horror. I’ll explain everything — I’ll walk through the house and show him every detail.”

  “How? Are you just going to call him up and invite him over? You’re a damned kidnapper.”

  He smiled, creating his plan as they talked. “There’s going to be a trade at some point. You for him. Then I’ll have him where I want him.”

  “And if he won’t trade?”

  “For your sake, you’d better pray he will.”

  She stared at him. There was no reason to continue this dialogue when his answers made no sense. She knew one thing only — leaving her fate in this man’s hands was tantamount to giving up. She had to survive, and somehow she would.

  “I need to sleep,” she said, and he walked out. She waited until the outside door closed and she heard a low hum like a small engine. It faded and there was stillness.

  She stood, hobbled to the door, and opened it. She went through the only other room, past a rough-hewn table and two chairs standing next to a crude stone fireplace. When she found the front door unlocked, she knew he didn’t expect her to escape. Maybe he would be right, but she had to try.

  How to get off the low porch was a problem with her feet tethered. If she jumped, she could break a leg or an arm. She sat, slid on her bottom to the edge and swung her feet around. She stood and looked until she saw a break in the cane through which Julien had left.

  Without considering what she’d do if he returned, she shuffled off through the tall stalks. They were a foot taller than she, and within seconds she was trapped in a maze that enclosed her on all sides. The barely visible path she’d followed became harder to discern, and soon she realized she had made a serious error. She was lost in a field that might go on for miles. She couldn’t even get back to the cabin.

  April fell to the ground and wept.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  There was a sound — the same engine noise she’d heard at the cabin — getting closer and closer. She realized she had dozed, sat up, and wondered what to do. Should she cry out for help? What if it was Julien? Should she stay put, safe from him but without water, shelter or protection from predators of the nonhuman kind?

  April chose silence, believing he would kill her without hesitation if it suited his purposes. If a coyote dragged her into the woods, it would be no worse than the fate that awaited her.

  But it wasn’t to be. The sound of the motor grew louder and louder. Then it stopped, and she sat motionless as someone thrashed about.

  “April, where are you? You might as well speak up; you can’t escape me.”

  She sat motionless on the ground. As he moved about, she glimpsed him once, but he didn’t notice her. A moment later he pulled back the stalks, clicked off a black instrument he held, and put it in his pocket.

  GPS. He put a tracker on me somehow. That’s how he found me.

  He helped her up, untied her feet, and led her to the little Vespa scooter. He ordered her to walk ahead of him as he pushed it through the field. Back at the cabin, she took another bathroom trip, and then he secured her feet.

  “Did you enjoy your adventure?” he asked. She said nothing.

  “Escape isn’t an option. I’m not an idiot, April. It’s a waste of energy to try. Besides, I have stories for you. I want to tell you things about Proctor Hall no one else knows, things I’ve always had to keep a secret. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to it. You enjoyed my course on Louisiana culture, right? This time I’ll tell you stories that no college class will ever hear.”

  He’s not worried, she thought. Once he confides in me, I’ll never live to tell his secrets.

  “I have to confess something,” he began. “You were destined to choose Proctor Hall for your class project.”

  “How could that be?” she asked, playing along. If she learned the secrets and then escaped, she could nail this bastard.

  “Each year I assign projects, and I ensure one team picks Proctor Hall. It works out well — I lecture about the old house and its mysteries immediately prior to choosing teams. It’s fresh on everyone’s minds, someone always picks it, and I achieve what I’m after.

  “I handpicked your team — you and Andy, Michael and Marisol. I wanted to observe how you and Michael would interact with the two extroverts, and how they would deal with each other’s egos. Unfortunately, two of them are dead.”

  She looked up in surprise. “Andy’s dead? How do you know that?”

  He smiled. “That was hasty of me. I should say he will be dead.”

  Andy will be dead? She shuddered as she wondered what he meant.

  “At any rate, the four of you trespassed at Proctor Hall, as every team does. You also got into the house, thanks to Cate Adams showing up. That I did not expect, but it was fortuitous and helped propel things forward. Then we learn you’re clairvoyant — a truly unexpected pleasure — and you sensed the house’s secrets from the first time you entered. That attracted the attention of Henri Duchamp and Landry Drake, both noted ghost hunters. By this time, things were going in an extraordinarily positive direction, far better than in any previous year.”

  “What secrets are in the old house, and how do you know about them?”

  He chuckled. “All in good time. I’m as keen to reveal things as you are to learn about them. That’s why every year I’ve let teams go to Proctor Hall. It was deliciously scary to wonder if they might learn things. What if they discovered the truth about me, for instance — their old college professor who isn’t what he seems? It was exhilarating but disappointing too, because none of them thought outside the box. Until you. A clairvoyant in the house at last. I was eager to see what would happen when you put your hands on that Ouija board!”

  “So if someone discovered the secrets, would you be in trouble?”

  “Trouble doesn’t begin to describe what would happen to me. That’s why it’s so exciting. It’s like seeing how close to the precipice one can stand without falling.”

  “Sounds like you could lose everything. Doesn’t that worry you?”

  “Ah, you women. You sound just like Mother. Worry, worry, worry.”

  He mentioned his mother again. This time something clicked — an idea about how he fit into this puzzle.

  “You know Proctor Hall so well because you’re a Proctor. You’re Noah Proctor’s brother.”

  This set him off. “I most certainly am not a Proctor. How dare you say that, you impertinent shrew. Enough talk for now.” He checked the ties on her hands and feet and stormed out of the room. In a moment she heard the Vespa’s engine, loud at first, then faint. He was gone.

  With difficulty, April succeeded in getting outside again. Her intention was to look around — to see if there was anything that might help her get free. With a tracker somewhere on her person, it was fruitless to leave. He might get an alert if she left the cabin. No matter what, he’d find her when he returned. She had to think of something else.

  She hobbled around the old shack, falling now and then as she shuffled too fast, but managing at last to get around it. As she turned the last corner, she found something useful — a two-inch piece of the cabin’s tin roof that had blown off and lay in the dirt.

  She had to act fast because he could return at any time. She sat, took the piece of metal in her cuffed hands and began to cut through the plastic ties on her ankles. In moments her legs were free, and she maneuvered the piece of tin around and around in her shackled hands, but she couldn’t get it positioned.

  She tried wedging the metal b
etween two porch floorboards. Now it stuck up like a blade, and she started slicing. Soon she was free of the tethers.

  The GPS tracker had to be in her clothing somewhere, but there wasn’t time to look for it. She disrobed, taking off everything — outerwear, bra, panties, socks and shoes — and piled them on the porch, hoping the tracker would show she was still at the cabin. Stark naked, she started walking. Which direction didn’t matter, because she had no idea where she was. The goal was to get as far from here as possible, find a phone, and call for help.

  She walked for a long time and her feet bled from stepping on broken cane stalks. She looked back every so often, glad that the tall stalks closed behind her when she went through. If the tracking device really was in her clothes, Julien wouldn’t find her this time.