The Dead House

by Dawn Kurtagich

  “Possessed. Possessed like needing an exorcist, or like that crazy girl at the club? Possessed like, like—” I could feel myself panicking.

  “It’s okay, sugar. All I mean is… If I’m right, then I can’t do this ritual alone. You have to help me. You have to take me into yourself. Let me into that Dead House of yours. We have to find that door, the door Carly was taken out of. And then”—she paused, swallowed—“then we have to go through it.”

  12 pm

  I slept a little, I think. I’m not sure anymore.

  Possessed.

  I am possessed.

  The word keeps ringing around in my head like an echo bouncing off invisible walls and coming back to me. Something is inside me. Inside my head. Can that thing read these words? Can he know them from my mind before I’ve even written them down?

  Is the thing her? The dead girl? Aka Manah, the snake, the dark shape, the Olen? Are they all one and the same? A single entity, trying to invade me? Trying to confuse me?

  I feel so violated. So dirty.

  And what about this “door”? If it’s a door leading out of my mind, then where does it go? What does my mind have access to? Some dark realm I can’t remember? Right inside my head?

  Is there a chance I could slip through it, by accident, and lose myself in the process?

  Is the thing inside me getting closer? Could he bring even more vile things back with him? I’ve been reading Carly’s journal to make myself feel better. Her early entries, when things were still normal. I’ve started tearing out the pages. I’m going to stick them in here. Keep them safe.

  Torn-Out Page from the Diary of Carly Luanne Johnson

  Undated

  I think I’m half and half. HA! I just realized what I wrote! Half and half, not in the Kaitlyn sense, but in the sense that I’m two different sorts of people. Because I hate company sometimes, because I’m shy and quiet and awkward. I want to be left alone. But then when I am left alone for any length of time, I get lonely and I need to find company. That’s only been the case since Naida. She’s brought so much life into my life. How funny. I just read that back. The only downer to needing company is, well, Brett. He’s just always around. And I just want to spend time with Naida. I don’t even mind Scott, because he makes her happy and he makes me laugh, but Brett is always here… always just a little too close.

  89

  9 days until the incident

  Naida Camera Footage

  Monday, 24 January 2005, 11:00 PM

  Naida’s Dorm Room

  Naida positions the camera in its customary place on her desk, then she sits on her bed facing it. Her hands are shaking.

  “Something keeps telling me to call Haji.” She wrings her hands, but they still shake. “I want to. I want to hand this over to him and let him take control. But he’ll try to stop me. And I’m so scared I might even let him.”

  She covers her face, and when she pulls back her hands, her cheeks are wet with tears.

  “If I fail, I could lose them all,” she whispers, her eyes wide with panic. “I could lose Carly forever, and Kaitlyn, and Ari and Brett and Scott—there are five lives in my hands! What if it goes wrong? What if the Shyan is too strong, what if I’m not good enough—Oh, Gorro, Mother Karrah! Bring me to the light and hold me in your hand.”

  Naida inhales deeply, then exhales and wipes her face. She is still shaking, but she balls her hands into fists.

  She reaches forward and switches off the camera.

  [END OF CLIP]

  Naida Camera Footage

  Monday, 24 January 2005, 11:26 PM

  Basement

  “You’ll open your eyes. You’ll be in a—” Naida breaks off and glances at Kaitlyn, who is sitting beside her. Scott and Brett are nearby, while John and Ari are hugging the walls. The room, normally lit by the unreliable bare bulb above them, is illuminated by the dancing flames of six black candles.

  “It’s a house,” Kaitlyn says. “It’ll be a room. You’ll be in a room.”

  “Right. I want you to check every single room of that house. Look for some kind of doorway. You’ll sense that it doesn’t belong. I’m not sure how—maybe it’ll look out of place, maybe you’ll just know it doesn’t feel right.”

  “This is mental,” Scott mutters under his breath. Naida looks pointedly at him, but then her expression softens and she takes his hand.

  “Everything’s going to be okay. Once we find that door, you call me. Don’t go through it. We don’t know exactly where it leads—maybe some kind of other world—but we think Carly was taken out that way. If you see it, yell like there’s no tomorrow. I’ll come quick as lightning, and that’ll be it for you.”

  Scott leans forward. “What about you?”

  She swallows and glances at Kaitlyn. “We have to go through the doorway. We have to find Carly.”

  Brett, who has been sitting silently up to this point, blows air through his lips. “You’re asking us to believe something… huge.”

  “It’s real,” Kaitlyn says. “Brett, it’s real. I need your help.”

  He stares at her for a moment and then smiles, the crystal blue of his eyes melting into something warmer as he looks at her.

  She smiles uncertainly and looks toward Ari, who is watching the display impassively.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” John says. He steps away from the wall and crosses his arms.

  Kaitlyn looks at him and then into her lap.

  “That’s okay,” Naida says. “We need a lookout. You stay behind and make sure no one comes down here.”

  He looks at Kaitlyn for a full ten seconds before he nods assent.

  “Well, I’m coming,” Ari says, and he walks over to Kaitlyn and sits beside her. He takes her hand and rubs it between his own. “What do we have to do to… uh… get there?”

  Now it’s Naida’s turn to look uncomfortable. She steels herself, then removes the cover from a box that has been sitting to her left. It is a wire mesh cage, and within it slumbers a plump black rooster.

  Scott’s eyes widen, and he turns slowly to Naida. “You’re not… babe—”

  “I have to…”

  He shakes his head, raising his voice. “No, no—”

  “I don’t want to… but…”

  “What are you talking about?” John asks.

  Scott gets to his feet. “I’m not going to let you pull some Mala bullshit, okay? You told me it was dangerous!”

  “This is the only way!” Naida yells again. “I’ll do anything to get my friend back, do you understand? Anything!”

  Her voice rings around the room and then distills into a low hum before dissipating into nothingness.

  Scott frowns. “What happened to you?” He rubs his eyes and then goes to kneel before Naida. His voice is low. “Naddie, please. You can’t kill something. You can’t. However this works, you can’t take something’s life away—it would change you. Please, babe. There has to be another way.”

  There is a small silence before Kaitlyn shifts. “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” she says softly. “Or any creature. I just want my sister back.”

  “It has to be a sacrifice,” Naida says. “A trade.”

  “Okay, fine. We’ll all give something.” Scott pulls out a necklace from behind his T-shirt, removes it, and kisses it. “Here.”

  “Your Saint Peter…” Naida whispers. Scott puts it in her fingers. “But your grandmother gave it to you before she died.”

  He shrugs. “Sacrifice.”

  Naida’s face crumples as she looks down at it in her hand.

  “I don’t have anything on me,” Brett says.

  Scott looks up at him and there is a hint of a smile on his face. “Hair. That perfect blond hair. Cut some of it off.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, it’s perfect,” Scott says. “Something beautiful that you care way too much about.”

  Brett folds his arms and stares at the wall. Scott rolls his eyes and looks at the others.
“Well?”

  By the time everyone has finished, Brett is missing some hair from the left side of his head, Naida’s necklace is gone from around her neck, Kaitlyn’s anklet is gone from her ankle, and all the items, including Scott’s Saint Peter, are held carefully in Ari’s round bowler hat.

  Naida glances at the rooster. “Now what the hell am I supposed to do with it? I can’t exactly sneak it back into my cousin’s garden.”

  “Roast it later,” Brett says, grinning.

  Scott snorts. “I’m not eating that thing. We can take it back later. I’ll go with you, Naids, okay?”

  She nods at him, seems relieved. “Okay.”

  [END OF CLIP]

  Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson

  Tuesday, 25 January 2005, early morning

  Basement

  There was time to turn back, Dee. There was so much time.

  Naida knelt before a bowl surrounded by seven black candles, whose wax dribbled onto the concrete like some kind of awful premonition. To her left sat the caged rooster, and to her right, a thick book with ancient, curling pages. In her hand she held the knife—the knife that she had planned to cut the bird’s neck with. Scott and Brett sat on either side of her, protectors. Ari sat beside me—my rock.

  John refused to come.

  I suppose I understand.

  There was so much time to turn back. But none of us did. Nobody stopped Naida as she began the ritual, setting the items—and Ari’s hat—aflame.

  The house crashed down on top of us, as if it had known we were coming. It was more broken than I remember, more rotten, more alive. A brutal, enraged storm was brewing inside, and low clouds hung over the ceiling, threatening rain.

  “Blimey,” said Scott, stumbling backwards. “It’s real.”

  His voice echoed through the house and came back at us with more force.

  Brett looked too stunned to move. “It stinks,” he managed.

  Ari just peered around, his beautiful mouth open in surprise.

  “This is your mind?” he said.

  I felt humiliation wash over me.

  This was my mind.

  “Split up,” Naida said.

  “Find the door,” Naida said.

  “We’ll go in pairs,” Naida said.

  God, Dee. I can’t do this—

  I need them to tell me what’s happening. I can’t keep waiting like this.

  Brett went upstairs, and Scott followed a moment later to find the attic. Ari went to find the basement. Naida and I stood alone once they had gone, her staring at the reality around her, and me taking her reaction in.

  “You weren’t kidding, were you?” she said at last, and the clouds that churned above us seemed to roar with laughter.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I muttered, heading down the ground-level corridor.

  Dee, we looked. The house was just playing with us. The corridor elongated, bent, and twisted until we were walking in circles. We passed an empty picture frame on the left wall, broken down the middle, and later, the same frame was on the right wall. Then it was under our feet and we were walking along the walls themselves.

  The clouds broke open with a roar, and rain spat down on and around us, hot, then cold, then sticky, then slimy.

  We trudged through it all, and only ended up back where we started.

  “I suppose this is the part where the walls start raining blood?” Naida said drily.

  I walked over to the wall and placed my hand upon it. Where I touched, the wall was dry. The floor beneath our feet grew soft, like wet earth, and we began to sink into the wood.

  THE HOUSE IS MINE.

  I gasped, and stared at Naida. “Did you hear it?”

  Her lips tightened, and I thought I saw a flash of anger in her eyes. Maybe she was about to say something. Maybe I was about to say something. Maybe I was going to make a suggestion. Maybe I was going to suggest we leave, quit, give up.

  That’s when I saw the dead girl, up on the banister behind Naida—she was pointing at us with her mouth wide open, her teeth cracked and jagged. She was all silent screams. And where she pointed, behind me, I felt the House shift. I saw Naida react to whatever was behind me… I saw her mouth open in horror… I saw the snake reflected in her eyes. I turned. Out of the sinking wooden floor reared a giant snake—the green viper—mouth open, ready to strike down on me. I couldn’t move, I was stuck in the quickwood of the floor. But then I felt movement. Naida, running, right at the snake, directly in the path of its yawning mouth. Naida, running to put herself in front of me. Directly in the path of those brilliant white teeth.

  Naida Camera Footage

  Tuesday, 25 January 2005, 12:25 AM

  Basement

  The camera clicks on at the same moment that Kaitlyn reaches forward with her right hand across the bowl that is now charred and smoking, her terrible cry—“Naida!”—ringing through the room. The others jolt into awareness and look around with foggy expressions.

  Naida sits with her mouth frozen open, her eyes huge in her face. Her eyes rotate towards Kaitlyn, and her expression is one of grief and horror.

  “Kaitie,” she whispers, before her expression hardens and she reaches for the knife beside Ari’s bowler hat, grips her tongue between her left fingers, and with a violent, sickening motion, saws off her tongue.

  She flings it across the room, where it lands with a soft slap, and then she falls to the floor, twitching.

  Chaos erupts.

  Scott is the first to reach her, pulling her into his arms. “Call an ambulance!” Spurts of blood jump from her mouth, and she gurgles.

  Ari stares at her, seemingly unable to move. Brett grabs his own hair and yells, “Shit! Shit! Shit!” It is John, standing guard by the door, who runs up the stairs.

  “What should I do?” Scott yells. “What the fuck should I do?”

  Ari blinks, shuts his mouth, and hurries over to them.

  “Flip her over,” he instructs. “She’s choking on her blood.”

  Scott turns the seizing Naida over, and the blood pumps from her mouth in spurts.

  Ari grabs the cloth that lies near the chicken cage. “Shove this in her mouth. Hard!”

  “She’s bleeding to death!” Kaitlyn cries. She stands near the armoire, arms folded over her chest. She looks more like Carly than ever. “She saved me… she saved me…”

  John returns. “They’re coming. They said to stuff her mouth with cotton, but I couldn’t find any.”

  “Help me get her up the stairs,” Ari says, starting to haul Naida up.

  “Don’t move her!” John yells.

  Scott, crying, begins to help Ari lift her, then pauses, looking at John.

  “We can’t have them down here,” Ari says firmly. “Now, help me.”

  John swears, then runs forward, lifting Naida into his arms. He runs up the stairs with her, and Scott follows.

  Ari turns to Kaitlyn. “I’m sorry,” he says, and then he shoves her backwards three sharp times. “You can’t be seen!”

  “Ari—”

  With a final shove, she falls back against the armoire. Ari pulls open the door and pushes her inside.

  “Stay there,” he snaps, then slams the door and locks it.

  He runs out of the room, leaving behind a noisy wardrobe, rocking back and forth, shaking as Kaitlyn screams.

  [END OF CLIP]

  I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.

  —Edgar Allan Poe

  Because I could not stop for Death—

  He kindly stopped for me—

  The Carriage held but just Ourselves—

  And Immortality.

  —Emily Dickinson

  90

  On 25 January 2005, at 1:46 AM, Naida Chounan-Dupré was admitted to Musgrove Park Hospital with severe blood loss, shock, and a severed tongue. She entered the operating room at 2:05 AM and was transfused with five units of blood, type AB positive. Coma was induced for three days. The use of her tongue was permane
ntly lost.

  The following diary entries are smudged with blood in various places. It is presumed to be from Kaitlyn’s wounds, reopened while breaking out of the wardrobe Ari Hait locked her in before rushing Naida Chounan-Dupré to the hospital.

  Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson

  Tuesday, 25 January 2005, 2:24 am

  Basement

  Her tongue is still on the floor. They left it behind.

  2:36

  Torn between fury and fear. Want to hunt down the Shyan and slit his throat. Want to throw myself blindly into the Dead House and will my way to the gateway. I don’t even know what to look for.

  Terrified to try.

  Someone took the chicken.

  Lost them. Lost Carly. Now Naida too. I keep hurting the people around me.

  He probably saved me, Dee.

  Yes, I know he locked us in a cupboard.

  Yes, I know that too.

  But if he hadn’t, I’d be back in Claydon, wouldn’t I? Probably in isolation on the high-security ward. Maybe even prison. Can they arrest you for breaking out of the hospital? And that’s without what they’re saying about Juliet…

  I would never hurt anyone.

  Besides, they would have found a way to blame me for Naida too. And I couldn’t live with any more of their accusations and lies. Still… when he pushed me in like that and locked the door… when I realized he was going to leave me in there while he got Naida to the hospital with the others… I’ll admit to a certain… annoyance.

  But he was protecting me. Protecting us.

  Protecting the thing inside me too.

  3:12 am

  I need news.

  What’s happening?

  Is Naida okay?

  I can’t believe what I saw… what she did. What it did. She saved me. She saved me. She sacrificed her voice for me. How can I ever repay that? She’s a saint.