The Haunting of Blackburn Manor

by Blake Croft

  Linda didn’t want to talk about the accident either. Ashley had been on the phone when it happened. She didn’t want her sister to get in trouble if she wasn’t already. It’d be a great impression on their employer if Ashley was hauled into court for such a traffic violation within hours of signing her employment contract.

  “You got a call while you were away.” Linda pointed to the answering machine instead trying to distract Marisa. She had no way of being sure the call was for Marisa since the house was usually occupied by so many people, but she thought if she phrased the statement this way Marisa would lose interest in the accident.

  “Oh?” Marisa frowned at the answering machine just as she had looked at Linda as if it were an interesting insect scuttling around her shoe.

  Or silverfish in the drain, the thought came unbidden followed swiftly by the image of silverfish in the tub. She shuddered at the thought.

  Marisa played the message.

  The eerie whistling, the sudden feedback, and the gurgling noise at the very end. Linda’s hair was on end again, and she was clenching her teeth so tight, her jaw was throbbing with pain.

  “What the hell is this?” Marisa frowned.

  “I was wondering the same thing.” Linda sat down beside Marisa. “I thought it might be one of your friends, you know, prank calling or something.”

  “I’m not friends with juveniles.” Marisa rubbed her temples. “God! I feel like my skin is crawling with insects. That was so bizarre. I kind of feel like I’ve heard this before though, but not sure exactly where.”

  “I know.” Linda nodded vigorously. “I’ve got goosebumps.”

  “We have caller ID.” Marisa started jabbing buttons on the cordless. “What time did the call come?”

  “About five minutes before you came home,” Linda tucked her hair behind her ears.

  “Okay, let’s see,” Marisa frowned at the phone. “It’s a landline number. Wait, that’s weird.” She fished her phone out of her coat pocket and swiped the screen. She tapped icons, and swiped some more. “I know the number.”

  “Who is it?” Linda asked.

  “It’s from the other side of the house,” Marisa’s face mirrored Linda’s confusion. “The wing Stewart and Evelyn share. But why would Stewart send us this weird message?”

  “He wasn’t at home when the call came,” Linda’s eyes widened. “I saw him parking his car in the drive when the message was being recorded.”

  “You must be mistaken,” Marisa shook her head. “How is it possible for a call to come from a house when the person who lives there isn’t at home.”

  “Evelyn and Cindy May were home,” Linda said. “Maybe it was one of them?”

  Marisa’s brow cleared. “I doubt it, but it might be possible Cindy was trying some other number and got us instead.” She tapped a finger on the phone contemplating the situation. “Let’s go ask.” She got up, suddenly full of energy.

  “I’d rather stay here,” Linda said. She hadn’t said it, but her overriding fear was that an intruder had called from Stewart’s apartment, a tall intruder with black eyes and a scar across his nose. She still hadn’t forgotten the moving shadow in the tower window. Had Jackson found out where she was? Was he making strange calls from the Blackburn wing to lure her there?

  “Why?” Marisa was frowning again, probably judging Linda for being frail—the epitome of a poor, weak, helpless woman. “You know none of this will be easier if you don’t choose to be brave. He’s still dictating your life with fear. Why are you giving him that control?”

  Apart from the narrowed gaze and thin lipped frown, this was the most direct thing Marisa had said to her since she’d arrived; like she saw Linda, understood her and wasn’t just dismissive of her. “He’s in prison,” Linda stammered. “I… he-”

  “Is no longer the focus of your life,” Marisa said. “Where is he, New York? And he’s going to, what, fly here? Or teleport? Is he some sort of superhero I don’t know about?” Her lips twitched at the corner.

  Linda tucked her hair in agitation not finding the situation the least bit funny. “You don’t know what he’s like.”

  “They’re all the same, Linda.” Marisa held her shoulders so Linda was forced to look her in the eye. “The only difference is that he knows you are no longer alone and if he comes for you, you have a community that is standing with you. Now come on. Let’s get to the bottom of this message.”

  Linda swallowed and took a moment to consider Marisa’s words. Strength flowed from Marisa’s touch into her, and she nodded. “Okay.”

  Chapter 7

  Marisa led the way out into the main hall. She knocked decisively on Stewart’s door, two sharp knocks.

  Footsteps echoed behind the door.

  Outside, a car engine rumbled down the road. Linda rushed to the hall window to see a police cruiser slow down along the curb. Silver-haired Officer Carter sat in the front, Ashley in the back. Officer Carter stepped out and opened the door for her. Ashley vaulted out of the car, shook Officer Carter’s hand vigorously then rushed up the stairs.

  “What’s happened?” Ashley asked coming in through the door, slightly breathless. The police cruiser drove off slowly down the road towards the hills. “Why are you out here?”

  Just then, Stewart’s door swung open. Stewart stood in a casual grey shirt and yoga bottoms. He held a bowl of something mushy in his hands. His feet were bare.

  “Is everything all right?” He looked from one face to the other.

  Linda saw Evelyn in her wheelchair by the TV. A large bib covered the front of her shirt. They had interrupted her lunch.

  “We’re so sorry to disturb.” Marisa smiled. Stewart blinked. “It’s just that we got a call from your apartment a few minutes ago.”

  “What?” Stewart frowned. “I didn’t make any call.”

  “You were just parking your car when the call came,” Linda added.

  “Was there anyone else in the house that could have made the call?” Marisa asked. “Cindy maybe?”

  Stewart set the bowl down beside his mother’s wheelchair. He ran both hands through his hair so they lay artlessly disheveled on his brow. “Mom can’t move her arms to scratch her nose let alone call someone, and Cindy just left, but I can ask her tomorrow.” Stewart pressed his hand in front of his mouth thinking. “What was the message? Was it a threat? We can report it to the police, if it was.”

  He was looking directly at Linda. She felt pleasantly uncomfortable under his gaze.

  “It wasn’t a threat,” she said. “It wasn’t much of anything.”

  “You can come and listen.” Marisa pointed a thumb towards the door.

  Stewart made to follow them. Evelyn moaned, her body trembling with effort.

  “I’ll be back in a minute, Mom,” Stewart said kindly. “This is important.”

  “I can feed her, if you like,” Linda suggested.

  Stewart looked grateful.

  “You won’t mind?” Stewart asked.

  Linda shook her head.

  “Okay, great. I won’t be a minute.” He squeezed his mother’s arm and followed Marisa and Ashley to the other apartment.

  Linda tucked her hair behind her ears.

  Evelyn was staring at her, her deep blue eyes wide. Her hands were twitching something awful, more so than before. Linda picked up the bowl of pureed carrots and peas and gave her a shaky smile.

  “Hi, Evelyn,” she said. “I’m Linda. I’m the new tenant.”

  “Mmmmmmmm mm,” Evelyn moaned, trying desperately to communicate.

  Linda took a little bit of mush on the spoon and extended it towards the old woman’s mouth but she moved her head away. This was odd. Linda had only stayed behind because she thought Evelyn was hungry.

  Evelyn twisted her head down on one side, her eyes darting down to her shoulder. She did it again, and again, moaning.

  “Are you cold?” Linda asked. “Do you need a shawl?”

  Evelyn made a spitting sound. She sh
ook her head and ducked her head again.

  It was horrible to see so much life force trapped in a body that wouldn’t obey. The scratching finger slowed down, its movement deliberate— a complete opposite to the rest of her inanimate body.

  Linda held Evelyn’s shoulder to give some comfort, mimicking the strength Marisa had given her by a similar gesture. The trembling hand landed on top of Linda’s hand and the fingers began to slowly scratch along her skin.

  The nails were trimmed but managed to scrape painfully along the back of her hand. Linda tried to pull away but with a grunt Evelyn held her hand firm by placing her head on it. Her eyes were wide, and alight with mania.

  The finger scratched.

  “Please, let go!” Linda tried to pry her hand away without hurting the woman.

  Footsteps resounded from across the room. The others were coming back.

  Evelyn straightened her head. Linda snatched her throbbing hand away and held it in the other.

  “I can’t make heads or tails of it.” Stewart was shaking his head.

  Ashley looked paler than before. “It was oddly haunting.”

  “Tell me about it.” Marisa shivered. “You still don’t know who it could have been?”

  “No.” Stewart spread his hands. “Mom couldn't have done it, I wasn’t at home, and I can’t think why Cindy would call and leave such a strange message. It could be a faulty connection. It won’t be the first time the wirings snapped or something.”

  “Oh, well.” Marisa shrugged and flashed her widest smile. “Thanks for helping us out, Stew.”

  “Huh?” Stewart looked distracted. “Oh, no problem. Thanks Linda, for being here with Mom. I really appreciate it.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Linda mumbled. She shuffled past him, not looking at Evelyn who was pretending to be dosing. She wasn’t sure what was going on in Blackburn Manor, but Evelyn wasn’t as meek and helpless as she let on.

  Linda followed her sister outside to the front porch where Ashley lit a cigarette. Marisa didn’t join them.

  “The truck?” Linda asked.

  “Five days to get fixed, and it’s going to cost me. My insurance isn’t going to cover all of it,” Ashley groaned. “The weekend’s just around the corner, and the guy who can fix the engine is going out of town.”

  “There goes the shopping trip.” Linda bit her lip. “There are no cars to rent, and I don’t think the town has Uber. It seems to me that there’s a number for a cab company tapped on the fridge in the kitchen though.”

  “Not to mention an infrequent bus service.” Ashley rubbed her temples. “You wanted isolation, Lin, congratulations you got it!”

  Linda flexed her fingers. The back of her hand where Evelyn had scratched was red and formed a very weird pattern. Linda squinted at it turning her hand this way and that.

  Scratched on her skin in jagged overwritten letters was one word.

  Kill

  Chapter 8

  “Jesus Christ!” Ashley grabbed Linda’s hand and stared down at the red markings. “Who did that?”

  “Evelyn,” Linda snatched her hand back. “I think she’s crazy.”

  Ashley looked at her strangely. “If we didn’t need the jobs I’d suggest we get out of here.” She inhaled deeply on the cigarette and blew out a steady stream of smoke.

  “We’ve signed contracts, Ash,” Linda said.

  “Yeah, and they don’t cover medical,” Ashley joked. “But seriously, ask Marisa where the first aid kit is and get some ointment on that.”

  Linda went in to do just that.

  The late afternoon light from the main hall windows fell on the main staircase but it still felt encased in shadows. She avoided looking straight at the portraits, especially of the buxom lady in the middle of the row with her hard face and flinty eyes that seemed to bore in your back long after you’d rushed past.

  In the upstairs bathroom, Linda cleaned her hands vigorously, eyeing the open bathroom window.

  She soaped them twice before cleaning them again.

  The marks had faded a little but she still felt foul.

  Her face was pale and drawn in the mirror. Light began to fade outside the open bathroom window behind her, as the sun settled into its descent. Linda stared at it, unease tripping down her spine like ice cubes.

  She didn’t feel safe anymore. First the crazy neighbor Grady, next the shadow in the tower window, then the accident, the strange message, and now Evelyn Blackburn. All of that coupled with the isolation of the manor was enough to break Linda’s resolve to stick it out.

  If the truck hadn’t been in such a bad state she would have urged Ashley to leave within the hour. As it was, they were stuck here for the next few days. She felt an urge to just walk out the door, but the thought of walking miles through dark woods was terrifying.

  She dried her hands on a towel and swabbed it with Dettol soaked cotton. The smell made her nose wrinkle up in distaste.

  Finally she stepped into the tub to close the window. She latched it shut so it wouldn’t open on its own, and left the bathroom.

  The hall was empty. She glanced up at the outline for the sealed up attic door. Even the rats were quiet.

  Marisa was right. She needed to stop whining and take control of her life. Linda squared her shoulders and decided to sleep on things. She’d decide what to do in the morning.

  She took the stairs carefully. For such a large house the main hall wasn’t very well lit. A single lamp glowed sentry on the hall table below. The portraits along the wall looked darker and more brooding because of this.

  Linda climbed down slowly. The angle of the light made it look like the pictures were moving. She had to stop often and stare at a frame to make sure that the faces in it hadn’t tilted her way, that a hand hadn’t moved away from a thigh.

  She stopped in the middle and stared at the buxom lady. The face was heavy jawed and bloated, the cheeks florid as if the woman had been constantly feverish in life. There was no beauty in the pinched mouth or the flinty, narrow eyes, but the most striking part of the portrait was the left hand curved on top of a staff, the fingers crooked and hooked, the nails long and sharp like an albino spider blind and evil scuttling in the dark.

  It was unnerving.

  Linda shivered and turned from the portrait.

  When she finally reached the landing she hurried through the living room door.

  Soft murmuring voices came from the kitchen. Linda gravitated towards them like a ghost does to the living.

  The kitchen was brightly lit. Ashley was chopping tomatoes and onions at the table. Marisa stood by the stove, frying potatoes and burger patties.

  “How’s your hand?” Marisa asked. “Did you find the kit alright?”

  “Yes, thanks.” Linda sat in a chair opposite her sister. “Just a little sore.”

  “Evelyn’s worse than Grady,” Marisa flipped a patty. “I mean don’t get me wrong. Grady’s bat shit crazy, but she isn’t violent like Evelyn.”

  “Why do you think she scratched that word, though?” Linda asked.

  “Lost her marbles,” Marisa said. “The patties are done. Fries will take another minute.”

  “Thanks again for this,” Ashley grunted. “What with the crash, I completely forgot to get groceries.”

  “I’ll charge you for the meal.” Marisa joked. “You’ll find that we’re pretty generous with food here at Blackburn. You can give me a list, and I’ll ask Stewart to grab groceries when he goes to town next.”

  “That’s very nice of you.” The way Ashley said it sounded like she was still suspicious of Marisa.

  They sat down to dinner. Marisa and Ashley opened beers. Linda stuck to water.

  “I’m really sorry about the session, Linda,” Marisa initiated conversation. “It just slipped my mind after the events of this afternoon. I’m usually not this unprofessional.”

  “I was distracted too,” Linda shrugged and smiled. “We can start tomorrow morning.”

  “Firs
t thing,” she smiled. “So, Ashley,” Marisa wiped mustard from her mouth. “How did your day go? It was an unusual day for sure, but what about your first day of work?”

  “Stewart showed me the files, the records. I won’t be bored, there’s plenty to do. Anyway, I don’t think those bookkeeping tasks interest any of you.”

  “Right,” smiled Marisa. “So, tell me about this boyfriend of yours.”

  Ashley frowned and chewed furiously. She swallowed with difficulty. “Dax isn’t a man. She’s a woman. And we’re not official; just casually dating.”

  Marisa froze with her mouth open about to take a bite of her burger. Tomatoes fell out and fell splat on her plate.

  “Diane Xiang.” Linda grinned. “Dax for short.”

  Marisa looked impressed. “Good for you.”

  “What about you?” Ashley asked. “Only men in your life? Because Linda saw some chick in the hall last night.”

  “Stewart mentioned that,” Marisa gave Linda a look. It was neither reproachful, nor angry. It was hard to read and Linda found this a little frustrating as well as admirable. She wished she could mask her feelings half as well. “I didn’t have anyone over last night.”

  “But I heard you talking to someone, and then I saw them leave.” Linda flushed.

  “I was on the phone,” Marisa nodded. “That’s what you heard. I even closed the door… It’s not important, really,” she smiled. “And to answer your question, Ashley, unfortunately, yes,” Marisa sighed. “And not many great ones neither, although none of them were abusive. I just have a very low threshold for bullshit and men are nothing if not full of that.”

  They laughed at that. The mood was light around the table again, but the manor was too quiet around them. Linda could feel its oppressive silence at the fringe of their warm gathering, encroaching fingers inching closer.

  “I shouldn’t be drinking this stuff.” Ashley belched. “I’m already having nightmares.”