by Blake Croft
A great red welt bloomed across her cheek. Blood trickled from her slack mouth, but it was her hand that caught their eyes. The only limb she had been in control of was twisted at a painful angle, clearly broken.
“I’ll call the paramedics,” Scott said. “God, that sick bastard. His own mother. Everyone else out!” He motioned them out of the manor.
They all complied.
Scott went to the front of the house from the gallery porch, his phone to his ear.
Grady opened up the passage on banshee lore and began to read.
“I think Tara’s influence is increasing.” Linda said. "She must have unlocked the door for me. I’ve felt her pushing and shoving me before.”
“You are right about the influence increasing,” Grady said, pushing her lower lip out as she scanned the page. “You’re wrong about it being Tara.”
Ashley leaned forward, her eyes clear and curious. Her face was still pasty but it wasn't listless and wan. She listened with rapt attention.
“What?” Linda was surprised. “You heard Stewart. Tara is driving this.”
“You misunderstand me,” Grady said. “Tara originated the ghostly manifestation, yes, but it would be wrong to think the influence on this house is her. The evil presence has metamorphic qualities and was formed out of Tara’s death. The evil was always here. It just gained traction through Tara’s rage. Whatever it is, isn’t Tara anymore. None of that girl's goodness is in this, only the worst aspects of rage and jealousy.”
Ashley licked her lips. Linda chewed her lower lip. What Grady said made sense. Her own dreams and visions had been torn and confusing, as if the messages were distorted and they had never been about Tara or Shannon only, but a mix of things.
“Yes, I need it ASAP.” Scott strode around the porch, a first aid kit in his hand. “And come in fast.”
He went inside the apartment. Linda stood at the door frame and watched him open the kit in front of him. She could feel her own body shutting down slowly. Sleep was always at the edge of her eyes. She needed to finish this now if she had any chance of surviving.
She entered the apartment.
“Hey! I told you to stay out.” Scott said.
“You need help,” Linda said briskly. She began to clean up a cut on Evelyn’s chin. “If you don’t do this fast, the city police will be here before you even make it to the basement landing.”
Scott saw the sense in that.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps stomped overhead.
Linda and Scott stopped what they were doing. They stared at each other. Scott removed his gun and angled himself slowly towards the stairs.
Another crash and bang.
Footsteps, slow and measured came down the stairs.
Scott cocked his gun.
Linda gasped. “Scott, no!”
It was Grady. She was huffing down the stairs the heavy book stuffed under one hand. Ashley was close behind her.
“What in heaven’s name is wrong with you?” Scott bellowed. “I could have shot you! I told you to stay out. I can arrest you for tampering with a crime scene!”
“I just needed to check something,” Grady said. “I was wrong, so it doesn’t matter.”
Ashley swayed on her feet. She looked more exhausted than Linda felt.
Linda wished they could have left the Manor as soon as Stewart had been injured, but that was no longer an option; the incident at the motel last night had proven that. There had been no chance of avoiding this situation; not since the moment they stepped across the threshold five days ago. It would always have ended like this. The door only opening for her? It was a sign. Tara wanted Linda in the house and would have made sure she never left.
And even if Linda ran, she didn’t think she’d escape it. Marisa didn’t; neither did Colin Prim. All Linda could hope for was making it long enough so the curse ended with her.
“Scott,” she said. “It’s okay. Grady can wheel Evelyn out onto the porch and patch her up. We need to do this fast before the police arrive. Let’s go,” she motioned to Scott.
He looked reluctant but saw the merit in her words. He followed her into the kitchen.
Linda grabbed the tools from the porch, and joined Scott by the basement door. She beckoned Ashley and Grady to wheel Evelyn out then turned her attention back to the task at hand.
She stood a moment before the basement door, preparing herself for what waited inside. “I really don’t want to go in there,” she confessed to Scott. “But I will.”
“I’ll be by your side, okay?” Scott said. “Besides, it’s only the dark.”
“You still don’t believe there are supernatural forces at work here.” It wasn’t a question. Linda was stating a fact.
“Nope,” Scott hefted the crowbar and shovel, leaving her with the trowel. His boyish grin made him look years younger.
“I guess that’s a good thing.” Linda smiled. “Your skepticism might just be what we need.”
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door she knew would only open for her.
A large block of endless black met them, hazy tendrils of it seemed to be radiating out of the door frame.
Sighing deeply, Linda set her shoulders.
“God, have mercy.”
She stepped down into the dark.
Chapter 37
The first step was the hardest.
Scott had charged ahead, taking the lead. His flashlight illuminated the viscous dark with a beam of light. Even with his strong shoulders ahead of her, she wanted to flee. She steeled herself and followed him. At least, she wasn’t alone.
“The light switch is half way down,” Linda whispered. She didn’t know why, but speaking in normal tones in that prickly silence felt like a bad idea.
Scott scanned the wall with his flashlight. It started to rain outside. The heavy drops sounded like dirt on a wooden coffin. Scott found the switch and flipped it on.
Bright light flooded the darkness.
As if sensing them in its guts, the manor groaned as if the whirling wind was uprooting it right from its foundations. Linda screamed and nearly knocked Scott over the banister.
“What happened?” Scott clutched her shoulder.
“I thought I saw someone at the bottom of the stairs,” Linda stammered. “A shadow.”
Not just any shadow, the shadow she had seen push Marisa down the stairs.
“There’s nothing there,” Scott said.
Linda didn’t answer. The only time Linda had seen the shadow was before something terrible was about to happen. What was going to happen now? Part of her wanted to turn tail and run, but the other part knew that the entity was getting under her skin.
The cold intensified as they went lower. Scott shivered beside her as they reached the landing.
Linda looked back up the stairs, at the rectangle of light that was a symbol of freedom. Grady and Ashley were framed in it, looking down at her. They had crept back into the house without her noticing. Grady pressed a finger against her lips, asking for Linda’s silence. Linda nodded and turned her attention to Scott.
“It’s under the stairs,” Linda said, touching Scott’s arm.
He followed her to the side of the stairs. The layout was much like the basement in the other apartment though wider. Linda looked down at the dirt around her feet. Maggots writhed in the piles of dirt. Spiders scuttled across the walls. She shuddered, and pulled her arms closer around herself to ward off the cold.
“Why is it so cold?” Scott’s teeth chattered. “It’s summer.”
“You tell me,” Linda murmured. “You’re the one who doesn’t believe.”
She waded through the dirt and reached the hollow under the stairs. It was a large space covered with an oil tarp. The tarp had been hastily nailed to the base of the stairs. Scott flicked it aside with his good hand and whistled.
“The wall’s been torn down,” he said. “Look.”
He pulled at the tarp so a few nails dislodged and pinged against the floor.
The whole thing hung by a single nail, draped to one side of the wall. The rest was revealed to be a small crevice under the stairs.
The exposed brick wall had been busted in the middle to make an uneven opening that a tall man could enter by stooping down. Beyond the wall were torn wooden slats. Pieces of brick and wood littered the crevice both inside and out.
The hole was a yawning mouth, beckoning Linda to enter. She felt the pull like a cold hook lodged in her gut. Goosebumps broke out painfully all over her arms. She desperately wanted to look away, to run back up the stairs but she was ensnared by the darkness and what it held within.
Scott flashed a strong beam into the hole.
The light shone off the dark dirt walls that glistened with buried minerals and parted to make way for anyone willing to pass through. Linda could hear the same sound of slowly moving air within that she had heard in the mines.
“The secret tunnel,” Linda whispered.
Scott stepped inside.
Linda followed.
“Hey, we didn’t need so many tools,” he said. “There are several shovels here, and a wheelbarrow too. They must have been part of the distillery.”
“It might even be tools of the miners,” Linda said. She pointed at the bloom of green and bronze rust on the metal. “Grady would have a better clue.” She glanced back at the room. “Maybe we should call her in?”
A thundering crash made them whirl around to face the basement.
The sound of a door creaking open reached them. It was muffled but unmistakable.
Scott stared at Linda. “I thought I told them to get out with Evelyn?”
“I’ll go see what’s up.”
Linda picked her way carefully through the rubble. Grady should know better than to make so much noise. Maybe she had fallen and hurt herself? Thought Linda.
A loud bang made her jump, heart thudding a mile a minute in her ear drums.
She ran pell-mell to the base of the stairs.
The sound of the storm was a muted whistle, like a kettle sounds just before it screams.
Mrs. Grady hadn’t fallen down the stairs like Linda had feared, nor had Ashley.
The book on Irish legends lay at the bottom step, torn in places; the spine completely broken.
“You guys need to leave now,” Scott warned, poking his head from the hole under the stairs.
Grady was standing in the middle of the stairs but Ashley had progressed beyond the second step from the top. She was looking down at her feet, but her eyes were unfocused. Her lips were curled into a grimace.
“I came to warn you. You need to hurry,” Grady warned. “It doesn’t need you to sleep anymore. It’s got Ash-”
Ashley screamed and lunged at Grady. She wrapped her hands around Grady’s neck, squeezing the life out of her. Grady was turning blue, but she kept protecting the urn with both hands, and made no effort to dislodge Ashley’s hands.
“Ashley!” Linda cried, vaulting up the stairs.
Ashley’s head snapped up. Linda stopped in her tracks.
Malevolence and utter hatred was etched in every line of Ashley’s face. She licked her lips slowly, like a hungry cat savoring the thought of eating a nest of birds. Linda felt the oppressive influence of Tara; she felt her own resolve crack and fear seep in the folds.
How had she been so blind?
She had been so convinced that the monstrosity was focused on her that she had ignored the signs with Ashley. Marisa had been the same, tired, fatigued, and ill before every possession. And the frenzy of violence against Stewart: that had been the manifestation as well.
“Let her go, Tara.” Linda said with as much authority as she could muster.
Ashley laughed. Grady spluttered and choked.
Then with an all mighty cry, Ashley shoved Grady down the stairs. The old woman’s body struck the stairs at an angle. The sound of bones breaking cracked in the silent basement.
Linda screamed.
Scott scrambled across the debris ridden basement floor.
Grady lay sprawled at the foot of the stairs.
She wasn’t moving.
Chapter 38
“What the hell?” Scott cried from under the stairs. He came sprinting to the base of the stairs, nearly tripping on scattered rocks. “What’s going on?”
“I’m fine,” Grady wheezed. She tried to lift herself up but winced and gave up.
Linda came forward to help. “What happened?”
“I suspected Ashley was under the influence of that thing,” Grady hissed against the pain. “Then Evelyn’s wheelchair got stuck… in the kitchen and… none of the doors would open… only the basement door opened and… Oh God, I’ve broken a rib.” She wheezed and allowed herself to be propped against the wall.
“Come down with your hands behind your head,” Scott was inching towards the stairs, one hand on the butt of his gun.
“No!” Linda cried. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
“She just pushed Grady down the stairs!” Scott snapped.
“She’s being possessed,” Grady said.
Ashley laughed on the stairs, clearly enjoying the bickering she had caused.
“Let her go.” Linda walked towards the stairs. Scott tried to stop her but she pushed him away. “You won’t pull a gun on my sister, so help me God.” She turned back to Ashley. “Hey, Ash. I know you’re listening. I’m sorry I brought you here. This whole mess is my fault. I should never have dragged you all the way here.”
The manic grin on Ashley’s face eased a little. Her eyes lost the glint of steel.
“We’ll leave,” Linda went on. “Right now. You don’t have to stop this monstrous ghost. We just need to get you away from here. I promise, you can wait for us outside, with the paramedics that are coming. Just fight back.”
She knew there was no truth in her words. There was no way they could leave, but if lying was the only means to give Ashley some hope she was willing to lie through her teeth to get her sister back.
Color returned to Ashley’s face. She looked confused as if she had woken from a long strange dream and was disoriented. Hope bloomed in Linda. She would get Ashley back, and then they would leave.
“Linda?” Ashley’s face crumpled into tears. “I’m so confused. What’s happening to me?”
“Nothing.” Linda put her foot on the first step. “You’re fine now.”
She climbed the stairs, and took Ashley’s hand. She guided her sister slowly up the stairs. She heard a muffled sound coming from the kitchen. Slowly, the kitchen came into view. Ashley’s hand was cold and still in hers.
They had just reached the door when Linda saw Evelyn on the back porch through the back door. Her eyes were wide with fear. The back door slammed and a rack of knives was upturned, and shaking. A handful of cooking utensils came zooming across the kitchen towards them.
“Look out!” Linda cried and shoved Ashley aside. “Aaah!” A knife point lodged itself in her arm.
She stumbled down a step. Knives and forks clattered on the stairs.
The basement door slammed shut. The light flickered, plunging them into sudden darkness and light.
Linda heard the groaning of heavy furniture flying across the kitchen and slamming against the basement door.
Not only were they locked in, now there was no means of escape.
“No,” Linda moaned. She stumbled down the stairs, hope completely abandoning her.
“Linda!” Grady called up. “Come down. We’re stuck.”
The knives and forks shuffled beneath her, rolling down the stairs. She lost her footing, and went crashing down.
A grey shadow rose behind Ashley, tall and mighty.
“No!” Linda screamed, heart in throat, her guts twisting painfully. She came to a stop on the landing.
She looked up. Miraculously, Ashley had escaped harm. “Ashley, watch out!”
The shadow rose high and swung down, landing hard on Ashley’s bewildered head.
But as
she watched, Ashley’s eyes rolled back. Her body went limp, and she keeled over. She would have hit her head on the stairs if Linda hadn’t reached her in time.
She was a dead weight in Linda’s arms, porcelain white, and just as cold.
Chapter 39
“Ashley, wake up.” Linda slapped her sister’s face hard. Her arm throbbed with pain and warm blood ran slick down to her wrist but she didn’t care. “Wake up!”
“Stop that, Linda,” Grady hissed. “You know she won’t respond. You’ve read the book. You know about false corpses. It’s what happened to the girl in the Irish village, it’s what happened to Marisa that first night.”
Linda was breathing hard. Her hands were shaking, but she kept slapping Ashley to make her wake. Sobs were choking her throat. How could she have let this happen to Ashley?
Scott resembled the color of curdled milk. He walked up to Linda, and touched her injured arm gingerly. The gash wasn’t deep but there was too much blood. “What just happened? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I have.” Linda winced as Scott brought out a handkerchief and tied it around the wound in her arm, staunching the flow of blood. “I’ve seen too much in this house. And now Ashley… I could have prevented this if I’d only been brave enough to end this sooner.”
“You still can,” Grady moaned. “There is very little time. You have to destroy the receptacle before this Thing gains full strength! If you don’t, Ashley will die. Like Marisa.”
Little time…
Linda thought back to the night Marisa fell, how she had been in a semi-dream state when hearing the recordings with Scott, and the one message that kept recurring in that state.
The soil is nourishing. We should put Marisa in the earth.
The priest wanted to bury the girl…
Linda sat up straighter. “The book mentioned resurrecting burials,” she said to no one in particular. “That’s what we have to do. We have to bury Ashley, but…” Linda bit her lip as uncertainty rocked her. “It will work won’t it, Grady?”
