The Secrets of Oakley House

by S. A. Robinson

  Nothing prepared her for what she would see at the bottom of the steps. Mariah turned to see her mom, the Priest, and the Nun all standing at the base of the stairs too shocked to move. The Priest making the sign of the cross as he looked at Mariah. Taking in the scene, Mariah had no choice but to accept that some teenagers were messing with her. She needed a security system installed.

  The floor of the basement, being dirt was easy to mess with. Throughout the basement the words “HELP ME” were written into the dirt hundreds of times. Mariah froze, anger welling up inside her at the poor timing of whatever kid broke into her house this time.

  The mask was sitting directly in the middle of the room and what looked like blood as well. Mariah shook her head, trying to think of how she could explain this away. Nothing came to mind except the truth.

  “There have been some teenagers from town that have been breaking in. I promise that is all this is. That must be ketchup or fake costume blood,” Mariah said.

  Her mom looked at her, and must have known she was lying, because she shook her head and turned around facing away from the group.

  With her mother and the others watching closely, Mariah walked through the room and used her foot to erase as much of the writing as she could. They must be expecting a ghost to jump out and eat me, she thought, judging by the terrified looks on their faces.

  The priest at some point had taken out a notebook and was writing vigorously in it. No doubt about how the house needed more than an exorcism.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Late 1700s |Town of Oakwood

  Sophia continued caring for Timothy, though he too seemed to be getting increasingly ill. She insisted he was just malnourished, but Oliver ignored her thoughts by bringing countless doctors to the house to check the child. With each doctor came a new diagnosis and a new type of treatment. The young boy was deemed to be anemic by one and mentally ill by another. Oliver, fearing Timothy would eventually meet the same fate as Christopher, sought to fill the void that would no doubt form in his wife.

  He doted on her every chance he got, soon forgetting his daughter was still with them, living in the attic. Sophia sent food up the elevator shaft three times a day but Olivette was rarely seen. No one knew that while the others lived on in the Oakley house, Olivette grew sick alone in the attic with no one there to check on her. It seemed she had caught whatever ailment had killed Christopher and now plagued Timothy.

  The doting and extra attention that Oliver gave to Sophia paid off and, to both of their surprise, she was soon expecting a child. She passed cooking off to a servant while she spent countless hours in bed hoping for the baby to arrive healthily.

  Timothy began to thrive after a few days and felt so much better that he begged Oliver to play outside with him. He was so young and so full of energy. Oliver, however, was not as young as he had once been and was little equipped to run around with a small child. He had a heart attack on the front lawn, while Timothy looked on in horror.

  A gardener was able to save Oliver. He beat him on the chest until he seemed to breathe somewhat normally again. Oliver was taken to one of the spare rooms in the house, and everything was cleared out except for the bed. Sophia ordered the bed to be covered in black curtains, so Oliver had a dark, calm and quiet place to recover. Sophia resumed her full-time care of Timothy and now Oliver, who was told to stay in the bed by every doctor that came.

  Sophia, feeling the need to inform Olivette of her father’s declining health, walked the flights of steps to the attic. The strain from the hike to the top floor did little good, as she soon gave birth to twin boys, four months too soon. Sophia named them Michael and Samuel. They were buried with Christopher in the woods where their deaths would not lurk too close to the house, but still close enough to visit should she feel inclined.

  Olivette was blamed for the loss of the twins, her seclusion in the attic being the only reason Sophia had gone up the steep staircase. Oliver was too ill to do much of anything in support of Olivette. Sophia had all entrances to the attic stairs sealed off, with the only access being the servant’s stairs coming up from the basement. The House’s main staircase did not have a lead up to the attic any longer. Sophia had decided that should Olivette want to come out of the room, she could climb the dark stairwell down to the basement, and then climb up to the household like a servant. The food, however, was still sent up to the girl by Sophia, who strictly prepared all the household food.

  Olivette had all but been forgotten, sealed away as though she was a secret no one should know of. Soon after sealing the attic, Sophia locked the room to the dolls one last time as she now had little use for that room.

  Timothy took ill again soon after Olivette was locked away. Oliver’s health continued to decline and Olivette grew sicker and sicker alone in her attic prison. She would come out in the middle of the nights, climbing down the dark steps, her feet scratching along the steps as she went. She would spend time sitting on the floor in the cool basement and she would draw her fathers’ initials and her own, over and over. Olivette would often wonder the grounds at night, in secret. She would be back in her room by morning, the household staff and family members clueless to her evening escapades.

  One evening, Sophia heard Olivette leave the attic. She prepared Olivette a bowl of soup and waited in the basement to see the girl face to face for the first time in months. Olivette was gracious, she had felt so sick for so long, she confided to Sophia that she was dying of grief. Sophia sat in the dark while Olivette removed her mask and ate one spoon full of soup after the other, then she went silently back to the attic.

  Olivette wasn’t sure what had gotten into Sophia. Maybe they were beginning to rebuild the love they once had for each other? Why else would she bring her soup in person? Olivette was so lost in thought on her way back to her room, she didn’t even realize that her mask lay forgotten on the basement floor.

  Sophia had taken the mask. At long last she would be able to lock the thing up as she had wanted to do for so long.

  Oliver would not need anything else until morning. Sophia set a bowl of soup aside for him just in case he awoke early, and went to the office. With Oliver’s death lurking, Sophia wrote to his younger half-brother of the impending death and summoned him to Oakley House to help with the estate matters. After all, women had little rights when it came to those issues.

  As Abel Monet made his way to Oakley House, so did the rumors of the Mayor’s impending death and the sick children that Sophia cared for in the big house all on her own. Visitors came and went, staying only for short visits out of fear of whatever sickness was within the home. Sophia soaked in every moment of the attention. She received flowers and candies, meals and wine. Gifts and kindness poured into the Oakley house, leaving Sophia in a very euphoric state of mind. She began turning away doctors that were seeking to help. She was adamant that she alone could help her family recover from the sickness that overtook the house.

  She was so sure she could be the savior of the home, she even sent away the priest that had come to give Oliver his last rights before he passed. Her bravery and determination continued to earn her praise and attention from the townspeople. Though by turning away the priest, she would soon begin to turn the favor of the townspeople against her. She was, after all, denying Oliver of his chance at peace after death.

  Olivette remained forgotten in the attic, whether people had forgotten she existed, or they assumed she was off at school she didn’t know. Sophia and her father were to blame for her loneliness. She was ill, yet received no care, no doctors came to look at her, no flowers came to fill her room with joy and the sweet smell of happiness. Olivette steeped in her rage while steadily declining just as Timothy and her father.

  Sophia was as healthy as she could be.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Mariah shuffled the small group of people back up to the kitchen, aware that she was now going to have to convince them that it was teenagers that were causing problems. Her mothe
r in the lead, then the priest and the nun bringing up the rear, they climbed the steps unbearably slow.

  “I know what is going on here. You have a horrible spirit residing in this house. We need to cleanse this house and soon,” the Nun stated boldly. Mariah turned to look back at her, annoyance painted clearly on her face.

  “Ma’am, would you mind turning the light off, since you are the last one coming up?” Mariah asked, wishing she knew the name of the nun. Ma’am felt too formal, though if she knew her name, she would be less likely to be so polite. This lady was sticking her nose into the wrong business, and she needed to go.

  The nun nodded her head and turned to walk back down a few steps as the others continued up. As each person filtered back to the kitchen one at a time, everyone heard what can only be described as terror.

  A tremendous crashing sound, a blood-curdling scream, horrible gagging and then silence. The priest, now white as a ghost, took off for the steps he had only just left, missing the first and sliding on his butt down half of them before catching his footing and jumping the remainder of the stairs. Mariah followed closely behind.

  The scene that awaited at the bottom of the dark stairs was far from normal. The nun, lay just a foot away from the last step on the dirt floor, blood pooling around her head and spilling from her mouth. An old, rusty spoon, that looked to be as old as the house, was protruding from the dirt floor. From the look of the scene, the nun had fallen and been impaled through the neck by the spoon, no doubt crushing her windpipe and killing her from suffocation and blood loss. There was so much blood.

  Mariah, shock taking over, turned to examine the rest of the dark room. Maybe she was already too far gone, maybe she was seeing things, but there in the far corner of the basement near the stairs to the attic she saw a flash of a woman. She turned from the scene and disappeared. Mariah, having had all she could take for the week, fainted; landing on the blood-soaked floor, the mask lying just inches away.

  She woke in the ambulance, her mother hyperventilating into an oxygen mask next to her gurney. Olivia sat staring at her with a worried look. Olivia was no doubt upset, she had been called to the house now multiple times, each scene more gruesome than the next. First the recluse.

  “Crap,” she mumbled under her breath, she had completely forgotten to tell the exterminator about the recluse and that possible infestation. Making a mental note to call the guy later, Mariah glanced around the ambulance once more. Her mom looked to be calming down. Next to her was the priest. His eyes were closed and he looked to be praying, and then of course Olivia and her partner.

  Mariah pulled the oxygen mask off her face and looked at her mom, tears filling her eyes. She had not wanted her mother to ever have to see something so horrible. If she could take back all those moments and simply put her foot down and make the nun and priest leave, none of this would have happened.

  “Is she…” Mariah looked at Olivia, the words failing her.

  “Yes, DOA,” Olivia said and wiped her hand across her forehead. Obviously, she was stressed about all the calls to the Oakley house over the last week.

  Dead, a nun is dead in her basement. How is this happening? Mariah thought back to the day she looked at Oakley house, everything was perfect. There was nothing that stood out except the ghost stories that were rumored, but how could those be true if none of the people of this town had ever lived there before? The truth was undeniable though, even if Mariah wanted to deny it, she knew what she saw in the basement and the attic. What the hell happened in that house?

  Olivia reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it just a little. She took a deep breath and then sat back against the wall of the ambulance. That was all it took, Mariah let go of the dam of tears she had been holding back. As they fell onto her cheeks and ran down her tired blood-soaked body all she could do was heave into her mask. This was all too much for her to bare. Here she sat, riding to the hospital with her mom, her mom’s priest and her new best friend, covered in someone else’s blood, and with a headache that could level a city. No doubt the news stations would be all over her house by the time she got home.

  After checking in, and being thoroughly evaluated, the hospital staff gave Mariah some clean scrubs to put on in place of her blood-soaked clothes, which she gladly accepted. Her mother was checked over as well, even though all she suffered was shock. The doctor gave them each some medication to take before bed that would help them rest without nightmares. Sliding the drugs into her moms’ bag, they walked together to the breezeway to call a Back2Ride service for a ride home. As her mom was pulling the app open, Olivia pulled into the circle drive in the back seat of Austin’s car. Austin was driving.

  He rolled the passenger window down and offered to give Mariah and her mom a ride home. Mariah gratefully accepted. She hated riding in a stranger’s car and she practically knew Austin, since he’d been to her house so many times now. Plus, she had seen news stories about people being murdered after getting into one of the Back2Ride type services. She was happy to avoid that same fate. Her mom on the other hand was not feeling it.

  “I’ll call one of my friends to grab me if that’s okay, ladybug? I need some air and time to think.” She told them to drive safe as Mariah climbed into the front seat.

  As much as she didn’t want to leave her mom alone right now, she wanted to get home to supervise the cleanup in her basement and handle the possible police presence. This house was becoming a nightmare. Mariah was so grateful to have Olivia there to help her out. She was such an asset not only for medical attention, but companionship as well.

  “Okay momma, just call me if you have any problems. I hate leaving you alone.” Remembering the sleeping medication that she had put into her moms’ bag earlier, Mariah called back out the window to her mom who was already walking in the direction of a bench. “Hey momma, my meds are in your bag.” Mariah jumped out of the car and ran over to her mom, she reached into the bag on her mom’s arm and pulled out her pill bottle with the sleeping medication in it, then she hugged her mom tight before returning to the car.

  Austin drove in silence for what seemed like forever. Mariah stared out the window at the sky. After a while they turned onto the rocky road leading to her house and Mariah sat up straighter, not looking forward to what was waiting at the end of the drive. Austin, however, pulled the car off to the side when they reached the gate, startling Mariah from her thoughts.

  He and Mariah chatted about the house and the ghosts for a few minutes. He suggested they talk to the ghosts in the house, and Mariah, laughing and probably concussed agreed with him. They should try to talk to the ghosts. Ask them to leave. He told her he needed to get back to work, so Mariah climbed out of the car, Olivia following closely behind her, and they walked the rest of the way to the house.

  “When I arrived, you were lying there at the bottom of the stairs covered in blood next to the dead body of a nun of all people. I was so afraid that you were dead,” Olivia said, taking Mariah’s hand as they walked.

  “I saw something, and I guess I fainted. I must have landed in her blood.” Mariah shivered as the memory came back.

  The woman in the corner, she just disappeared straight through the wall. She was beautiful, a long flowing dress, long flowing hair but her eyes, they were full of hate. The fear that gripped Mariah when she saw her was horrible. It wasn’t the same feeling she had when she saw the girl in the attic. The girl in the attic prompted shock but the woman in the basement, fear. The girl in the attic had eyes filled with sadness, despite the fact that they were oozing blood. The woman in the basement had eyes filled with hate. Pure, unadulterated hate.

  “The mask was with you, I have it here.” Olivia reached behind her and pulled out a little bundle of rags, she unfolded it to reveal the mask. “This thing seems to be following you around. I know that sounds stupid, but it just seems to be wherever you go.” Olivia placed the mask into Mariah’s hand and then resumed holding her other hand.

  It did s
eem to be showing up in the weirdest places. Looking down at their hands, Mariah contemplated if she was reading things right, or if she was still in shock and not thinking straight, she stopped walking, leaned over and kissed Olivia. Olivia seemed to kiss her back at first, but then pulled away. Feeling embarrassed, Mariah thought hard about how to cover that mistake.

  “I’m sorry, I…” Mariah started but Olivia cut her off.

  “Look, you’re beautiful, fun, adventurous, and brave.” Olivia stopped for a moment, as if thinking.

  “But...” Mariah prompted quietly.

  “But I’m not sure what I feel for you is romantic. I like being friends.” Olivia finished by reaching back over and squeezing Mariah’s hand. “I do like you, but I also like men. I enjoy keeping my options open.”

  Mariah nodded. She understood and, in a way, was grateful for Olivia’s honesty. Being honest up front avoids a lot of hassle later on.

  She redirected her attention to the mask, looking it over as though some new clue to her house would appear. Mariah had hoped that there wouldn’t be too many people still at the house. It had been hours since the police and medics had arrived, so they should be finished soon. To her surprise, there was no one at the house, just the priest’s car and her mother’s car. And, of course, Betty was in the driveway. It looked like her porch lights had gone out. Fantastic, she thought as she climbed the steps and headed to the door. Mariah turned around as she reached the top of her front steps, Olivia standing at the bottom.