John didn’t say anything as I retrieved a bottle of bourbon from my cabinet, but I could see the disdain on his face. He was here to help me, but he judged me too. If I hadn’t needed his help with the basement door, I would have thrown him out.
Instead, I poured myself two fingers of the whiskey and drank them down. As the tingly heat from the booze spread from my throat to my chest, I relaxed. John sat down at the table across from me, and I could see that his expression had softened.
My intention was to tell him that I’d gotten locked down in the basement and was spooked by my own imagination in the other side of the house. The bourbon had loosened my tongue enough that the entire story came spilling out. I didn’t realize it until I was done talking, but at some point during my story, John had taken my hand.
When I was done speaking, he nodded his head, got up, and began working without a word. I wasn’t sure if he believed me, or if he just wanted to help me because I was in distress.
I decided to take the help gratefully, and while he pounded away with the hammer, I got my laptop out and searched for Crestview in Norman. What I found sent a chill down my spine.
It took me a moment to decide if I was fascinated or horrified by the information I’d found. Crestview wasn’t a retirement or nursing home. It was a cemetery. Janice hadn’t moved out to be closer to family, she’d died.
Was the terrifying apparition I’d seen in the other side of the house the ghost of Janice Lockheed? Perhaps she was trying to scare me away from what she considered her home. At the time, it made sense.
“Hey, Sam. I’m done. Do you want to take a look?” John startled me when he walked up behind me.
“You scared the crap out of me,” I said and stood up.
“Sorry, I bet you’re on edge after your ordeal.” Something in his voice told me he didn’t really believe my story.
Without really thinking about it, I walked over to the cabinet and pulled out the bottle of bourbon. After pouring myself another glass, I turned back to John.
“Please don’t patronize me,” I said spitefully.
“I wasn’t, Sammy.” He said apologetically. “You have to admit that it’s a hard story to believe.”
“Why?” I hissed. “Because I lie to you so often. Because I’ve given you so many reasons to doubt me.”
I had no idea why I was so angry with him. The story was incredulous. If the roles had been reversed, I would have recommended that John be evaluated by a mental health professional.
“Sammy, please calm down.” John pleaded, but I felt my stomach clench with an irrational rage.
“Did you really just tell me to calm down?”
“Baby, please calm down,” John whispered.
“Baby? Don’t call me baby. I am not your baby. We are not going there right now. Just because we hang out doesn’t mean we’re together.” There was so much venom in my voice that even I was surprised, but I kept going. “You don’t get to call me pet names. In fact, I think you need to leave.”
“You’re right. I do need to leave. This is absolute bull crap, Samantha. You only ever call me when you need something, and do I even get a thank you? No. I get yelled at. Call somebody else next time you need to use someone.” He snapped.
“I will.”
John’s shoulders fell in defeat, and he looked utterly stricken. “I’m sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean that. You can always call me. I hope you know that.”
“Get out!” I screamed at him because as much as I wanted to, something wouldn’t let me forgive him.
Chapter Eight
I drank two more shots of whiskey, and then decided I didn’t want to be alone. The only person I could think of to call was Cameron. He said that he’d come pick me up right away. I told him we could just hang out at my house, but he’d said that it was better if we went somewhere a little more public. I had no idea why he felt that way, but I figured I’d rather ask him in person.
Cameron arrived ten minutes later, and in that time, I’d downed three more shots of whiskey. I’m not even sure why I was drinking it, but at the time I felt compelled to keep hitting the bourbon like my life depended on it.
Fortunately, I wasn’t sloppy drunk yet by the time he knocked on my door. All of the liquor hadn’t hit yet, and I was still able to act reasonably normal. He could smell it on me, though.
“You’ve been drinking.” He said, but there wasn’t a hint of judgment in his voice. “A lot.”
“Yeah,” I answered guiltily.
“Let’s get you some fresh air.”
“Where are we going?” I asked as he backed the car out of the driveway.
“I figured we’d go to a movie. That way we can be together, but you don’t have to talk. It will give you some time to decompress before you tell me about what’s going on.”
He meant sober up, but I appreciated the sentiment. We didn’t make it to the movie theater before my stomach protested the large amount of alcohol I’d dumped into it.
“Pull over. I don’t feel good.” I pleaded.
I didn’t get sick, but I wasn’t sure if I could get back in the car. I got motion sick anyway, and the booze in my system was making a simple car ride more than I could bare. The good news was that we’d stopped a block away from a massive park on the edge of town.
“This will work too,” Cameron said with a compassionate smile. “Let’s go, Samantha. A little time walking amongst the trees will do you a world of good.”
He took my hand, and we walked towards the park entrance. Having Cameron’s hand in mine slowed the spinning in my head and made my stomach settle. For the first time since we’d gotten out of the car, I felt the warm sunshine on my face.
Cameron didn’t say anything for a long time. He led me down one of the park’s trails quietly, and I felt peace and clarity for the first time in a long time. I remembered feeling this at ease in life before I’d started drinking, and I knew what I had to do.
“Cameron, I need to quit drinking,” I said just above a whisper. “I think I have a problem.”
“That’s so good to hear.” He said and pulled me into a hug. “I’ve been praying for you.”
“I didn’t know you did that,” I said surprised, but I should have just said thank you.
“I still pray, Sammy. I don’t believe in the churches interpretation of God, but I do believe in him.” He said and squeezed me tighter.
“I was an atheist, or maybe an agnostic until I moved into my house,” I said.
“What changed your mind? Is it just the things you’ve been experiencing?” He asked after letting me go.
We began walking again, and I took a minute to ponder how to best explain what I’d discovered. I think I’d mentioned the stuff going on in the house to Cameron before, but I couldn’t remember. Maybe those conversations had been in my imagination.
“There’s a ghost in my house, Cameron. I can’t deny the existence of an afterlife anymore. We’re not just meat suits, and when we die, our consciousness doesn’t go out.”
“I know that, and I’m glad that you know it now too.” He said and squeezed my hand affectionately. “But, what do you mean that there’s a ghost in your house?”
Maybe I hadn’t told him anything. Or perhaps he just wanted the whole story again. Recent history had become a blur that made it difficult to remember specific incidents with any kind of accuracy.
“I’ve been hearing things and seeing things in my apartment.” I began.
We happened across a bench and Cameron and I sat down while I told him the rest of the story. Once I was done explaining the occurrences that had plagued me, I explained to him what I’d found out about the former tenant.
“I know that the woman who lived there before makes a convenient scapegoat for the activity in your home, but it doesn’t sound like a haunting, Sammy.”
“What else would it be?” I hoped that his answer wasn’t a demon because I wasn’t in the mood for religious garbage at that moment.
> “You already know what I’m going to say, and I can tell by your tone that you don’t really want to hear it.”
“It’s okay,” I said and took a deep breath. “I understand what you believe, but I do think it’s the spirit of the woman who lived there before. Maybe she’s angry because I’m living in her home. I think I need to reach out to her.”
“That’s the worst thing you can do,” Cameron said adamantly.
“Why?” I asked, but truthfully, I was ready to tune him out.
“If you reach out to the entity, you’re essentially inviting it into your life. If it’s a demon, you’ve probably already done that, but if you engage with it, things will get much worse.” He said gravely.
“You’re saying I’ve already invited a demon into my life. So, if it is malevolent, it’s my fault?” Okay, now he had my interest and not in a good way.
“No, I’m not saying it’s your fault. Whatever happened in your life that opened the door to it, you might not have known what was going on. Do you remember anything recently that could have attracted the evil spirit? Something that you really regret?”
“No.” I lied.
I didn’t want to talk to Cameron about bad things I’d done. Even though I thought he was ridiculous, there was still a big part of me that craved his approval. I wanted, no I needed, him to like me.
“I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t want you to get upset.” He said gently. “Okay?”
“Go ahead,” I mumbled.
“When did the drinking start?”
“Well, when I was twenty-one I guess,” I said and blushed. “Okay, I had a beer at a party when I was nineteen, but I felt so bad about breaking the law that I waited until I was twenty-one to drink again.”
“Samantha, you know what I mean.”
I was lying to him, and I’d been lying to myself too. Something was very wrong with me, but I hadn’t wanted to deal with it. I’d been stuffing the memories down because I had school and a new job to worry about as well. I’d started drinking whenever life got a little hard to deal with, but the truth was, since the incident with Ryder, my life had flat out been hard to deal with. There was a baseline anxiety and depression that permeated my days. So, I drank.
“Something happened earlier this year. I’m not proud of it, and I haven’t actually told anyone.”
He just smiled reassuringly at me, and then listened quietly while I told him about the party and Ryder. By the time I was done with my story, the smile on his face had been replaced by a startlingly grim expression.
“I don’t think you’ve got a ghost on your hands, Sammy. You need to be careful.”
“Would you come over and take a look around?” I wasn’t sure why I thought that would help, but I hoped that it would.
“I can do that.” He said and gave my hand a squeeze. “Would you mind if I called someone from my old church. I’d like to get their take on your situation.”
“You know what, never mind,” I said. “Could you take me home?”
Chapter Nine
After that, I kept to myself until my new job started. On my first day, I shadowed an RN who thought the best way for me to learn the ropes was to watch her do her rounds for the evening shift.
About halfway through the shift, a patient had an episode during the medication pass. There were only a few people left who needed their meds, and the RN had already measured out the doses. She asked me to finish giving the medication while she helped with the patient who needed sedation.
The last room in the rotation was the one that made me wish I’d said no. The patient, Elizabeth Barrett, was a young woman committed to the mental hospital for her third suicide attempt. She had a history of psychosis and delusions of persecution. Elizabeth was calm and compliant long enough to get me to let my guard down.
“You’re new.” She muttered.
“I am. I’m Samantha, and I’ll be working as an LPN on this shift.”
She studied me quietly as I retrieved her medication from the cart and punched the confirmation code into the tablet we used for monitoring med passes. I held the little paper cup out towards her.
“Do you want water or juice?” I asked.
Then, the door slammed shut behind me. I jumped at the sound, and Elizabeth started to laugh. She stood up and crossed the room in a flash. Before I realized what was going on, I felt her hand wind into my hair. She pulled my face close to her and stared into my eyes.
The strangest thing about the situation was the smell of lilacs. The scent of the flowers became almost overwhelming as the unhinged patient began to speak.
“It’s coming for you. There’s nowhere to run.” She hissed.
Before I could speak, the door burst open again. Susan, the RN supervising me, rushed into the room and stared Elizabeth down.
“Let go of her, Ms. Barrett. I’ll be forced to sedate you unless you sit down right now.” Susan said in a calm, commanding tone. “I don’t want to have to do that. You’ve been doing so well.”
Immediately, Elizabeth let go of me and sat down on the bed. She looked like an entirely different person, and it occurred to me that perhaps it wasn’t Elizabeth that had grabbed my hair.
I wasn’t sure what to make of the incident, though, because I thought it was my house that was haunted. If there was some sort of entity inside of Elizabeth Barrett communicating with me, why?
What she’d said to me sounded like a warning, but it could have just as easily been a threat. It was also possible that she had been trying to get a rise out of me and knew nothing about my current situation at home. If I was going to do my job effectively, I knew I had to pull myself together fast.
But, what about the door slamming shut behind me?
The rest of my shift had been uneventful. After the medication had been passed, lights out followed. Susan said that nighttime could go either way. Either everyone went to sleep, and it was quiet, or one person began acting out, and the chaos spread to everyone. Thankfully, everyone went to sleep, and we handed the shift off to new nurses at eleven.
I wanted to shake my thoughts about Elizabeth Barrett and leave them at work. Taking the night home with me would’ve been a sure-fire way to increase my stress level. I also desperately wanted the entity in my house to be Janice Lockheed, and I wanted her to be at peace with my presence in the apartment.
In the back of my mind, where I refused to acknowledge it, was the fear that the spirit in my house wasn’t Janice. If it was something malevolent, my subconscious mind knew that it would feed off my negative energy.
So, I stopped at the local diner that sat between work and my house. I was starving and in desperate need of a pick-me-up. This hadn’t been the way I’d expected to feel after the first shift of my dream job.
The diner was fairly empty, and there were only a couple of other tables that had people sitting at them. I ordered a huge lumberjack breakfast and a Cherry Coke when the waitress came around to my table. I justified it in my mind by reminding myself that pancakes were better for me than whiskey.
I took out my phone and tapped the screen to bring it to life. I didn’t want to be alone because I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to go home and not have a drink. But, I wasn’t sure who to call.
I hadn’t talked to Riley in a long time, and it felt wrong to call her this late out of the blue. She also still drank, and I wasn’t confident that she’d be supportive. Riley would have most likely told me that I was too serious, and then we’d end up back at my house drinking until the sun came up.
That left John or Cameron. Wow. What a choice that had become recently. I closed my eyes, tried to clear my mind, and asked the cosmos which I should choose. My answer was a huge plate of food being set down in front of me.
“You okay, sweetie?” The waitress asked cheerfully.
“Yeah. I was just praying.” I said figuring this would be the most believable thing, and it would probably make her turn and run.
“Let me kno
w if you need anything.” She said quickly and skedaddled away.
I paid the check and left a half hour later. When I got out to my car, I noticed I had a message. It was from John.
I was just thinking about you. I hope you’re well.
The message had been sent at the exact time I’d been asking who to call.
Chapter Ten
Calling John would have been the right thing to do, but instead, I went home. As I opened my front door, I could feel the wickedness in the air.
Even though it was warm outside, the air in my house was ice cold. The air conditioning wasn’t on, so there was no natural explanation for the cold atmosphere in my home.
“Janice?” I asked as I closed the front door behind me.
Cameron had told me not to engage with the entity, but I was cocksure of myself and decided to ignore his warning. I’d made a mistake.
The deadbolt behind me clicked into place, and when I turned around to try and unlock the door, the bolt was frozen in place. The next sound I heard was the sound of the basement door opening and slamming shut. That had to be impossible. I’d seen John nail it shut.
I was torn between walking into the kitchen to check the basement door at the bottom of the pantry and desperately trying to find a way back out of the house.
“You’re not going anywhere.” A raspy voice said from the living room.
The voice sounded half human and half… I don’t know… Reptilian? Either way, it was the most unnerving thing I’d ever experienced. There were three possibilities, and none of them were good.
Someone had broken into my house.
I was trapped by a malevolent entity.
Full on psychosis had set in.
While I weighed my options, I heard whoever was in my living room stand up. The floorboards creaked under their feet as they made their way towards where I stood in the hallway.
As they approached the spot in the doorway where they’d come into view, a strangled yelp escaped my throat. My heart pounded, and sweat ran in a thin line down my back.
Devil Hour Page 7
