Haunted Hideout: Paranormal Suspense (The Haunted Ones Book 1)

by Dorey, Michelle

  ***

  What? What was that? His head jerked up. The room was pitch-black. He couldn’t see anything. Shit! He’d dozed off! He jumped to his feet and groped forward to where the sofa was. He reached out and felt only the cushions. “Lydia?” He kept moving along the cushions, “Angela, Mark?” But there was nothing there.

  Where were they?

  He straightened, staring into the pitch-dark across the room. His hand yanked his weapon from its holster. For whatever good it would do. Something was very wrong. The back of his neck prickled.

  Who took them?

  Listening hard, he inched forward. “Lydia?” His free hand brushed the side of the archway, and he stopped short. Grabbing Angela’s phone from his pocket, he shone the beam over the stairs. There was nothing there.

  THUMP! THUMP! His heart skipped a beat at the pounding on the front door. Oh shit, was it the old man?

  Sidling up to the door, he peeked out the window beside it and let out a whoosh of breath. Lydia and the kids! He yanked the door open before she could pound on it again.

  A blast of icy air hit his face followed by Angela clambering to get inside. She stepped by him, “Shit! The frigging door locked behind us!”

  He glared at Lydia, “What the hell were you doing?”

  Shoving her way in, she looked past him to the darkened hallway and snarled, “Great! Just great. The power’s out again.” She had Mark by the hand and yanked him through the doorway with her.

  Mark managed to slide in a soft murmur, “I had to pee.” Lydia once more snapped, “It was just a quick trip outside! We weren’t going back upstairs to that creepy bathroom.” Her chin rose leading the way. “Nice job, keeping an eye on things, Jake. You were sound asleep.”

  He replied with an edge in his voice. “You should have woken me up! We’re supposed to stick together!” For the first time he was glad the light was low. They couldn’t see how his face was flaming with embarrassment. He had never before in his life fallen asleep on duty.

  Lydia wasn’t giving up, “Hey! I tried to! I called your name a bunch of times, but—”

  “Stop it, okay?” Angela’s hand flew up between Jake and her mother. “You two bickering isn’t gonna help us.” She pulled Mark after her, stepping over to the living room entrance. “Shit! The fire went out too?”

  Jake was still standing there holding the door open like some kind of butler as they filed past chattering and bitching to no end. He went to ease it closed against the wind when the door flew from his hand and crashed into the frame with a loud bang. He jumped back at the suddenness of it. It slammed so hard the window glass cracked. He stiffened, staring at the jagged line in the window. It shut on its own? What the hell?

  His jaw clenched tight and his eyes darted around the dark room. Message received, but fuck you, you evil piece of shit! Reaching forward, he grabbed at the door to open it again; icy pain speared through his hand as soon as it touched the knob. “Shit!” he yelled, jerking it back. “Owww!” He’d left a layer of skin of the surface of the now frozen metal.

  It was like dry ice! A knot of dread gripped his gut when he turned to the family.

  More scared than angry now, Lydia yelped, “What’s wrong?”

  Before he could answer, a blood curdling scream pierced the air!

  It came from upstairs! Jake pointed his light to the top of the staircase. He peered blinking, seeing something in the low beam. A man’s lower leg and boot had shown briefly and vanished. Thudding footsteps shook the ceiling above.

  “NO! Please, no!” Another high-pitched wail pealed from above.

  It sliced through Jake’s chest. Again, the girl’s terrorized scream shrieked. More shuddering bangs followed...then, the agonizing scream again!

  “We gotta get out of here!” Angela pushed by him, grabbing the door handle. “Oow!” She jerked back, rubbing her hand. “What the hell?”

  From above, the horrifying sounds of a life and death struggle continued. Screams punctuated with gurgling pleas, the sound of bare feet padding on the floor above followed by heavy boots in pursuit, the crunching noise of the ax rising and falling on its victim played over and over in a maelstrom of awful chaos. Lydia and the kids huddled together with tears shimmering in their eyes.

  Jake gaped at the ceiling along with the others, just as shocked, his brain as frozen as the doorknob. His years of training and experience had never covered this brand of shit-storm. That poor girl. For the last eighty plus years, night after night, year after year, she relived her own slaughter at the hands of that miserable animal. He flinched as the noises from above replayed again, the sound of the thunk of the ax head into flesh, ending with the crunch as it obliterated bone. And the girl’s dying screams fading. That girl’s mother and brother had moved on, but Nancy was imprisoned by that beast’s unquenchable malevolence.

  One way or another he was going to put a stop to that.

  But first things first. He had to look after the living before trying to help the already dead. “The back door! C’mon!” He grabbed Angela, shoving her into her mother. Gripping Mark’s arm, he hustled him along. On the way, he tucked his gun back into its holster, securing the retaining strap. The weapon was absolutely useless for what they were dealing with.

  They ran past the kitchen to the small mudroom beyond, crowding into it.

  Whatever horror had happened in that house was playing out again. He made a decision, praying it was the right one. They’d have to take their chances with the storm outside. It had to be better odds than staying in the house—all hell was breaking loose!

  Angela was the first to reach the back door. She screamed when she grabbed the handle. “I can’t! My skin’s sticking to it!”

  Lydia grasped Angela’s arm, tugging for all she was worth. Jake’s fingers clawed at Angela’s prying them off the frigid metal. When she was free, he shoved his hand in his jacket pocket, using the cloth to grip the handle. He twisted, the vein in his forehead throbbing with the effort. Nothing was happening! The handle was impossible to turn!

  Without warning, the house went silent. Quiet descended like a shroud. No more screams. Yet, this seemed even worse. Jake could hear his heartbeat thudding in his ears.

  When footsteps resumed their thudding from above, Lydia grabbed the kids to shield them. He could hear the steps getting louder! The old man had finished his slaughter upstairs and he was coming down for them.

  Lydia’s face twisted in a knot as she yelled at him, “He’s coming! Kick the damned door down! We’ve got to get out of here!”

  Jake craned his neck listening. Every thudding footstep upstairs sent an ice pick of fear through his chest. Slow and steady, it lumbered loudly along the upstairs hall. Oh shit! How do you fight a ghost?

  He handed the phone to Lydia and his body twisted, kicking the oak slab with everything he had. The shock went through his bones. He felt a “pop” and red hot pain spiked in his ankle. Shit! He broke something in there. But the footsteps were on the stairs now! He kicked it again...and again, adrenaline drowning the jarring jolts of pain.

  “He’s coming!” Angela screeched before joining him, battering her foot against the door.

  All the while, the footsteps kept coming, closer and closer.

  “MOM!”

  At Mark’s scream, Jake’s head turned. It was the old man! His hand curled around the handle of an ax, and his white shirt was stained with blood. But it was the demented look in his eyes, sneering in the beam of the phone’s light that made Jake’s blood freeze. The old man meant to kill them!

  THIRTY TWO

  Angela

  ANGELA SCREAMED. That thing! That old man was right there! His eyes flared red while a leer twisted his bloody lips. He just stood there holding the ax by his side; thick, wet drips fell from it, plopping to the floor. He had them cold and he knew it! They were doomed...just like his family had been that night.

  They were trapped in the mudroom, crowded in like animals! She peed herself, and i
t barely registered.

  The lights flickered a few times and then came on. She blinked at the unexpected brightness.

  Her body tightened. Now she could see all of that thing down the hall, the greasy strings of gray hair, the dark baggy trousers riddled with blood splatters and the ax head. Oh God. It was slathered with blood, and a bloody mass of hair caught in it. She forced her eyes away, the gorge rising in her throat.

  Jake pushed her and he shouted, breaking through the trance of horror. “Get in the kitchen!”

  She darted the few steps to the entry, dragging Mark by the hand. Even though it meant coming closer to that...that thing, at least there was another way out of that room. They could run into the dining room. Yeah right! They’d go in circles being chased by that thing!

  Mom was right behind her, coming to a halt in the middle of the room. Where was Jake?

  She could hardly believe it when he yelled, “You aren’t real, old man! Go back to hell where you came from!”

  A high-pitched laugh sent a shiver down her spine. That horrid old man was demented! Hell-bent on a killing spree!

  She looked over at the entry where Jake stood facing the thing. Every cell of her body screamed at him Hurry! Get away! Her throat froze solid, her eyes bulging as she watched. Jake stood his ground. What the hell was he doing?

  Jake snorted, “You pretended to be a man of God, you pig. All the while hiding booze, lusting for your own daughter! You’re nothing but a weak, hypocrite!” Jake scoffed. “You weren’t much of a man, and you sure aren’t much of a ghost!” He held his thumbs up to his ears and waggled his fingers. “Boo back, asshole!”

  The thing snarled, and his footstep thudded on the floor! Angela gasped. Why was Jake goading the thing? He was crazy! That thing was going to kill him!

  “Jake!” Mom shrieked. She grabbed Mark, holding him close to her chest, openly sobbing.

  Time morphed into thick honey. Everything played out in slow motion while her mind raced at warp speed. She had to do something or else Jake was going to die. Then they’d all be picked off, one by one.

  A distraction! She shrieked, “Nancy!” But it wasn’t Nancy’s face that flooded her mind.

  Daddy? She blinked a couple times. Of course! He was dead too. “What should I do, Daddy?” Her eyes squeezed shut, but there was nothing. No message, no clue as to what would save them.

  A thud on her arm made her eyes flash open. The shaker of salt floated end over end toward the floor. A scene of a horror movie she’d watched with Mark sparked in her brain. SALT! The hero had used salt against the entity. She scooped the shaker into her fist. In a flash she had the top off. White crystals filled the palm of her other hand and she leapt to the entry way! Snaking her arm by Jake, she hurled a handful of grains at the scary old man. “Take that!”

  Her eyes widened seeing the thing stop. It even shrank back. It didn’t like that! She tossed another handful at it.

  Bellowing rage, it lurched to the side, and disappeared into the dining room. Its footsteps raced across the room, followed by a loud crash.

  When she turned her head the old man leapt from the dining room. His eyes were fixed on her mother and Mark. He reached out his hands, fingers scrabbling at Mark.

  “No!” She had to get to Mark!

  Jake shoved her aside. Mark clung to Mom but the thing had him by the collar of his jacket! Mom’s fingers tore through the fabric trying to pull Mark back to her.

  Jake grabbed its wrist and in a sweeping twist, broke its hold on the boy. He stood facing it. “In God’s name, leave us alone! In Jesus’ name get the hell away from us!”

  The thing’s eyes opened wider and it paused. It was the chance she needed! She took the last of the salt and heaved it. The look of shock on its face as it staggered backwards gave her a glimmer of hope.

  She darted to the cabinet to find more ammunition but Jake was one step ahead of her. He turned holding the box before him. She ripped it from his hand and sprung over to the entryway. A line of salt. That’s what the guy in the movie had done. She poured it out and then raced to the other doorway to seal it with a thick line of salt.

  The old man roared and she spun around to see. It—that thing—stepped closer. She braced herself, every muscle in her body quivering like a taut rope. But it stopped at the thin white line of salt. “It’s working!” She grabbed her mother’s arm, twisting her to see it.

  “How did you know?” Mom swiped a tear from her cheek, and her grip on Mark loosened.

  Mark answered, “That movie.” He looked up at Angela with awe in his eyes. “How did you ever think of it?”

  Jake’s voice was low when he interrupted, “Oh my God. Look at that.”

  Angela turned to where he was facing. She gasped. There, framed by the wooden entry was the girl—Nancy. Her dark eyes stared at them while her hand rose to cup the wound on her neck. Her fingers showed the blood when she held her hand before her. A ripple, like a pebble tossed into a pond water started to shimmer in the girl’s chest. Angela watched in wonder as the Nancy’s entire figure began to shimmer in rippling waves. A quick flash of the purest white pulsed out from her and held for a brief moment before fading. And when it faded, Nancy was gone.

  “He’s gone, too!” Mark’s voice broke through their silent trance.

  Angela could hardly believe her eyes. There was only darkness in the other room. The old guy had vanished. “What just happened?” She slouched forward, and her jaw dropped.

  Lydia released Mark and then strode over to stand next to the doorway. She shook her head, as if she couldn’t believe it was the last of the old guy. “Is it over? That can’t be all of it.”

  Angela peered into the dining room to see if he was hiding somewhere in there. She could hear her breath in the stillness that now filled the house. But there was nothing to be seen or heard.

  Jake’s voice was barely above a whisper, “Anything’s possible in this house.” He looked at his watch. “It’s just about four. In another hour it’ll start to be light outside. It’ll be safer to leave then.”

  Lydia barked a sarcastic laugh, “Safer? Anything’s gotta be safer than this!” She walked over to the window to peer outside. “The storm’s let up. I can just about see to the river.”

  Angela was still trying to process it all, but her mind was overwhelmed with what had just happened. She slumped into a chair and watched Mark settle beside her.

  Her brother’s eyes met hers. His face was pale making the freckles across the bridge of his nose stand out in stark contrast. He was a wreck with the bloodshot eyes and dark cusps rimming under them. “You don’t think it’s ended, do you?” he said, his voice shaking.

  She leaned closer, “It was Dad, Mark. I know he was here when it was really bad. He made me remember that movie and the salt.” It was a certainty she felt with every fiber. Hell. The horrible old man and Nancy had been in the house, why not Dad? Knowing this, her chest grew lighter. Dad was gone...but not really.

  Mark nodded. “I know. I felt him too.”

  THIRTY THREE

  Lydia

  LYDIA STAGGERED TO THE TABLE and dropped into a chair next to the kids. She looked at each of them with a sense of wonder. Her kids had been strong throughout this ordeal. If they could handle this, they could get through anything. She and Liam had done a good job raising them.

  Still, a kernel of worry niggled in her gut. Was this a lull before the storm? Were the house and its ghosts finally done? She wasn’t convinced. She’d never believed in ghosts until that night. She always thought that people who really believed in that stuff were more than a little nuts. She couldn’t help but chuckle. Now she was one of those people.