The Haunting of Blackwood House

by Darcy Coates

  So, someone was in the attic. Or possibly multiple someones. When I checked the backyard, it was clear a heavy object had fallen there. But I can’t imagine a person would be in a fit state to walk away from an accident like that. Unless they had an accomplice to carry them…

  A clatter made her turn. Neil was carrying an armful of the bed’s broken frame to the fireplace. He stacked some of the smaller fragments in the grate, poked two fire starters under them, and lit the arrangement. He was gone again in a flash.

  Next, I thought I saw a face in the window. But I already have a possible explanation for that: the torch’s reflection. It was such a brief glimpse that I can’t know for sure either way. I searched the house, and it was empty to the best of my knowledge.

  Mara sipped at the drink. It was chamomile tea; Neil had brought his favourite brand to share with her.

  The wailing sound was just the fireplace. I’d thought I’d also heard the rocking chair creaking even though it was against the wall. But it could have just as easily been the basement door swinging. I saw it being blown open with my own eyes. As for being trapped in the basement… well, that was just a combination of bad luck and terrible timing.

  Mara had been so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed Neil’s return until he pushed a bag of marshmallows into her hands. “Eat those; you need to get your blood sugar up.”

  “Oh, nice; you got the nongeneric brand.” Mara pulled the bag open and began picking out the pink balls.

  Neil had brought extra blankets, which he wrapped around her shoulders and legs before turning to tend to the fire. Mara pushed a handful of the marshmallows into her mouth and chewed as she thought.

  In that lightning flash, I’m certain I saw twitching legs. The shadows fell in such a way that they would need to be cast by something hanging from the bannister, but there was nothing there when I looked more closely. So what was that?

  It took her a minute to come up with the answer, and when she did, she almost slapped herself for not thinking of it before. The light came through the foyer window. And outside of that window is a whole bunch of trees. I saw the shadows of branches being tugged about by the wind, and my overexcited mind interpreted them as twitching legs.

  “How are you feeling?” Neil took her hand and squeezed it. “You’re still cold.”

  “No, no; I’m defrosting nicely. Come and sit with me a moment. I want to leech off your body heat.”

  Neil finally seemed to be relaxing. He took the seat beside Mara and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him, rejoicing in the sawdust-and-herbs scent, and shook the bag of marshmallows towards him. He took one.

  “That’s a nice fire you made,” Mara said, smiling at the crackling flames. The small pieces of wood were halfway to being consumed, and the fire was beginning to catch on the larger slats. “Thanks.”

  “Shh. Drink the rest of your tea. I’ll make you some more when you’re finished.”

  Mara laughed. “You’re like the micromanaging Greek aunt I never had.”

  Neil kissed the top of her head. He still seemed uneasy, but Mara couldn’t remember ever being so at peace before. Her experience was completely explainable. There were no evil presences lurking in her home—just natural causes, coincidences, and the strong possibility of an intruder… and intruders were only human. They could be dealt with.

  The fire and portable heater were taking the chill off her. Mara had no idea how long she’d been in the basement, but it couldn’t have been more than a few hours—her clothes were still wet from the rain. That meant she’d woken no earlier than three in the morning. Just goes to show how crazed a mind can become in the middle of the night. And Blackwood isn’t exactly the cosiest house I’ve ever seen. No wonder so many of its occupants thought there were supernatural presences.

  “Mara.” Neil kissed her again. “Are you feeling well enough to tell me what happened last night? It was obviously something big.”

  “Not really. I heard some noises and let them freak me out. Nothing bad happened.” She was starting to feel sleepy and nuzzled closer to Neil. He hugged her tightly, but she thought it stemmed more from anxiety than contentedness.

  “Did something wake you?”

  “Um.” He won’t like it, but I need to tell him about the footsteps. “I thought I heard someone in the attic again.”

  Neil’s arms tightened further. “I found a knife on the kitchen bench.”

  “Yeah, that’s mine. It was just a precaution.”

  “And the bloody handprints on the wall?”

  Mara pulled back and frowned. “What?”

  “Didn’t you see them? They’re in the recreation room.”

  Mara wormed herself out of his arms and hopped through the library.

  Neil jogged after her, calling, “Slow down; you’re not wearing shoes. Watch out for nails!”

  Now… how do I explain this? Mara faced the recreation room wall opposite the basement door. Bright-red handprints were smeared across the wood. Is this from the intruder? I should have seen them when I investigated the open basement door, though, surely?

  Neil caught up with her and tried to wrap a blanket about her shoulders. “Come on; we can talk about this later. You need to rest.”

  An idea struck Mara, and she raised her hand. She’d cut herself when she’d grabbed the knife the night before, and blood was smeared over the fingers and the top half of the palm, though most of it had rubbed off when she’d scrabbled over the basement’s floor. Did I touch the walls last night? I can’t remember. The marks look close to the right size…

  “You said you weren’t hurt!” Neil’s anxious tone had returned with a vengeance. He swept Mara into his arms and, ignoring her protests, carried her back to the fire. “Sit still while I get the first-aid kit. Can you remember when you last had a tetanus shot?”

  “It’s just a nick!” Mara called after Neil’s retreating footsteps. “It doesn’t even hurt! Jeeze.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY: Surveillance

  Mara scowled at the flames flickering in the fireplace. How’d blood get on the walls? I don’t remember touching them, but then, I was panicked, so I very well could have. Poor Neil. They must have freaked him out pretty badly. No wonder he’s fussing.

  Neil returned with the kit. She patiently let him clean, disinfect, and bandage the cut even though she thought a couple of Band-Aids would do the job just as well.

  “There.” Neil tied the bandage off with a relieved sigh. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  “No, I’m good now.” Mara brushed her fingers over the dressing and smiled. “Thanks.”

  Neil settled down beside her, and Mara retrieved the bag of marshmallows from where she’d dropped it. They watched the flames for several minutes, both absorbed in their thoughts. Neil was the first to break the silence. “I’m concerned about the footsteps you heard last night.”

  “I am, too.” Mara dug through the bag for a pink marshmallow. “I’ve been thinking about it. There are a couple of non-scary explanations. One, I could have been imagining it. I’d only just woken up, after all. Two, it could be a delusion brought on by some unknown cause. I had the house tested for gas leaks before moving in, but the results could have been wrong. Or there might be mind-addling mould. Or I could just be going crazy. I’ve heard that if you’re worried that you might be crazy, you’re fine, so I discounted insanity. But then, does discounting insanity mean I could be insane after all? I sort of got stuck in an infinite loop with that one.”

  Neil laughed and ran his fingers through her hair. “Okay, other than that.”

  “Right. Otherwise, the floorboards could be shifting in a very particular way to make it sound like there are footsteps. I can’t see that being the answer, though. It would be too much of a coincidence. The final option is, unfortunately, the most likely: that there was someone in my attic for two nights in a row.”

  Neil continued to play with her hair, but a frown had settled over his
eyes. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  “But that leaves us with a tough pair of questions: who and why? If the house did have a stalker, I can’t believe he’s still in action today.”

  “Maybe he passed the job on to someone else.”

  “It’s possible, I suppose, but a heck of a coincidence that two people would obsess over the same building. And it still leaves us with the why. If they wanted to rob or attack me, they’ve had plenty of opportunities. And, more disturbing, we’ve searched for them—multiple times—without finding any evidence of occupation let alone an actual person.”

  “And you’re a long way from any other properties,” Neil said. “They can’t be staying here; otherwise, we would have found signs. They can’t be driving to the house each night, or you’d hear the car. And it’s a hell of a commute if they’re walking or biking.”

  “Maybe they have a house in the woods.”

  Neil shook his head. “That makes no sense, either. There are no other pathways into this area, which means a squatter wouldn’t be able to get to town without using your driveway. And it looked like it hadn’t been travelled in years when we came to view the house.”

  “Hmm.” Mara chewed at her thumb. “This is a tough one. Maybe they parachute in and teleport out?”

  Neil chuckled. “Well, we can’t discount it.”

  “Regardless of the hows, I’d like to stop it from happening again. We can start with buying a new padlock for that attic door.”

  “I can do one better: surveillance equipment.”

  Mara’s eyebrows shot up. “Come again?”

  “I wanted to surprise you with it, but I guess now’s as good a time as any. A friend is getting rid of his generator and offered it to me. I can use it to get some basic power hooked up for you. Nothing flashy—not lights in every room or anything—but it would be enough to run a couple of bulbs and some security cameras. You can borrow my laptop for the next few nights, connect it to the cameras, and see into the attic twenty-four, seven.”

  “Neil.” Mara clasped his face between her hands and stared into his bright-blue eyes. “You’re brilliant.”

  The eyes crinkled into a smile. “You like it?”

  “C’mere.” Mara flipped over to straddle his lap. In the same motion, she pulled his head down to kiss him. He moaned and kissed back. His hands circled her waist, cautious and careful at first then eager as he held her close. Mara felt herself turn to liquid under his touch. His lips felt too good; she tangled her fingers in his hair as his tongue played across her mouth. His hands roved over her back, feeling her through the sweater, then pressed her tight to him. She arched into him—then froze as an upstairs door slammed. The simple sound brought a stab of the same terror she’d felt the night before, like a primal Pavlovian response.

  Neil pulled back. “Was that—”

  “Just the wind.” Mara let her hands rest on his chest, which rose and fell rapidly.

  Neil’s hands stayed on her back, but his eyes flickered over the room. The tension had returned to his arms. Mara gave him a final, gentle, lingering kiss on his cheek then slipped off his lap. “Guess we need to focus on the task at hand. There’s only so many hours in a day.”

  “Yeah, and we’ll have to move quickly to get everything set up for tonight.” Neil shifted forward to throw more wood on the fire, and Mara tilted her head to one side as she admired his back.

  “Hey, that reminds me: why’d you come in this morning? You said you read something.”

  Neil shot her a glance then turned back to the fire. “That’s right. But you’ve had a horrible night. I don’t want to throw this on you as well, so let’s talk about it later. It’s not even important, really—”

  “Oh, come on; I’m curious now. Tell me.”

  Neil settled into the chair beside her but kept his eyes on his hands. “Yesterday, when you found that photo of your grandfather—”

  “He’s really more like my great-great-grandfather.” Mara intertwined her hand with Neil’s. “But yeah, I remember.”

  “Do you also remember saying you wouldn’t care even if he’d built Blackwood?” He gave her a tight smile.

  Mara gaped at him. “You don’t mean—no, you’re joking—you’ve got to be joking. You can’t possibly be saying—”

  “I did some research last night. Victor Barlow built Blackwood House.”

  “What the—” Mara flopped back in the chair and stared at the walls surrounding her. My house. My home. Built by him?

  “It’s one heck of a coincidence,” Neil said quickly, seemingly trying to move Mara past the shock. “Apparently, he bought this plot of land from the government in the late eighteen hundreds. You might already know, but he was a woodcutter before he became a spiritualist. He built Blackwood over five years or thereabouts.”

  “Cripes,” Mara whispered. She tightened her grip on Neil’s hand. “Tell me everything. How long did he stay here?”

  “Eight years altogether. Three years after the building’s completion. He, uh…” Neil cleared his throat. “Robert Kant, the serial killer, murdered him.”

  Mara took a moment to let that fact sink in then bared her teeth in a dark, bitter smile. “Good.”

  “Is it?” Neil looked worried again.

  “It’s a fitting end for him, huh? If he’d been any good at his job, his precious spiritual friends could have warned him about what was coming. But they didn’t, and he paid the price. How’d Robert kill him?”

  “Uhh…” The worried look was intensifying. “He stabbed him in the basement.”

  “Nice, nice. Did Victor die quickly? Or did he, like, bleed out over a few hours, or…?”

  “Mara, sweetheart, precious lamb, darling kitten. Do you really need to know that?”

  She pouted. “I can see you’re not as excited by this news as I am.”

  “I doubt even Hannibal Lecter could rival your delight, but regardless, it’s way too morbid for me. Did you think that maybe that stain in the basement isn’t from a burst pipe, but blood?”

  “Ooh, yeah—sweet!”

  “No, Mara, it’s awful!”

  “Let’s go check it out again. Victor’s last moments, immortalised on my own basement wall!”

  “Mara, no! Bad Mara! Down, girl!” Neil clutched Mara about her waist and tugged her back against him when she tried to rise. Mara laughed and let herself go limp in his arms. He smiled and pulled her closer so that she sat in his lap and could lean against his shoulder.

  “Okay, all right; I’ll leave it be. Sorry for weirding you out.”

  “Sorry about your house’s history.”

  “Eh.” Mara patted Neil’s chest. “Honestly, I’m sticking to my guns. What happened a century ago is no longer important. Victor built this house. Victor died in this house. I didn’t know either of those facts when I bought it, and it didn’t bother me then, so I won’t let it bother me now.” She closed her eyes as Neil brushed stray hair out of her face. “Blackwood has nothing to do with Victor anymore. This is my house.”

  The words escaped her before she realised how closely they echoed the red-stained message in the upstairs bedroom. She shivered, and Neil pulled her closer with a gentle cooing noise. “You’re still cold. I shouldn’t have excited you like that. Just rest for a minute, my darling.”

  “Pfft.” Mara grinned at Neil. He felt good and warm and cradled her gently, and his heartbeat was steady in her ear. “I don’t need coddling. But I’ll allow it. Just this once.” She closed her eyes and enjoyed the touch of his fingers along her jaw and neck. “Love you, Neil.”

  “Love you too, Mara.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Ghost Stories

  Mara crossed her arms and scowled. “These prices are ridiculous. Can’t we just get a webcam?”

  “If we’re going to do this, we may as well do it properly. I’ll cover them.”

  She turned on Neil, ignoring how uncomfortable she was making the pimply sales assistant who hovered behind them.
“No. No more handouts, Neil. Don’t think I didn’t notice how modern and clean that generator is—your ‘friend’ wasn’t really throwing it out, was he?”

  Neil raised his hands to pacify her. “It’s fine. I’m the one who wants to install the cameras. Let me take care of it—”

  “I’m not looking for a sugar daddy. I’ll pay for them.”

  “We’ll call it your birthday present.”

  “Ah, ah!” She jabbed Neil’s chest. “No! You said working on the house would be my birthday present!”

  “Okay, make it your Christmas present, then.”

  “It’s September.”

  “I like to shop early.” Neil shrugged blithely as Mara narrowed her eyes.

  “September is way too early for Christmas shopping. Isn’t that right, Barry?”

  Barry, the sales assistant, blinked at her. “Uh, uh…”

  “C’mon, Barry; back me up here.”

  Barry’s eyes darted to the muscled, six-foot-four Neil. He swallowed. “I dunno…”

  Poor Barry. He has no idea that Neil is the safe one. Mara turned back to the row of surveillance cameras with a huff. “Well, regardless, these prices are stupid. It’s my house; I’m getting a webcam, and I’ll punch anyone who disagrees with me.”

  “Uh, sure; webcams are over here…”

  Neil went outside to make a call while Mara picked out and paid for a cheap webcam. The checkout lines were long, and it was nearly ten minutes later when she pushed out of the store and saw Neil ending his call. He smiled brightly as she approached.

  “Ready to go home?” Mara asked.

  “Actually, I was hoping we could visit someone first.” Neil opened Mara’s door despite her objections then rounded the car to get in the driver’s seat. “And before I tell you who, I want to remind you that you promised to occasionally compromise.”

  Mara squinted at him as she buckled up. “What’re you planning?”

  “I called Jenny. I didn’t tell her much, but I think she guessed we were having problems with the house. She said she didn’t want to see the building go back on the market, so she bent a few rules for us…”