The Demonic: A Supernatural Horror Novel

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The Demonic: A Supernatural Horror Novel Page 3

by Lee Mountford


  Danni paused for a moment, as if choosing her words carefully. ‘Well, there was a fire here quite a few years ago. The only thing that survived was that ugly mill,’ she said, pointing to the cylindrical structure behind them. ‘Apparently, all the other original buildings burned down.’

  ‘So, did Grandpa build the new house?’ Alex asked.

  Danni turned to look at her son. ‘What did you call him?’

  ‘Grandpa,’ Alex said.

  Danni paused, again measuring her words. ‘He wasn’t your grandpa, Alex. You didn’t know him, so there’s no need to call him that.’

  ‘But he is, technically—’ the boy was going to go on and explain his logic, but Jon rested a hand on his shoulder, cutting him off.

  ‘Just call him Arthur, Son.’

  He looked more than a little confused, but shrugged and went along with it. ‘Okay, did Arthur build this house?’

  Danni shook her head and turned away. ‘No,’ she said, hugging herself as if to protect from the cold, ‘he didn’t. It was already built when we moved in.’

  ‘Hasn’t been very well looked after,’ Leah said, peering in through the rear entrance, which was a fully glazed, sliding, double-door set.

  ‘No,’ Danni agreed. ‘It never was. Not since my mom passed away.’

  They all fell silent. Danni still stared off into the distance, and to Jon she looked like a lost and scared child. He went to her and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her into him and kissing her on the back of her neck.

  ‘It’s going to be okay,’ he whispered to her.

  A humming noise from behind startled them all. It took Jon a moment to realise what it was; a car engine. He walked around the side of the house to see a black BMW, an older model, slowly crawl up the driveway.

  ‘Solicitor is here,’ he yelled, and his family joined him at the front of the property. Through the windshield, Jon could see the driver had a rotund face with bright red cheeks and messy red hair. Not the most professional-looking solicitor he had ever seen.

  The rest of the family watched the car slowly approach as well, all except Alex, Jon noticed. The boy had his eyes firmly fixed on an upstairs window overlooking the front of the house.

  ‘Hey,’ Jon whispered, drawing his son’s attention. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Alex said, giving his head a quick shake.

  ‘What is it?’ Jon asked, looking up to the window, but seeing nothing of interest.

  Alex paused, studying the window again, then looked away. ‘Nothing,’ he finally said.

  Jon was about to push it further, but the solicitor stopped the car and got out.

  The unkempt man walked over to Jon and held out his hand.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, in a chirpy and high-pitched voice. ‘The name is Winston Goldacre.’

  4

  ‘PLEASED TO MEET YOU ALL,’ Winston Goldacre said after shaking their hands. ‘Sorry for your loss, Mrs. Morgan,’ he added, casting a mournful glance to Danni.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, trying to hide the grimace she wanted to make as his plump, sweaty palm touched her skin. Part of her wanted to tell him not to feel bad about her father's death, that she certainly didn’t, but she felt that would have come across as needlessly cold.

  ‘When is the funeral?’ he asked, though Danni got the feeling he wasn’t asking out of genuine curiosity, but more an attempt at small talk.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ she said in reply.

  ‘Very good,’ Winston answered, running a meaty hand through the wispy remains of his red, unkempt hair, trying in vain to tame it. ‘I take it you will be staying here until then?’

  Danni nodded in response. ‘Just long enough to get everything in order and put the house on the market, then we will be going home.’

  ‘I see,’ he said, and offered a smile. ‘Not much around here to keep you anymore, I suppose?’

  Again, Danni nodded. ‘That is correct.’

  ‘Well,’ he said, clapping his hands together. ‘We have a little bit of paperwork to get through, but nothing too onerous. Should we head inside and get on with it? I can then leave the keys with you and get out of your hair.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ Danni said.

  But it didn’t sound good. She had no desire to go inside the house. Just being on its grounds was almost too much to bear. The familiarity of everything was overwhelming. Echoes of a past that she thought, hoped, had been lost to the mists of time were now forcing their way back to the surface.

  As they approached the front door, Danni took another glimpse at the mill. The place always scared her as a child, but there was one memory in particular that was vying for her attention. She remembered living here as a young girl, not long after her mother’s death; her father dragged her out here in the rain. She had pleaded with him, but he simply would not listen, acting in unreasonable anger. She couldn’t remember doing anything to cause this rage, but her punishment—he had decided—was to be locked in the mill for the night.

  She remembered being thrown inside, and the thunderous sound of the door slamming shut behind her. She heard the key turn in the lock, leaving her in complete darkness. No matter how much she kicked and begged, he would not release her. He just left her, alone and terrified. After that, all she could really remember was the fear—the rest seemed to be blocked out, just a dark void in her mind. The only clear memory after that was the next morning, when he opened the door to let her out. She didn’t speak for three days after that night.

  Growing up, she could never tell what it would take to cause her father to flip into an uncontrollable rage. It seemed so random. He could be distant and quiet one minute and a monster the next, with no warning of when the change was to come.

  Being back here, facing these memories, was an overwhelming experience, and it was taking a lot for Danni to hold everything together. She knew this would only get worse when she finally stepped inside the house she’d run away from so many years ago. As if on cue, she felt Jon slip his large hand into her own and grip it tight. She turned to him and pulled a forced smile across her lips.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she whispered so only he could hear. She didn’t believe it, though, not deep down, not now that she was here. Facing your fears and laying to rest ghosts of the past might have seemed like a healthy idea, especially back in the safety of London, but now that they were here, it just felt too real.

  Too immediate.

  And she felt too vulnerable.

  They stopped at the front door as Mr. Goldacre rummaged around in his pocket for the keys. As they waited, Danni noticed two large plant pots either side of the entrance. But whatever plants were inside had long since died, and the pot was now filled with dead leaves and swampy soil. Mr. Goldacre finally found they keys and, somewhat reluctantly, unlocked the door. He made a move to enter, but stopped, and moved aside.

  ‘Sorry, where are my manners,’ he said, and motioned for them to go ahead of him. ‘After you.’

  Danni also paused, instinctively, so Jon stepped forward instead and pushed open the door. Danni watched her husband, looking for his reaction, but there was barely any to speak of.

  ‘Could do with a clean,’ he simply said, and stepped inside. Danni realised that Leah and Alex were watching her, waiting for her to enter. She smiled at them, trying to hide her trepidation, to push it down and bury it before stepping inside herself. Jon was already a few steps ahead in the entrance hallway, inspecting his surroundings.

  As Danni crossed the threshold, she felt the weight of the dingy, grimy house fall heavily onto her. It was almost tangible.

  More memories flooded back, more feelings of unwelcome familiarity. The staircase, though dusty and now missing some spindles, was as she remembered it: made of old wood that always creaked with every other step. It led up to a first floor that seemed, even in the daytime, lost in shadows.

  There was a doorway to the right of the hallway tha
t she knew led into a large living room, and straight ahead was the door to the kitchen and dining area.

  Jon poked his head into the living room, then kept walking towards the kitchen. Danni felt her children file in behind her, and heard the click, click, click of Alex’s crutches finding purchase with the timber floor. The hallway felt oppressive, in no small part because of the low ceilings the house suffered from, and also because, other than what spilled in from the open front door, the narrow passageway was afforded no natural light.

  Danni followed Jon’s lead and looked into the living room as she passed. Some of the furniture had changed, though not necessarily for the better, as a lot of it looked second-hand and not in the best condition, but the basic layout was how she remembered it: a sofa lining the back wall, two large chairs—one close to the bay window—and a low coffee table being the centre piece of the room. There was still no T.V., and she also noticed that there were no pictures on the walls anymore, but the faded outlines of where they had once hung were still visible.

  Seeing enough, she then joined Jon in the kitchen area. It had a large dining space adjacent, to the right, that contained the same dining room table she remembered from her childhood. It was a strong piece of furniture, made of fine oak—a gift from one of her mother’s relatives. One of the few things the family owned that was worth anything.

  She remembered hiding from her father under there once, as he yelled for her to show herself. She remembered his heavy footsteps stalking through the house before he found her…

  The kitchen seemed bare, with only an old gas cooker, microwave, and toaster accompanying the old wooden kitchen units. Danni noted the lack of a washing machine, something they had never grown up with. An old mop stood isolated in the corner, the material at the bottom far too dirty to possibly clean anything.

  Mr. Goldacre moved past them all and set his briefcase down on the dining room table. He unclipped it, pulled out a bundle of papers, and placed them down onto the table’s surface.

  ‘Shall we get started?’ he asked, taking a seat.

  ‘I guess so,’ Jon said as he and Danni joined Mr. Goldacre at the table.

  ‘How long will this take?’ Leah asked.

  ‘I’m hoping no more than half an hour,’ Mr. Goldacre said.

  ‘Can we have a look around the house, then?’ Alex asked. ‘It’s not like there is anything else to do.’

  ‘Can’t you just play on your phones for a little while?’ Danni asked.

  ‘We can’t,’ Alex said, shaking his phone in his hand. ‘The signal isn’t very good here.’

  ‘And there isn’t any Wi-Fi,’ Leah added. Danni sighed and looked to Jon.

  ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘But be careful.’

  ‘It’s just a house, Dad,’ Alex said.

  ‘Yes, but we don’t know what condition it’s in. So, like I said, be careful.’

  ‘We will,’ Leah said. ‘Come on, Alex, let’s see if we inherited anything cool.’

  She walked out of the room and Alex followed.

  Click, click, click.

  Danni gave Jon a worried look.

  ‘They’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘And they’re right, you know. It is just a house.’

  But would they be fine? As a parent, Danni naturally worried about her children most of the time, but being here, in this state of mind, only made things worse. She just wanted to hold them close and never let them go. Especially Alex, who had enough to deal with in life as it was. If anything were to happen to them—any of them, including Jon—she didn’t know what she would do.

  Mr. Goldacre interrupted them with a theatrical cough. ‘If we can get down to business,’ he said, and started quickly flicking through the paperwork.

  Danni and Jon shared a confused look. To Danni, he seemed genuinely nervous. Though she couldn’t be sure, she had a feeling he was anxious just being in this house.

  What’s got you so spooked, buddy?

  ALEX FOLLOWED his sister up the stairs, hearing them creak under his weight. Leah kept glancing back over her shoulder to check on him, which was something he was used to. But he didn’t need it—he’d learned to cope with what life had thrown at him, though he would never complain about his family looking out for each other.

  They reached the top and looked around. The stairs hugged the far-left gable wall of the building, and as they got to the top they saw that the landing ran off to the right, revealing a darkened corridor lined with four doors. Directly above them on the landing, Alex saw an attic hatch, framed in the ceiling. It was chipped and cracked and had a hole in one corner, letting the absolute darkness from the void behind creep out.

  The walls seemed like they had once been painted white, or magnolia, but the colour had been tainted to a kind of dirty yellow, and they were lightly streaked with what looked like dust or dirt. Squinting, Alex thought he could even see faded handprints on the walls as well.

  ‘Arthur wasn’t big on cleaning, huh?’ he said.

  ‘Tell me about it,’ Leah replied. ‘Do you think we should call him grandpa?’

  Alex shrugged. ‘Not if Mom doesn’t want us to. I guess she’s right, we didn’t know him at all, so he doesn’t really feel like a grandpa.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said, nodding. ‘I know what you mean.’

  They progressed down the corridor, the bare floorboards creaking beneath them as they went. All the doors off the hallway were closed, and the first one they arrived at was missing a handle. Leah nudged it with her foot, and it slowly swung open, revealing a large bedroom—one without much furniture. The only thing of any note was the long window on the far wall. More handprints could be seen against the faded paint, in seemingly random patterns.

  ‘Guest room?’ Leah asked.

  ‘I think so,’ Alex said. He moved past Leah into the room while she leaned against the door frame, obviously preferring not to enter.

  ‘Feels creepy,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah,’ Alex agreed, then coughed. The whole house, but particularly the first floor, seemed to be filled with floating dust that stuck to the back of his throat. He walked to the middle of the room, but there was nothing of interest. He felt a chill run up his spine. ‘Creepy,’ he echoed, then turned to face his sister.

  That’s when he saw the old woman standing directly behind Leah.

  Her blackened mouth was pulled into a horrible smile.

  Alex screamed.

  5

  DANNI WAS up out of her chair before the sound of her child’s frightened screams had finished reverberating around the house. Jon followed, but struggled to keep pace as Danni bounded up the stairs.

  ‘What is it?’ she yelled, taking the steps two at a time. ‘Alex? Leah?’

  She ran to the right, into the corridor, and saw that only one of the doors was open. She ran into that room, thinking only of getting to her children, and saw Leah kneeling in front of Alex with her hand on his shoulder. He looked white and shaken.

  ‘What is it?’ Danni asked, running to Alex’s side.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Leah said, looking concerned. ‘He just freaked out. Are you okay?’ she asked him.

  Alex was looking past them all, into the corridor. Danni turned to follow his gaze, but saw nothing out of the ordinary, only Jon arriving to the room.

  ‘Alex,’ she said, turning his head so he looked directly at her. ‘What is it, honey?’

  ‘I…’ he said, then trailed off. She saw it in his face, he was struggling with something. ‘Nothing,’ he said eventually. ‘I thought I saw something.’

  ‘What did you see?’ Danni asked, trying to coax it out of him, but he just shook his head.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said, more firmly this time, visibly taking charge of his nerves. He straightened himself up and took a deep breath. ‘It must have been a shadow or something. Sorry, I’m probably a little jumpy.’

  Danni was conflicted. She was relieved that everything was okay, of course, as it gave her heart—which was physically trying to bea
t through her chest—a chance to calm down. But on the other hand, she felt like Alex was holding something back from her, and she knew him well enough to realise that, even though something had scared him, he wouldn’t let on as to what it was. He seemed more than a little embarrassed at the whole thing, and his pride had now kicked in, overriding whatever fear had once come over him.

  ‘You sure you’re okay, Son?’ Jon asked, setting a hand gently on his shoulder. Alex nodded.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Alex said, then Danni noticed his attention turn to the door again. She spun her head, half expecting to see what had frightened him so, but instead made out the head of Mr. Goldacre peeking around the frame.

  ‘Everything okay?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ Jon answered. ‘Nothing to worry about.’

  ‘Good,’ the solicitor replied, but Danni once again detected that nervousness, that apprehension, on his face. ‘Shall we keep going?’

  LEAH HAD SUGGESTED THAT, instead of exploring the first floor any further, it might be a good idea to go outside and walk the grounds while Mom and Dad finished off with Mr. Goldacre. Alex had no doubt that his sister had suggested this purely for his benefit, and he loved her for it. He agreed without hesitation.

  The two siblings headed outside, and their parents returned to the dining room to get on with business—though Mom didn’t seem too eager to leave them alone. Alex took in a deep breath of late afternoon air and looked to the sun, which was drawing near to the horizon.

  Being outside felt better. It was less oppressive than being in the house, less overwhelming. Alex wasn’t sure how else to describe it, but everything in there just felt… off. But he chalked that up to nerves, frazzled by his recent fright. One, he convinced himself, that had been brought on by nothing but his imagination.

  Surely the creepy old woman he had seen earlier couldn’t have been real?

  After the fright, he had wanted to tell his mother everything. When she had burst into that room to check on him he had almost started to cry, and was on the cusp of telling her just what he had seen. All in the hope that she could make it better for him.

 

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