The Demonic: A Supernatural Horror Novel

by Lee Mountford

  It was only one more night, and he had no intention of leaving. At least until morning.

  As it turned out, however, Danni wasn’t quite finished.

  No sooner had they returned to the house and entered the hallway when Danni spoke. ‘Kids, go into the living room, please. Dad and I need to talk.’

  Jon felt himself bristle. He didn’t want to talk, he wanted to be done with the whole conversation. Leah and Alex filtered quietly into the living room, and Danni walked to the kitchen. ‘A word, please,’ she said to him, her voice even but stern.

  Here we go again.

  Jon followed her, and they each took a position in the kitchen; Danni leaning against one of the kitchen units, and Jon a few feet in front of her.

  Both had their arms folded over their chests.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, resolving to keep his calm, ‘where do we start?’

  Danni took a breath, clearly trying to keep her emotions in check as well. ‘Look, I understand where you’re coming from, I really do, but everyone is miserable here. I’m not saying I believe that girl, at all, but that doesn’t change the fact that staying here is the wrong thing to do.’

  ‘Difficult doesn’t mean wrong, Danni.’

  ‘No, not always, but sometimes we need to stop and think if the difficulty is worth it. I mean, really, what are we hoping to get from staying here? I’ve come back, dealt with what had to be dealt with, and we watched them finally throw my dad into the ground. It’s done. Mission accomplished.’

  ‘So, where would we go? We can’t drive all the way home tonight, it's too late and would take too long.’

  ‘A hotel.’

  ‘And what if Leah sees a shadow there that freaks her out? Do we run away again in the middle of the night and find somewhere else? And what if she thinks she sees someone back home, in our house? Do we move, just so she doesn’t have to face up to being an adult? Is that what you are saying?’

  Danni clenched her teeth together. ‘Why are you being like this?’ she asked. ‘You know that’s not what I’m saying.’

  ‘But it is,’ he said. ‘Right now it’s this house, but it could easily be somewhere else next. All that you’re teaching them by capitulating is that the best way to solve a problem is to run away from it.’

  ‘Come on, Jon, that’s not what I’m saying at all. This is different.’

  ‘It isn’t different, Danni. It’s a perfect example of what we need to weed out of them.’

  ‘Weed out?’

  ‘Yes. I won’t have my children growing up to be cowards, to be scared of make-believe. If things get tough, they need to learn how deal with it head on. I won’t have them turn into the type of people who run away from everything.’

  That comment stung, and he saw Danni’s face twist into an angry frown. ‘What is that supposed to mean? Was that aimed at me?’

  ‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘That wasn’t what I meant.’

  ‘Bullshit. It’s exactly what you meant. Do you think I run away from everything?’

  ‘Danni, come on.’

  ‘Answer the question, Jon. Do you think that?’

  He took his time in answering. ‘You don’t run away from everything, but sometimes you don’t exactly face things head on.’

  ‘I can’t believe you,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘You think I should have just hung around here? Lived with my dad, knowing the kind of man he was?’

  ‘No,’ Jon said, steeping forward and gently taking hold of her arms. He felt her recoil slightly, but he held her firm. ‘I told you, I don’t blame you for that. But you have to admit, it’s led you to repeat that pattern in life.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Come on, Danni. Remember our first-ever argument? It was nothing, but enough for you to say we were done. You ran for the hills, remember? And that would have been it had I not fought for us and changed your mind. Running was your first instinct, to protect yourself. How about when Alex was being picked on at school? You wanted to string the bullies up, which I admired, but also wanted to move him to a different school as well. It isn’t healthy.’

  ‘So I’m a coward?’

  ‘No, but given what’s happened in your life, I think you have a tendency to look for the easiest solution. The quick way out. It’s understandable, Danni, of course it is, but we can change that.’

  Danni laughed, but it sounded bitter, and she stepped away from him. ‘There you go again,’ she said. ‘You know what? If we’re dishing out home truths, maybe you should know a few.’

  He sighed and shook his head. This ought to be good. ‘Okay then, go ahead. Get it off your chest.’

  ‘For one, you aren’t a fucking doctor or a therapist. You think you are, and you think you know how to fix everything, but the reality is that you don’t know shit.’

  He shook his head again and looked away, not taking the comment seriously. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘You’re damn right there is,’ she said. ‘I think this whole thing has less to do with trying to help me, and more about you and your ego.’

  That comment shocked him. How the hell could she think that? ‘Is that right? And why is that, Danni? Why on earth would I want to stay here any longer than I have to?’

  ‘Because you want to be seen as the one that solves everything. You like to know you’re right. You thought this would be good for me, so no matter what I think, this is what we do, because you think it’ll work. You can’t possibly imagine that you could be wrong about anything. It doesn’t even enter your fucking head. You’re so damn arrogant. And, sometimes, utterly clueless as well.’

  ‘I’m clueless, am I?’ Jon said and stepped forward. Those words stung.

  Because they weren’t fucking true. Who does she think she is?

  ‘Yes, you are. If you were any kind of man, you’d put aside your own ego and just do what’s best for your family. But you can’t, can you? It’s pathetic.’

  He walked closer, now nose to nose with her, nostrils flaring. She didn’t back down, and that, for some reason, angered him even more.

  ‘Pathetic? Really?’ His voice bubbled with rage. ‘The only thing pathetic about all of this is a grown woman believing in the boogeyman. A mother so cowardly that she’s happy to push those fantasies on to her children and doesn’t care what will happen so long as she doesn’t have to face up to things. Scared little girl who has thrown her toys out of the pram because she isn’t allowed to run away. Well boo-hoo, Danni. Grow the fuck up.’

  Jon heard the crack before he felt it. Then his face started to sting, and he realised she had slapped him.

  ‘Fuck you,’ she said, seething with rage. She stormed back into the hallway.

  ‘Running again?’ he yelled and strode after her. ‘Typical. Well, I can tell you this much, we aren’t going anywhere tonight. So deal with it.’

  She stomped up the stairs, but didn’t reply. Jon saw that tears had pooled in her eyes. He started to go up after her, furious, but stopped halfway.

  He knew pushing the matter further would only cause things to escalate, so he swallowed the rage that was building inside of him and watched her disappear down the hallway.

  A door slammed.

  With a sigh, Jon turned back to descend the stairs. As he did, he saw that both Leah and Alex were watching him from the living room door.

  And both looked scared.

  14

  ALEX WAS TROUBLED.

  He had known today was going to be hard, especially on his mother, but he never expected it to devolve into this. He could barely remember seeing his parents squabble, let alone have an all-out row. And it had gotten so bad that he’d heard his mother actually slap his father, the stinging impact even ringing out into the living room.

  After his mother had run upstairs, his father soon entered the room. Jon looked at Leah first, then to Alex.

  ‘I take it you both heard all of that?’

  Alex nodded.

  ‘And back at
the restaurant, as well,’ Leah said. ‘You two never fight.’

  ‘I know,’ Jon said. ‘Today's just a little stressful for us all.’

  ‘More so for Mom,’ Leah said, nailing her colours to the mast. ‘So why don’t we support her and just go?’

  Jon held up his hand, palm towards her. ‘Stop,’ he said, making it sound like a command. ‘I’m not going to have this argument with you as well. Understand?’

  Leah hesitated, then nodded.

  ‘Good,’ Jon said. ‘Let’s give your mother a little time. Just keep yourselves busy for a while until she comes back down. We only have another night, then we will be going home.’

  Alex understood his father’s position. It made no sense to get scared of things that weren’t real. He knew that, and he wanted to make sure his father could see it. However, seeing how his mother and sister were in this place, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t in their best interest to stay.

  Leah walked over to a single chair close to the fireplace and dropped into it. She pulled out her earbuds, tapped on her phone, and listened to music. Evidently, this was going to be her way to pass the time until their mother came back down.

  By ignoring her father and simply not speaking.

  Jon shrugged and looked to Alex. ‘Want the tablet, Son?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Jon walked from the room. Alex heard him go into the kitchen and rustle around in one of their bags. He reappeared with the tablet and a book. He handed the electrical device to Alex and they both took a seat on the sofa.

  Alex went to open one of the pre-loaded books on the device, but stopped when he saw something in the top corner of the screen—the ‘No Service’ message had changed to a single bar of signal.

  He opened his internet browser to test the strength and, though it took a while, the home page eventually loaded.

  His normal routine would have been to check the NASA website, then social media, but this time he had an urge to do something different. Though he knew none of it was real, he couldn’t say he wasn’t at least curious about Leah’s experience last night. And, if he was being honest, his own as well. He could still remember the old woman he saw yesterday.

  Thought he saw.

  And Alex was intrigued to learn a little more about Bishops Hill.

  He looked around, making sure both Leah and his father were occupied, and typed the phrase Bishops Hill into the search engine. The results page was agonisingly slow in loading, and the first link was the Wikipedia page.

  He clicked on it.

  More loading, then he was given a little information about the town: its population, when it was founded, but then there was a section that caught his eye; The Bishops Hill Murders.

  It was only a brief segment, but outlined a series of deaths in the town.

  A horrible atrocity, in a place that looked familiar.

  Intrigued, Alex clicked on one of the reference pages, one called The History of Bishops Hill. It was an old, self-made website with a plain black background and yellow text in Comic Sans font. It even had some basic, archaic animations dotted around that made the site look extremely cheesy. However, there was a section in the side bar that he clicked on, one that focused on a very particular area of Bishops Hill.

  An area that was apparently known as Dunton Farm. He read the article.

  His gut feeling was confirmed.

  It turns out there used to be farm on this land—which his mother had mentioned earlier—called Dunton Farm. And the mill that still stood was the only remnant of it. The page said the farm had been owned by the Dunton family, who were quite wealthy and well-regarded in the area. It then went on to tell of Thomas Kerr, a teenage farm-hand who was apparently unusually large for his age. In addition to that, it seemed he also had severe learning difficulties—though the description on the page was much less kind.

  It outlined the story pretty much as Wikipedia had, though there were some extra bits added; a little more in the way of legend and lore.

  The murders took place in the year 1679, when the parents of the family left their three children at home alone to attend a gathering of friends, taking a horse and cart farther into town. The Wikipedia page told, in a straightforward manner, how Kerr, who was well-known to the Dunton children—and usually teased by the middle child—killed each of them in turn with an axe.

  It also described his conviction and execution: placed in a gibbet cage, suspended from a tall post and left to die and rot. His body on show for people of the town to see.

  This website, however, was put together by a local man who had access to historical records of the event, or so he claimed. He went into detail of how Thomas Kerr heard a voice that night, a voice that insisted he kill the children.

  A voice he obeyed.

  Grabbing an axe, he chased them around the house. They fled from him, screaming for their lives, and ran into a bedroom.

  Once inside, they tried to barricade the door. Kerr, however, set to work on it with the axe, chopping and wearing down the door’s integrity. As he was about to get through, the eldest child, Alice—supposedly a golden-haired girl of fifteen—threw herself against the door to try to block his entry. The axe again came down again, splintering more wood. As it finished its swing, it buried itself into her arm at the wrist, lopping off her hand.

  Kerr then forced his way inside and threw Alice to the ground. The middle child, Andrew, attacked Thomas, but was easily overpowered. Kerr struck him with the handle of the axe, supposedly giving off a sickening crack as the wood connected with his skull, fracturing it. The large teenager then got to work on the two prone children, hacking at their bodies, paying specific attention to their heads and neck until whatever was left was unrecognisable.

  Then he turned his attention to the youngest, Ellie, who was hiding under a bed. She begged and pleaded for her life.

  According to what was written, Ellie and Thomas Kerr were actually friendly with each other prior to that night.

  This friendship, and her pleading, seemed to snap the young man from his trance.

  He began to walk away from his terrible deed, however something appeared before him.

  Alex had to read this part twice.

  A monster.

  A horrible, inhuman thing.

  Thomas Kerr assumed it to be the Devil himself.

  And, it seemed, the Devil was not about to let Thomas Kerr end the bloodletting just yet. It spoke.

  Go back, thou hateful wretch, resume thy cursed knife. I long to view more blood, spare not the young one's life.

  And, again, Thomas Kerr obeyed.

  Poor little Ellie Dunton was slain.

  The parents returned home later that evening and found Kerr outside, sitting on a log. He was covered in blood and mumbling incoherently to himself. The parents instantly knew something was wrong, and when the mother confronted Thomas, he simply said he’d done what he had to in order to save his soul.

  The parents then found their children.

  The authorities were summoned and Kerr went along without resistance, showing remorse only for the death of little Ellie.

  He was quickly tried and executed, living out his final days trapped in a metal cage on show for all to see who cared to look. He suffered from starvation, exposure, and even the ceaselessly pecking beaks of the crows that feasted on his flesh.

  The bodies of the children were laid to rest at a church in Bishops Hill, St. Peters. The website also said that, supposedly, the remains of Thomas Kerr were also put to rest in the same cemetery in an unmarked grave.

  These weren’t the only murders to take place at the site, either. After the Kerr murders, the farm cycled through a number of owners until it became abandoned, left to rot and ruin. Then, starting in 1866, a number of people in the area began to go missing. It wasn’t until the abandoned farm was fully searched over a year later that locals found a most horrific sight. Bodies in all stages of decomposition, hidden in one of the bar
ns. A local woman named Margaret Hobbes was hiding out in there, alive and well.

  Upon further questioning, she said that she had been forced from her home, running from an abusive spouse and taking shelter in the only place she could find. Then, once at the farm, she swore she had begun to see and hear strange things. Things that got into her head and made sinister promises in exchange for her soul.

  And she obeyed.

  She would lure men back with promises of sex and poison them with arsenic. But the bodies found were not all adults. She eventually confessed to kidnapping children, too, and not just with poison. Some of the killings were much more… intimate.

  All, apparently, at the command of a demonic presence she encountered at the farm.

  She was apprehended by a large group of locals. After finding the bodies—hidden in the attic—the locals were enraged. Overcome by mob-mentality, they set fire to the buildings, all that would take hold, and scorched them from the earth.

  It was said the mill would not catch light, but with the other buildings all satisfactorily ablaze the mob felt their work was done.

  Margaret Hobbes was hanged in 1867.

  The site remained abandoned until bought by an out-of-towner in the early 1900s. He built again on the plot, but didn’t remain there long, and it changed hands many times over the years, though records of this were not available on the website.

  Alex let himself sink further into his sofa. All of that was simply superstition, of course. Stories told to excuse violent and evil acts. That much he was certain of.

  There was no such thing as demons.

  His father had to be right about that.

  But even so, knowing the land that his mother grew up on had such a tainted history was surprising, to say the very least. He wondered if his mother knew about this sordid past.

  Alex scrolled farther down the page to see scans of old pictures at the bottom. Some were of the original buildings, some of the aftermath of the fire.

  And there was one of Margaret Hobbes.

  Upon seeing it, his blood ran cold.