The Haunting of RedRise House: Ghosts and Haunted Houses

by Clark, Caroline

  Maybe it was the book? She should close it, but before she could, she was picked off the chair and sent spiraling across the room. The force, as she hit the wall, knocked the air from her lungs. Gasping for breath she was sent back across the floor. Scraping and sliding, she slammed into the other wall hitting her head with such force that darkness began to descend.

  Once more she was picked up and thrown, only this time she could see the children in the room. She hit the wall at head height. Crushing pain lanced into her shoulder before she slid down to the floor and the noise was gone.

  The pressure eased up and she thought it was over. Yet, huddling together in the center of the room were the children. They looked just as she remembered; only now, they were frightened. They clung to each other. Wide eyes searched the corners and pleaded for her help.

  What were they afraid of?

  Chapter 14

  Panting desperately, Rosie lay on the floor and stared at the children. This couldn't be real, it just couldn't. Yet the pain in her back and arms, the pain in her head and neck told her that it was. She would be bruised tomorrow, if she made it to tomorrow.

  The children were staring towards the cellar door and she let her eyes followed theirs. The door opened and first one and then another cloaked figure came through it. The first one was tall and broad the second smaller, lighter. It was impossible to see the features and she imagined the worst. They had to be hideous beneath the hoods and she remembered the demon from the book. Was this what had come to get her? Would she join the children? To be here in this house for all eternity.

  “Matron,” the children whispered together and huddled even tighter.

  The pressure of fear pushed down on her chest, crushing her lungs. Rosie couldn't breathe. All she could do was stare at those two figures. The corner where they stood appeared darker. It was as if the very light was afraid to shine on them and it added to her fear.

  Her lungs screamed for oxygen. Her vision was going dim and her legs were too weak to hold her. Part of her knew she must escape, that she must get away from here. Yet how could she, when she couldn't even stand?

  The two figures moved into the room and threw back the hoods from their cloaks. Their faces were just as bad as the empty darkness that had been there before. Their skin was stretched tight over gaunt cheeks bones. Their eyes were sunken deep into their face. Thin lips were stretched over pointed teeth designed for ripping and tearing.

  She tried to remember a prayer and yet, nothing would come to mind as the figures turned to look at her.

  Gasping for breath, she slithered along the floor hutching away from them as efficiently as she could. Her chest ached, her lungs screamed and still she could not breathe. Panic was like the weight of a car forcing down on her chest and crushing her lungs. Until she pulled herself out from under it, she could do nothing but succumb to its devastating weight.

  Then she remembered the Lord's Prayer. The most common prayer, the one everyone knew and it gave her a touch of comfort. She was able to draw in a big breath of air and felt much better as she started to repeat it out loud.

  “Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be your name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

  The two adults let out a mighty roar and stepped toward her. Once more the pressure in the room grew and she had to stop praying and gasp for breath. It would have been so easy to just stop. To slump against the wall and to let whatever was coming come but she would not. Her eyes were drawn to the children. There was hope on their faces. Hope and encouragement and it was directed toward her.

  “Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen”

  The two cloaked figures stopped before her their faces curled into a snarl. Dark eyes pinned her to the spot. Fear snatched the very air from her lungs and she felt the room chill to freezing. A shiver ran through her and she held her breath waiting, waiting for them to do something. They stared at her. Their dark eyes shrouded in shadow. Their thin lips parted. They didn't seem to move, to breathe, they didn't seem to be alive.

  Just when she thought she could take no more the sound of her mobile ring snapped her back to normality.

  The phone’s ringing!

  The figures stood there, staring, and then with a slight upward curl of their lips, they were gone. Rosie looked for the children. They were staring at her. There was something in their eyes. Something they were trying to tell her. Before she could understand they too faded away to nothing and she was left with just the ringing of her mobile.

  Rosie fished the phone out of her pocket and pressed it to her ear. “Hello, hello,” she spoke desperately. Praying that this was real. That she finally had contact with the outside world.

  “Hi Rosie, it's Amy here sorry I missed all your calls.”

  “Amy, oh my God Amy. It is so good to hear your voice. Please, please come and pick me up straight away. There is something terrible going on here and I am so frightened. Please come get me today, now, for I do not think I will survive another night.”

  “I'm so pleased to hear you're enjoying it,” Amy answered.

  “Amy can't you hear me I'm frightened and terrified please help me.”

  “I know sometimes people can be silly but I'm pleased you're enjoying yourself,” Amy said. “I know I was supposed to be there tomorrow but I just called to say I won’t make it... oh that’s good... yes, I will only be three more days I hope you don't mind.”

  “No, no please Amy you must come collect me tonight or send someone or ring the police or anything, just get me out of here please.” Tears were running down Rosie's face as she tried to make Amy understand. It was obvious that her friend heard a completely different conversation. Maybe the spirits were interfering, maybe she was going mad but somehow she had to find a way to make Amy understand.

  “Amy!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “You have to come save me or I fear I will be dead by morning.”

  “That is fantastic. I’m so pleased you are writing again. Didn’t I tell you this house would be perfect? Now I have to go, you have fun and I will see you in three days.”

  The phone went dead in her hands. Rosie tried to call her back, then to dial the police, only she no longer had a signal. Had the spirits done this just to torment her? Or was it one more figment of her imagination. She no longer knew and yet she knew she had to get out of there.

  Making a decision, she picked up the phone and stood up. The house was deadly quiet. The air still and a little heavy. It didn't matter she was leaving and she was never coming back.

  Yet, as she made the decision... she wondered if the house would let her go.

  Chapter 15

  Rosie was surprised that it was easy to walk out of the house. She got to the door the cat meowed and seemed to be willing her onward.

  “Are you coming with me?” she asked.

  Wise orange eyes stared up at her and seemed to tell her to go and to not look back. So she opened the door and stepped out. Pausing she held it and stared back at the cat. He looked at her, looked at the outside, and then turned slowly and like the hunter he was ran back into the house.

  Rosie closed the door and set off across the driveway. Her feet crunched on the gravel and sank deep into the stones. It was hard-work, hard going and she had a long way to walk. Though only the part near the house was graveled she still knew it would take some time before she reached the road. What she needed to know was how long until she could get a signal. Then she remembered the cab driver. Maybe he hadn't been questioning her past, maybe he understood this house. She knew his number was in her mobile and as she walked she tried to dial him.

  No signal.

  Trying to keep in mind what had happened, she looked out at the countryside. The grounds of the house were really magnificent. This side, the front of the house was like a country park. Long open spaces of grasslan
d dotted with magnificent trees.

  It was very different to the back of the house, which was more sinister. A dark and dank forest surrounded the far side. Yet, as she walked down this drive the sun warmed her arms and she wondered if those things really had happened to her. Absentmindedly, she reached up to her head and felt a bruise. There were other bruises she could feel as she walked. Something had happened to her. Either she needed help or she was in trouble. It didn't matter which, she was not going back.

  Every 5 to 10 minutes she tried to ring the cab driver or the police or Amy. Each time she couldn't get a signal and so she walked on again. She had been walking for over an hour and was tired and achy and yet the countryside hadn’t changed. Surely she should have come to the main road by now. If not it had to be anytime soon.

  Stopping, she tried to phone again and once more it flashed to tell her that she had no signal. Up ahead, the drive curled around a copse of trees and she hoped that when she got to the other side she would finally reach the road and get a signal.

  As she rounded the corner she dropped to her knees and let out a wail of despair. There in front of her, less than 300 yards away was the house. Somehow she had looped the estate and was back exactly where she started.

  Sitting on her knees, she let her tears fall. It wouldn't let her leave. They wouldn't let her leave. Would she ever survive this?

  * * *

  Rosie sat at the kitchen table a tuna sandwich untouched before her. Occasionally she sipped at her tea while she read as much of the book as she could. It was hard reading. A heart-wrenching tale of joy and then desolation as the father realized exactly what he had done. What he had given up for a short time with the daughter he knew.

  The demon came to me again tonight. It had the audacity to visit the bedchamber as I tended to my dearest Mabel. The sound of her tortured breathing plays like the bellows at the blacksmith shop. Each draw of breath could be her last. I am selfish for I wish it to go on and yet I wish it to stop.

  The demon asked me if I had made a decision, and I have. I told it I would give my life and my soul to see my girl healed. For her to be healthy and to have a long and happy life before her. It was a hard decision and I know my Mabel would not want this but I cannot let her die. Not like this, not so young and not in so much pain. When I told my visitor it seemed to make the demon happy and yet there was something... some smile that I did not quite trust. I believe I am being duped and yet what can I do?

  The master paid for the physician to come and see my Mabel today. The man told me to make arrangements. What use was he? So, I wait and will see what I can do for my girl.

  The demon says he will come back tomorrow and tonight I will pray. I will ask the Lord to help me make the right decision. I will ask him to forgive me for I cannot let my baby die.

  Rosie fought back tears. One thing she had never told anyone. One thing that played on her mind and kept her awake at night was the fact that she could not have children. It was one of the reasons that Clive was always angry with her. When she found out, she told had him. In her mind she expected his support and yet he treated her as if she had betrayed him. That was when she should have really left and yet having just lost the chance to have a family she could not let go of the one person she cared about the most. Yet, this was not the time to be dwelling on her past, not if she wanted to survive, to have a future.

  Since she had been back, so far the house had been quiet and nothing else had happened. She had put all the downstairs lights on and had some tunes playing on her phone. Adele was currently singing about Rolling in the Deep. It made the house feel less empty, less threatening, and yet she knew it was just a foolish mind trick.

  Taking a sip of her tea, she made a few notes on what she had just read. It was late, past 11 at night, and yet she did not think she would sleep. The more she learned, the greater chance she had of surviving this.

  Part of her wished that Amy was here now and another part wished that her friend would stay well away. Would the spell that was on her, that prevented her from leaving this place, would it be gone when Amy turned up? Or would they both end up trapped in this hell? It tormented her mind and yet the hope and wish to see Amy kept her going.

  Rubbing her eyes she turned back to the book and began to read once more.

  Nothing really came of my prayers. It is as if the Lord has abandoned me. Maybe it is what I deserve, after all I have offered up my very soul for the safety of my Mabel.

  Now I wait, with just a single candle burning, for the demon to arrive.

  There is always a stench of rotten eggs, of sulfur, just before he appears and I can smell it now. My stomach flips, my heart pounds, I know that I should run from this beast and yet he is my only hope. This is the first time I have left my Mabel’s side in some days. Yet I do not want to do this in front of her. Part of me thinks that she would be disappointed in me and that I could not bear.

  Rosie looked up as she heard a noise. It was just the cat. It's slinked into the room and rubbed against her leg. Rosie scooped it into her arms and set it on her knee. Stroking the silky fur and feeling comforted by its presence, as she continued to read while Adele sang about Turning the Tables. It seemed appropriate.

  The smell of sulfur entered the room and then he was here. This time he made no pretense of walking through the door but simply appeared before my eyes. My heart was beating so fast I felt it may burst from my body and yet I must keep going for just a little longer.

  “What would you do to save your daughter?” the creature asked.

  A lump formed in my throat. I had to swallow before I could speak and I fear that he will think I have changed my mind. Sweat was running down my forehead as I tried to get the words out. Can I see amusement in the ugly face before me? I thought I could, and it frightens me. At last I can speak. “I will do anything,” I tell it. “I will give you anything I can, I will do anything I can. Just ask and it will be yours. If you want it, you can take my soul.”

  The Demon laughed and I felt a chill run through me.

  “I will do this for you,” he said. “I will make your girl well, I will let her live a long, long life, all I ask is for her soul.”

  I felt as if my heart has been crushed and ripped from my chest. I could almost see it in the creature’s clawed hand. It takes one last beat before he squeezes it and the very life of me runs from between its gnarled fingers. “You have asked for the one thing that I cannot give,” I tell the creature. “How can I give away a soul that is not mine?”

  “Then go to your daughter. For she will be dead within the hour. I will be listening throughout this her last night, all you have to say is, I agree, and she will live.”

  The creature was gone. It just disappeared from before my very eyes and left me with my guilt, my fear, and my tears.

  Rosie had to stop reading. The story was horrifying and she felt such sorrow for the father who had to make such a terrible decision. How could he watch his little girl die and yet how could he pay such a terrible price? She wanted to close the book, to go to sleep or even just rest, yet somehow, she knew that her life depended on the knowledge she would gain here.

  Her throat was dry and she was feeling cold. So she took a sip of tea and found it had long gone cold. While the kettle boiled, she grabbed a jumper and then made herself a fresh pot. Refreshed, she sat back down to read and learn, and hopefully to find a way to escape this place.

  As I sit by my dear Mabel's bed, her breath that was once so labored and so terrible to hear is now so faint. It is also slowing down and yet I can see the pain she is suffering. Just a few moments ago her eyes opened and pleaded with me. I do not know if they plead for life or for death and it tears my heart apart. I'm holding her hand now willing her to fight or to let go I no longer know which is for the best.

  “Help me daddy,” she pleads. “Please just make the pain go away.”

  Her skin is so pale and she gasped as I touched her forehead. I can take no more. God forgiv
e me for what I am about to do. Letting go of her hand I close my eyes and say, “I agree.”

  Chapter 16

  I agreed, I said the words and the creature appeared before me. The smile on its face was as cold as a winter's morning and it sent chills deep into my bones. Only that does not matter for it reached out and touched my Mabel and instantly her breathing eased. She is sleeping now. The lines and stress have gone from her face and her color is coming back. I know I have done the right thing and I cannot wait to hold my girl in my arms when she is healthy and strong.

  The next two pages of the journal were blank. It was as if he had left them and had intended to come back and write something else. Why had he not done so? It did not matter she had to keep reading and so she turned the page hoping that the story would have a happy ending.

  It has been two days since I made the deal and at first, I was very happy. I did not feel the need to write in this book. Or maybe I was too ashamed to do so. At first my Mabel was wonderful. She smiled so much and laughed and thanked me for all I have done. Yet, today I saw her push one of the children down the stairs. If I had not caught him, little Jeremiah would have been badly hurt. Why would my girl do such a thing? Sometimes when I look at her I wonder if she is my girl anymore. Perhaps the creature already took her soul and perhaps what he left behind is not the best of her.

  Rosie felt her chest tighten. She should have known this was coming and yet she always wanted the happy ever after. It was hardwired into her and she could not think that the story would not end well. For several days, nothing happened and Bartholomew began to relax again. His joy was short lived.

  I believe my Mabel is fighting whatever possesses her and I believe she is losing. Now, I wonder what possessed me to put my little girl through such torture. For surely, what she has become is worse than death itself. She is now a cruel child who thinks of no one but herself.