“Ma passed last June,” Vera said. “My sisters… well, I don’t think they’d understand.”
“We’re so sorry for your loss,” Doug said after a long pause. Demi blinked, realizing it hadn’t occurred to her to say the same. She’d taken a lot of lives during her time in the army—enemies, prisoners, even her own comrades. More than she could count, not that she had ever dared to try. She wondered if any of them had left behind families that grieved them.
“I lost her long before that,” Pa said with a sigh.
“Dementia,” Vera said. “One day she forgot where she put her glasses, and then it was all downhill from there. It hit her hard and fast.”
“I’d wake up at night, and she’d be gone,” Pa said. “I’d find her standing right here, staring up at her old bedroom window, crying inconsolably. ‘Why am I here?’ she would ask. ‘You have to take me away from here.’ I couldn’t stand seeing her like that. Her passing… well, it was a mercy. She was suffering, and there was just nothing I could do to ease her pain.”
“Only… we don’t think she passed,” Vera said, her eyes flashing to the old house. “We think she might have gotten stuck on the way to… well, whatever comes next.”
“What have you noticed?” Cynthia asked.
“The house gets cold sometimes,” Pa said. “And I get this feeling like someone’s watching me. I hear Susie’s voice in the next room, but when I get there, nothing. Other times I could swear I see her standing out in front of the house. I come running every time, but I’m never fast enough. Susie always kept our wedding photos in a drawer in the living room, but I keep finding them on the coffee table, like she was just leafing through them. I thought I was losing my mind, until I told Vera.”
“How about a little girl in the window up there?” Demi asked, pointing to the old house.
“No,” Vera said. “That’s a new one.”
“That was Susie’s old bedroom,” Pa said. “That’s where she would stand, looking out at the world.”
“You and Doug should go take a look,” Cynthia said, looking to Demi.
“Just us?” Demi asked. “How are we supposed to figure out if this place is haunted?”
Cynthia held up a hand and closed her eyes for a moment. “Oh, it’s definitely haunted,” she said, opening her eyes. “But you have to learn to do this without our help.”
“You some sort of psychic or something?” Pa asked, giving Cynthia a quizzical look.
“Something like that,” Cynthia said, holding out a rectangular device to Demi. “You know what to do.”
“An EMF reader,” Demi said with a sigh. “Not as convenient as having a witch wave her hands, but where’s the fun in that? Does the house still have power?” Demi asked. She and Doug eyed the tall grass around the old structure.
“We had it shut off years ago,” Pa said. “I don’t think anyone’s set foot in there since.”
“Great,” Doug said. “Guess we’ll have to watch our step. How did we get suckered into this?” he whispered to Demi while they pushed their way through the thick, dry weeds.
“I know you like drooling at Cynthia when she isn’t looking—which she totally knows about, by the way,” Demi said. “But you heard her. They’re taking off as soon as this case is over. You don’t have to keep hunting if you don’t want, but I’ve got nothing else, so I want to be able to do it solo.”
“Relax,” Doug said. They reached the porch, and weathered boards creaked beneath their feet, sometimes sinking noticeably. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got your back, partner. But let me ask you something. Before she leaves, what do you think the chances are of me and Cynthia—?”
“Zero,” Demi said, pulling the front door open. “It’s definitely zero. She’s never hooking up with you, Seabiscuit.”
“Stop calling me that,” Doug said. “You don’t always have to be so mean.”
“Don’t I?” Demi said with a shrug, holding up a flashlight in one hand and the EMF reader in the other. “Got a little activity here,” she said when the screen lit up inside the foyer. “Not enough to scream haunted, but a little suspicious.”
“The place gives me the creeps,” Doug said. The floorboards were covered in so much dust that Demi couldn’t make out the natural color of the hardwood flooring. To their right was a large parlor, complete with furnishings. Black and white photographs hung on the walls, and an antique television sat in the corner, cobwebs spun between its rabbit-eared antennae. To their left, a staircase climbed up to the second floor. Straight ahead, the hall led to what Demi guessed was the kitchen.
“I’ll check upstairs, you take the main level,” Demi said.
“Oh,” Doug said, pulling out his own EMF reader. “We’re doing the whole splitting-up thing again. It’s just that… yeah it’s never really worked out before.”
“You scared?” Demi said, arching an eyebrow.
“I mean, yeah,” Doug said. “But whatever, it’s cool. You get the upstairs and I’ll get the downstairs. But no way in hell am I doing the basement alone. Not again.”
“Grab your blanket from the car, and I’ll get you some warm milk,” Demi said. She rolled her eyes and headed upstairs. The steps were cut from solid wood, so sturdily constructed that they barely creaked even after all these years. The second level had a simple layout—a short, rectangular hallway with a single door on each side. The stairs gave a slight creak behind her, and Demi spun around and drew her gun, tucking the EMF reader beneath her arm.
“Easy, girl,” Vera said, holding her hands up in surrender. Demi holstered her weapon. “I just thought the two of you could use a little backup. The old house was always off limits when we were growing up, but that didn’t bother us none. Lost my virginity in that room there,” she said, pointing to the door on the right. She turned towards the next door, the only one shut tight. “This one here was Ma’s room.”
“I can see that,” Demi said as the EMF readings spiked. “First rule of hunting… don’t sneak up on people with guns.”
“That’s the first rule of a lotta things,” Vera said with a chuckle. “So what does that little box tell you?”
“That there’s an electromagnetic field close by,” Demi said. “A lot of things can trigger it, especially electricity. Don’t suppose there are any live powerlines nearby?”
“Like Pa said, the house has been dead for decades. Ma had the powerlines rerouted to the new house when they built it, so this place isn’t even on the grid.”
“I’m getting a pretty high reading,” Demi said. “Unless you’ve got a computer lab set up in there, this is definitely looking like a haunting.”
“After you then,” Vera said, gesturing to the door. Demi gripped the dusty brass knob and turned.
“Weird,” she said when it didn’t open. “It’s locked. Pay attention to this next part if you want to learn how to kick down a door.”
“Hold your horses,” Vera said, handing her an old keyring with at least a dozen old skeleton keys. “Try that one there on top.”
“I was kinda looking forward to kicking down the door, but this works too,” Demi said, taking the proffered key and sliding it into the slot beneath the doorknob. It took a few tries at shifting the oversized key inside the lock before it finally caught on something. “Almost got it,” she said, forcing the key to turn the rest of the way. The lock clicked, and the air went cold. Demi pushed the door open, but it slid only a few inches before it hit something heavy on the opposite side.
“What now?” Vera asked.
“It feels like someone moved some furniture against the door,” Demi said, shining her flashlight through the gap. “Looks like a desk or something.”
“Good thing you didn’t kick it down,” Vera said.
“Yeah, yeah. Just help me.” Demi pressed her shoulder against the door as hard as she could. Vera joined her, and together they slowly pushed the door open wide enough for Demi to slip through the gap. To her surprise, the door slammed shut b
ehind her, leaving Vera out in the hall.
“What the hell?” Demi said, and her flashlight suddenly flickered out, plunging her into near-darkness. The only light in the room shone through a single window—the same window Demi had seen the little girl in. “All right, listen up,” Demi said, speaking into the shadows. “You better be a ghost, otherwise I’ll kill you myself.
“Not the talking kind?” Demi asked, making her way towards the window to call out to Cynthia and Mariela below. “That’s great.” She leaned forward, tugging at the window. It seemed stuck, and she rested her palms on the windowsill for a moment. She sighed and looked out onto the driveway below, where Cynthia seemed to be having a conversation with Pa. Her eyes darted to her reflection, and she blinked at an image that wasn’t her own.
Her first instinct was to spin to face whoever was behind her, but she found herself frozen in place. Something struck her across the face, hard and liquid, like a wall of water. She stumbled back from the window, falling backwards against a twin-sized Edwardian bed. The room was filled with light now, and Demi stood up to find the dingy space clean and inviting. The hardwood floors were well-scrubbed, and the walls were painted with red and purple lilies. The room was actually quite narrow, one tall wall rising up to the ceiling, while the opposite wall followed the slope of the roof, opening up in the middle where the window provided natural light. Colorful dresses hung on a rack in the corner, and a small, green door was built into the wall next to the bed, presumably allowing access to the attic crawlspace.
“What the hell?” Demi muttered, pulling herself upright. She shuffled towards a mirror hanging from the wall, and she found herself staring into the face of a blonde girl in her very early teens. She had a narrow face, and her eyes and nose were almost an exact match for Vera. “Okay, this is weird,” she said, tugging at the door only to find that it was still locked.
“Knock-knock!” Demi shouted. “Someone get this door open before I break it down.” She glanced at the hinges and realized they were on the inside of the door, so kicking it down wouldn’t be very easy. The door was also solid wood, so breaking through it wasn’t exactly an option. She briefly considered shooting the lock, but her gun was no longer at her hip and that was probably a dumb idea anyway. Her clothes were gone altogether, replaced by a simple homespun dress.
The door suddenly rattled, and a key turned from the other side. “It’s about time,” Demi said. A tall woman hurried into the room. She vaguely resembled Vera, but her face was leaner, her posture rigid and straight. “You godless wretch,” the woman said, shaking her head in disgust.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Demi said, pushing past the woman on her way to the door. She winced, feeling a sharp pressure on her wrist as the woman grabbed her, spinning her towards the bed.
“Blasphemy,” the woman spat, shoving Demi onto the bed. She kicked and writhed with all her strength, but this tiny body wasn’t her own, and the woman was far stronger than she appeared. Demi felt the hems of her dress rise up, and the woman struck her viciously across her backside. “I warned you before!” she hissed. “I warned you about being so willful and—”
“Lorraine,” a deep voice growled, and the woman fell silent, quickly pulling away from Demi. A man in a flannel shirt and denim overalls entered the room. He was taller than Doug, with broad shoulders and short-cropped hair. “What are you doing?”
“Harold,” she said, gasping for breath as if the air was vanishing from the room. “I… I… I…”
“Get out,” Harold said, his voice low, almost a whisper. Lorraine fled towards the door, but Harold grabbed her by the arm before she could escape. “You know I handle the discipline in this house.”
“Y-yes,” Lorraine said, nodding her head earnestly. “Yes, I’m sorry. Please, just—”
“I’ll deal with you later,” he said, releasing her. Without another word, she darted out of sight, closing the door firmly behind her. Demi didn’t hear any footsteps fading away though, and she suspected Lorraine was still lurking just outside the door, perhaps even watching them through the keyhole.
“I’m sorry about that, darlin’,” Harold said, kneeling down on the floor at the foot of the bed. “You know how your ma is. She wants to protect you. It’s a hard world out there, harder still for a pretty little flower like you.”
“That’s why you keep me here,” Demi said, remembering what Vera and her Pa had said about Susie’s childhood. “That’s why we only go out on Sundays.”
“We shouldn’t go out even then,” Harold insisted. “Your mother thinks you need God in your life—that everyone needs God. What did God ever do for us? I’ve seen a lot of things in my life, but I ain’t never seen the Lord do no one not a lick of good. That’s why I’m here… to keep you safe.”
“Safe?” Demi whispered. Even kneeling on the floor while she sat on the bed, he towered over her, his shadow engulfing her as he moved closer. “What do you—?”
“That’s enough talking,” he said, pressing a hand over her mouth and shoving her back down on the bed. She felt a hand crawl up her dress, and he pressed down on her with all his weight. Then suddenly the pressure was gone, and she shot up with a gasp, only to find herself covered in dust. Vera, Doug, and Mariela stood over her. Cynthia was at her side, holding Demi’s hand.
She leapt up from the bed, panting. “What the hell was that?” Demi said. “I was here… but not here.”
“Relax,” Cynthia said. “Something pulled you into the Veil.”
“The Veil?” Demi asked. “That’s where you said spirits get trapped and become ghosts. How could I have crossed over there?”
“I was wrong,” Cynthia said. “I shouldn’t have let you come in by yourself.”
“Hold on,” Demi said. “That might have been a pretty close call, but I can handle myself. I would have figured it out with or without you.”
“No,” Cynthia said absently. “That’s not what I mean. This house is haunted, that much is sure. But I just assumed it was Susie.”
“Who says it’s not?” Demi asked. “I saw her looking out the window when we pulled up.”
“And Pa and I have seen her too,” Vera said. “What exactly are you saying?”
“Susie’s ghost may be trapped here,” Cynthia said. “But that’s not the only presence I feel. She may not be here willingly.”
“There was a woman,” Demi said. “Blonde, face like she just sucked a lemon. Called me a godless wretch.”
“That’s putting it nicely, actually,” Doug said. “Just imagine if she’d gotten to know you.”
“Shut up, Secretariat,” Demi said, shaking her head before thinking back on her strange episode. “Her name was Lorraine. And there was a man… Harold.”
“My grandparents,” Vera said. “Ma’s folks. They died before I was born, but those were their names.”
“They thought I was Susie,” Demi said. “And I guess I was. It seemed like they were keeping her locked in her room. I was getting some pretty creepy vibes. Let’s just say you had a funny grandpa, if you know what I mean. He… well you don’t want to know.”
“I suspected,” Vera said with a sigh, her blue eyes darting to the window where Susie had once spent so much time looking out at the world. It would have been an endless sea of dirt once, before the new house was erected. Demi couldn’t imagine anything lonelier. “I handle sex crimes, and I saw some signs, especially after her mind started to go. The crying at night, the way she looked at the old house like something was going to rush out and snatch us up. If Pa even raised her voice to her, she would get in the car and disappear for days at a time. I never thought much of it when I was a kid, but what do kids know?”
“I think your grandfather’s ghost may be haunting this house,” Cynthia said, her voice solemn and low. “And he’s keeping your mother trapped here.”
Without warning, the door to the room slammed shut again, and the storm shutters on the window rattled open and closed. A deep chill
fell over the room. “Go,” Cynthia said, her eyes flashing towards Demi. “Get out of here.”
“I make the rules in this house,” a familiar deep voice growled, and the man she’d seen in the Veil appeared in the corner near the small crawlspace door. He was wearing the same clothes as in the Veil, but his skin was pale and rotting. This wasn’t her first ghost, but it was her first time seeing one that seemed so corporeal.
“You’re trying to take her away from me,” Harold roared, waving a hand wildly. Vera and Doug flew off their feet and landed in a heap on the other end of the room, and Harold grabbed Demi by the throat with one hand, raising her up off her feet. His fingers were freezing cold, like icicles boring into her flesh.
“Put her down, spirit,” Cynthia said, raising her hand towards the spectral dirt farmer. “Go back where you came from.”
“What did you do to my Ma?” Vera demanded, firing her sidearm at the specter from the floor. The bullet passed through, splintering the trim around the crawlspace door.
“I won’t let you take her from me!” Harold cried, thrusting his free hand towards Cynthia. The witch held her ground for a moment, then flew across the room. Her back struck the far wall before she fell forward on top of Vera and Doug.
“Come stay with us,” a small voice said, and suddenly Demi was back in that distant time when this room had actually been cheery and bright, if in fact it ever had. The little blonde girl whose form Demi had briefly taken stood at Harold’s side, staring up at her while she dangled aloft. “It’s quiet here, and I’d like someone to play with. Pa won’t hurt you, as long as you’re good. Mama… Mama will hurt you for nothin’. Best stay clear of her.”
“Demi!” a voice shouted, and suddenly the room shifted out of focus, abruptly returning to the dust-ridden husk Demi knew it to be. Harold tightened his grip around her throat, and her vision began to go spotty around the edges. But her eyes darted to where Mariela stood, waving something in the air. Without further explanation, the young witch tossed whatever it was in her direction, and Demi’s arm shot out to catch it. She felt her fingers close around cold wrought iron, and she swung the metal bar at her attacker.
Demi Mondaine: Volume One Page 5
