A Whispered Darkness

by Vanessa Barger

  “Are you having another breakdown, Claire? I know this has been hard. You wouldn’t normally do these kinds of things. Maybe I should call Dr. Hanover and see if he’ll come out.”

  Haven made a strangled noise behind me, one of his hands resting on my waist. “Mrs. Mallory, I stayed with her to keep her company because she was upset. I didn’t mean to cause problems. It won’t happen again.”

  “Whatever your excuse is, I think it’s time you head home now, young man.”

  I reached behind and squeezed his hand when he didn’t answer right away. Tension thrummed through his body, I could feel it in the arm he had around my waist.

  “All right. I’ll see you later, Claire.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my cheek, whispering, “Call me. I’ll have my cell again. If not, I’ll see you at school.”

  “Not likely,” Mom murmured as he headed out the door. “You aren’t going to be seeing him again if I can help it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I drew a deep breath, my throat ached with the urge to yell. “Not fair.”

  “Since when did fair come into play with us, Claire?” Her voice grew louder. “Your father cheating, being kicked out of our home, your brother fighting me at every turn: none of it is fair. Why should life be any different for you? Your trip to the asylum wasn’t easy on any of us, you know. It’s affected far more than you realize.”

  I stumbled backward, searching her face. The entity was gone again, mostly. This was all Mom. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Mom, I don’t—”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know, I don’t want to hear it. I’ve put up with enough from both of you. If you can’t keep it together, I really am going to have you evaluated again.”

  It hurt more than I thought. Mom and Grant had been the only ones to believe me when I said I wasn’t nuts. Now, it seemed Mom had been holding out. Though I tried to tell myself it was the influence of the things in the house, it didn’t matter. For her response to be so forceful meant she had to have thought it at some point.

  “You were thrilled when Bryan showed an interest in me.” I swallowed back tears. “Why is Haven any different?”

  “Because I’ve heard disturbing rumors about him.” She waved a hand. “And he’s as crazy as you, thinking he can see the future. This isn’t up for discussion. You need to get ready for school. I have to get things done around here if we’re going to have guests.”

  A slight frown creased her brow, and her eyes flicked around the room as if seeing it for the first time after a long absence. “When did you and your brother move all the furniture in here?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but she shook her head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” Confusion and worry made the lines around her eyes deeper. I wondered how much of her mind was tied into the spirit, and how much she’d missed because of her possession.

  “Go get your bag, Claire. We’re done with this conversation.”

  I sighed, and headed to my room. On the way, the dark shadow that opened the back room door appeared again, pointing. I glanced over my shoulder, but Mom hadn’t left the living room yet.

  “What?”

  Look inside. It has answers you need.

  The spirit disappeared again, and I continued upstairs, not daring to turn around again. I needed in that room and I had to do it without Mom in the house. Grant emerged from his room, a sullen expression on his face.

  “Grant, when we get to school we need to talk.”

  “Okay. ’Cause that’s not at all vague and creepy.”

  “It’ll cause problems for Mom. Does it help?”

  He started down the stairs. “Count me in.”

  We rode to school in silence. Mom barely spoke, her gaze focused straight ahead. She was back to being the same stranger she’d been for months, her brief return over with. I wondered what function it had served, other than to wound me.

  I doubted it needed any other reason.

  We jumped out, barely shutting the doors before she shot out of the parking lot. Grant turned to me, adjusting his overstuffed book bag on his shoulders. “Well? What do you want that we couldn’t discuss at home?”

  “Lose the attitude, man. I didn’t plan on making her a raving bitch this morning.” When he raised an eyebrow, I rolled my eyes. “And we didn’t do anything. You could’ve warned us when you came in last night.”

  Grant shrugged. “You looked peaceful. I figured you should get sleep while you can.”

  “Can you create a distraction today?”

  “Of what variety?”

  “Anything that will require Mom to have to come to school. And won’t get you kicked out permanently.”

  His eyes lit. “I can manage that. When?”

  I checked my watch. “Halfway through second period. I’ll get Haven to take me home.”

  Grant gave me a mock salute. “Will do. Can I ask why?”

  “Think about it, Grant. Mom has gone out every day to help with the search for Haven’s mother. She hates Haven. That means she wants her. Now, suddenly, she’ll be home all day.” I swallowed. “I think she’s already found her.”

  He didn’t need to know about the ghost and the room. It would only worry him.

  “I hadn’t thought about it, but you’re right.” Concern creased his brow. “Be careful, and make sure you have your phone in your pocket. Don’t be stupid.”

  I batted my eyes. “Why Grant, what would make you think I’d do something stupid?”

  “Yeah, innocent you aren’t. I have to go talk to Carlos and see what we can come up with for a distraction. See you later!”

  I pulled out my cell phone, typing in a text asking if Haven had come. I’m sure his grandmother pushed him out the door at this point. If I were him, I’d rather be at school waiting for word than sitting at home with her.

  The answer was instant.

  Waiting outside the library.

  I went inside and made a beeline for the library, which was right across from the entrance. Haven leaned against one of the large columns in front, his face drawn in deep thought.

  “Hey.”

  He straightened, reached out, and pulled me against his chest. “Hello. How are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He kissed me, at least until the librarian walked by and cleared her throat.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Caynor.” Haven grinned.

  She waved and shook her head.

  “I’m sorry about this morning, Claire. I hope you weren’t in too much trouble?”

  “No more than normal, really. Don’t worry about it.” I ignored the nerves dancing in my stomach. “But I know how you can make it up to me.”

  “What?”

  “I need a ride after first period.”

  He struck a dramatic pose, his hand covering his heart. “Claire! Me? Skip class? You are such a bad influence.”

  I smacked his shoulder. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t want your grandmother to be disappointed in me.”

  He pursed his lips. “I heard. Another thing I have to apologize for. My grandmother is not the easiest of people to get along with.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it isn’t. Luckily, it’s senior year, so I only have to deal with her for the next couple months. Once I graduate, I’m out of there.” He linked hands with me.

  “Have you heard anything else about your mom?”

  He shook his head, the sadness returned to his face. “No. The sheriff’s department and the people who volunteered have covered all the territory they can think of. Other than the coat, no one has found anything. They’re hoping someone picked her up and she’ll be found in another town close by.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  We stood in silence, and my nerves grew more insistent. I hadn’t planned on telling him what I intended, but the more I thought about it, the more certain I became.
/>   “Why are we leaving after first block?” Haven asked.

  “Because I think I might know where your mom is.”

  His entire body froze, mid-step, and went stiff as a board. “What?”

  “Think about it. We found the jacket between our houses. My mom has been going out on the search parties all week. Until today.”

  “You think she’s in the house.”

  I pulled him to the side outside the classroom. “Look me in the eye and tell me you hadn’t suspected she was headed for the house all along.”

  He met my gaze, then looked away. “I’m going in with you.”

  “No, you’re not. Grant is creating a distraction during second period so mom will have to leave the house. You’re going to be my look out while I go in and hunt for her.” I didn’t mention the ghost who would unlock the door to another room for me.

  “But—”

  “No buts. This is how it’s going to work. We can’t both be inside, and you need to be outside, waiting for her. Chances are good she’s going to come running out and she needs a familiar face ready for her outside.”

  He shivered, and a frown creased his brow. “I don’t like it.”

  “You don’t have to. Will you help?”

  “Of course. You just make sure both of you come out.”

  ***

  By the time the bell rang to end first period, I had fidgeted so much the teacher stopped me on the way out to ask if everything was okay. I managed what I hoped was a convincing yes and slid out the door, where Haven waited in the hall. Bryan had been there, but didn’t so much as glanced in my direction. It suited me fine. I still didn’t know whether to be angry or afraid of him.

  “Do you know what Grant’s got planned for his distraction?” I asked. Grant had answered none of my texts during class.

  Haven rubbed his nose and looked away. “Do you?”

  “I wouldn’t be asking if I did.”

  He relaxed. “Let’s leave it like that.”

  “Wait—is it that bad?” I looked back to the math hall, where Grant should be headed next. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

  Haven grabbed my hand and tugged. “He’ll probably get suspended for a couple days, but no one will get seriously hurt.”

  “I don’t like the way you said seriously hurt.”

  We exited the doors, and I released a long breath. With all the sneaking around we’d been doing, I should have been used to the sensation of breaking the rules. But it tied my stomach in knots.

  “We’ve got to park at your house and walk to mine,” I said, climbing into the car.

  Haven didn’t waste any time getting there. We parked, jumped out of the car, and headed straight for the woods. Luckily, his grandmother didn’t come out before we made our way into the brush. We could explain later.

  A few minutes later, we crouched behind two large holly bushes and watched the house.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  I pulled my coat closer. “Yes. Now stop asking me. This should be easy. If your mom comes out, make sure you stop her before she gets lost again.”

  “She might run, Claire. She might not even recognize me. The house drove her to the brink of madness once. It wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge.”

  “Go after her. Don’t wait on me. It’s my home, after all.”

  A door slammed and we watched Mom stomp down the steps, get into the car, and fishtail out of the driveway.

  “Here we go.” I pushed to my feet.

  Haven grabbed my lapel and pulled me to his chest for a quick kiss. “Be fast, and don’t do anything stupid.”

  I winked. “Who, me?”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  When I opened the door, it was like I’d walked into another dimension. Every noise was muffled, as if wrapped in cotton. I crept to the door of the back room, resting my hand on the doorknob. The brass held a faint chill which had nothing to do with fall.

  “All right, whoever you are. A little help?”

  The metal warmed slightly, the lock clicked, and the knob turned under my fingers. I jumped, whispered a thank you and pushed my way inside.

  A path had been cleared out of the piles of junk and boxes to an old desk Mom had polished until it shone. Every item on the surface was neat as a pin and placed just so. The rest of the room was in a jumble, but the piles were stacked neatly.

  I sat at the chair, unsure where to begin. A manila folder rested to the side, and I opened it. A list of names in long, curling script flowed down the yellowed paper. The ink had faded in spots, but next to some names, I recognized a plus sign.

  I didn’t know what it meant.

  Beneath it, a water stained photo with yellow tape stuck to one edge caught my eye. I lifted it, bringing it close in the dim light. Ernest Livingston stood in the center, looking sullen. Beside him, seated in a chair, sat a willowy thin woman with light hair. Despite the stoic faces around her, she seemed to exude a sense of acceptance, if not peace. On the left, one hand tucked into the front of his dark waistcoat like Napoleon, stood a man. His features were craggy, with no hint of softness. Thick sideburns made the effect even more menacing.

  Instantly, I knew it was Horace Gunderson. I put the photo to the side, before going back to the list of names. At the bottom, my mouth went dry. My name, in neat letters, along with Mom, Haven, Haven’s mother, and Grant, were all penned in with plus signs.

  Not plus signs. A voice whispered.

  Crosses.

  The list marked the dead. I dropped it as if it burned my fingertips and began to search through the drawers. Everything was placed so particularly, I didn’t touch very much. Mom had never been so neat. This was an office. I paused, mentally superimposing Horace’s face over Mom’s. That had to be the answer. He was the one possessing her. I renewed my search, being less careful, though I still tried to keep from messing everything up. Frustration made me grit my teeth. In the last drawer, stuck to the side, was a folded letter. I pulled it out and started to open it. A thud echoed through the house.

  A sense of foreboding made sweat pop out on my brow and I threw the photo and list back into the folder, tapping it on the desk to straighten everything. A smaller piece of paper popped out, as if pulled by unseen hands. It floated to the floor, and I put the stack back on the desk before picking it up.

  Another list, but this time, there were names and abbreviations. Some had lines drawn through them, some had the letters after the named scribbled out and changed. Others had stars marked.

  I ran a finger down the list.

  Ernest Levingworth – TLP

  Julia Sampson – TLK – N/A

  Margaret Elliot – MD ***

  My brow furrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Look at the back.

  I jumped at the whisper, but nothing about it was like the others. I flipped the page over and my heart pounded harder.

  Claire Mallory – MD, TLP *****

  The script was the strange mix of Mom’s and the foreign loops and coils. This had been written a while ago. Everything she wrote now was completely in that unfamiliar, old-fashioned hand.

  I looked around me. “What do the letters mean? I don’t have time to figure this out!”

  It seemed like I heard an annoyed sigh, followed by another reluctant whisper.

  MD – Medium.

  I looked at the list of names and my eyes widened. This place collected psychics. MD meant medium. TLP could be telepathic. Some were marked TLK—telekinetic. Horace was doing experiments on psychics. It all made sense now.

  Another thump and a faint moan brought me to the present. I shoved the letter and list in my pocket and closed all the drawers before heading for the door. As I opened it wide to leave, light caught the edge of a stack of photos in a box near the door. I lifted it, drawn to see what they held.

  Many were of the inmates in various places in the house. Some were sad.
Most were obviously propaganda designed to make it look like a summer retreat rather than a prison.

  Two made me gasp. One was of the willowy beauty, her belly round with child, smiling up at someone who looked so much like Haven, I had to search for the differences.

  The other had the woman standing with a man in a formal portrait. They both looked unhappy. But what brought more goose bumps to my arms was that it looked like Bryan.

  Hurry!

  A voice whispered, and I folded the two photos up and shoved those in my pockets. Then I slipped out and pulled the door shut. My heart pounded as my mind tried to wrap itself around the significance of what I’d found.

  I crept upstairs, forcing myself to breathe. Any moment, I was certain one of the spirits would sound an alarm. Silence reigned, both psychically and physically.

  The third floor brought a new kind of stillness. The moment I stepped off the stairs and into the hallway, pressure pushed against me. In my mind, spirits wavered and waited behind closed doors. My stomach tightened. There were more now. More of them than ever before. How many had been tortured? Their gifts were why he’d brought them here and what made them so powerful in death.

  I rubbed my ears, feeling like I should be popping them. Pausing at each to listen, I made my way past the doors. No sound emerged, not even the normal creaks and groans of an old house. I tested each door knob. All were locked tight.

  I got all the way to the end and found nothing. Fisting my hands on my hips, I studied the expanse of wood floor in front of me. She was here. I knew it. I’d felt her presence—briefly, but it had been there.

  Which meant the spirits in the house hid her from me. So close to Halloween, I had no chance of overpowering them myself. I needed to look for her with my power alone.

  Sweat dampened my palms and I rubbed them on my jeans. Once I started this, I had to be fast. Mom would know what I was doing, and she’d be back. With a deep breath, I opened my mind. Shrieks made me flinch and grab at my ears, though I knew it wouldn’t help.