Spirits 04-Spirits of Seacliff Manor

by Morgan Hannah MacDonald

  Brad despised Mary Ann, said she looked cheap with her heavy make-up, bleached blonde hair and skintight clothes. He also disapproved of the men who came and went at all hours from her house across the street.

  Jane, on the other hand, considered her colorful. Funny even, in a dense sort of way. She was never sure if Mary Ann’s comments were meant to be humorous, or if she was really as dumb as she seemed. She swore like a sailor and had the wildest stories. Her cats were another thing altogether, she had three and they tended to use Jane’s flower beds as their own personal litter box.

  She glanced at the closed bedroom door. No, Brad was way too uptight to cheat. The mere idea would probably make him break out in a rash. She forced a laugh, pocketed the earring, and continued into the kitchen.

  She made coffee and set the timer for the next day.

  Silently she opened the bedroom door and shut it. The only light in the room came from the digital clock. Tip-toeing across the room, her foot landed on something, her ankle twisted, and down she went with a loud thud on the hardwood floor. The light by the bed went on.

  “What was that?” Brad said sleepily.

  “Huh, what?” came an unidentified female voice.

  Jane sat up and stared at the bed. There they were, Mary Ann and Brad staring back at her. She couldn’t speak.

  “Jane, what are you doing here?” Brad said.

  She scrambled to her feet and in the process found her voice. “This is my house, you prick! What the hell is she doing here?” Jane’s body shook with fury. She inspected the room, clothes were strewn all over the floor and her shoes, those god awful turquoise platform shoes. That’s what she’d tripped on. She picked one up and hurled it at Brad’s head.

  Unfortunately he ducked and it hit the headboard behind him.

  “Babe, it’s not what you think.” Brad jumped out of the bed and advanced toward her.

  “Seriously, Brad? Seriously? You’re going to stand there naked and tell me it’s not what I think? Really? What is it then. Mary Ann got so drunk she wandered into the wrong house, took off her clothes, got into bed with you and what, you thought it was me? You didn’t notice? What?” Jane backed up.

  “Look, it was an accident, she came over looking for you. She had just been dumped, she was crying, a real wreck. I just offered her some wine and a shoulder to cry on. I guess I got a little drunk and—”

  “And what, fell on top of her over and over again, naked? Did you at least wear a condom? I know how much you hate those things, but you did say she was a skank. Aren’t you worried you’ll get some disease?”

  “Hey!” Mary Ann complained.

  “Can it, Blondie.” Jane turned her attention to the other woman, who was now struggling into her painted-on jeans. “Oh, look, honey, her boobs are fake. Was that it, you just couldn’t stand another day without knowing for sure? Well, it doesn’t look like she smothered you with those bodacious ta-ta’s of hers.”

  “That’s not nice,” the other woman said as she slipped her snug tee-shirt over her head.

  “Oh, gee, I’m sorry, Mary Ann. I’m the only person in this entire neighborhood who would give you the time of day and this is how you repay me?”

  “It was only once. Okay, maybe three times. But just tonight. It never happened before. I didn’t mean it, really. I was just so upset and Brad was being so nice. Please don’t be mad. We can still be friends, can’t we?” Mary Ann looked at Jane hopefully.

  “Were you dropped on your head as a child, or did the bleach kill all of your brain cells?” Jane leaned down, picked up the other shoe and threw it at her. “Get out!” It hit her in the arm.

  “Ow, no need to get violent.” Mary Ann snatched up the shoe and crawled across the bed to reach the other one.

  “I said get out, get out, get out!” Jane chased her from the room. Once she was out of sight, she turned on Brad. “You too, lover.” She placed her hands flush on his chest and pushed. He stumbled back.

  “Jane, I love you. Can’t we talk about this?” Brad pleaded.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She picked up his tennis racket that was standing against the wall and aimed for his head. He raised his arm, deflecting the blow.

  Jane kept swinging, wherever his arm went, she would go in the opposite direction and find an exposed piece of flesh. “How’s that for a backhand, sweety? See, I was paying attention to all those little pointers you gave me.”

  “Ouch, stop!” he yelled, but she ignored him. “Okay, okay, just let me get my clothes.”

  She kept ushering him out of the bedroom, through the living room, and toward the front door until his back was pressed against it.

  “Jane, be reasonable. I can’t go out there without a stitch of clothes on. What would the neighbors say?”

  “Not my problem. You’re just lucky I don’t have a gun. Of course, I could get a knife from the kitchen. Change you from a rooster to a hen with one swift move.”

  Brad stared into her murderous eyes, weighing her words. A moment later, he reached behind him, grabbed the doorknob and turned it. Out on the porch, he made one final plea. “Can I at least have my car keys?” He watched as she mulled it over.

  She turned and went back into the house, grabbed his clothes and tossed them out onto the lawn.

  He rushed over and put on his pants. After he zipped them up, he turned to his left. Jane followed his gaze and there in her robe and slippers, with her cat in her arms, was the elderly woman who lived next door.

  “Mrs. Pembroke,” Brad said with a nod. As if this was just any other night.

  “Brad.” Mrs. Pembroke nodded and watched as he picked up the rest of his clothes and made his way toward his bright red Corvette.

  Jane slammed the door and leaned her forehead against it.

  “Uh, excuse me,” came a voice from behind her.

  Jane spun around to find Mary Ann staring back at her.

  “What the hell are you still doing here?” Jane yelled.

  “Well, I needed to tinkle and get my purse.”

  “Oh, my, God! If you took an IQ test, the result would come back negative!”

  “Huh?” Mary Ann scrunched up her face.

  Jane grabbed the woman’s arm, opened the front door and threw her onto the porch, slamming the door behind her. She snapped the locks shut, put her back against the door and slid to the floor. She pulled her knees up to her chest and held tight. Her body trembled, adrenaline, shock, or a combination of both. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe.

  “That did not just happen.”

  There was a knock on the door.

  TEN

  After listening to Courtney’s ludicrous story, Alyssa motioned for Bailey to follow her. They headed downstairs to the Captain’s old office on the first floor and shut themselves in. It was positioned in the back of the house with a huge mahogany desk and navy accents.

  Pictures of ships with giant masts surrounded the room, along with framed maps. Models of tall ships adorned the shelves as well. Brandon had claimed it as his own, moving the creepy portrait of Captain MacDougall from the front parlor and hung it over the fireplace where he could keep him company.

  His words.

  “What do you think?” Alyssa asked.

  “It could have been a dream, like you said.”

  “True. I wasn’t just playing along when I said I was having weird dreams since we’ve moved in. But my sister has always been prone to dramatics.”

  “I did witness the lady on the stairs. Maybe you should send her home. She might be more susceptible to suggestion than we are,” Bailey replied.

  “I hate to do that. She just got here. Besides, I promised my mother I’d take good care of her, not send back a basket case.”

  “So what do you want to do?”

  Alyssa shrugged. “I wish I could discuss it with Brandon, but he’s under a lot of stress right now with the new job. I don’t want to add to that with all this ghost stuff.”

 
; “That’s probably a good idea.”

  “I won’t do anything right now. Let’s just keep an eye on her. If she comes up with any more stories like that of last night, I’ll worry about it then.”

  “Okay,” Bailey said. “I’m going to check on the window installations.”

  “I’m going to start stripping the old wallpaper in the dining room so we can prepare the walls to hang the new.”

  Alyssa was finishing up on the last wall when Courtney joined her. “How are you feeling? Did you have a good nap?”

  “Sure.” Courtney stared at a naked wall.

  “Are you okay?” Alyssa was a little worried by her sister’s silence. The only time she stopped jabbering was when she slept. But at that moment she wouldn’t meet Alyssa’s gaze. She walked up behind her and wrapped Courtney in her arms.

  “If you want to leave, I would understand.”

  “No!”

  Startled, Alyssa backed away releasing her in the process.

  Courtney spun around and glared at her. “I’m not leaving.”

  “Okay.” The angry words and expression on her sister’s face had Alyssa heading toward the exit. “I’ll go get us some lemonade.” When she returned, she kept her distance while she watched her sister. Courtney had picked up where Alyssa had left off stripping the wallpaper. She worked like a robot, her movements slow and deliberate. Perhaps Courtney just needed a good night’s sleep.

  *

  That night Courtney was sound asleep when she abruptly awoke. She opened her eyes and looked around, but didn’t see or hear anything so she rolled on her side, pulling the blanket up over her shoulder. Suddenly the covers were ripped from her hand, bruising her fingers. She watched in terror as it flew across the room where it slowly floated to the floor.

  A scream caught in her throat.

  Her heart hammered in her chest while her body shivered. The room was so cold that she could see her breath; she wrapped her arms around herself as she searched the room. She appeared to be alone. As she lay there facing the bedroom door, it began to open slowly, with a high-pitched creak.

  Then she heard it.

  Someone was crawling on all fours on the carpet. Quick. Quick. Stop. Heavy breathing. Quick. Quick. Stop. Heavy breathing. A foul stench filled the room.

  She was paralyzed with fear.

  A low growl came from the foot of the bed.

  Then she felt the bed give as if someone sat on the end, but she couldn’t see anyone. Pressure began on her ankles and then her legs, moving up the length of her torso as if someone were climbing her like a tree. Her body pressed into the mattress as the being stopped right on her chest making it hard for her to breathe. She began to hyperventilate.

  Something was trying to kill her.

  The second the thought materialized in her head, unseen hands gripped her throat and squeezed. As if the trance were broken, her arms flew up from her sides and slapped at the air, trying to break the hold. She fought hard, but made no headway. The only sound came from the gurgling in her throat. Before long the fight left her body.

  Everything turned black.

  *

  Alyssa found herself at an outdoor venue filled with people. The music was extremely loud. She had no idea where she was or how she’d gotten there. Everyone was dressed like a movie set in the 1960s. Floppy hats, halter tops, maxi dresses and flowers in their hair. All the men had long hair. A girl appeared in the crowd.

  “That one,” said a deep male voice in her head.

  Alyssa walked up to the girl as if she knew just what to do. “You want to smoke a joint? This grass is primo. The best I’ve ever had.”

  The girl smiled. “Why not?”

  She led the girl behind the stage and handed her the marijuana cigarette. “Here, let me light it for you.”

  “Groovy.” The girl put it in her mouth and waited.

  She lit the joint and watched the girl draw the smoke in. The girl coughed and then laughed. “Wow, this is great shit.” She took another drag and held the smoke in her lungs.

  “What’s your name?”

  She exhaled and passed the joint. “Jenny. What’s yours?”

  “Vera.” She put it to her lips, but knew better than to inhale. She passed it back to Jenny who took another hit.

  Her body began to sway. “Whoa. This is powerful.”

  Vera grabbed her arms and laughed. “I told you.”

  “I’d better get back to my friends.”

  “Okay. I’ll help you.” Vera led the girl out the exit into the parking lot.

  “Wait.” Jenny stopped and almost toppled them both.

  “Careful now. Just a little further.”

  Jenny shook her head. “But this isn’t the way.”

  “Sure it is. You’re just high. You’ll be with your friends in no time. Trust me.”

  Jenny blinked a couple of times. “Okay.” She giggled. “Lead the way.”

  Vera steered the girl through the parked cars. They came across a group of people partying in the back of a panel van. One guy stared at them. “Hey, you need help?”

  “She can’t handle her weed.”

  He held up his Strawberry Hill. “Far out, man.” He tipped the bottle and drank heavily.

  They got a little further when they ran into a guy sitting on the pavement by himself. “Hey, man, want to party?”

  “She’s having a bad trip. Gotta get her home,” Vera answered.

  “Bummer. Good luck with that.”

  Vera was starting to have trouble with the girl. Jenny’s eyes were now closed and she had to hold her up as they walked. Her VW Bug was just a little further. When Vera finally got there, she propped Jenny up on the car and held her there while she opened the door. Then she manipulated her body into the front seat. It was like playing with a giant Gumby doll.

  When they arrived at the estate, Vera dragged the girl out into the garden. There beside the rose bushes was an axe and a six foot hole. She looked at the weapon and then at Jenny passed out cold.

  Do it now. The raspy voice whispered in her ear.

  “No. I can’t do this anymore.” Tears ran down Vera’s cheeks.

  Kill her. Kill her. Kill her.

  “No, you bastard. Leave me alone!” Vera screamed.

  Kill her. Kill her. Kill her.

  “You want her dead? You do it!”

  Vera’s arm was yanked forward toward the axe. “No!”

  She watched in terror as her hands grabbed the handle and choked up on it like it was a baseball bat.

  “Stop it!”

  The axe flew over her head. “No. No. No!”

  Then it came down right across Jenny’s neck. Blood splattered all over Vera. The head rolled toward her and stopped at her feet. She screamed her throat raw. Her arm flew up again, then down on the poor girl.

  Vera tried to fight it, but to no avail. She had no choice but to watch her hands doing the heinous act. When the massacre ended, the girl was virtually unrecognizable.

  ELEVEN

  Alyssa woke up screaming. She found herself outside, standing in front of an overgrown bed of roses. Dew clung to the leaves. The ground was cold beneath her bare feet. The sun was just making an appearance, its light cast the yard in shadow.

  She scanned her surroundings. “How did I get here?” She looked back at the roses; there was no freshly dug grave.

  “Alyssa!” Courtney came running around the corner in her pajamas, hair standing on end. “Oh my God. Are you all right?” She grabbed Alyssa by the shoulders and studied her.

  “I don’t know.” Alyssa searched the area again. It made no sense.

  “What are you doing out here in your nightgown?”

  “I was dreaming.”

  “You were sleepwalking?”

  “I guess. The last thing I remember, I was in bed and I turned out my light.” Alyssa looked at the ground. There was something she wanted to remember. “Vera!”

  “Vera? What does she have to do with this?”r />
  Alyssa looked at her sister. “I was having a dream about Vera. It was terrifying. When I woke up, I was standing right here.”

  Courtney wrapped her arm around Alyssa’s waist and steered her toward the house. “Let’s get you inside. You’re shivering.”

  Numbly Alyssa gave control over to her sister.

  Courtney set her on a stool by the kitchen counter. “Sit here while I make a pot of coffee.” Then she left. When she returned, she wrapped an afghan around Alyssa’s shoulders and went to work preparing the coffee.

  Alyssa watched as everything moved in slow motion. The next thing she knew, Courtney was leading her through the house. They entered the TV room and she set her on the couch and handed her a cup of coffee.

  “Drink this. It will warm you up and clear away the cobwebs.” Courtney climbed onto the couch and sat cross-legged next to her. The warmth of her body was comforting.

  Alyssa held the cup with both hands and watched the steam rise.

  “Lyssa? You’re kind of scaring me right now.”

  “Sorry.” Although Alyssa knew she spoke, the sound was distant.

  “You’re acting like a person going into shock. Why don’t you tell me about this dream? Maybe if you get it out you’ll feel better. Okay?”

  “Okay.” The steam swirled as it went up and disappeared.

  “Instead of studying coffee, why don’t you drink it.”

  The cup moved toward Alyssa’s lips as if on its own. She took a sip. It tasted good. It was fixed just the way she liked it with half & half and two teaspoons of sugar. The cup receded and then came back. Like a child, Alyssa obeyed.

  “Good girl. Just a little more. That’s it.”

  When the cup was empty, it landed on the coffee table in front of her. Warm hands cupped her face and turned her head. She was looking at her sister Courtney. When did she get there?

  “Feeling a bit better?”