Damned by the Ancients

by Catherine Cavendish

  As before, once she lay down, Heidi fell asleep almost instantly.

  Yvonne left her and rejoined Ryan in the kitchen. The banging had stopped. Ryan was examining a pattern of dents on the steel door.

  “It’s an ankh,” he said, tracing the pattern with his finger. “Something’s drawn an ankh on the door.”

  “What?”

  Yvonne ran her hand over the indentations. Close up, the shape was unmistakable. “What could have caused this?”

  Ryan paced the floor. “I’ve no idea. Right now, I’m almost prepared to think the unthinkable. Almost.”

  “I don’t know what to think anymore. Let’s sleep on it—if we can sleep—and talk about it when you get home from work tomorrow. It’s so late now.”

  * * * *

  The next morning, after a restless few hours, Yvonne trudged into the kitchen. Her first thought was of the steel door, and she made straight for it. She ran her fingers over the smooth surface.

  Ryan came in, yawning.

  “They’ve gone,” Yvonne said. “All the dents, as if they had never been here.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “See for yourself.”

  Ryan ran his hands over the door. “Like before. This gets crazier by the minute.”

  “Well, at least Heidi won’t have to see them,” Yvonne said. “One less thing to upset her.”

  Ryan shook his head and raked his fingers through his tousled hair. “I’m late. I’ll grab a coffee on the way. We’ll talk this evening.”

  * * * *

  Heidi was unusually quiet and withdrawn all day, spending most of it under the pine tree, reading. She spoke when spoken to but her usual happy chatter had dried up. When Ryan got home, she didn’t greet him with her usual kiss.

  As they washed the dishes, Ryan asked. “What’s with Heidi today?”

  Yvonne emptied the sink and dried her hands. “I think it’s all the business last night. I’ll run her bath and when she’s tucked up in bed, we’ll talk.”

  Unusually, Heidi made no attempt to stall her bath time and let Yvonne bathe her. Something she hadn’t done for a few years. She seemed to welcome her mother’s touch but said nothing.

  “What’s the matter, love? You’ve been so quiet today.”

  “What are you going to do about the man?” Heidi asked.

  “I’m going to talk to your dad about it and we’ll decide what’s best. You’re not to worry any more. We’ll sort it out.”

  “And you’ll let the man out?”

  Yvonne hesitated. If she said no, Heidi would yet again think she wasn’t believed, but if she said yes, then she would either be lying to her child or accepting the very real possibility that they had an unwelcome—and possibly not entirely human—entity of some kind in their basement. She decided to sidestep.

  “This man you saw. Did he frighten you?”

  Heidi shook her head. “No. He was too lonely to frighten me.”

  An odd reply for a child. “What do you mean, ‘too lonely’?”

  Heidi shrugged. “He misses his queen and wants to get her back.”

  “He told you this?”

  Heidi nodded, but uncertainly. “He didn’t speak like you’re speaking.” She tapped her head, changed her mind and tapped her chest in the general location of her heart.

  “You mean you felt him speak to you?”

  Heidi nodded. “The words came in my head but I felt them here.” She tapped her chest again.

  Yvonne helped Heidi out of the bath and wrapped her in a huge, fluffy white towel that cocooned her.

  “It must be horrible to be so lonely,” her daughter said.

  “Yes,” Yvonne replied, lifting a nightgown over the little girl’s head and smoothing it down. “I expect it must.”

  She helped her into bed, tucked her in, and kissed her good night. All operations she had performed thousands of times. But this was the first time she had done so while questioning her basic beliefs.

  “It’s impossible,” she said to Ryan when she joined him in the library. “I’ve never given it a thought before, but now I’m seriously wondering if Heidi saw exactly what she thinks she saw.”

  “What? Some supernatural being in our basement?”

  Yvonne nodded. “I know I sound crazy, but what other explanation is there? You said you were even starting to think it yourself.”

  Ryan shook his head. “Almost, I said. I’m still not convinced that there isn’t a rational explanation for all this. One that doesn’t feature a long-dead archaeologist and his crazy obsession. Tomorrow, we’ll check the rest of the rooms. See if there is another way down to that basement.”

  “I only wish I didn’t have this feeling of… I don’t know… Dread, I suppose.”

  “I know what you mean. I have it, too, but probably for different reasons.”

  * * * *

  That night, Yvonne lay awake, alert to any sound. An occasional siren sounded from far away, muffled by the double glazing. The night was still and balmy. Before dawn, she visited the bathroom and was switching off the light when she heard a voice.

  Heidi. Talking to someone.

  Yvonne looked over at Ryan, sleeping peacefully. She grabbed her dressing gown and wrapped it around herself as she padded out the door on bare feet.

  As she approached her daughter’s room, Heidi’s voice became more distinct. Yvonne stopped to listen but could hear no one answering her, nor could she make out her daughter’s words.

  She turned the handle and opened the door. The room lay in darkness but in the faint light penetrating the drapes she could make out the figure of her daughter, sitting bolt upright in bed.

  Yvonne switched on the main light and Heidi blinked fast and rubbed her eyes.

  “Who were you talking to, Heidi?”

  “No one.”

  Yvonne approached the bed, sat down, and took her daughter’s hands in hers. “Now, Heidi, we don’t tell lies, do we?”

  Heidi shook her head. “There was no one in here but me. I heard the man’s voice here again.” She tapped her head and her heart.

  “What did he say to you?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Nothing much.”

  “Come on, tell me.”

  “It was the same as before. He misses his queen and hell’s lonely.”

  “Hell’s lonely?”

  “No, I mean, he’s lonely. He’s all alone down there. Except for the others. But they’re not really there anymore.”

  Yvonne swallowed. Once again, she rationalized. Maybe Heidi had been having another dream. The little girl settled down again and closed her eyes. Within seconds, her breathing grew steady and even. Yvonne would get no answers tonight. Whatever Heidi meant would have to wait until tomorrow.

  * * * *

  “I don’t get it, Ryan. I swear she said, ‘hell’s lonely.’ Where would she get that from?”

  “Which Horrible History is she reading now?”

  “She’s reading that David Walliams book now. The Midnight Gang. Why?”

  “She wouldn’t get it from there, then.”

  Yvonne shook her head. “I’ll ask her about it again tomorrow.”

  “I wouldn’t. Let her think she dreamt it. She probably did, as you said. She fell right to sleep within seconds, so it’s the most likely explanation.”

  “Okay. You’re probably right.”

  So why did Yvonne feel increasingly sure her daughter hadn’t been dreaming at all?

  * * * *

  The next morning, with Heidi apparently back to her old self and once again playing happily outside, Yvonne and Ryan made a systematic search of all the rooms on the first floor. In their bedroom, another area of wall appeared hollow but, as with the library, they could find no trace of a door. All the other rooms on that
floor revealed nothing unusual.

  Midmorning they ascended to the top floor and searched room after deserted room, until they came to the last one along the corridor.

  Yvonne opened the door on a sunny bedroom with an old rug, a single bed covered in an ancient quilt, and a small old-fashioned fireplace that looked as if it hadn’t been swept since its last use.

  “Do you smell that?” Ryan sniffed. “Lilies.”

  “I can’t smell… Oh, yes, you’re right. No, it’s gone now.”

  They tapped the walls as they had in every room in the house.

  Ryan stepped back. “Nothing. The only two rooms with possibilities are the library and our bedroom and the only way we’re going to find out if there’s anything there is by knocking a chunk out of the wall.”

  “I don’t think our Fräulein Liesel is going to be too happy about that.”

  “No.”

  “So, unless you have any other bright ideas, I would say we’re stumped. At least for now.”

  “I do, as it happens,” Ryan said. “A locksmith.”

  “That would be going directly against the owners’ wishes.”

  “The owners don’t have to know about it. I’ll get onto it on Monday. Will you be around all day?”

  Yvonne thought for a moment. “I can be.”

  “Excellent. Don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

  “Because it would have been that much easier if we’d found a secret passageway.”

  “Well, we didn’t, and I for one would prefer my daughter not to have dreams about strange men talking to her from the basement. Let’s debunk this thing now before it gets out of hand.”

  “Unless she’s telling the truth.”

  “Yvonne, please…”

  “All right. I know it’s crazy. But I’m keeping an open mind, that’s all. Our daughter is usually truthful and it’s not like her to fabricate in this way.”

  “But she does make up stories.”

  “Yes, Ryan. I know. But she always describes them as stories. She knows the difference between fantasy and reality. This is different and, if you think about it, you know that, too. She honestly believes this.” She could understand Ryan’s need to cling to any remaining hope that they wouldn’t have to confront the possibility that their daughter really had encountered something supernatural, but it wasn’t helping them, and it certainly wouldn’t help Heidi.

  Ryan reached for a bottle of cognac and poured two generous glasses. He handed one to Yvonne. “Let’s wait and see what the locksmith can do.”

  * * * *

  He was a burly fellow with narrow, metal-framed glasses and a cheerful smile. He also seemed not to speak one word of English beyond, “Gut morning. My name Fleischmann. Otto Fleischmann. I come for locks.”

  “Thank you, Herr Fleischmann.”

  Yvonne escorted him and his toolbox into the kitchen and pointed to the door. He nodded, smiled, and approached it. He declined a cup of coffee and began examining the padlocks and door lock.

  “Okay?” Yvonne asked. “You can…open it?”

  Otto made an uncertain rocking gesture with his hand and then grinned broadly. “Sicher. All locks. Kein Problem.”

  “Thank you,” Yvonne said, then remembered, “Danke.”

  “Bitte.”

  Yvonne recognized the courtesy response and left him to it while she went to check on Heidi. The little girl was in her room, creating an imaginary play for her dolls. Yvonne saw that one of them was on its own, while the others had clustered together. No, while Heidi had clustered the others together.

  “What’s the play about?” Yvonne asked.

  “Selena is lonely.” Heidi pointed at the solitary doll who she had dressed all in black.

  “I thought her name was Angelina.”

  Heidi shook her head. “She told me she wasn’t Angelina anymore. Her name is Selena. No one will play with her and she misses her friends.”

  “Oh, that’s very sad. Why won’t they play with her?”

  “Because she’s different.”

  Yvonne’s heart lurched. She looked again at the doll, her long, dark hair carefully arranged across her shoulders. Heidi had laid her out full length, with her arms at her sides. Her daughter had covered the doll’s face with a piece of black lace. She had to ask, but feared the answer.

  “How is she different, Heidi?”

  Heidi turned her brilliant blue eyes to her mother.

  “She’s dead.”

  Chapter 5

  “You had to see it, Ryan. It was weird. That doll… If Heidi could have crossed its arms across its chest, I swear she would have done.” Yvonne gripped her cell phone tighter against her ear.

  “You’re overreacting.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “She’s playing. Look, when I get home, I’ll have a word with her, okay? How’s the locksmith getting on?”

  “I don’t know, I’ll go and check on him. He seemed to think there wasn’t a lock he couldn’t pick.”

  “I’ll let you get off then. Don’t worry. Heidi’s fine.”

  “I hope so.”

  Back in the kitchen, Otto had laid the open padlocks on the kitchen table and had now commenced working on the main door lock. He smiled as Yvonne came in and pointed at the door lock. “Not long time,” he said.

  “Good. Excellent. Danke.”

  An audible click announced success.

  Otto beamed. “I open.”

  He turned the handle and, with a reluctant squeak, the door swung toward them. Otto stepped back, his hand over his nose. Almost immediately, the awful stench of rot reached Yvonne. “Oh my God, what the hell is that?”

  Otto crossed himself. “I go now. Please. I send bill. You send money.”

  “I can pay you now.”

  Otto had already backed away to the kitchen door. He put his hand on the handle and with his free hand, crossed himself again. “No. I send bill. I go now.”

  “But…”

  Yvonne spoke to the slamming door.

  She retched at the awful smell, shut the basement door, and opened the window. Still, the stench assaulted her nostrils and seemed to penetrate every pore of her skin. She threw the kitchen door wide and escaped into the fragrant morning of the sunny garden. Again and again she filled her lungs with fresh air. She would stay outside for ten minutes or so. Hopefully then the kitchen would be habitable again.

  Her mind drifted to Heidi. But the little girl was now in the garden. Yvonne saw her chance and grabbed it. She hurried up to Heidi’s room. The dolls were stacked neatly away on the shelf—the corpse doll separated from them. Yvonne picked her up and winced. The doll’s eyes seemed so real and alive she almost expected them to blink. She gripped her firmly and took her into hers and Ryan’s bedroom, where she thrust it into the bedside cabinet.

  With any luck, Heidi would forget that horrible game she had been playing, especially when Angelina…no…Selena reappeared wearing a bright summer dress. Another job for Yvonne this afternoon.

  Yvonne went down to the kitchen and tried a cautious sniff. Relief flooded her when she smelled nothing more than a well-aired, clean room. All the same, it wouldn’t hurt to leave the window open on this lovely day. She would speak to Ryan about it when he got home. Until then, there were plenty of other jobs to get on with. First though, she needed to check on Heidi.

  She found the little girl sitting cross-legged on the grass, drawing.

  “May I see?” Yvonne asked. Heidi smiled, nodded and passed her the drawing pad.

  She had sketched a fair representation of a sleek black cat with pointy ears, sitting upright and looking quite haughty. Around its neck was a necklace that Heidi was in the process of coloring bright yellow.

  “She’s a goddess,” she explained. “And she’s we
aring a gold chain. Look, I’ll show you.”

  Yvonne passed the pad back and Heidi finished the adornment. “There. It’s done.”

  “You draw very well,” her mother said and stared at the picture. The cat was wearing an ankh on the golden chain. She couldn’t have seen that symbol downstairs. It had only appeared after Yvonne had taken her up to bed. Then it had disappeared. Unless Heidi had gone downstairs again during the night. But why? “Where have you seen this symbol before?”

  Heidi shrugged. “I can’t remember. Somewhere.”

  Yvonne fought to keep her voice calm. “Was it here? In a book perhaps?”

  Heidi seemed to consider this for a few seconds. “It might be, but I think I had a dream.”

  “Do you know what it is? What it represents?”

  Heidi shook her head. “I’m not sure. Do you know, Mum?”

  Yvonne nodded. “It’s called an ankh. The ancient Egyptians believed it symbolized eternal life.”

  Heidi’s eyes lit up. “Now I remember,” she said. “The man in the basement. He showed it to me.”

  “He showed it to you?”

  “Yes. In here.” She tapped her head and her heart again.

  “Oh. Yes. I see.” Yvonne looked back at the picture. “May I take this? I’d like to show it to your dad when he gets home. You draw very well indeed.”

  “Thank you, Mum. Will you be working this afternoon?”

  “I’m planning to.” Although how she would concentrate on her novel, she could only imagine.

  “I thought I’d stay outside. I’ll stay in the shade and keep putting sunscreen on.”

  “That’s fine. Don’t forget to keep your sun hat on. It’s very bright today.”

  “I won’t.”

  The little girl tore off the picture and gave it to her mother. Her next words chilled Yvonne.

  “The man says ‘thank you.’”

  Yvonne swallowed hard and forced herself to retain her composure. “For what?”

  “For opening the door and letting him out. He’s free now.” She selected a black pencil and began a new drawing.

  Yvonne watched as yet another picture of a cat began to emerge. How could Heidi be so calm? As if talking to a ghost, or whatever, was the most natural thing in the world.