Paranormal After Dark: 20 Paranormal Tales of Demons, Shifters, Werewolves, Vampires, Fae, Witches, Magics, Ghosts and More

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “They can keep their opinions to themselves. Robert has dalliances all the time and my father impregnated that fool of a girl in the other room.”

  He touched his forehead to hers, holding her against his body. “Just lay with me, until I fall asleep. Then I’ll know you’re safe.”

  “I feel safest with you, Thomas.”

  He snuggled against her and rested his head against the soft curve where her neck met her shoulder. “Then I’ll never leave.”

  Chapter 6

  October 19, 1859

  EARLY WEDNESDAY MORNING, Adelaide was ripped from deep sleep by the sound of screaming on the streets below. She jolted up from the nest of blankets she and Thomas had built on her bedroom floor—the only way her father would allow them to sleep together—and frantically tried to untangle a bedlinen from around her leg.

  Thomas was scrambling to his feet beside her and stood first, firmly pressing his hand to her shoulder and raising the rifle. “Stay down.”

  Sarah had nearly slid off the bed and into her lap. She dug her fingers into Adelaide’s arm. “Addy? Is it happening again? What’s going on?”

  Adelaide’s heart pounded so hard in her chest that she thought it would rip through her chemise. She fumbled underneath her pillow for her watch—this could be anything; it could be another one of those creatures she and Thomas had faced before. Damn it, where was the watch?

  The door to the bedroom burst open and a figure swung a lantern wildly from side to side. He lunged at the bed and was across the room in a heartbeat.

  Sarah screamed.

  “It’s me!” Robert yelled. “Calm down. It’s just me.”

  “Jesus.” Thomas lowered the rifle, exhaling loudly. “I could have shot you.”

  Adelaide clamped her hand over the watch and jumped up from the floor, shoving her brother backwards. “Robert, you fool, what are you doing?”

  He pushed past her, handing the lantern to Thomas, and peered out the window. “My God, there’s a mob out there.”

  Sarah burst into tears and clutched wildly at the quilts, trying to pull them around her tightly. “It’s happening again! It’s happening again!”

  Robert grabbed the lantern back from Thomas and stormed towards the door. “Come on, old man, we have to get downstairs. My father’s missing. Girls, stay here!”

  “The hell? I am not staying here!” Adelaide wrestled her arm away from Sarah. “You’re not leaving me alone when Poppa’s disappeared and the whole damned town is coming undone.”

  She followed her brother and Thomas down the dark hallway. Thomas slowed to a stop in the corridor, hanging back while they walked into their father’s room.

  Rebekah stood in the middle of the room, her hands holding on to her swollen stomach. “Robert, where’s your father?”

  “Get back into bed.” Adelaide snapped before Robert could answer. “Robert, tell her to get back into bed.”

  “Adelaide, do not speak to me like I’m a child.” Rebekah retorted, without even an ounce of force to her voice. “I am your mother.”

  There was nothing Adelaide had to say to that woman. How dare she think she replaced their mother? “What do you mean, he’s missing? Was he not there when you went down to stand guard? Answer me, damn it, I am not a child.”

  Robert pushed past her and headed towards the door. He stopped so fast and Adelaide almost slammed into him.

  Their father was standing in the doorway. He rubbed his eyes, obviously exhausted. “Bekah, what are you doing out of bed?”

  She pouted like an infant. “I’m scared—I can’t see what’s going on out there.”

  “They’re saying a league of Brown’s abolitionists and slaves are butchering people in Rohrsville.” Her father strode over to Rebekah and firmly led her to the bedside. “You have got to stay in bed, my dear, and protect the child.”

  “Are the Marines going to Rohrsville? Did you hear, Tom?” Robert leaned into the hallway. “I’ll go along, Poppa, old Ossawattomie Brown has got to be stopped. Enough men have died because of his—”

  “Robert, that’s enough.” Poppa helped Rebekah hoist her heavy body into the bed. “The Marines are staying here. There are a few detachments still on route from Maryland; they will go on towards Sandy Hook and Rohrsville.”

  Robert tapped his hand against doorframe. “What are we supposed to do? Wait for them to come back?”

  Poppa pulled the quilt around Rebekah and smoothed her blonde hair off her forehead. “Take post in the store, Robert. I’m going to see what I can find out. Cooper, you come with me.”

  Adelaide followed her father into the hallway, but stopped when she reached Thomas. He immediately pulled her into his arms. “Do me a favor, sweet girl? Stay away from the windows.”

  Tears pricked the backs of her eyes, she tried to blink them back. “Be careful.”

  “I will.” He pressed his lips to hers and hugged her tightly. “I’ll be back when I can.”

  Adelaide watched him disappear down the dark hallway with her father. Her fear for his safety was immediately replaced with her hate for her stepmother. Anger burned inside her chest. Here she and Robert stood, his real family—his own children—and he comforted Rebekah. The woman was infuriating with her smarmy grin and the innocent routine she gave their father. Once, they’d been friends. She’d visited for meals and called on her and Sarah in the afternoon.

  That’s how she met their father.

  That’s how she’d weaseled her way into the family. She’d charmed him and batted her long lashes at him. He was lonely. She was young and soft and beautiful.

  “He seems to care you for you, Addy.”

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion of him, Rebekah. Try your best and stay away from, do you understand? I don’t need you stealing more men out of my life.” She practically spit the words at her. “Were you ever actually my friend, Rebekah? Or did you just use me to get closer to my father?”

  Rebekah craned her neck and peered over her stomach. “Addy...”

  “No, forget it. I don’t want to know.” She turned away from her; she was afraid if she didn’t, she’d reach out and slap her. “I’ll go check on Luke and Levi.”

  She stormed out of the room, crossing the hallway and into the blackness of the boys’ room. She could barely make out the tip of Levi’s nose peeking out from underneath his heavy wool blanket. Luke, on the other hand, nearly knocked her over as she entered the room. “Is it Brown? Has he escaped? Are you going to marry that Thomas Cooper? I work with him, you know.”

  “Poppa is going to find out about Brown,” she guided him backwards, “so get back into bed. As soon as he gets back, I’m sure he’ll wake you up and tell you.”

  “But Addy,” Levi whimpered, “it’s not safe out there. You know what happened to Mr. Boerly.”

  Adelaide bit her lip and pulled the blanket down so she could see Levi’s face. She knew more than he realized; things she wanted to forget. “The men who shot Mr. Boerly are in jail in Charlestown or receiving their punishment from God. Poppa will be fine. Luke, get in bed.”

  Luke threw himself forward and bounced on the mattress. “Where’s Robert?”

  “Here.” she replied vaguely.

  “Where?”

  “In the house.”

  “Where in the house?”

  “Luke.” Adelaide snapped, exasperated. “It doesn’t matter where Robert is precisely; besides, how should I know when I’m here arguing with you? The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner Poppa will be back to tell you what is going on outside.”

  Luke did not look convinced.

  She smiled encouragingly, though in the dim light she doubted either of her brothers could tell. “Everything will be fine, I know it. Just... just stay in bed.”

  Once outside their bedroom, she lingered in the hallway for a moment to make sure Luke stayed put. The only noise coming from the dark room was of the two boys whispering conspiratorially. She was satisfied they would be asleep in a matter o
f minutes, so she padded back to her and Sarah’s bedroom.

  Sarah was sobbing into her pillow and looked up when Adelaide walked in. “Robert told me what’s going on outside.”

  “Robert doesn’t know what’s going on.” Adelaide peered out her window at the mobs of people on the street below. It was nothing like when Brown was in the engine house... these people seemed angry, not scared. In the soft glow of lantern light, she could see that many of the men were armed with rifles. It was unsettling, as in the darkness it was impossible to tell if the armed man was a friend or a stranger ready to raid the Ferry again.

  She shuddered and stepped away from the window. “I thought it would be okay when Brown was arrested, but it looks like his followers are picking up where he was stopped.”

  As Adelaide crawled into the bed next to her, Sarah pulled the blanket over her head. Her voice was muffled as she spoke, “I don’t understand. I’ve heard that Brown says he’s doing God’s work. But why would God want this?”

  Adelaide leaned up against the headboard and stared up at the ceiling. She rubbed the gold back of her pocket watch. “I don’t know, Sarah.”

  “Maybe God is punishing us for our sins.”

  “Maybe.”

  Sarah was silent for a few moments. Finally, she pulled the blanket from her face and sighed. “I don’t think that I will be able to sleep tonight. Not with Poppa out there.”

  “Not with Thomas out there.” Adelaide glanced down at the blankets where she’d slept next to him than night. He’d whispered bawdy things in her ear, kissing her neck, until he repeatedly confessed his love for her. She’d fallen asleep in his arms. “I’m not going to be able to sleep until I know he’s safe.”

  Sarah propped herself up against the headboard. “Well then, we’ll be awake until it’s over.”

  “If it ever is over.”

  Chapter 7

  A SHARP PAIN in her neck jarred Adelaide out of a deep sleep. She pawed at the air; her eyes fluttering open and gradually focusing on the bright room.

  The specter of a man was hunched over her.

  She choked back a scream. The creature still resembled the human it had been: black eyes bored into hers, his dark curls trailing off in misted tendrils. A gaping hole in his throat showed where a bullet had torn away the flesh in life and it was tearing her, digging bone sharp nails into her neck. She bucked against it, trying to jam her hand under her pillow for the watch.

  It was holding her down.

  Her fingers brushed against metal and she twisted, stretching her fingers; reaching, craning to reach it. She bumped it again—

  –and heard the scrape as it slid in between the mattress and the headboard, clattering to the floor.

  “Damn it.” She sucked in a breath, kicking her leg outwards and impacting with her still sleeping sister’s leg. She couldn’t see Sarah—she hit her again.

  The girl barely squealed, immediately rolling to the floor.

  “Watch. Get my watch.” Adelaide squirmed under the creature; it was pinning her down and keeping her in place with black powder stained hands. Its smell churned her stomach: rot, sweat, and shit. “Sarah, hurry!”

  Its hands slid to her throat. Her air supply was cut off; it seemed to rest its full weight on her windpipe. She started to choke. “Sarah….”

  She heard a sizzle; gray tendrils of smoke rose into the air. Sarah jumped onto the bed and trust the flaming bundle of sage at the creature.

  It howled, reeling backwards and flinging itself out of bed. Adelaide didn’t wait. Coughing and choking, she scrambled onto the pile of blankets on her floor and jammed her hand underneath.

  Her fingers made instant contact with the watch.

  The creature was upon her again, clawing its way up her legs. Hands seemed to be everywhere on her body. It pushed her skirts up, its mouth curled into a toothless, dripping smile. You will be mine.

  She jammed her finger into the clasp of the watch, her fingernail snapping backwards. Her vocal cords strained and pain radiated down her throat. “I command you to cross to the other side now—face your judgment with God.”

  The watch slammed into the creatures face. It screamed, writhing as light enveloped it, and Adelaide squeezed her eyes closed to keep from being blinded.

  And then everything was silent.

  “Jesus, how did it get in here?” Sarah dropped to her knees beside her, helping her roll up into a sitting position. “Are you okay?”

  Adelaide nodded, coughing and clearing her throat. Pain seared in her jaw and neck. “I think so.”

  “They’re getting stronger.”

  “Maybe not; I’ve never had one get that close before. Are there scratches on my neck?”

  Sarah leaned forward, studying her skin. She touched her fingertip to the side of her neck; Adelaide flinched. “No, but you have bruise right here.”

  “That’s how it woke me.” Adelaide swept her hair over her shoulder, covering the mark. “Good thing for that, yeah?”

  In her sister’s silence, she realized the strange silence outside. There was no yelling, no sound of the armory machines grinding to a start. It was like the hesitation between a flash of lightening and the roar of thunder; uneasy anticipation. Waiting.

  Adelaide eased to her feet, tucking her watch into her dress pocket. “Stay here.”

  She crept into the hallway; she could hear muffled voices coming from the work room. As she walked, she smoothed down her skirts and forced her breathing to a slower tempo. Hopefully, they hadn’t heard the scuffle.

  Thomas, Robert, and her father were seated at the table, all with mugs of hot coffee cupped in their hands. Adelaide smiled at Thomas, thrills radiating down her spine. He was still here.

  He winked at her.

  “Good morning, my little rosebud.” Her father sounded tired, she doubted any of them had slept much the last few nights.

  “What’s going on outside?” She coughed again. Slowly, acting as if her movement wasn’t out of the ordinary, she dipped a mug in the water bucket and took a quick sip. It soothed her raw throat. “Was it more of Brown’s men?”

  Her father’s face broke into a lopsided grin, but his eyes remained glassy. “Straight to the heart of the matter, so much like your mother. No, child, it wasn’t more of Brown’s men. It was... well... a misunderstanding.”

  Adelaide stared at him. “A misunderstanding?”

  Robert ripped a hunk of bread from the loaf. “Some dandy from Maryland thinks the darkies are chopping up people in Rohrsville, so what happens? All the little townsfolk from Sandy Hook flee for their lives—to here. The only problem, it turns out, is there’s no massacre. No bloodbath. No nothing—especially not in Sandy Hook, ‘cause they’re all here.”

  Adelaide stared at Thomas, at first not sure she was hearing her brother correctly. Only hours before she thought they were living their nightmare again and it was all a mistake? He nodded. “We’re hosting quite a lot of visitors this morning.”

  “What are all those people going to do? We don’t have room for them here.”

  Her father lifted the mug to his face and breathed in the steam. “They’re going back to Sandy Hook, now as a matter of fact, escorted by a group of Marines.”

  “You should have seen it, Addy, I’ve never laughed so hard.” Robert slapped Thomas on the back, as if this was some kind of private joke between them. “One man brought a hog with him. Isn’t that funny? A practically full grown hog, just squealing away on the stoop of Frankel’s shop and trying to wriggle away down Shenandoah Street!”

  “Robert.” Poppa cast a disapproving look at his son. “Many people brought valuables with them. Not just that particular gentleman.”

  Thomas snorted, choking back a laugh. “Maybe he’d brought his supper with him. After all, the hog is just premature bacon.”

  Robert laughed loudly, patting his hand against the tabletop. “Yes, well, regardless of the reason that he had it, there was a hog on Frankel’s stoop. Can you ima
gine the look on old Phil’s face to see a hog—not to mention twelve other people—sleeping on the stoop? He’d look like that Baptist minister did when he lost Tom Gallaher in the current during last Easter’s baptism!”

  Poppa laughed and then immediately turned serious, as if he would not allow himself a moment of lightheartedness. “You can be certain, Adelaide, there was no butchering going on in Rohrsville last night. There is no slave uprising, not in Sandy Hook and not here.”

  She thought for a moment and then said quietly, “Will there be?”

  Her father didn’t answer.

  * * *

  “THEN SHALL THE dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.” Rev. Bates held his Bible in the air and made the sign of the cross. “We commit the body of Thomas Boerly to the earth and his soul to God. ‘In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.’”

  Huddled next to Thomas, Adelaide looked up from Mr. Boerly’s casket and glanced uncomfortably at Mrs. Boerly and Thomas, Jr. The frail woman was leaned heavily against her son, her entire body shaking with each guttural sob that she gasped out. As several men eased the casket into the pit, she dropped to her knees. Her black skirt billowed out around her like a cloud. She reached her gloved hand towards the casket and, with her other hand, covered her mouth with a handkerchief, moaning unintelligible words.

  Adelaide turned her face to Thomas, pressing her face against his arm. Thomas Boerly had died twice: once by raider’s shot and again when she destroyed his spirit.

  Thomas squeezed her arm and nodded towards the stone steps. She was grateful to leave Harper Cemetery. Every movement around her made her think of the creature that held her down on her bed. She didn’t want to think they were getting stronger, but maybe they were feeding off the negative energy and terror the raiders brought into the Ferry.