by Amy Cross
Chapter Ten
Today
“I'm serious!” he shouted, following Paula to the foot of the stairs. “I waited an hour for you at that school! It was embarrassing!”
“I never told you to sign me up to some stupid school in the middle of nowhere,” she replied, hurrying up to her bedroom. “I was fine at my old school in London!”
“It's not nowhere! It's Norway!”
“Same difference.”
“You're coming with me tomorrow, Paula,” he continued. “Do you hear me? I made a new appointment for us at quarter to nine, and by God you're going to be there!”
“Whatever,” she muttered, heading into her room and swinging the door shut.
***
Sitting at the top of her new bed, with the old notebook on her lap and the dictionary app open on her phone, Paula muttered away to herself as she continued to work on her translation. Darkness had begun to fall outside, and finally she reached over and switched on the lamp by her bed.
“January 18th,” she whispered, writing down the new translation on a sheet of paper as she turned to the last page in the notebook. “Arrived...” She paused to check some of the words, although she'd begun to learn a few already. “Already at a farmhouse just outside Bondalen.” Looking over at the doorway, she realized she'd reached the final night in the girl's account of her journey. “Seems abandoned. Broke in. Curtains. Should be okay here for a night, maybe two, but want to keep moving in the morning.”
“Yeah,” she muttered, “well, you forgot your diary when you left, didn't you?”
Moving down to the last couple of lines in the notebook, she realized that the handwriting seemed very different.
“January 18th...” she said to herself, as she looked up some new words, “addendum. Sorry, Margit -”
She paused, as she felt her blood start to run cold. After checking and double-checking the last few words, she wrote them down on her piece of paper and then read them out loud:
“January 18th, addendum. Sorry, Margit won't be writing in her journal anymore. She went into the barn and she won't be coming out.”
***
“It's a joke,” John said a few minutes later as he looked at the notebook down in the front room. “Paula -”
“It's not a joke,” she continued, pointing at the last section of text. “Look at the handwriting. It's completely different!”
“Yes, but -”
“And the last part that Margit wrote is about being here, right here in this exact farmhouse! And then someone else wrote that she'd gone into the barn and wouldn't be coming out!”
“Which is slightly ludicrous when you think about it,” her father pointed out.
“Dad!”
“Paula!” Sighing, he paused for a moment. “I don't know what you think this is, but you're stretching the facts a little if you reckon it's evidence of something sinister.” He looked back down at his newspaper for a moment, before glancing at her again. “I've been in the barn, Paula. There's nothing creepy in there. Not in the top parts, anyway.”
“What about the bottom part?”
“What about it?”
“Have you been in there yet?”
He paused. “Well, no, but -”
“So there could be anything in there.”
Sighing, he turned to the next page in his newspaper. “You're welcome to go and take a look in the morning, Paula, but all you'll find will be, at best, old farming equipment. Be careful of that stuff, by the way. Some of it could be sharp.”
Looking over at the window, Paula could just about make out the barn's huge silhouette against the night sky.
“I'm going to take a look now,” she said finally, heading to one of the kitchen drawers and pulling out a flashlight.
“Paula -”
“If there's nothing there,” she continued, grabbing her coat, “then what's the harm?”
“You're taking this too far. It's one thing to be interested in ghosts and ghoulies and whatever, but charging around in the middle of the night -”
“Is perfectly safe.” She slipped into the coat and then grabbed her rubber boots. “According to you. Or do you want to change your tune and start worrying that maybe there really is something out there in the barn?”
“This is ridiculous. You -”
“Back soon.” Without waiting for him to reply, she pushed the front door open and stepped out into the yard, only to find that, once again, heavy snowfall was drifting down from the night sky. Switching the flashlight on, she trudged down the steps and out into the snow, quickly making her way past the side of the barn and down to the south side, where the entrance to the building's lower floor lay with its wooden door hanging from the hinge.
Stopping for a moment, Paula looked out across the vast snowy field. The whole scene felt so desolate, she couldn't help but feel slightly awed by the dark forest she could just about make out in the distance. Having been used to living in London for so long, she wasn't sure she could ever get used to the idea of living in the countryside, so far from civilization.
“It's so lonely out here,” she thought to herself. “A great place to hide.”
Slowly, she turned and looked over at the door that led into the barn's lower level. She shone the flashlight over, but the darkness beyond the door seemed almost impenetrable, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something was in there, watching her. She told herself she was being foolish, that she was just letting the isolation of the area get to her, but as she took a few more steps forward, approaching the door, she felt the sensation growing in the pit of her belly: something was in there, watching her from the darkness, almost daring her to go further. By the time she reached the door and shone the torch inside, picking out nothing more than a dusty concrete floor stretching away into more darkness, she felt almost as if she could hear a faint pounding sound, like a heartbeat.
“So few people ever come here,” she thought, before wondering why, exactly, those words had popped into her head. Instinctively, she took a step back, but she was still feeling overwhelmed by the sensation of a presence in the barn. Something was watching her, a pair of eyes or... Pausing, she realized that it was more like a mind, reaching out and teasing her forward. She took a step through the door, entering the darkness, before stopping again, aware that the pounding sound was getting louder and seemed to be entering her head. For a moment, all she could think about was the idea of going further, of heading to the far end of the barn and seeing what was waiting for her.
She took another step forward.
“Paula!”
Stopping, she looked back and realized that her father was calling to her.
“Paula, are you still out here?”
She glanced back into the darkness, but suddenly the sensation of a presence seemed to be pushing her away instead of luring her further inside. She headed back outside, feeling slightly dizzy, and finally she saw her father hurrying around the side of the barn, his coat pulled tight to protect himself from the snow.
“It's like a blizzard out here!” he shouted as he reached her. “Well, did you find anything?”
“You didn't have to come and check on me!”
“Actually, I did. There are foxes around, and they can be quite vicious. There's also a chance of wolves, so I figured you shouldn't be out here alone.” He looked through the dark doorway. “Shall we go in, then?”
“I -” Pausing, she realized that the same presence that had been teasing her to go inside, was now trying to keep her out, as if it wanted her alone, not with her father. “Maybe we should do it tomorrow,” she said finally.
“Paula -”
“Tomorrow,” she added, turning the flashlight off and taking a few steps back. “You're right, there could be anything in there. The last thing I want is to have to go to hospital for a rabies shot.”
“So you admit that the girl who wrote that diary didn't end up getting butchered in our barn?”
She stared into t
he darkness for a moment, before telling herself that she was in danger of getting a little carried away. The farm was creepy, but not that creepy. “Sure,” she said finally. “I was just messing with your head. The diary's probably nothing, I'm sure it was just some kid who squatted here for a night or two while the place was empty.”
“Tomorrow we'll clear out this last part of the barn,” he told her. “Just to put your mind at rest.”
“Whatever,” she replied, turning and heading back toward the farmhouse. “I just want to go to bed. I'm exhausted.” As she made her way up the steps and through the front door, she stopped for a moment and glanced across the yard, looking once again at the barn. Deep down, she felt as if something had reached out to her from the darkness, and the connection remained, even if it was just a single thread.
Chapter Eleven
1979
“She should have been back a couple of hours ago,” said Elizabeth's mother as she peered out the window. “Why can't Kari ever just do as she's told? She's always late.”
“She was in a foul mood earlier,” Elizabeth replied as she continued to peel a mountain of potatoes for dinner. “You know how she gets, she's so...” She paused for a moment, trying to find the right word. “Selfish. That's what she is, she's selfish.”
“Don't speak that way about your sister. It's not pleasant.”
“I mean it as constructive criticism,” Elizabeth continued. “I've said it to her face often enough.”
“Which probably doesn't help.”
“She wants everyone to behave in a certain way, according to her rules, and she gets so terribly frustrated when the rest of us have our own thoughts.” Glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner, she saw that it was almost five. “What time is Pappa coming home, anyway?”
“He said he'd be late. He's volunteered to help with some kind of police search.”
“For Jonah Lund?”
“Who?”
Realizing that she should be careful of saying too much, Elizabeth decided to be a little more circumspect. After all, Dybendal had been very keen to avoid news leaking out and panicking people. “Nothing. I probably mis-understood. What is Pappa doing, then?”
“He didn't really tell me. He said it's not something I need to worry about, though.”
“And that's enough for you?”
“I trust your father's judgment.”
“I couldn't live like that,” Elizabeth replied. “It'd drive me crazy and -” Sensing something behind her, she turned and saw that Sara was standing in the doorway, watching her intently. “Hey,” she continued, forcing a smile. “I didn't think you'd be out of bed before dinner.”
“It's starting soon,” Sara said calmly.
“What is?”
“What he said would happen.” The little girl paused for a moment, as if she was feeling uncertain. “He told me people would die in the valley. He wasn't lying, you know.”
“Sara, please -”
“Come and help your sister,” their mother said as she headed to the back door. “I'm going to go out and find some carrots. And let's not have any more of this silly talk, Sara, okay? There's no need for it.”
Elizabeth waited until their mother was out of the room, before hurrying over to Sara and kneeling in front of her.
“This has to stop,” she said firmly. “If you know something, anything at all, you have to tell me right now. There might be lives at stake!”
“It's not like you could stop him,” Sara replied.
“That's not for you to judge.”
“He told me people have tried before. He let me in on the -” Stopping suddenly, she took a step back, as if something about Elizabeth was suddenly horrifying her.
“What's wrong? Sara?”
“It's like...” Seemingly on the verge of tears, the little girl turned to run, before Elizabeth grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her closer. “Let go of me!” Sara screamed. “Don't touch me!”
“What's wrong?” Elizabeth asked, struggling to hold her still. “Sara, talk to me! Tell me what's happening?”
“It's you!” Sara shouted, getting one hand free and trying to punch Elizabeth, before being restrained again. “I can see it!”
“See what?”
“Whatever's the matter in here?” their mother asked as she hurried back through from the garden.
“It's her!” Sara shouted, staring at Elizabeth with abject fear in her eyes. “Can't you see it, Mamma? It's her!”
“What's me?” Elizabeth asked, trying not to panic. “Sara -”
“I can see your skull!” Sara shouted, suddenly falling still and hushed as she stared in terror at Elizabeth's face. “I can see your skull poking through your flesh.”
“My skull?” Reaching up, Elizabeth placed a hand on her own face for a moment and felt the skin. “Sara, my skull is most certainly not poking through anything.”
“It is!” Sara yelled. “It is, it is! You're going to kill someone!”
“Sara -”
Before Elizabeth could finish, Sara twisted free and then lashed out, knocking the older girl back before running along the corridor and then racing out the front door.
Startled, Elizabeth allowed her mother to help her up before making her way to the mirror in the corner and examining her nose, only to see that a thin trickle of blood was running down her face.
“She hit me,” she whispered. “She really hit me.” After a moment, she turned to her mother. “What on earth got into her?”
***
Reaching the southern side of the barn, Sara stopped and stared at the broken door, and at the darkness inside. She'd always been a little scared of the barn, but now something felt different, as if...
She paused, holding her breath.
Something was calling to her. Something was in the darkness, and it wanted her to go inside. She took a step back, telling herself that it was too scary, but the lure was getting stronger. After a moment, she took a couple of steps forward, and although part of her mind was telling her not to go any closer, she knew she had no choice. Even though she couldn't see anything in the dark interior, she could sense a presence begging her to keep going, and she could hear a faint sound coming from inside the barn, like a heartbeat.
Slowly, she took a few more steps forward, until she walked through the door and disappeared into the darkness.
***
A couple of miles away, as the afternoon sun began to sink in the sky and long shadows spread across the land, the old abandoned shed stood isolated at the top of a hill of bluebells, framed against the dark forest beyond.
No-one was around at such a late hour, of course, but if there had been anyone in the vicinity, they would have heard Kari's terrified cries rising intermittently from the shed, occasionally being cut off only to return a few seconds later, each time sounding more pained and tortured than before.
Chapter Twelve
Today
The girls were still screaming when she got downstairs.
Racing down the steps at the front of the house, Paula stopped for a moment and tried to work out where the sound was coming from. It was two, maybe three in the morning, and snow was still falling heavily; her father had shoveled a path earlier from the door to the road, but having been woken just a few minutes ago by the screams, Paula hadn't even stopped to get dressed before rushing out. She was wearing just a t-shirt and underwear, and her bare feet were already chilled to the bone after a couple of paces across the icy path, but none of that mattered to her right now.
All that mattered was finding the girls.
“Hello?” she shouted, her voice echoing across the yard. “Where are you?”
The voices returned their answer, not in words but in a kind of howling, terrified cry for help.
Stumbling forward, Paula turned and looked around, but the scream seemed to be bouncing around the yard, giving no clue as to its true origin. There was no sign of a disturbance, though even when the screaming paused, she
could hear a kind of whimpering sound in the distance.
“Where are you?” she shouted again, before looking up at the farmhouse's windows. “Dad! Get out here!”
Although she was freezing cold and shivering, she didn't have time to go back and grab her coat. Something was pushing her onward, urging her to keep going. She hurried across the icy path, almost slipping a couple of times, before realizing that the screams now seemed to be coming from somewhere near the large barn on the opposite side of the yard. She began to pick her way through the piles of snow, her legs sinking past the knees as she waded through the drift. By the time she reached the bare cherry tree next to the barn, she stopped again and listened, realizing that the screams had once again dropped to a low, sobbing plea. One of the girls was begging for something – help or mercy – in a language that Paula didn't understand.
“I'm coming!” she shouted, wading through more snow, making slow progress but going as fast as possible, fighting her way through the freezing snow until she reached the far end of the barn. Stopping again, she looked out at the vast fields of snow that ran to the horizon, moonlit-blue under a dark sky that was filled with more falling snow. Listening, she heard something from the other side of the barn, so she made her way down the incline and past the battered old wooden doors, finally stopping as she stared at the dark interior.
After a moment, she took a step forward.
“What are you?” she whispered, feeling once again as if something was in there, calling out to her from the darkness, begging her to go inside.
She took a few more steps, before stopping and putting a hand on the wooden door.
“What do you want?” she asked, convinced that something was staring out at her from the darkness.
She took another step forward.
Suddenly she stopped, as she heard a child's voice from nearby, apparently sobbing. Turning, she realized the sound had come from around the corner. Although there was a part of her that still wanted to go into the barn, she forced herself to hurry around the corner, to where a large, battered plastic awning covered various pieces of farming equipment and kept them shielded from the worst of the weather.
