The Haunting of Caldgrave House

by Amy Cross

  Stopping a little way short of the girl, Maisie adjusts the blanket again as she waits.

  “Kid,” she says with a sigh, “seriously, just -”

  “Is she inside?” the girl asks suddenly, her voice sounding so frail and timid.

  “What are you talking about?” Maisie replies.

  “I hear her at night sometimes,” the girl continues. “I don't see her, but I hear her. I know she's still here, I know she still wants to make everyone hurt.” She reaches up and touches the side of her face. “She used to scratch me while I was in bed. She'd get angry if I cried out, so I'd pretend not to wake, but in the mornings I'd have so many scratches and it'd hurt so very much.”

  “Okay, that's enough,” Maisie says, holding her hands up. “We can all read stuff online and then go nuts about it, but you -”

  “She's everywhere in that house,” the girl says, interrupting her. “You must have seen her, or at least felt her. Please, you have to get out of there before she gets you. She hides, but she watches and eventually she'll come for you. She came for me, slowly at first but then more and more, and in the end I couldn't stand it. There was nothing anyone could do for me, even the good book was no match. She took out the pages one by one and began stitching them back in the wrong way. She laughed while she was doing it. She knew nothing could stop her.”

  “Nice story,” Maisie replies. “Now beat it.”

  “She did this!” the girl gasps, suddenly stepping forward and putting both her hands on the sides of her face. As she does so, thick scratches tear through her skin, running all the way up onto her cheeks and then around her eyes. “She'll do the same to you!”

  “What the hell?” Maisie says, stumbling back. “Are you -”

  And then the scream rings out, the same scream I've heard before.

  Maisie and I both turn and look back toward the house, and this time the scream hangs in the air for several more seconds before fading into the night air.

  “She's still here!” the little girl shouts behind us, her voice filled with terror. “She'll never leave!”

  “What are you talking about?” Maisie asks, turning back to her. “Hey, wait! Where did you go?”

  I turn and see that the little girl is nowhere to be seen. The bones are still on the ground, but the girl herself has vanished and there's no way she could have reached either the treeline or the hole in time. It's as if she simply vanished into thin air, and a moment later Maisie reaches down and scoops me up off the ground.

  “Okay, I'm officially not liking this now,” she says, turning and looking all around. “That scream... I think I might have heard it before. Years ago.”

  I whimper and struggle to get free of her arms. I can't protect her properly if I'm up here.

  “Maybe I was too hasty to write this all off,” Maisie says, backing away slowly toward the car. “Hugo, would you be awfully offended if we cut our night short and just got the hell out of here?”

  I feel a rush of relief as she hurries around the car and reaches to open the door, but then the handle merely clicks and Maisie lets out a few curses under her breath.

  “Okay, the keys are in the house,” she says, stepping back from the car for a moment. “Of course the keys are in the house. Why would they be anywhere else? Of course I left the bloody keys in the bloody kitchen! Damn it!”

  She turns and looks toward the house, still holding me in her arms. The front door is wide open, revealing the darkness within.

  “It's just a house,” Maisie says, her voice tense with fear now. “I go in, I get the keys, I come out and we leave. That's simple. Thirty seconds, maybe sixty at most. Whatever's going on here, sixty seconds isn't enough time for any...”

  Her voice trails off, and then she slowly sets me down on the ground.

  “You're gonna stay right here, Hugo,” she says, before stepping past me. Turning, she holds a finger up for me to see. “Remember? Stay! Do you remember that word, Hugo? You don't need to come with me. In fact, I want you to stay out here, because then I'll know where you are. If I go in alone, I only have to worry about myself. So... Stay!”

  She turns to go into the house, but then she leans back down to me and kisses the top of my head.

  “Two minutes, Hugo,” she adds, “and we're out of here forever. I promise.”

  With that, she turns and hurries up the steps.

  I immediately rush after her, but then she looks back at me and holds her finger up again.

  “Stay!” she says firmly.

  I know that word, but I don't want to stay.

  I want to go with her.

  “I know you understand me,” she continues. “Stay, Hugo! Stay!”

  She pauses, as if she's waiting to make sure that I obey, and then she heads through the doorway and into the house.

  Every instinct I possess is telling me to go after her, but somehow I force myself to stay right where I am. I've always known that Maisie's in charge of me, that she's right and that I have to obey her. I remember her training me to stay, and I always got a treat whenever I did what I was told. It feels wrong to be sitting here now, but I'm torn between my instincts and my training and somehow I force myself to sit right here and watch the door.

  She'll come out at any moment now.

  She has to.

  Maisie is -

  Suddenly there's another scream, and this time I know it's Maisie!

  “Get away!” she yells, followed by the sound of glass smashing and wood breaking. “Don't come near me!”

  I start to get up, before remembering what Maisie said.

  “Stay, Hugo!” she told me. “Stay!”

  But -

  She screams again.

  “Stop!” she shouts. “What do you want from me?”

  More glass breaks, and finally I get to my feet and run up the steps. I know I'm being wrong, and I know Maisie might be mad at me for this, but every fiber in my body is telling me to run to her right now. Even as I race through the door and into the hallway, my heart is pounding and I know that I have to be at Maisie's side. I can hear her still shouting, and the noise seems to be coming from the kitchen, so I run through and then I freeze as I see that Maisie is on the floor with her back against one of the kitchen cabinets.

  And the broken-jawed woman is leaning toward her.

  “Get away from me!” Maisie screams, grabbing a broken chair leg and waving it at the woman, only for the leg to get yanked away and tossed across the room. “Leave me alone!”

  I hurry under the table and over to Maisie, and then I stop and bark at the woman as she reaches out to grab Maisie.

  “Run, Hugo!” Maisie shouts. “Run!”

  She scrambles to her feet, but almost immediately some invisible force slams against her and pushes her back down against the cupboard. She lets out a pained gasp, before grabbing a shard of glass and holding it up toward the face of the broken-jawed woman.

  The woman, in turn, tilts her head slightly and then moves her twisted jaw just a little. A faint, guttural groan emerges from her mouth, but her jaw is too badly damaged for her to actually say anything.

  I bark again, before stepping toward her and snarling with such ferocity that my teeth are on full display.

  The woman's jaw opens slightly, as far as it can, and she lets out another gasping, mournful hiss.

  “Something's keeping me here!” Maisie yells. “I don't know how she's doing it, but she won't let me go!”

  The woman reaches toward Maisie again. Maisie turns her head away and screams, but the woman slowly places her left hand against Maisie's cheek.

  “Help me!” Maisie sobs, squeezing her eyes tight shut. “What do you want!”

  I lunge at the woman's arm and bite hard, but somehow my jaws go straight through and I slam into the cabinet. I try again, but the result is the same and this time I fall against a leg of the old dining table. Turning, I try yet again, but once more I thud into the cabinet.

  “It's so cold!” Maisie whi
mpers, as the woman leans even closer. “Leave me alone! What do you want?”

  As I continue to try biting her arm, the broken-jawed woman leans closer to Maisie's face and lets out a long, slow gurgle.

  Chapter ThirtyOne

  “Mamma, stop!”

  Turning, I see that the pale girl is standing in the doorway, watching us.

  “Mamma, leave her alone!” the girl shouts, taking a step forward. “Mamma, it's okay! I think the book's gone now. I don't know how, but I can come into the house, which means you can leave it! Mamma, we can go!”

  I bark at the broken-jawed woman again, but she seems frozen for a moment as she stares at the girl. And then, slowly, she tilts her head and lets out an agonized cry as tears start streaming from her eyes.

  The pale girl hurries around the table and falls at the woman's feet. The woman drops to her knees and reaches out, and they embrace one another as I continue snarling at the woman in case she threatens Maisie again. At the same time, however, the woman seems to have turned completely away from Maisie and instead is holding the sobbing pale girl tight while letting out a series of pained gurgles.

  “Thank you!” the girl whimpers. “Thank you for giving her back to me!”

  “What the hell is this?” Maisie stammers, pulling back against the cabinet as she stares wide-eyed in horror at their embrace. “Why are you pleased to see her?”

  “Poor Mamma,” the girl continues, reaching up and putting her arms around the woman's shoulders. “I saw everything that happened to you she killed me. I tried to stop it, but I couldn't. They all blamed you – for the scratches and everything else – and there was nothing you could do to convince them, but I promise I know you did your best. The Bible worked, Mamma. It kept her from hurting me after you buried me in the garden, but it also kept me from coming back to you. Once it had been perverted with the upside-down pages, it needed to be destroyed. I know you were searching for it in the house, but it was buried above me all that time. So I waited. I couldn't even speak, I was lost without you, but I waited. Do you see?”

  The broken-jawed woman lets out another pained murmur as she strokes the girl's hair. At the same time, she leans closer to the girl and hugs her tight.

  “I found you again,” the girl sobs. “Mamma, I heard your anguished screams as you relived that last night over and over. I couldn't get to the Bible to destroy it, but I knew one day we'd have a chance. Now we can go. I don't know where, but we can leave this place and go to whatever's next. We can do that together, Mamma, can't we? We can go together. Please, Mamma, say it's so.”

  At this, the woman lets out another cry, but this time she seems to be crying tears of joy.

  “Mamma's simple,” the girl says, turning to Maisie. “People don't always understand that. She's simple, but she's ever so kind. She'd never hurt anyone.”

  “You have to leave too,” the girl continues. “While you still can. Leave and don't come back. Make sure no-one ever comes here again. Just leave it alone, don't try to kill the evil because then you'll only make it stronger. The witch is trapped here, she can't leave, she can only feed on people who stumble into this house. Just leave it all alone and -”

  Suddenly she looks over at the empty doorway, as if she heard something.

  I snarl at her again.

  “This house is haunted,” she continues, still watching the doorway. “It was haunted before we came here, and it's still haunted now. There was a real witch here, long ago. She was buried beneath the house, to trap her, but she's still alive down there. She manipulates the people who live here, she feeds on the suffering of the families she tears apart. She eats the sorrow of a child who loses a parent, or a husband who loses a wife.” She reaches up and touches the side of the broken-jawed woman's face. “Or a mother who loses her daughter.”

  She looks up suddenly, toward the ceiling, with fearful eyes, and then she turns back to Maisie.

  “You have to run before she wakes up again,” she stammers, as her mother holds her tighter. “I see the scars on your neck. The witch has already reached out and scratched you while you slept. She knows about you. She'll be awake any moment, I think she's waking now. When she does, she'll try to get you down there again. You have to get away from here before it's too late. Why aren't you going already? Why don't you understand?”

  She pauses, with pure fear in her eyes, and then she screams:

  “Run!”

  And they're gone.

  Both of them, the broken-jawed woman and the pale girl.

  They flicker out of sight in the blink of an eye, vanishing together.

  Gone.

  A strong breeze is blowing outside, causing the tree-tops to rustle in the darkness beyond the window.

  “What the hell was that?” Maisie whispers, her voice trembling with shock as she stares at the spot where – moments ago – the two figures were locked in an embrace. “What the hell just happened?”

  I paw at her foot, hoping that we can leave now.

  She turns to me.

  Suddenly there's a faint bumping sound upstairs, and then a second, and then a third.

  Maisie and I both look up at the ceiling and then, as the thuds continue, we both look over toward the doorway and out at the staircase.

  The thuds stop.

  “Hugo,” Maisie whispers as we sit in silence, “did you just see all of that? I mean, did it really happen, or have I somehow passively smoked a massive amount of weed?” She stares at me for a moment. “You were growling at it, weren't you? You were growling at them, which means you saw them too, which means they were really real, which means...”

  Her voice trails off, and her eyes open even wider as an expression of shock crosses her face.

  “Which means we just saw a ghost,” she adds finally. “Or... two ghosts. They were real. And they -”

  Before she can finish, we both hear a bump coming from upstairs.

  We look up, and I listen as the house falls silent again.

  A moment later, there's another bump, this time coming from the room above us. A third bump follows, more of a soft thud really, and then yet another, almost like footsteps moving across the floor of Maisie's old bedroom.

  “Who is that?” Maisie whispers, her voice filled with fear. “Hugo, who else is in the house?”

  As she says that last word, the footsteps stop as suddenly as they began, and the house falls silent again.

  “Who is it?” Maisie asks, still keeping her voice low. “Who the hell else can it be?”

  The hairs are really standing up now on the back of my neck, and after a moment I let out a low, involuntary growl.

  “Quiet!” Maisie hisses. “Hugo, just stay quiet!”

  I know that word, but I can't help myself. It's as if the air itself, all around me, is getting colder and closer, as if something in this house is slowly curling its attention toward us. I've never experienced such a strange sensation.

  “Okay, move!” Maisie says, suddenly picking me up and getting to her feet. “I've got the keys, so let's get out of here.”

  She carries me through to the hallway and then over to the door. I look over at the staircase, but I don't see anyone there, and then a moment later Maisie carries me out onto the porch and then finally down to the yard, where she stops and turns to look back at the house.

  “You heard those footsteps, right?” she whispers to me.

  We both stare at the open door.

  “It was probably just in my mind,” she continues. “I'm probably just cracking up, but...”

  Her voice trails off for a moment, and then she turns and carries me quickly to her car.

  “Something about this place is giving me the heebie-jeebies,” she says. “Good job I've got a therapist, huh? I think I might have to start seeing him twice a week for a while, just so I can work through all of this.” Opening the car door, she sets me on the passenger seat, and then she pauses before turning and looking over her shoulder.

  Following her
gaze, I spot the pile of bones resting in a patch of moonlight.

  “One more thing,” Maisie says after a few seconds. “Before we leave, Hugo, I have to do one thing.”

  Chapter ThirtyTwo

  “I'm sorry, little girl,” Maisie says as she rolls the bones down into the hole in the ground. “I know it's not much, but I've never buried someone before.”

  Once most of the bones are back down among the tree roots, she turns and picks up the skull, holding it in her hands for a moment.

  “Freaky,” she whispers, staring into the skull's two empty eye sockets. “Do you think this is really her, Hugo? Do you think this is really the girl who was talking to us in the house?”

  She touches the scratches on the skull's side, and then she touches some scar tissue on the side of her own neck.

  “I don't remember much about the time we lived here,” she says finally. “My therapist thinks I'm blocking certain memories because my parents were fighting so much. I guess she might be right, but sometimes I wonder whether I'm blocking something else. I don't remember getting scratched that night, and Mum and Dad didn't really want to talk about it ever. I had to piece things together from flashes of memories, and from little tidbits Mum and Dad occasionally let slip when they were drunk off their asses.”

  She stares at the skull for a moment longer.

  “Mum said they never contacted the police or anyone because they were scared,” she continues. “They were worried they'd be accused of causing my injuries. And since they no longer needed the money from selling the house, they just left it all alone. I suppose I can see why they made that choice, but something's got to be done. As soon as we get home, Hugo, I'm calling everyone and making sure this place is torn apart so that every little secret is uncovered. If there are really ghosts here, then let the world know. I'm not a fan of secrets, not after living with Mum and Dad.”

  She pauses, before kneeling down and gently lowering the skull into the hole.