by Kristen Day
“Hey….guys?” Carmen murmured; her tone deadpan. A horrified expression had frozen onto her dark features, and we turned to see the reason all the color had drained from her cheeks. “Is….Is that it?”
Directly in front of us was the quintessential haunted house of childhood nightmares and horror movies, positioned on a decrepit acre of dead leaves. The ragged branches of a lone live oak tree had been stripped of its foliage, which now lay below. No other trees on the island had begun to lose their leaves yet, and the stark contrast chilled me to the bone. Once you were able to move past the layer of brown leaves and the overgrown stone path that used to be a driveway, the main attraction took your breath away.
The Victorian style manor was extremely out of place on an island of beach homes. Its majestic wraparound porch had been warped by the destructive forces of nature, but it still looked to be intact. Ruthless vines of ivy were devouring the entire house inch by inch, and most of the light gray paint had been peeled back from the exterior from years of relentless salt, wind and sand.
Several dormer windows were perched on the third floor overlooking the dreary landscape.
The suffocating darkness and mass of vines drenched the house in mystery; hiding its secrets from the world. It looked…patient. As if waiting for something. Or someone. I felt a gentle push from behind.
“Go ahead Stasia, you go first,” Carmen urged.
“The only way I’m going in that house is if every person out here goes in with me.” I stared at the drab, wooden front door that probably hadn’t been opened in eighty years, “And even then you might have to drag me inside.”
“What’s the big deal? It’s just a house. Just because an entire family was gutted inside doesn’t mean it’s haunted,” Ricker rolled his eyes.
“What are you waiting for, then?” Carmen raised an eyebrow at him and mocked him, “I mean since it’s not a big deal and all.”
Sensing a shifting movement on the road, I glanced down and followed a sheet of sand marching from the side of the road to gather at Phoebe’s feet. I met her gaze and smiled sympathetically. I knew from my own sand experience how comforting it could be.
“Yeah, man,” Ian stared at the house as if it could come alive at any moment, “That’s all you.”
“Ya’ll are pathetic.” Ricker shook his head and began to walk toward the house. Shaking out his arms and tilting his head back and forth like a boxer readying for a fight, he strode up the front steps with confidence, turned the knob and disappeared into the house. We held our breath as we waited for him to reappear.
“See?!” He popped back into the doorway with a triumphant smile shining on his face. “Ya’ll were getting all bent out of shape for no-“ Without warning, he was yanked from behind by an unknown force; leaving us with only silence and a dark empty doorway. Carmen started running first.
We all followed and made it to the open door at the same time. Without hesitation, we crossed the threshold and went into the dark house.
“Ricker!” Carmen screamed with obvious desperation and fear. Any apprehension I had about the house was wiped clean the second Ricker was attacked. Now adrenaline and determination were my only driving forces. The interior of the house melted together in a cacophony of dark shapes and shadowed doorways. The dust that had settled across its depths was at least three inches thick and quickly collecting in our lungs. I grounded my feet, centered my thoughts and concentrated on the open front door. All I had to do was think about a large gust of air circulating through the house and it came to fruition. I closed my eyes, focusing on the air and picturing it swirling through each room, over the walls, and around the corners; hoping to clear the dust.
“Remind me never to piss Stasia off,” Ian whispered and I heard Phoebe snicker.
As I opened my eyes, the wind receded. What it left was a dreary (although dirt-free) vacant shell of a house void of any color. The darkness of night had erased all ability to distinguish one room from the next as we searched for Ricker. We all had the same idea of turning on our cell phones to use as flashlights; careful not to step on any old, rickety boards that could end up hurtling us into oblivion.
“Ricker!” Carmen yelled again; panic-stricken. A light scraping sound from the corner brought our attention back to what I assumed was the library. We all whirled around gasping, as a figure stepped out from behind a curtain.
“Were you worried about me?” A crooked smile washed over his features.
“Ricker!” Never has one word held so many emotions. Relief, anger, happiness, and frustration were heavy in those two syllables. “What the hell are you doing!?”
“I figured it was the best way to get ya’ll in the house,” he said sheepishly. Tears rolled down Carmen’s cheeks as she walked up to Ricker and slapped him across the face.
“Scare me like that again and I’ll rip you apart piece by piece.”
“That’s my girl,” he murmured adoringly with a grin before his eyes dropped to the floor.
“I’m sorry Carm, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She stepped even closer and the second slap I was expecting was replaced by a hug.
“It’s a good thing you showed yourself. Stasia was conjuring up the elements to hunt you down,” Liam said to him with a smirk.
“Finn would be proud,” Ricker quipped with endearment before realizing what he had said. A sob began to build in my throat, but I pushed it down and frantically tried to think of something else to talk about.
“Did you see any ghosts while you were hiding?” I forced a grin. Relief washed across his eyes and he smiled back.
“Spiders the size of Volkswagens and one massive cobweb,” he chuckled. “Scariest moment of my life,” he glanced at Carmen and corrected himself, “Make that the second scariest.”
“Hey guys! Come look at what me and Ian found!”
Chapter 29
We gathered behind Phoebe in the dim hallway as she brushed her fingers over what looked to be a large, imposing oil painting in a gilded metal frame. As she worked, faces slowly began to emerge. A small girl. A boy. A beautiful woman dressed in a ruffled dress. She uncovered two more girls, another boy, and a handsome older gentlemen standing behind them all.
“The Drake Family…” Phoebe breathed in fascination.
“They look…stuffy,” Ricker commented; squinting his eyes.
“Way back then people didn’t smile for portraits or pictures. Think you could smile for an hour while somebody painted you?” Liam asked Ricker.
“Depends. Am I naked? I’d be smiling if I was naked.” Ricker inspected the painting further as Carmen punched him lightly in the stomach. “What?”
“Look at that little girl. She doesn’t look too good,” Ian said thoughtfully.
“She must have been one of the girls that died,” Phoebe surmised. The small girl was clearly emaciated; her clothes simply hanging on her slight frame.
“I can’t believe he killed his family,” I thought out loud as I examined Dr. Drake. He could have been any normal middle-aged father at the time, with dark hair that was slightly graying and a muscular build. A hint of pride evident in his features, he gallantly held his wife’s much more petite hand, which furthered my suspicion of the events that resulted in his family massacre. A resounding thump came from upstairs and we all stared wide eyed at each other, trying to decide if we should run or go investigate. My feet were leaning heavily towards running away from the house as fast as possible.
“Probably just a mouse,” Ian shrugged his shoulders. His eyes widened as we heard an even louder thump directly above our heads. “A very, very big mouse…?”
“I’m outta here,” Carmen muttered and took off towards the front door. We started to follow when we heard her scream. As we made it to the main room, we saw her standing in front of the door; unmoving except for the shaking of her hands.
“What happened?” Liam called out to her.
“It just shut…” her fear causing her to stumble over her words
. “…by itself!”
“It was probably just the wind,” Ricker tried to console her. She turned to us with a spark of madness in her eyes.
“There was no wind and I was nowhere near it. It just shut all by itself.” She swung back towards the door with her mouth still hanging open.
“Well, then we’ll just open it back up. That’s what they make door knobs for.” Ricker walked up to the door and grabbed the handle. There was a loud pop and his body was thrown backwards; crumpling onto the hard wooden floor. Dusting himself off, he stood immediately and made a beeline for the same door.
“Ricker I don’t think that’s a good idea-“ Liam started to warn him, but it was too late. He had grabbed the doorknob again and was sent flying once again; landing hard on the floor. Carmen rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I have never met anyone so stubborn,” she muttered under her breath, helping him back up.
I looked around for a window, but the closest one was back in what would have been the kitchen.
“Maybe we could open a window and get out that way,” I speculated, as I entered the would-be kitchen. Once in the center of the room, the substantial wooden door to the kitchen slammed shut behind me and I heard a distinct click at the window. I tried to wrench the window open to no avail.
The lock wouldn’t budge and the stronger my fear became the sweatier my hands were. That definitely didn’t help my already compromised dexterity skills. I ran back to the door and tried the knob. It wouldn’t even turn.
“Hey! Let me out of here!” I pushed against the door and started jostling the knob as I hard as I could.
“Stasia?” Phoebe’s surprised voice came from the other side of the door, “Stasia!”
“I’m stuck! I can’t get out!”
“Hold on!” I heard her walk away, followed by mumbling as they decided what to do. I scanned the bare cabinets and empty holes where an oven or ice chest would have been. As I glanced back towards the door, I cried out in unadulterated fear. Blood. Everywhere. It covered the door; the ceiling. I watched in quiet horror as a word was methodically written across the wall in deep red.
Penance.
My lungs squeezed as panic wrapped around my throat and shattered my courage. “Get me out of here!” I screamed, and started banging on the door. “Phoebe!”
I listened intently but was only met by a deafening silence on the other side of the door.
Where did they go? Did they get out the front door? Did they leave me? I quickly noticed that the word had disappeared, but the blood that had stained the walls was now flowing down in earnest now, puddling on the floor at my feet. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real. I closed my eyes and repeated it over and over. This wasn’t real.
I steeled myself and opened my eyes, and with a momentary wave of relief I let out a sigh.
The blood was gone. I twisted my head back and forth, hoping that I wasn’t just seeing what I wanted to see. I reached my hand out and lightly touched the door with my fingertips. Completely dry.
“Phoebe!” I yelled for her again, but was only met by more hair-raising silence.
“No!” A deep voice boomed behind me. I twisted around and met the eyes of a handsome middle aged man. “You can’t have them! Do you hear me?” he boomed. I took a step back, falling against a cabinet. He was covered in blood. His hands, his white shirt, even his trousers were drenched in crimson. My heart was jumping out of my chest but I did my best to calm down and speak clearly.
“I don’t want to take anyone! I promise!” I pleaded with him.
“You’re lying!” he boomed again, moving closer.
“Dr. Drake! I swear!” I covered my head but no retaliation came. I peeked out to see his face contorted in confusion.
“Drake?” He stood straighter, seemingly deep in thought.
“Isn’t…Isn’t that your name?” I guessed.
“It sounds familiar.” He stared at me, fascinated. “You aren’t like the others.”
“What others?” I asked, suddenly terrified.
“Get out.” His features hardened and he backed away.
“But Dr. Drake-“ I reached for him.
“Get out!” he yelled at me, and suddenly faded away.
“Phoebe!” I pressed my ear up against the door in order to hear something; anything.
“Carmen, don’t!” I heard Willow gasp, and the sound of bodies hitting the floor turned my stomach. Furniture scraped across the floor as I heard more scuffling.
“What’s happening to him!?” I heard Carmen scream.
“Carmen!” I yelled out, “Phoebe!”
My response was more muffled yelling and thumps, followed by a shrill scream. Then I realized the blood was back; once again dripping down the door and walls. I moved away as it ran down the cabinets. Now trapped in the middle of the room, I couldn’t escape the thick mass of red liquid.
“Scared of a little blood?” a voice mocked me. “Oh, boo freakin hoo.”
“Nadia.” I spun around and immediately ran at her, anger erupting through every cell of my body. “Why won’t you leave me alone?!” In a fit of rage I tried to tackle her, but she simply disappeared; causing me to land hard against the blood soaked wall.
“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” she snickered from across the room, and crossed her arms over her black leather mini dress. “So, how’s our handsome dark prince? Oh that’s right. He lied to you. Broke your fragile little heart.” She stepped closer and smiled, “You’re welcome.”
“When I become immortal, I will hunt you down….” I hissed at her.
She started laughing and shook her head at me in pity. “You really are a riot, Stasia.” She moved closer to me and the evil tendrils began to seep through her skin and into the air. Her golden skin began to shimmer as her anger grew. “You won’t make it ten minutes in the Underworld. And if you dare step foot in my river-“
“What, Nadia?” A streak of boldness shot through me as I stepped towards her. “What are you going to do?”
Her honey eyes darkened, “I wouldn’t want to ruin your pathetic story by giving away the ending. Patience, dear. Patience,” she patronized me with a smirk.
I stepped towards her again, “Let me go, Nadia.”
“Funny how you keep saying that,” she chuckled. “If you think you’re such a badass, get yourself out.” She smiled wickedly and then promptly disappeared. I ran to the door and tried the knob before resorting to banging on it some more.
“Phoebe!” The silence I was met with sent a wave of panic through me. I had to think. I looked around for something solid to break the glass window with.
“Why did you do this to us?” I froze as two small girls stared at me with nothing less than pure hatred. Their beautiful green and blue dresses were smeared with blood, culminating on their chests.
“Go away!” I screamed at them, “Leave me alone!”
“Don’t yell at my sisters.” The dead pan voice of another child sent my mind reeling as I took in the emergence of two boys; one ghostly white, and the other covered in blood like his sisters. They backed me into a corner, staring at me with menacing eyes and hateful frowns.
“I didn’t do anything to you. Leave me alone!” I yelled at them, but they continued to approach slowly and methodically.
“Stasia!” I looked behind the dead children to see that Bianca had appeared.
“Bianca! Help me!”
“You’re stronger than them! Use your abilities!”
My heart was beating out of my chest and I had lost control over my arms and legs. I couldn’t think straight enough to figure out what to do with my abilities. Frozen to the spot, I could only watch them advance.
“Bianca!”
“Say you’re sorry,” one of the girls demanded quietly.
“Bianca!” I met her gaze across the room and saw that she was crying.
“I can’t! She’s pulling me back! I’m trying to fight her….” I watched
in horror as Bianca faded.
“Say you’re sorry,” the other dead girl repeated, louder and more forcefully; bringing my attention back to them.
“No!” I yelled at them, hysterical with fear. “Get away from me!”
“Then you must die,” the sickly boy said plainly, as he produced a knife and plunged it into my heart.
Chapter 30
I was floating. It felt so effortless and peaceful, I could have sworn that I’d been air born my whole life. The freedom was liberating and soothing. Well, except for that awful rushing sound. It was so loud. Not to mention, it sounded like it was coming from inside my head. But that couldn’t be right. Maybe if I tried hard enough I could make it stop. Not only did my attempt not work; the rushing noise actually kicked up a notch. I decided to give up and resume my peaceful floating instead, as the numbness in my mind scrambled my thoughts and confused my memory. I couldn’t figure out why I was floating or how I got here; wherever ‘here’ happened to be. When I tried to open my eyes, a blinding light pierced my sensitive retinas and I snapped them back closed immediately. The darkness was less painful. Darkness. A pair of bright blue eyes flashed in front of me and I smiled. They were a startling mixture of light blues and grays; captivating my every thought. They blinked and disappeared. An intense sadness washed over me and knocked against my recently frozen heart.
I was so lonely. Empty. I wanted the eyes to come back. They brought warmth. Comfort.
Happiness. He was the only one who could save me. Bring me back to the whole person I once was.
Now I was shattered; pieces scattered about, never to truly be complete ever again. The lines had been drawn. The damage had been done. It was a cruel world, indeed, that would manifest the only cure from the very source of the pain and agony. I needed his touch; the warmth of his skin and the strength of his arms. I needed to hear his voice; see his heartbreaking smile. I desperately needed to feel the security his dark embrace always brought with it. He was my salvation as well as my inevitable undoing. In his capable hands; my heart had craved acceptance and love, only to be crushed beneath the pressure of his betrayal and lies.
