The Darkest Veil

by Catherine Cavendish

  “Good idea,” I said and Suzie obliged.

  In the gloom, the atmosphere grew heavy in the room, not helped by a fug of tobacco smoke that hung in the air.

  I took another deep breath and my heart beat a little faster.

  We each rested the forefinger of one hand on the glass.

  I cleared my throat. “Spirit, are you there?”

  Another nervous giggle from Suzie.

  “Ssshh.” This from Diana. Next to me, Vicky waited, notebook open, pen poised.

  I tried again, as Lena had advised. “Spirit, this is a safe place. Are you there?”

  The glass trembled. I caught my breath as the floorboards creaked beneath our feet.

  “Oh my God!” Suzie snatched her finger away. “Did you feel that?”

  “Yes.” My voice wobbled. “Please put your finger back, Suzie. We need our combined energies.”

  Suzie did so, without another word. No one else spoke. I guessed everyone was as taken aback as me. This hadn’t happened yesterday evening.

  “Spirit, is that you?” I asked.

  The glass trembled again. Diana gasped. The tumbler seemed to be struggling to free itself. It began to shift. It slowly moved around the circle as if trying to familiarize itself with new surroundings. I watched in fascination as it snaked its way around the table.

  The glass stopped abruptly, against one of the white cards. “Yes,” I read. Vicky wrote it down.

  Suzie, Vicky and Diana were silent. As leader, I had to ask the questions. I had my next one ready, but with such a dry mouth, I could barely get the words out.

  “Spirit, thank you for joining us. Please, will you spell out your name?”

  The glass shot over to the white card on the other side of the circle—the one that read ‘No’.

  “But why won’t it tell us its name?” Suzie asked.

  The glass trembled violently, then darted around the board, stopping at letters and moving on so fast I could hardly keep up.

  I called the letters to Vicky. She wrote them down. We were all breathing heavily as the glass moved faster and faster, gaining momentum all the time. Finally, with one massive tug, the tumbler flew off the table and smashed against the wall.

  Suzie leaped up and snapped the light switch on. We blinked in the brightness and stared at the broken glass on the floor.

  “What the hell happened?” Suzie asked. “Who moved that bloody glass?”

  I shook my head and looked around at the shocked, white faces of my housemates.

  Diana recovered first. “I don’t believe any of us did. Alice, what did Lena say we should do when something goes wrong?”

  I struggled to collect my thoughts. “She said…we can do one of two things. We can either stop. Well, I suppose we have anyway. But we could start again if we choose to. Or we could call it a night.”

  “I prefer that option,” Diana said, rubbing her hands together. “Does anyone else feel cold all of a sudden?”

  I nodded and hugged myself. The room had grown chilly in the last few minutes and my breath misted when I spoke. “Shall we see what Vicky’s got?”

  Vicky had been forming words from the letters I had shouted out and stared at her notebook.

  I prompted her. “Vicky?”

  She looked up at me. “Oh, you’re all going to love this,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “Does any of it make sense?”

  “It makes sense all right.”

  “Then tell us!” Suzie’s impatience bordered on anger.

  Vicky glared at her. “Fine. It says ‘We are the thirteen. We are one. He is coming for you. He will take you with him.’”

  No one spoke as the seconds ticked by. Diana pushed her chair back and stood. “I’m going back to my room. I’ve had enough excitement for one night. Can I suggest that this is a one-off and we never do this again? I haven’t a clue what the hell that was and, frankly, I don’t think I want to know.”

  I nodded. The way I felt, nothing and no one would ever persuade me to tinker with forces I clearly didn’t understand.

  Vicky closed her notebook. “I told you what Dennis Wheatley said. Looks like he got it right.”

  Diana had her hand on the door handle.

  “Just a sec,” Suzie said, “Before you go, Diana, I’m going to ask the question we must all be wondering. Are you sure none of you moved that glass? I mean, we only meant it to be a bit of fun. If any of you were playing a bit of a prank, I wouldn’t care, but please own up to it.”

  “I swear I never moved it,” I said, and Diana shook her head.

  Suzie nodded. “I didn’t either, and Vicky didn’t even touch it. It felt like something was pulling at it—especially at the end when it flew off the table.” She shivered. “I’m going to get a bath and then I’m off to bed. After tonight, I think I’d prefer not to know what’s making those strange noises. In fact, I will say it’s a seagull. One with hobnailed boots.”

  Nervous giggles sounded from each of us as we trooped out of Suzie’s room and down the stairs. “Never again,” Diana said and we chorused our agreement.

  Anita met us on the first floor, her eyes wide and scared in her white face. She clutched the crucifix around her neck.

  “What have you all been doing up there?” she asked.

  “What’s the matter, Anita?” I asked. “You look scared to death.” The three of us gathered around her. She backed away. Her small hands trembled and tears flowed down her pale cheeks.

  “Keep away from me! You’ve been communing with evil. Don’t try to deny it. I felt it. Here.” She pointed to her head. “What have you done? What have you done?”

  “It’s a bit of nonsense, that’s all.” Diana said, reaching out a consoling hand. Anita smacked it away.

  “Oh, it’s far more than mere nonsense. To bring evil into our home…how could you?” She raced into her room and slammed the door.

  Vicky, Diana and I stared at each other. Finally, I spoke.

  “What was all that about?”

  Diana shrugged. “Search me. She must have been listening at Suzie’s door or something. I tell you, that girl is unhinged. She’s some sort of religious maniac.”

  Vicky led the way into the kitchen. “Maniac or not, she’s right about one thing. None of us has any explanation for what just happened up there. I’m only glad it stopped when it did.” She shook her kettle at us. “Tea anyone?” Diana and I nodded. “Let’s chalk it up to experience. We’ll laugh about it one day.”

  “I hope so,” I said, but something bothered me. Something I couldn’t fathom yet.

  Of course, as these things do, it hit me in the early hours of the morning. I knew we had broken one of Lena’s cardinal rules by using the Ouija at home, but until that moment, it hadn’t occurred to me we had broken a second.

  We didn’t say ‘Goodbye’.

  Chapter Three

  I woke suddenly to the slamming of the front door and peered across at my clock. Six-thirty. Someone was up indecently early. By the time I dressed and bumbled my sleepy way into the kitchen, I wasn’t alone. Diana leaned against her cooker, sipping a mug of tea.

  “Anita’s left.”

  That woke me up. “Left? You mean for good?”

  Diana nodded. “Packed her cases and gone. I couldn’t sleep and I met her coming out of the bathroom.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Not much. Just that she couldn’t wait to get out of here and we were all idiots. Or words to that effect.”

  “The landlord won’t be pleased. No notice and presumably no one-month’s rent in lieu. Should we tell him?”

  “Nah, let him find out his own sweet way. I’m off to work.” She poured some water in her mug and left it on the draining board.

  A sound like a gentle sigh wafted through the kitchen. Diana and I stared at each other.

  “Did you hear that?” I asked.

  “I think it came from over there.” Diana pointed at the cellar door.
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  “Probably the wind.”

  “Probably. Listen I have to go. See you tonight.”

  I waited a few more seconds, but the sigh did not repeat itself. Then, realizing I would be late, I hurried from the kitchen to begin my work day.

  Lena had no sympathy for us. “I knew this would happen. You’re messing with things you don’t understand, and now… Look, it’s like leaving an open gate for a herd of cattle to pass through. Who knows what will get in?”

  “But what can we do to make it right? To close that gate?”

  “It may already be too late,” Lena said.

  I thought back to the strange sigh Diana and I had heard.

  “Isn’t there anything we can do?”

  “If something has already gone through the portal you opened, it is really hard to get it to leave.”

  “Couldn’t we hold another séance and then close it properly?”

  Lena’s horrified stare gave me my answer. “Definitely not. That’s asking for more trouble. The only thing I can suggest is that you wait and see what happens. If nothing, you’ve had a lucky escape. As a precaution, I would burn or bury the cards, and do it as soon as you get home. The glass is smashed anyway, so make sure Suzie gets the remains out of the house tonight if she hasn’t already. Hopefully that will stop anything else from finding its way through in the future.”

  “Okay, I’ll do that.” I wished I could get the memory of that sigh out of my head. I almost mentioned it to Lena, but decided I already looked foolish enough without making an even greater idiot out of myself.

  Lena hadn’t finished with me yet. “One more thing. Alice, don’t ever mess with a Ouija ever again. You were the leader of that session and, if you did contact anything malevolent, it will target you. Believe me, a malevolent spirit doesn’t give up on its prey. It will find you, however hard you try to escape. Open another portal and it’ll be through there and onto you before you know where you are.”

  “Don’t worry, Lena. That experience was enough. Never again.”

  “Promise me you’ll burn those cards and get them and that smashed glass out of the house.”

  Two bright red spots, like overapplied blusher, flamed her normally pale cheeks.

  “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” I asked, fear infecting me and making my voice wobble.

  “Never more so,” Lena replied. “I could tell you some real horror stories of people who have done what you did. Let’s hope we’re not too late to prevent you from becoming the next one.”

  For the rest of the day, I could think of nothing else. I wondered what was going on in that empty house, where that sigh had come from. At around fourteen years of age, I thought I saw a ghost—my grandmother, who had died a year earlier. She always wore a distinctive Lily of the Valley perfume and, one day after school, I raced up to my bedroom to change out of my school uniform. I opened my door and the scent hit me. Out of the corner of my eye, I was sure I saw a figure move. My grandmother. It passed as quickly as it had started and the smell vanished, but, for weeks afterward, I felt a warm glow whenever I thought back to that incident. Maybe she had come to say goodbye. Perhaps my imagination played tricks on me. But whatever the answer, it comforted me to believe she was still around, watching over me.

  Back home that evening, I took all the cards outside into the yard and set fire to them. Suzie, brandishing a rubbish bag containing the shattered glass, watched the small conflagration as the flames burned lazily before gathering momentum. In a blaze of red and yellow, they suddenly shot up into the air and extinguished, leaving a pile of black ash.

  “That’s a bit weird,” Suzie said.

  I didn’t reply. My heart pounded and I gasped for breath.

  My ears pricked. “What was that?”

  I had left the back door open and from inside came a mournful wailing. A cold shiver shot up my spine.

  “Bloody hell!” Suzie grabbed my hand. “Who’s making that noise?”

  “I’ve no idea. Is it even human? Maybe a fox…” Even as I said it, I thought how ridiculous that sounded. For one thing, if a fox had decided to cross our threshold, we would have seen it. It would have had to brush past Suzie to get through the door.

  “Come on,” I said. “We can’t stay out here all night.” I tugged an unwilling Suzie. As I entered, the wailing stopped.

  “Now that is seriously odd,” I said.

  “I’m sure it came from the cellar,” Suzie said.

  “Have you ever been down there?”

  “No. I opened the door once. It was pitch black and this fusty, damp smell made me feel sick to my stomach. That was enough for me.”

  “What if something’s trapped down there? A wounded animal or a bird?”

  We crossed the floor and I realized I still gripped Suzie’s hand. I let go. We stood on either side of the cellar door and listened.

  I whispered to Suzie, “Can you hear anything?”

  She shook her head.

  The front door slammed and rapid footsteps advanced towards us.

  Diana marched into the kitchen. “Whatever are you two doing?”

  I put my finger to my lips. Diana came closer.

  “We heard a noise. Like someone crying,” Suzie whispered. “We think it came from here.”

  “Still nothing,” I whispered, and stood back from the door. Suzie did the same. “I was worried something might have become trapped down there, but I can’t hear anything now.”

  “Maybe whatever it is managed to escape,” Diana said. “Of course, we could always go down there and investigate.”

  Suzie backed away. “You’re not getting me down some filthy dark cellar,” she said, and shuddered.

  “I’d go,” I said. “But I’d rather not go alone.”

  Diana put her ear to the door, then stood back and turned the key in the lock. It moved easily enough. She turned the handle and Suzie backed away still further.

  “I don’t like this one little bit,” she said in a trembling voice.

  “Don’t be such a baby,” Diana said and opened the door. Its rusty hinges creaked.

  A fusty, unaired smell filled the kitchen. Diana felt around the walls. “Is there a light switch?”

  “I can’t remember,” Suzie said. “Possibly. Yes, I think there is.”

  “Got it.” Diana flicked the switch a few times without result. “Damn. Bloody bulb’s gone. Can’t even see where it is, it’s so dark in here.”

  “Why don’t we wait until daylight and take a couple of torches with us?” I said. “Maybe we’ll be able to fix the light bulb at least.”

  “Good idea,” Diana said. She took a tentative step forward and listened. “I can’t hear anything at all, so either there was nothing there in the first place or whatever you heard has made itself scarce.”

  “Or is lying low, waiting for its chance.”

  “Suzie!” I thought she was joking but her white face and tightly clasped hands spoke differently.

  Terror.

  “I’m going up to my room,” she said. “See you in the morning.”

  She left us alone. I waited until I guessed she had moved out of earshot. “Is she okay?”

  “I’m not sure. I think she’s probably still reeling from that séance business.”

  “Yes, that’s probably it.” But doubt gnawed at me.

  In fact, it would be Saturday before we plucked up the courage to tackle the cellar. What happened the next day saw us well and truly occupied for the rest of the week.

  I awoke to the sound of footsteps pounding down the stairs. I looked at the clock. Six-fifteen. Grabbing my dressing gown, I wrenched my door open and almost barreled into Diana who had her hand raised ready to knock.

  Vicky’s door opened and she emerged—like me, tying her robe around her.

  “It’s Suzie,” Diana said. “She’s gone.”

  “Gone?” Vicky said. “Gone where?”

  “I’ve no idea, but I heard this crash. It woke me
up. Her room is directly above mine, so I dashed up there, to find…well, come and see for yourselves.”

  By now wide awake, we followed Diana back up to Suzie’s flat. The door to her main room stood ajar. Inside, the chairs were knocked over, her bed was askew and unmade and the wardrobe doors were wide open.

  I peered inside. “Empty.” I had noticed a suitcase on top of the wardrobe on an earlier visit. It was no longer there. “Definitely looks as if she packed up and left, but why is the room in such a mess?”

  Diana called from the kitchen. “She’s left all her pots and pans, and it looks like she didn’t take any food either. The cupboard’s full.”

  “I don’t get it,” Vicky said. “Why would she up and leave without telling us?”

  “She did seem quite upset last night,” I said, and caught Vicky up with the previous evening’s events.

  “I always miss the drama,” she said. “Apart from the séance, of course.”

  “Oh God,” I said. “You don’t think her leaving is linked with that, do you?”

  “No,” Diana said, firmly. “And I don’t believe we should start getting carried away with crazy notions like that.”

  I nodded, trying to suppress the fear that threatened to swallow me whole. “You’re right.” I gazed around the room. “How about we tidy this room up so if—when—she comes back, she won’t walk into a tip?”

  Diana and I shoved the bed back against the wall.

  “What’s this?” I bent down and picked up a piece of crumpled paper, covered in symbols.

  “It looks quite old,” Diana said as she peered over my shoulder. “The paper’s yellowed. What are those?”

  Vicky stopped rearranging furniture and joined us. “What are you looking at?”

  I showed her.

  “Witch symbols. Most of them anyway. That five-pointed star within the circle is a pentacle. The square with the cross and the vertical line is a witch sign. The hexagram represents black magic. That’s not good news, and the inverted pentacle with the goat’s head is called the Sigil of Baphomet. That’s the symbol of the Church of Satan.”

  That impressed me. “How do you know all this stuff?”

  Vicky shrugged. “Told you. I read a lot of Dennis Wheatley and then I started reading other stuff. Until I got scared. That’s why I didn’t want to go through with that séance. I wish I’d stuck to my guns and persuaded you three not to meddle with it. I’ve read about people driven totally insane by their experiences.”