Whitney’s knees felt like they were going to give out at any moment as she approached the door and put her sweaty palm on the clear knob. The blood circulation in her hand pulsated as she slowly turned the glass knob.
She pushed the door and the hinges creaked to create an ominous greeting. She could feel the history as she stepped through the frame and into the dusty old courtroom that looked like a capsule frozen in time.
The judge’s bench still sat at the front of the room with the jury stand next to it and the defendant’s desk in the middle. There was a waist high wooden barrier behind the desk and chairs lined up all the way to the back of the room.
“Alright, let’s find a good spot.” Whitney tried to sound encouraging.
Bo squinted and tilted his head. “Is there a good spot?”
Whitney had read many books on the subject and knew damn well that there wasn’t a good spot anywhere in Dankstone, especially in a room that had led directly to all the women’s deaths. She tried not to think about Ellen McCarron and the murdered ladies of Dankstone.
They laid out their blankets and passed an energy drink back and forth. It seemed like a good idea at first, but now it was just making Whitney shake in paranoia. Her head kept jerking around because she thought she had seen several things zip by. She looked like a confused motion detector and took a deep breath to slow down her racing heart.
The first day and night, Whitney and Bo didn’t experience any real issues.
The second day cruised by as Whitney checked the time. 5:47 p.m.
She couldn’t believe it. Whitney thought that because she had spent so much time in Dankstone already, that the ghosts respected her and would leave her alone.
The room had a creepy vibe to it and there had been some strange sounds and bursts of wind out of nowhere but nothing terrifying, like the previous experiences.
“So, when can we get the hell out of here?” Bo asked.
“I don’t know. The guy said two days but he said he was going to call when we could leave.” Whitney pulled out a pack of cheese and peanut butter crackers.
“RING. RING.”
Whitney was startled and ripped the plastic bag, sending orange fragments flying. She jumped up from the chair behind the defendant’s desk to get the phone out of her bag.
“Hello.”
The voice said, “How are we doing? Is this as much fun as you had expected?”
“It’s fine. Can we leave now?” She walked up toward the judge’s bench. She picked up the gavel and inspected it for a few moments before setting it back down.
The man laughed. “Oh, no, no, no. The fun is just about to begin. And since you will be having fun I want you to know that your husband will be having fun too. Your little female friend is frisky to say the least and she buddied up to your man posthaste. I left before I saw too much.”
“Shut up, you piece of shit. I’m so sick of you hiding behind a phone antagonizing me.”
The man said, “Well, duh, that’s what antagonists do. I haven’t seen enough misery out of you yet. I might be one of the richest men in the world, but I haven’t exacted my revenge from you.”
The man hung up the phone and Whitney threw the black rectangular piece of hard plastic at her duffle bag.
Bo joked, “I guess that wasn’t the good call?”
“No. I’m so sick and tired of this prick.”
She sat down on the ground next to Bo and as he patted her on the back, a loud banging sound came from straight ahead. The black wooden gavel kept rising and falling rhythmically on the judge’s bench as if an invisible hand was controlling it.
A voice echoed through the room. “Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. All of you witches are guilty. You are all sentenced to die. Every last one of you.”
Whitney wrapped her arms around her best friend as the soft voice grew louder.
“Witchcraft carries a penalty of instant death. Hang this woman from the apple tree.”
The stale, hot air in the room couldn’t prevent a chill from coursing through Whitney’s entire body. The gavel stopped pounding the bench and the small wooden object flew across the room, crashing into the wall and shattering into many pieces.
The next hour or so went by without any interruptions as Bo and Whitney uncomfortably snuggled on the floor of the former courtroom. They barely talked and both kept peering around nervously. The room had carried a different vibe since the gavel pounding.
A wheezing cough slowly intensified into a shrill collection of voices screaming in pain. The hoarse female voices seemed to be coming from several different directions.
“Get off our land. We will kill you if you don’t leave Dankstone.” The words bounced off the walls.
An uneven, swirling wind originated in the center of the room and knocked over some wooden chairs. Years of dust bunnies danced in the air and Whitney covered her mouth with her hoodie to avoid sucking in any of the aged filth.
Whitney and Bo jumped to their feet and stood back to back so nothing could sneak up on them. Bo was shaking uncontrollably and Whitney thought she might have been holding his taller body up.
The overpowering wind split the two friends apart and kicked some old grime into Whitney’s eyes. She rubbed her stinging right eye and tried to ignore the continuous cascade of screams.
A cold breeze hit the back of her neck. Whitney spun around and screamed.
Whitney stood face-to-face with a translucent skeleton that had grayish white hair and bright blue eyes. The skeleton’s breath hit Whitney’s face and the rank odor almost made her pass out. It was worse than the aged cheese that smelled like sweaty socks.
The skeleton’s mouth opened and a mighty scream blew Whitney’s head back and caused her to fall. Two skeleton ghosts surrounded Bo and his shaggy blond hair rippled back and forth as the ghosts appeared to be having a screaming contest with Bo stuck in the middle. Bo and Whitney were both bawling as a negative energy continued to build in the room.
The ghosts moved into the viewing area with the chairs in the back. Whitney hoped they might be safe for a few minutes.
Bo’s teeth were chattering as he spoke. “We need to get the eff out of here, girl. He’s not really going to kill Trent if we leave. That’s just crazy.”
“This guy is crazy, Bo. Don’t get any ideas. As long as they are over there, I think we’ll be alright.” She moved closer to Bo.
“Screw that. I can see crazy skeleton ghosts over there. This shit isn’t right. I don’t know how much more I can take,” Bo said, nearly out of breath.
Whitney now had to worry about Bo as well as dealing with these troubling ghosts.
The ghost with the silver hair and blue eyes picked up one of the heavy wooden chairs and launched it against the wall.
Bo yelled, “What? I mean, what the hell was that?”
“Stay calm, Bo, they are just trying to scare us.” She kept inching closer to him and he slid his feet to stay away.
Whitney panicked as the blood flow to her head began to slow down to a crawl. Her vision went out of focus. She almost fell back, but Bo had been standing behind her so she just bumped into him and straightened herself out.
Another witch ghost with black hair and green eyes picked up a chair and heaved it with great velocity at the judge’s bench, busting both pieces of furniture into several pieces.
The three ghosts started yelling in an unknown language and throwing chairs against the ceiling. Whitney and Bo backed away uncomfortably, trying to avoid the falling shrapnel. The circular wind kept increasing like a tornado as it pulled objects from the desks and spit them out in random directions.
Whitney didn’t know how much longer she would last if these freaky activities kept up. The black-haired ghost picked up a chair and sent it whizzing past Whitney’s face. Her heart skipped several beats and she could feel nervous blood pulsating through her body like when you narrowly avoid a major car accident.
The blue-eyed witch underhand heaved another chair over W
hitney’s head. Whitney dove behind the defendant’s desk and used it as a shield against the flying objects.
“Bo, get over here. They can’t hit you from here.” She motioned with her right hand.
Bo’s frantic voice cracked like that of a pubescent boy. “Forget that. I’m sorry, I don’t want to get anyone killed, but this is too much.”
“No.” Whitney screamed and jumped up with blatant disregard for the deadly flying furniture.
Bo ran for the front door and there was no way Whitney could catch him before he made it out. Tears ran off her face as she contemplated the possibility that she would never see her husband again.
“Bo, don’t do it,” she screamed in vain.
10
Bo made it to about five feet from the door when two wooden chairs flew end over end and exploded against the door. Bo tried to watch the witch ghosts over his left shoulder and get to the door. He turned sideways and slithered toward the exit.
The shiny glass knob started to turn and the door opened inward. Three full-figured women with green skin entered the courtroom. The ghosts seemed to be incensed as they trashed more chairs and furniture.
Whitney recognized Helga, Pelga and Melga, the witches from back home.
Pelga said, “I told you these bitches wouldn’t like the green paint.”
“What are you doing here?” Whitney asked.
Melga spoke over the hissing moans of the three ghosts and the whirling wind. “We came to help. Remember when we promised we would help in the future if we could. Well, here we are. These three bitches over there are just the beginning of a long parade.”
Bo said, “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Helga spoke in calming tones. “Not to worry, my human friends. We will take these spirits away from you. The three of us will draw them outside so they leave you two alone.”
Pelga went back to the door and opened it. She looked back and yelled, “Hey Whitney, you got any smokes this time?”
Whitney shook her head. She would have smiled except for the extreme circumstance. Her human witch friends exited through the front door and left it open. The three ghosts conspired in the strange language in a huddle before floating out the open door.
Whitney ran over and shut the door. She walked back to the middle of the room and collapsed next the defendant’s desk. Air rushed in and out of her heaving lungs as she breathed through her nose. Her mouth was dry and she cracked open a can of Coca Cola.
She hoped that sound wouldn’t arouse any more ghosts. Bo came over and lay down next to her. The caffeine didn’t do much for her mental and physical exhaustion. The past week had taken Whitney beyond the limit. She just wanted to cry but instead she fell asleep.
A sharp ringing sound woke her up and she slid over to the green duffle bag to get the phone. She rubbed her eyes to make the answer button come into focus, pressed it, and put it up to her face.
“Hello.”
The voice said, “You cheated. I should kill him right now, you know.”
“For what?” an exacerbated Whitney asked.
The man sounded high-strung. “You brought other people into the house. I never said you could bring other people into Hanging House. You cheated and now I’m going to kill your worthless husband.”
“You never said that nobody could come into the house. You sound like a little baby right now, you know that.” Whitney had heard enough from this guy.
The kidnapper retorted, “Baby? Baby? I’ll show you how a baby reacts when I finally let you see your husband. Only he’ll be in a body bag. Call me a baby. At least I am a man of my word. Your friends are waiting for you outside by the apple tree.”
Whitney jumped up and woke Bo up as she started to gather up all the stuff they had brought with them. She ran to the front door and twisted the knob. The harsh sunlight seeped in as the door opened and Whitney ran outside with hope in her heart.
She turned left and stared at an apple tree with nobody anywhere around it. Her hope plummeted and she heard a faint chuckling coming from the phone that she still clutched in her hand.
“You sick bastard,” Whitney said into the mouthpiece of the phone.
The man said, “You are close. Go back and regroup with your friends and wait for the final call.”
He hung up.
Final call? Does that mean that this nonsense is finally going to come to a stop?
Bo asked, “What’s going on?”
“That guy’s being a stupid joker again. Playing with my emotions. Let’s go back to the motel.”
They walked back to the car and Whitney slipped on a patch of mud. She strained her knee and tried to slowly bend it back and forth to work out the pain.
“Are you alright?” Bo asked.
She stretched her knee a few more times and said, “Yeah, let’s go. This place gives me the wilies.”
They hustled back to the car and raced out of Dankstone. The two best friends rode to the motel in silence and got out of the car. Whitney walked up to the room and flung open the door to catch a nice visual of Darominius pleasuring himself.
She turned away and screamed, “Come on, dude. What has gotten into you?”
The dragon shifter hurriedly put his robe on and tried to conceal his excitement.
He lowered his head. “Once you awaken something that has been asleep for a long time, that entity wants to live it up, so to speak.”
“I can see. You’re dunking that tadpole anywhere you can.”
Bo objected, “Hey.”
Whitney put her hands up. “No offense.”
“Alright, whatever,” Bo said and collapsed onto the bed.
“Hey Darominius, do you know the witches Helga, Melga and Pelga?”
The shifter smiled. “I do know them, yes.”
“You didn’t bang them too did you?”
He chuckled. “No, nothing like that. We are mutual friends with our spirit friends, the friendlier spirit friends, that is. They are three great women, I can tell you.”
“Yeah, they helped us out bigtime,” she said referring to herself and Bo, who was snoring on the bed.
Darominius said, “That’s great. Perhaps all this will be over soon.”
“How are you feeling? Is your body okay after being tossed into that tree trunk a couple of times?”
Darominius said, “Don’t worry about me, young lady. I am strong like bull once again.”
Whitney laughed. It was the first genuine laugh she had let out since Trent had been kidnapped. It felt good to finally have a small release.
She asked, “So when we went back in time, was that your family?”
He sat up straight in the chair and his eyes were glossy. “Some of them, yes. I’d rather not bring up anything depressing. Let’s talk about your family. They are a lovely bunch.”
“They are and I feel awful for lying to them even though it hasn’t been that long. I keep thinking I’ve been lying to them for over a month until I realize that we have only been here for about a week. I can’t keep just texting back that I can’t talk now. They still think that I am on the honeymoon.”
Darominius shook his head. “Sorry. I was trying to give you something good to think about.”
“No, it’s alright. So, what are you going to do if we get Tara back and you have to choose between the two?” Whitney asked, pointing to Bo.
He had a smirk on his face. “Why should I have to choose? They both seemed to have a good time with me.”
“Not sure that’s going to work out for you, buddy. Lots of guys try that these days and I don’t think it usually ends very well. If I were you, I would probably try to figure out if you like one of them.”
He said, “I’m not sure it really matters much at all. I am always going to need to help other people so I can’t have a standard relationship anyway.”
Whitney climbed up on the bed with Bo and continued her conversation with Darominius until her eyes became too heavy to hold open.
The ri
nging phone awakened her from a refreshing slumber.
Before she could say anything, the man said, “It’s show time.”
11
“It’s time for your final adventure,” said the creepy voice on the phone.
“Oh great, what’ll it be this time?”
The man said, “Sarcasm, huh. This will be the easiest one yet. You get to go to Dreamland.”
“What does that even mean?”
The kidnapper said, “You will find out soon enough. My great heist is just around the corner and you might die trying to save your stupid friends. If not, you will be in another world when I strike. What a happy day. This time it will be you and you alone. You can’t bring any of your friends along. It’s all on you whether they will live or die. I know what I would bet on.”
He hung up and conflicting emotions ran through Whitney’s body. She was excited to finally have a chance to see and save her friends but scared about what exactly that would entail. Bo and Darominius had woken up as Whitney was talking on the phone and the two groggy men started to get dressed.
“What’s the word, hummingbird?” Bo asked and yawned.
“So he says this is the final mission. I need to go alone to see if I can save Trent and Tara.”
Bo asked, “What is it this time?”
“I still don’t really know. Something about a Dreamland but I don’t know what that even means.”
Darominius said, “I wish we could have been more help along this ride, but you have shown great strength and willpower during this terrible time.”
Whitney felt like she was going to be sick again and tried to concentrate on making the belly pains go away. She hadn’t really been eating much due to the morbid setting.
“Apparently this is my journey. I appreciate everything you guys have done and I still feel awful about Tara.”
Bo said, “Stop beating yourself up about that. Darominius has told me that this will only make you stronger for your future missions.”
Lost In Dreamland: Whitney Powers Paranormal Adventure #3 (Whitney Powers Paranormal Adventures) Page 8
