by Amy Cross
"Then I want to come," she says after a moment. "I want to see." She glances over at me, but she looks away again as soon as we make eye contact. It's clear that there's no way I can persuade her to change her mind, and it's almost as if she's trying to rebel against me.
"I need to make a phone call first," Robinson continues, heading to the car as Carmella continues to scream for help. "You two aren't the only people who've got a bone to pick with Simeon. A very good friend of mine will want to be there, and I need to make sure she's in place."
Chapter Five
Katie
"Okay, now calm down!" Simeon says, stepping back from the door as Robinson enters. "You look like the kind of guy who might be amenable to a deal, so maybe we could discuss terms? This isn't quite the open and shut case that it might seem, yeah?"
As Rachel and I follow Robinson into the house, I have to force myself not to lunge forward and wrap my hands around Simeon's throat. I swear to God, even the sight of his face makes me feel sick with anger, but at the same time I don't want to let him see that he managed to get to me. This Robinson guy seems to have everything under control, and it's good to see that Simeon's already terrified.
I want him to suffer.
"Katie!" Simeon says, pushing past Robinson and rushing over to me with a sickly smile plastered across his face. "How are you doing, darling? You're looking well."
"Not so fast," Rachel says, pushing the door shut so that Simeon can't make a break for freedom.
"Rachel," he continues, forcing a nervous smile. "Long time, no see. How did you get on with Carmella? I hope she looked after you, sweetheart. I had your best interests in mind when I asked her to take care of you, yeah? I do hope she did right by you. I was only trying to find somewhere more appropriate for you to live. That's the only reason I sent you away with her."
"You didn't send me away with her," Rachel replies. "You sold me to her."
"Carmella's not having a very good day," Robinson says firmly.
"Tough industry," Simeon replies, glancing toward the kitchen. It's clear that his mind is racing, and he's probably trying to work out the best escape route. "Why don't we all sit down and talk about this over a cup of tea, yeah?" he continues, turning back to Robinson. "I'll put the kettle on, and then I can tell you everything I've witnessed in this appalling place. Believe me, I've got some stories that'll chill your soul. The things I've seen, and yet have been powerless to stop..."
"I've had this building under surveillance for quite a while," Robinson continues, stepping toward Simeon. "I should have acted sooner, but I'm afraid I underestimated the operation you were running here. I thought you were small fry, but that's not quite true, is it? How many women have died in this place, Mr. Wilde? Can you even remember?"
"I think there's been a misunderstanding," Simeon replies. "I haven't worked for Carmella for too long, but I have to admit, I've come to realize that she might not have been on the up and up. To be absolutely honest with you, some of her methods are rather troubling, and I was already considering going to the authorities with my concerns -"
"Bullshit," I say darkly, incensed at his attempt to shift the blame.
"Carmella was going to kill me if I didn't help her," he continues. "She threatened me over and over, saying she'd kill me if I breathed a word to anyone -"
"You're a bad liar," Robinson says firmly.
"You don't believe these girls, do you?" Simeon asks, glancing over at us for a moment before turning back to him. "I think I understand what's happening here. It's tragic, truly tragic. Carmella was a master of psychological and emotional manipulation. She could make people believe the most awful things, and I wouldn't even be surprised if she could implant false memories in the minds of these poor, vulnerable, damaged young women. It's a tragedy, but we can only hope that with time and care, they might begin to heal the wounds that Carmella inflicted."
"How about the wounds you inflicted when you drowned me in the bathtub?" I ask, stepping toward him.
"Katie, sweetheart," he replies, "listen -"
And that's when he finally turns and tries to make a break for it. Robinson's too quick for him, however, and quickly manages to grab his arm and slam him into the wall before sending him tumbling across the hallway with such force that I hear a snapping sound as he lands, followed by a muffled cry of pain. Clutching his ankle, Simeon lets out a gasp.
"Look at them all," I say, glancing up the stairs and seeing that the ghosts have come to watch. They've always seemed so calm, and Izzy told me that their minds had begun to fade away a long time ago. Right now, however, they seem to be drawn to watch as Simeon suffers. I guess there's still some part of them that remembers all the horrors that have taken place in this house.
"I doubt any of them will have much sympathy," Robinson mutters, walking over to watch as Simeon struggles to stand on his broken ankle. "This man has caused so much pain over the years, I can't imagine that anyone in the world, alive or dead, would ever lift a finger to help him."
As the ghosts continue to gather, one of them starts making her way down the stairs, and I quickly recognize her as the figure that appeared to me on my first night in the house. Izzy told me that her name was Quix, and I only saw her the one time, but as she makes her way over to join Robinson, she glances over at me and nods, as if to acknowledge my presence.
"Do you want to take this one?" Robinson asks, turning to her.
She nods.
"Why don't we talk about this, yeah?" Simeon grunts, still down on the floor. "You seem like decent people, and I can maybe help you out. I've got connections, yeah? Knowledge is power, and I can plug you guys into a lot of knowledge."
"We don't want anything from you," Robinson says firmly.
"Yeah, but maybe I know some things that could be useful, eh? Underground connections, stuff like that."
"Save your breath," Robinson adds, as Quix leans down toward him.
As Simeon starts to scream, Robinson comes over to join us, and I can't help but notice that there's a very satisfied look on his face. I don't really know anything about him, but he clearly doesn't flinch from the more horrific parts of his job; in fact, I think he might actually be enjoying the sound of Simeon's terrified cries.
"Quix has been working undercover here for a few months," he explains calmly. "She's a part of my team, and I have to say, she's far more imaginative when it comes to finding ways of dealing with men like Simeon Wilde. By the time she's finished with him, he's going to wish he'd never been born." He looks back over as Quix starts dragging Simeon up the stairs, ignoring his cries for help. "I always prefer dealing with people who are still alive," he adds after a moment. "They have so much more fear."
"What's she going to do to him?" I ask.
"I imagine it'll be something very nasty," Robinson replies. "There'll be broken bones, torn flesh, that sort of thing. Quix is very patient with these things, but don't let that fool you. Beneath her calm exterior, she has some very inventive ideas." He pauses, before turning to me. "You can go and watch if you like. I've never been much for voyeurism, but some people find it cathartic. There's no reason to be scared. She might even let you join in if you ask nicely."
I pause for a moment. There's definitely a part of me that wants to watch Simeon suffer, and until a moment ago I was determined to enjoy every moment of his agony. Now that the moment has arrived, however, I feel a little subdued. I want him to pay for what he did to me, to all of us, but that doesn't mean I want to watch.
"No," I say eventually. "I'd rather not." Looking up at the gathered ghosts, I can't help but notice that there's no sign of Izzy. I'd been hoping that maybe, in some way, she might have been able to come back, but I guess that when Simeon consigned her to the flames, it was a one-way ticket. The ghosts have already started following Quix and Simeon, and from his increasingly anguished screams, it's clear that Simeon has realized that no-one's going to save him. Despite everything that has happened, though, I don't want to
watch his death.
"I want to see," Rachel says suddenly, surprising me. "I want to watch him suffer. I want to look into his eyes and know that he died in agony."
"Are you sure?" I ask.
"I've earned this."
As she makes her way up the stairs, I can't help but think that she's making a mistake. After everything that's happened today, it feels wrong to seek out more violence. Then again, I guess I don't really know what she's been through since she arrived in London. Maybe Robinson's right and it would be cathartic to watch Simeon being killed. Even if that's the case, though, I can't bring myself to follow my sister up those stairs. The knowledge that Simeon's paying for his crimes is enough for me, at least for now. I wish Rachel felt the same way.
"I hope she doesn't take too long," Robinson adds, checking his watch as Simeon continues to cry out for help from upstairs. "The night is young and we still have an appointment at the river."
Chapter Six
Rachel
He screams, but it's not enough.
It'll never be enough.
Quix is very inventive. With all the ghosts gathered around in a circle, she presses Simeon down onto the floorboards and then slowly dips the ends of her fingers beneath his skin, before starting to rip the flesh away in long, trailing threads. Simeon cries out for help, but all I care about is the sound of his skin being ripped like fabric as blood flows down over Quix's hands. It's almost as if my thoughts are getting lost in the noise.
The other ghosts watch in silence. It's hard to know whether they're enjoying this moment, or whether they're even capable of enjoying anything anymore. Still, they're here, which has to count for something. Some of them have been dead for so long, they must have been killed by Simeon's father, who died long ago and passed the family business on to his son. At least a few of the ghosts look to be more than a century into their new state, and their minds have probably disintegrated. I just hope that somewhere deep in their souls there's still a part of them that can enjoy this moment.
Simeon lets out a deep, guttural wail as Quix tears the skin from his face, exposing two white eyes flicking frantically in a sea of blood and meat. Not content with this, Quix places her hands around his head and starts to press. As Simeon groans, his skull starts to crack and splinter, and for a moment it seems as if he's to be granted a quick death. Picking her moment with perfection, however, Quix releases the pressure and leans over him, as if to make absolutely certain that he'll never forget who did this to him.
"Please," he whimpers. "No more..."
Ignoring his plea for mercy, she pulls his mouth open, reaches inside, and rips out his tongue. I watch in horror as she slips the bloodied mass into her own mouth, and she pauses for a moment, as if she's getting used to it.
"The foreplay's over," she says finally, glancing over at the other ghosts and eventually at me. "If any of you have a weak stomach, this might be a good time to leave." She waits for me to say something. "Well?"
I shake my head, even though I'm horrified by the thought of whatever fresh tortures she might be about to unleash.
Twitching on the floor, Simeon lets out another cry for help.
"It's weird having a tongue again," she continues, with blood pouring from her mouth. "I'd forgotten how my voice sounds. Are you sure you want to watch this?"
"I need to see him die," I say firmly.
"Don't say you weren't warned," Quix replies, fixing me with a calm stare for a moment before looking down at her victim. It's clear that she's enjoying this encounter, and that she intends to make Simeon suffer for a long time. There's even a faint smile on her face as she unbuttons his shirt, pulls the fabric aside to expose his bare chest, and then starts to snap his ribs out one by one.
"Quix!" Robinson calls out from downstairs. "We don't have time for this!"
She pauses, as if she's not sure whether to pay any attention to him.
"Quix!" he shouts again. "Get it over with! We need to move!"
Sighing, she pulls out the ribs above Simeon's heart before reaching her hand down and running a couple of fingers across the organ's frantically beating surface. She seems to be in awe for a moment, before finally starting to scratch at the muscle with her long fingernails, ignoring Simeon's continued screams. Seconds later, one of her long fingernails catches on the side of his heart and rips a small hole.
Simeon's final scream is like nothing I've ever heard before.
I can't look away.
Chapter Seven
Katie
"Izzy!" I call out, standing in the old bedroom. "Please, if you can hear me, give me a sign!"
I wait.
Silence.
Nothing.
"Izzy!"
"You're looking for someone?" Robinson asks as he comes to the door.
"My friend," I reply, turning to him. "At least, I think she was. She was a ghost here, but..."
"Let me guess," he says. "Lots of flames, some screaming, and then she was gone?"
I nod.
"I'm sorry," he continues, "but there's nothing that can be done. Simeon obviously consigned her to a much darker place."
"Can't you bring her back?" I ask.
He shakes his head.
"But you seem to know how these things work," I reply. "You have to be able to save her."
"I know very little," he replies. "Some things, but far from it all. I've never heard of a ghost ever being rescued after being burned, and I doubt it can be done." He pauses. "I'm sorry about your friend," he adds, "but there's nothing that can be done. At least we know Simeon won't be able to do anything like this again."
Walking to the door, I hear a loud thud coming from one of the other rooms.
"How can she do that?" I ask.
"Quix has a lot of experience with torture," he replies.
"I'm not talking about her," I add. "I'm talking about Rachel. How can she watch while Simeon's tortured? I get that she's angry, but I never thought she was the kind of person who'd be willing to watch as someone suffers."
"Perhaps she's changed," Robinson replies. "Perhaps she's been through so much, it's left a permanent mark on her soul." He pauses. "You shouldn't be too hard on your sister, Katie. She made mistakes, but she's not the only one."
"What about you?" I ask. "Have you ever made a mistake?"
"More than you can ever imagine," he continues. "A life lived without mistakes is a life scarcely lived at all. You should make peace with your sister while you still can. It's by no means certain that you'll have too many more opportunities, and take it from someone who knows: if you wait too long and run out of time, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."
"It's done," Quix says suddenly, stepping out from the room at the far end of the landing.
"Seriously?" Robinson asks, turning to her. "You stole his tongue?"
She smiles.
"About time," Robinson replies, checking his watch before hurrying to the top of the stairs. "We have to put things right tonight, or the whole city's going to end up under siege from some very angry ghosts."
"Is he dead?" I ask, watching as Quix follows Robinson downstairs.
"Of course," she replies with a faint smile. "His suffering isn't over, though. He'll burn forever."
As I head over to join them, I spot Rachel coming out of the room. She has a pained, shocked look in her eyes, as if she's struggling to truly comprehend whatever she just saw. I want to tell her that it'll be okay, and to try to make her feel better, but I can't bring myself to talk to her, not yet, not after the way she abandoned me. Smiling politely, I head downstairs. Rachel can't help me now, and if I try to rely on her, I'll just end up getting hurt again. I'm not a kid anymore, and I sure as hell don't need my big sister looking after me.
She can go to hell.
Chapter Eight
Rachel
Katie's so quiet as we drive through the near-empty streets. She's polite and she responds to any questions I ask, but she's clearly putting a little di
stance between us. I wish I could get her to forgive me, but I guess she's just trying to protect herself. In the long-run, she's probably doing the right thing.
It's getting late, and London seems to be almost deserted. The police have been working hard to restore order, ushering people away from the river on the grounds of trying to control public health. To be fair, they have a point: awe at the empty river has given way to concern about disease, with no shortage of rotting bodies having been discovered in the mud, and local water supplies having become contaminated. Rats, always a problem in the city, have begun to colonize the dry riverbed with great vigor, even going so far as to attack a number of people who ventured down to join them. More than anything, the stench is spreading far and wide. People are generally keeping well away from the river, preferring to drink their fears away at home.
"Alexander's at the dam," I say, checking a text message that just arrived on my phone. "They're still trying to work out what's causing the problem."
"They won't get very far," Robinson says as he keeps the car speeding through the streets. "They can't see what's causing it."
"Ghosts?" I ask.
"I hope so."
"What else could it be?" I continue.
"You'd never believe the possibilities," he replies.
"It doesn't have to be ghosts," Quix adds, wiping more blood from her chin. "It could be -"
"It's ghosts," Robinson says firmly, as if he's trying to put an end to the conversation. "Let's not get into a big debate here. The most likely explanation is almost always the right explanation, and I see no reason to muddy the water here." He pauses. "Pun not intended."
Quix turns to me, and I can see the look of concern in her eyes. She clearly doesn't agree with Robinson, but apparently she'd rather not argue with him. I'm not quite sure how their dynamic works, but Robinson seems to be in charge while Quix is called upon whenever she's needed. I watch as she grabs a tablet computer and starts checking something online. She might not be willing to argue with Robinson, but I think she's keen to make sure that they have a back-up plan, just in case her boss turns out to be wrong.
