by Sam Stone
‘No. How did you get on?’
‘I spoke to Isaac. But he laughed off what I said. Told me that was “superstitious nonsense, and not usually the kind that white folks indulged in”. But I felt he knew something.’
I glanced back at the house. ‘Pepper, there’s something wrong with Henry and Maggie too.’
Even though I didn’t want to let out my brother’s secrets I found myself revealing what I had overheard on the balcony.
‘They are really unhappy and I don’t know why. Amelia is part of this too. She keeps hinting that my brother drinks … but he’s barely touched a drop in the last few days: I’ve been watching him. Then tonight she implied they would never have children.’
‘If there’s a rift between them … that may be the case,’ Pepper said.
‘But why? They are married and … oh. I see what you mean, they may not be consummating …’
I drew in the evening air and tried not to remember that I was having a very intimate conversation with a man. Pepper was after all my best friend, and he didn’t count in that way at all, I told myself. After all we had seen and been through, this was nothing.
‘I wish I could just ask them outright. Why does everything have to be so … proper?
‘It seems to me that a lot of this is about Maggie,’ Pepper said.
‘How do you surmise that?’
‘Well, Maggie ran away with your brother. To do that they must have been very in love.’
‘Precisely … so what has happened since?’
‘They came back here …’
We both looked back at the huge white house. The windows looked like eyes watching us. And I sensed that ripple of adrenaline that usually accompanied some kind of demon visitation.
Henry was on the balcony smoking a cigar. He appeared to be looking out over the cotton plants, and towards the servants’ quarters. We saw Maggie come out to him. She seemed awkward and unnatural as she approached. Not at all like the happy newlywed she should be. She reached out a hand and placed it on his arm, but Henry pulled away as though her touch burned him.
‘You see?’ said Pepper.
‘Yes … they definitely have some disagreement …’
‘I don’t mean them. Look behind Maggie …’
The balcony was only lit by the light coming from their room and so it was difficult to make out anything more than their shapes. But as I squinted upwards I noticed the dark shadow that lurked behind Maggie, a shadow that couldn’t possibly be there given the light and the way it reflected outwards. Indeed the natural shadow from both of them fell over the edge of the balcony, confirming that the dark shape we could see wasn’t part of Maggie at all. But as she moved it followed, as though it were inexplicably attached to her.
‘It’s up there with them,’ I said.
Henry left Maggie and went back inside. She watched him go, then turned and threw an irritated glance in the direction of the shadow.
‘Leave me alone, damn you!’ she said.
I had withdrawn my Perkins-Armley from the thigh holster under my dress and was pointing it towards the shadow as I ran across the lawn towards the house. Pepper was at my side, sword drawn from his cane. There was an exterior staircase that led upstairs, and the two of us hurried up there and onto the balcony towards Maggie and Henry’s room, but by the time we got their the shadow was gone and so was Maggie.
‘What the hell is it?’ I said. I was beginning to feel really frustrated by the whole situation.
‘It did looked like, a ghost, a phantom of some sort …’ Pepper said. ‘Just as you described.’
‘Well it’s obviously causing this family some problems. So, how do we kill it? Or exorcise it I suppose would be the right term …’
‘I don’t know, Kat. I really don’t. This isn’t like anything we’ve come across before.’
9
The drums entered my dreams again, building to a barbaric crescendo that culminated in what sounded like a scream of abject terror.
‘Sally!’
I leapt from my bed, gun in hand – extracted from beneath my pillow by pure instinct – and hurried to the door that led out into the corridor. This was the direction the noise came from, and now, wide awake I could still hear the drums beating in the distance. I hadn’t imagined them at all!
I threw open the door and stared down the dark corridor. All was silent. It was as though the scream had fallen on deaf ears, or only I had heard it.
I waited. The landing remained empty. No one was coming, and so, thinking myself a victim of that overactive imagination that Nanny Simone spoke of, I went to close the door with the intention of returning to my bed.
Could it be that I had been dreaming after all?
The drums abruptly stopped.
A low sob permeated the walls as though the house was crying. I froze.
The sound came again. Small, frightened. Perhaps the tears of a child. It wasn’t Sally though, I was sure of that much.
I considered fetching the small lamp on the table, but I have excellent night vision. A lamp would spoil that, and would mean that my hand was not free to fend off any potential attacker.
I reached for my robe, slipped it over the thin cotton nightshift I was wearing and picked up my Perkins-Armley. The leather handle felt warm in my palm as I pulled back the safety catch.
I closed the door behind me and crept along the corridor towards where I thought the sound was. As I passed Mother’s room, I pressed my ear to the door and listened. From within I could hear the whistle of Mother’s breathing, but otherwise all was quiet. Reassured that the scream had not come from Sally, I moved on.
I passed the room that Sally had initially occupied and then went on towards Pepper’s room. I listened at his door. I was surprised that he hadn’t come out by now. He usually had a sixth sense about these things. I contemplated knocking and waking him, but I was still uncertain if this was all my imagination – Pepper’s silence seemed to confirm that there had been no loud scream – and I didn’t want to appear to be an hysterical female. Not that I really believed Pepper would think that of me. But it did briefly cross my mind.
I had noticed that there was something about this house that was changing us all, making us behave differently. And I have to confess, I was feeling nervous, far more so than normal. Part of it was because I wasn’t sure what I was dealing with. Lack of knowledge of the creature also meant that I didn’t know how to destroy it. This made me feel slightly insecure. I mean, how do you kill something that appears to be nothing more than shadow and has no corporeal form?
Beyond Pepper’s room were several other doors, which I assumed all led onto other bedrooms. I listened at them all, hearing nothing. I couldn’t remember if any of the other visiting family were down here, but I had a feeling that all of these rooms were empty.
I was about to turn back when I heard the whimper again. It appeared to be coming from the very last room. I reached for the handle and turned it, but the door was locked.
I had left my lock picks back in my room. I glanced at the gun in my hand – this was no use in this situation, though it may well be handy at some point. I felt that surge of frustration and anger again. An irrational mood crashed over me. I wanted to see inside the room and find out who was crying, and more importantly why. The thought that I couldn’t get inside made me feel an overwhelming rage.
I took a deep breath. What was wrong with me? I was usually so calm and methodical in these situations. I turned to leave and at that moment the door clicked open, as though someone on the other side had turned the lock.
The door swung inwards of its own volition and light filtered out from an oil lamp that was lit inside the room. I stepped forward cautiously. I saw a little boy sitting in the middle of an overlarge bed in the centre of the room. He was crying softly.
I lowered my gun and crossed the threshold.
There was a rush of air, it felt as though I had just walked under a waterfall, and the room
beyond was a vacuum of sound. I could now hear nothing of the normal house creaks and groans beyond and the little boy in the bed rubbed his eyes and mewed softly as though he were afraid. I hid the gun at my side so that I wouldn’t frighten him further.
‘Are you all right?’ I asked. ‘Did you have a bad dream?’
The boy looked up at me. He appeared afraid for a moment.
‘What’s your name?’ I said.
The boy just stared at me. The light was caught in his eyes, making them appear abnormal. They glowed as though gold shards reflected in them.
‘I guess you must be one of Amelia’s little boys?’ I said.
‘How did you get in here?’ asked the boy.
‘I came through the door,’ I said.
‘It was locked. I’m not allowed out.’
‘Why not?’ I asked approaching the bed.
‘I was bad. I’m being punished.’
‘Getting into mischief is part of growing up,’ I said. It all now made perfect sense. ‘So what did you do? Parents have a habit of overreacting to …’
I stopped talking and stared into his eyes. Now I was closer I could see them more clearly. The child had amber eyes, just like Orlando’s. He was a nephilim.
‘Perhaps I can talk to your mother. Ask her to forgive you,’ I mumbled trying to hide the recognition.
If this boy was Amelia’s it meant that she too had been seduced by a demon. Her child was half-demon, just like her brother was. The connotation was not lost on me. It also meant that there was a demon living on Pollitt Plantation. Maybe it was the ghost I had seen, or maybe that was just drawn here by the evil it felt.
‘What was it she was punishing you for?’ I asked again.
The little boy smiled. ‘I tried to drown my sister.’
‘You did what?’
‘It was only a game …’ said the boy. ‘She can be so irritating.’
The boy was smiling widely now. As though he had just told me the nicest thing in the world. I found myself backing away to the door. The boy was clearly insane, or just plain evil. I remembered the weapon in my hand and tried to raise my hand, but it felt too heavy, as though some cord had tied it to my side. I looked down. I felt terror. Fear like I had never known. This thing was controlling my arm. I couldn’t raise it no matter how hard I tried. I had to get out of here. Call for help.
My other hand fumbled at the door, twisting the handle. I didn’t even remember it closing behind me.
‘It’s locked,’ said the boy. ‘I told you.’
‘No … I just walked through it!’
‘No. That would have been impossible.’
My limbs became weak. Arms and legs began to ache with the effort of forcing them to move backwards against the door.
The boy remained in the bed, staring at me.
‘You’re not really here,’ he said as though he were trying to help me, but I knew that couldn’t be the case. He was evil, through and through. Not at all like Orlando … I was starting to believe I had been right that nephs could choose the human or the demon path. Perhaps choice was the key.
‘You don’t have to be this way …’ I said. ‘You can deny the demon side in you.’
The boy threw back the covers and slipped to the edge of the bed. He was looking at me with intense curiosity.
He slid bare-footed onto the cold floor. He was wearing a long white nightshirt that almost reached his ankles and hung from his shoulders as though it were several sizes too big.
‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘Why are you here?’
He began to walk towards me. I felt weak, defenceless and terrified. All emotions I was unaccustomed to feeling. The weight of his gaze drained all the energy from me and I fell back against the door as my knees gave.
I found myself tumbling back into the corridor as though the door I had been struggling to open had never even been there.
I stared through the doorway. The boy stood wide-eyed, unafraid, but curiosity was still the main focus of his expression.
Now I had crossed back into the house a rush of sound came back to my ears. The creaks of settlement, the subtle sounds of snoring from a room somewhere along the corridor. I felt the strength returning to my fingers and although I was tangled up in the hem of my robe I pulled my gun in front of me and aimed it at the half-breed demon as he stood in the doorway.
He didn’t step closer however. As he reached towards the frame, a surge of energy, like a rush of wind, pushed him backwards. He stumbled, fell and turned to stare back at me as the door slammed shut.
I heard a loud click. A lock firmly engaged. Then I stumbled to my feet and hurried back down the corridor.
‘There’s nothing there,’ whispered Pepper.
‘This is impossible,’ I said quietly. ‘Pepper there was a door here. I opened it. I went inside. There was a nephilim child inside.’
Pepper examined the wall. It was smooth, covered with patterned paper that would have shown the crack if a secret door had been there. The skirting boards were all one perfect piece along to the next room.
‘Do you think I imagined it?’ I asked, as Pepper’s thorough examination revealed that a door could not possibly have been hidden in those few short moments when I had gone to his room.
Pepper stepped back and frowned. ‘No. I don’t. But possibly you were dreaming. However I’m inclined to think you saw what you say you saw.’
‘Thank you,’ I was relieved that my friend believed me, even if the evidence wasn’t there to support what I had seen.
‘I just don’t know how this is possible though,’ Pepper said. ‘But then, nephilim’s are still unknown to us. We have no idea what magic they are capable of performing. The best thing we can do is check this out again in the morning.’
‘You’re right.’ I’d had quite enough excitement for one night.
We turned back quietly down the corridor with the intention of returning to our rooms.
‘Whatever the power is, I don’t think – despite his comment about trying to drown his sister – that the child was doing it,’ I whispered suddenly. ‘It was almost like I was expelled from the room, and when he tried to follow me out, he was thrown back inside. That’s when the door closed and locked again.’
I stopped outside Pepper’s room and turned again to say goodnight.
‘I’ll walk you back to your room,’ Pepper said.
‘No need. I’m only three doors away.’
‘I know but this place has me rattled. I’ll feel happier if …’
‘All right,’ I said. I was badly shaken by the experience, particularly the way my strength had been taken from me.
I opened my bedroom door as soon as we reached it and Pepper went inside, lit the lamp and looked around the room. I waited patiently, allowing him this little piece of male pride. Even though I felt there was no need, it did give me some reassurance.
‘All clear,’ he said after checking inside the wardrobe for the third time.
‘Thank you,’ I said. Then I leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. ‘I’m feeling exhausted now.’
Pepper backed out of the room, but his hand had gone to his cheek where I had kissed him. As though the gesture had come as a complete shock. And, I must admit, it surprised me too. I don’t know why I had done it. Kissing Pepper, even on the cheek, was something I had never even considered doing before. I closed the door quickly, and left my stunned friend on the other side. Was I turning into some kind of weak and sentimental female after all? This house, this place, was definitely making me behave more out of character every day.
For good measure I went to my carpet bag and pulled free the Remington-Crewe laser. I hadn’t used this weapon for a while: the last time was in the warehouse when Pepper and I finished off the skinners. This weapon always felt good in my hand. I had seen it slice through metal, it could cut down anything corporeal that the Darkness had to offer.
I turned off the lamp, and climbed back into the bed again. My
behaviour was odd. I knew that. All of us were acting strangely. Even Pepper with this new found gentlemanly concern for me, especially when he knew I was completely capable of taking care of myself.
I slid the Remington-Crewe under my pillow beside the Perkins-Armley after making sure the safety was on. Then I turned over and closed my eyes.
As I drifted off to sleep, I felt strangely cold. As though there was a cool breeze blowing in from the balcony. But I remembered that I had closed the doors earlier. Although I remained still my eyes opened. I forced my breath to regulate, mimicking the sleep-breathing that I had heard coming from Mother’s room earlier.
The cold grew more intense. Through slitted eyes I could see my expelled breath clouding the air. Carefully I slipped my hand under the pillow and felt the cold copper of the gun against my fingers as I wrapped them around the handle.
There was something in the room with me. I felt it move, a kind of disruption in the atmosphere, as well as the change in temperature that signified, and confirmed, its presence and I knew it was the shadow from earlier.
I secured the Remington-Crewe in my palm as quietly as I could, then I felt a stifling, claustrophobic sensation as the shadow drew closer to the side of my bed. A heavy pressure rested on top of the bedclothes. If the thing had weight, then it had substance. I drew the gun, pulled back the covers and fired the laser directly into the space the thing occupied. Light exploded into the room, but inky-blackness was all I could see above me.
The weight increased and I found myself crushed down. I tried to yell, but the thing covered my face. My breath was stifled. I struggled. The Remington-Crewe fell from my fingers and my hands clawed at thin air. A thick substance appeared under my finger nails and smeared my skin wherever I made contact with the space the creature should have occupied. It was there, but it wasn’t, and it was somehow killing me.
The door burst open and the thing released me. I saw Pepper illuminated like an avenging angel, sword spinning in the air, as I slowly lost consciousness.
