“Yes, of course.” Any donation big or small, I didn’t mind. All I wanted was not to become a murderer like Roger.
“Please send me your email address and I will send you instructions on how to prepare for the cleansing.”
“Sure. Sure. I can do that. It’s deedee at Gmail dot com.”
“Thank you. I will come two days from now after morning sunrise, right after six am.”
“Thank you, Father. I’m so grateful. Do you think you can help me?”
“Yes. I think we can. We may not get it all the first time, but we have been 100% successful in the past with such clearances.”
I hung up the phone and began to sob profusely. All of it was too much to bear. I wanted this calling to leave us alone and for us to move on.
Sunlight cast its glow through the kitchen bay window. I so loved to look out. Now it seemed like a curse to have the window there, for when I looked out of it my eyes drifted over to the forest. Roger owned it now. What was my life? One of fighting evil forces. I vowed I wouldn’t let it take over my children or my life. We came for the sweetness of country life, not for this.
***
Dee. Dee. You must practice. You’re not ready. Come with us. Come with us. Come to the forest. Taste the blood. See. It’s fun to kill. See.
I woke up to high-pitched screams from the children. I must have drifted off in the afternoon as I was fast asleep only waking up due to their noise.
“Omigod! What is this? What is this?” Stabbing beats hit my chest. I feared the worst as my mind raced through all the possible options.
“I don’t know, it looks like a huge rat or something.” I heard Dusty’s voice. I shot up out of bed as I looked over at my white sheets. Oh no, please no. No, no, no. Bloodstains and smears were soaked into my white nightgown. I touched my body, patting myself down as my head pounded, feeling as if it was about to take off. Did I kill? If I did, what did I kill?
Amber ran into my room gasping for breath. “Mom. Mom. You did this? The front porch?” she accused me with her eyes blinking hard.
“Amber, please, I don’t know what I've done. Please.” I begged her. She gave me a look of disgust as I flipped my hands over. They were covered in blood. I remembered what Roger said when he killed for the first time.
“I have to get out of these clothes. I have to get a shower.”
Howling, I shook my red hands in front of my face. “It can’t be. I didn’t do enough.”
I ran to the front of the house and onto the porch where the children were. Cleo and Robbie gasped as Dusty shuffled them behind him.
“Mom, what the heck!” There on the porch was a raccoon with a knife through its chest and another, and another, and a bird. All the animals were laid out like prizes and each with different wounds. Limbs of the animals were strewn from one end of the porch to the other. I was losing air, the world spun in different directions as I felt myself falling into a heap on the ground...
Spitting out water I inhaled a deep breath, coming to. “You fainted Mom,” Amber explained. “I had to splash water on you.” She held a blue water pail in front of her as she pushed the wet strands of my hair back from my face.
“Thank you.” The mini blackout didn’t take away the fact I’d killed animals. “The priest is coming tomorrow. He can help. I know he can.” As my eyes looked at the animals I began to blubber again.
Amber shook me out of it as Dusty brought out a garbage bag, gloves, and bleach. I cupped a hand to my mouth and tried not to throw up. “Mom. What happened? Do you remember?”
“No. I don’t remember. I don’t. I can’t sit here in these clothes. I have to get a shower and help you guys clean up.”
“This is messed up. You’re killing animals. We have to figure this out. It’s getting bad.” Worst of all, my daughter was looking at me as if I was a monster, and from the roadkill display on the front porch, I would say she was probably right.
“You’re right.” I sniffled, feeling sorry for myself as I got up with Dusty and Amber’s help. I couldn’t stand the looks on their faces. I lowered my head and headed for the shower to rinse away the gross smell of dead animals.
“Okay.” I got in the shower and rinsed myself down, top to toe with the soap, scrubbing everything I could. There were pieces of raccoon meat clinging to my nightgown. It was going into the bonfire, never to be worn again.
Father Clarence arrived at the crack of Echo Creek dawn right as the sun shone through the gaps between the forest trees. Along with him were two women of the cloth. Father Clarence held a large cross in his hand and came with rosary beads and a large jar of what appeared to be holy water.
“Good morning, father,” I greeted him stoically as I kept the screen door open for all three of them.
“Lovely home, you have. I’m sister Bell and this is sister Arn. We will assist you today in cleansing the home, and you.”
“Thank you so much for coming.”
The priest walked in with his hands behind him. His hair was side-swept over a face that was dominated by a large mustache. “You’ve bathed and you’re all in white. Perfect. We will waste no time, I do want to see the whole house first, however.
“Sure. Everyone is gone. The children are away at school and my eldest is at work.”
The priest didn’t look at me at all, he simply moved through each room dipping his head and making small unrecognizable sounds as he passed each one.
“Good. We will start. I heard all you’ve told me. We want to draw it out first, then we can see what we’re dealing with.”
“Okay. What do I need to do, Father?”
“We will pray over you first and cover you spiritually, then we will begin the process.”
The women brought out a belt and handcuffs which alarmed me. “Why do you need those items? What is that?”
A stern look came from the priest as his brow knitted together. “In case we need to restrain you.”
Amber ~ Chapter Six
“Mom is at home with the priest. I wish I was there, but she sent me here to work. I don’t know, I feel like I should be there.” More so, it was fear dominating me. I didn’t want my mother to kill again. Every time I opened the memory to the past and all the crimes my father had committed, my heart went into an overdrive..
“Settle yourself. It’s quiet today so we can go over the history of the house and see if we can’t figure this thing out. There is a certain shadow that exists in that house. I felt it as I sat there. It’s almost impossible to grasp. There exists an invisible force that cannot be seen, but it can be felt. I noticed it as I sat on the stool in your kitchen.” Harry, in his usual storytelling way, delivered the news, sending my heart into a flutter. I was too young to be dealing with level of stress, and to make matters worse I was drinking lots of coffee, adding to my increasing heartrate.
“I feel it too now. I notice it when I’m away from the house. It’s dark and cozy here and I feel good, but the house gives me the creeps sometimes,” I admitted to him.
“Right, did you have a chance to read the book I gave you?”
Feeling embarrassed about the dead rodents my mother had killed on the front porch I cleared the phlegm out of my throat. “No. I had to deal with some other stuff.” I didn’t think that Harry had to know the extent of that incident, and besides, I wanted to protect my mother. I didn’t want the animal cruelty division to be called.
“Okay, let’s get down to it, shall we?”
“We shall,” I quipped as I pulled out the heavy-hitting local book. “The history of Echo Creek. W. R. James is the writer, looks like.” The book was old and tattered on the front and looked like it had been opened by a lot of people. Seemed like a lot of people wanted to know about our town’s history.
“Him. Let’s check out the local bio.” Harry dropped his glasses down on his nose as he looked inside the book. On the inside flap was a black and white photo of a man who looked like a farmer.
Standard author bio and nothi
ng interesting, or so I thought…
I have been observing 666 Echo Creek Road for many years and it has become an icon next to the Old Manor on Grand Echo Road. For different reasons. This spiked my interest as it did Harry’s.
The next page began to fascinate me. I read it out loud. “Before Echo Creek became Echo Creek, back in the 1950s, these were the grounds in which the massacre and rape of over 30 men and women occurred over the course of twenty years. It took the police years to catch the killer. Bryce Newton. Quiet sort of man. Kept to himself and ran a small farm, offering room and board in exchange for work. This small ad in the paper led to his victims falling into his trap. I think I’m going to be sick. I can’t believe this.”
“I knew that house was diseased! I could never work out what went on. Still doesn’t explain exactly who the voice belongs to, though. Keep reading.” Harry pushed me on, even with the nauseated feeling in my stomach.
“There’s the woods where Dad was killed. That’s part of the area Bryce buried some of the women he killed! This is disgusting. No wonder we were duped into buying the house. It’s cursed. Look, look at this! He says that a banker who owned a department store had millions embezzled by a staff member named Kimberlee Watkins! Look at the spelling of her name. There it is! That’s it, Harry. It’s him talking to my mother. It’s him!”
“Wait, wait, wait. Going back to my original question, who is speaking to your father in order to kill? Surely it wasn’t the serial killer and rapist? He killed these women, yet they were innocent. Your father was beaten, and he only killed those who did the same to others. It doesn’t make any sense at all. Then this banker is talking to your mother telling her to kill a lady because he suffered losses from a similar employee? It’s all a little strange to me. There’s missing information in here and it’s not being shown to us.” With all the passion in Harry’s voice, I could tell he was now as determined as me to resolve this.
“You hooo. Is anybody here? I’d like to buy a book. Does anyone work these days?” A lady muttered in an uppity tone at the front counter as Harry and I broke out of our reading trances at the back of the store.
“Yes, certainly, I’ll be with you in a moment. Come on. We can get back to it shortly. This is too good not to finish. I need to know how we can defeat this sucker.”
The lady was a little on the prissy side and it was obvious she was a tourist passing through town. She wore a pair of tanned leather gloves which she pulled off to reveal glossy red nails. Her big eyes were drifting around the bookstore.
“Cute little place you have here. I quite like it. I would like to buy the book on the counter.” She dipped her finger towards the book dismissively as she ran her hands over the bestsellers on the front counter. I automatically disliked her.
“What do you know about the old manor?”
Harry hissed at me as I was about to speak and tell her about the murder. I didn’t know why I wanted to spook her a little, but then I realized we were in the same boat. Nobody told us about 666 Echo Creek Road either. Neither of us answered straight away as we fussed and thought for a minute over it.
Her swan-like neck and pinched nose turned back to us. “I said what do you know about the old manor that’s up for sale?” My face was going red, I knew because I could feel it and I managed to get one jibe in before Harry grabbed the bottom of my arm.
“Well, if you watched the news, you would know what’s going on.”
“What did you say, little girl?” She batted her false eyelashes at me for a moment, annoyed that I’d talked back to her.
“What she meant to say is that the old manor is not without controversy. It’s a definite icon of the town that’s for sure.” I rang up the book she wanted to purchase without looking at it. I put the book in a brown paper bag and pushed it forward on the counter.
“That will be $9.99 including taxes, thank you.” She slid a ten-dollar bill over the counter looking at Harry.
“Oh, you mean the little dam murder and the murder of the father? Tsk. tsk. I do my research.” Did she have no remorse? What a bitch.
Who was this lady and what did she want with the manor?
“Umm. What are your plans for it? I do hear there is an auction going on soon.”
“I’m aware. That’s why I’m here. I want to buy it and restore it to its former glory. I think it can be done. Might need some work, but I have the financial means and the time. It can be like my pet project.” She smiled showing all her gums and a slow burn of hatred started to float through me. This lady was really pissing me off, and I wanted to get back to the late W.R. James.
“Good for you. I hope it goes well.” Fake sincerity was the name of the game as I handed her book over.
“I’ll invite you to the opening once renovations get underway.”
Harry scoffed at her. “You have a few other people who are trying to buy that property, you might have a battle on your hands, I think.”
“You doubt me? That’s a bad idea. Trust me I will win that auction and I will get the old manor back up and running. You’ve had enough tragedy in this town, don’t you think?”
What I think is, it’s a tragedy, you’re even here. Please leave town now.
The voice of my mind wanted to vent through my lips, but I kept them wired shut and gave her an irritated smile in return.
Dee ~ Chapter Seven
The priest made me sit in the middle of the living room as they circled me, chanting from the Bible in a language I was not familiar with. As they moved around me like birds, I felt my anxiety begin to lift away. The chanting was so peaceful I began to drift off and I felt as if a light was running through me.
“Now, you may stand, and we have one thing to do before we call the spirits of the house to see what they want. Are you okay to stand?” the priest asked.
“Yes, I’m okay to stand.” Peace washed over me for the first time in a year. So much baggage was being borne by the energy that Roger left behind and the turmoil ‘The Calling’ caused in our family.
Sister Arn spoke to me. “You’re doing very well. We’ve cleansed a lot of negative energy from you. We want your energy to be clear so the entity cannot step inside your body.”
The priest pressed his Bible to his chest for a moment, then put the tawny brown book out in front of him. “Place your hand on top of the book for me now, Dee.” I did as he asked.
“I ask now for protection over us all as we uncover the evildoers of this house. Thou shall not stand and reside in the presence of God. We rebukee thee! We rebuke thee! We are protected by the Most High, no evil shall prosper on these sacred grounds.” The priest dabbed my forehead and the base of my wrists with oil as I held my arms out wide. The spirit did not like it. Living room windows violently flew open.
“We have angered it. This is the beginning. Stand together and hold hands in a circle,” the priest demanded. “Bow your head,” he commanded as he chanted Bible verses and shut his eyes tightly. Peace leaked from me, replaced by immense fear as dark, dense energy that felt like weighted bricks on my back entered the space. I wanted to drop to the ground and the priest opened his eyes to break his chant looking at me. “Do not give up! We are winning.” My bay window, which was firmly secured, flew open as the hinges whined and the latch popped off.
A high wind ran through the house as doors began to slam open and shut. Shaking in fear I yelped at the noises. They began to get louder and louder with the church people’s chants. All of them kept their eyes closed and prayed, looking down at the floor. The sisters began to move, walking in the circle, and I followed suit.
“What is happening? What are we doing? Does this help?” I asked with anxiety riddling my system.
“Yes, it does. We are calling the spirit now in ancient Latin. It understands. There are many wretched souls here. Many. They are in the forest. They are under the floorboards. Your husband. Many, many women. Men too. Tortured, beaten, raped. We must free these souls.”
The unthinkab
le happened. The Calling snaked through the hallway clouding over me. It was suffocating me as the loud, piercing ringing began to annihilate my ears. My fingers gripped Sister Arn, but I couldn’t hold as I dropped to the ground in front with my hands covering my ears.
“Hold on Dee. Hold on.” The lightbulb shattered above my head.
“Argghh!” I called out, fear was taking over my body as I felt the energy of ‘The Calling’ flow through me.
Kill the priest! Kill the priest! He touches little altar boys. He’s not who you think. Kill the priest. He must die. You must kill. I command you! Dee, you have not listened to our call.
The priest looked down at me as he called out to the sisters over the wind.
“Get the belt, the rope. It’s in her. It’s coming through her now! We must block it. Drive the darkness from her!”
My body writhed as the light helped me resist the darkness trying to seep through my skin, pulling me to my feet and flinging me to the kitchen. Pulling me there. “Nooooo! Noooo!” I feared my ears would bleed from the pressure building inside of them. Oh, how they ached. So very much. My body was not mine. It was The Calling’s as I started to pray like I had originally. The sister placed rosary beads over my neck.
“Forgive my sins father, I revoke this energy in my house. Send it away. Please send it away.”
Exhausted, I prayed as the house took on a life of its own. After some time, it suddenly became peaceful. Complete stillness. Softness. I dropped onto the hardwood floor wanting to die. All of my body ached from top to toe. Sobbing with grief and unexpressed sadness at the plight of my life. I remained limp on the floor.
“The energy still exists, but it is gone for now. It exists but we can manage it. So much of it has a stronghold in the house. We are going to require a larger group to manage this. May I suggest you move from this location until we can adequately clear the energy?” The priest inquired. And I wanted to know. I wanted to know if what the calling said was true.
“Yes. We can move. We can. I can’t take this anymore.”
The Revelation (A Paranormal Crime Thriller Book 2) Page 3
