The Clockwork House

by Wendy Saunders

  There was a knock on the door startling Luella from her thoughts. She looked up and saw her husband peek around the corner, pushing his thin spectacles back up his nose.

  ‘It’s time to settle the children for bed Ella,’ he told her softly, ‘but Edith and Hugo are both running fevers. I’ve isolated them for the sake of the other children but I’m going to need your help.’

  ‘I’ll be right there, love,’ she smiled warmly.

  He nodded and closed the door with a quiet click. Luella stood and smoothed down her skirt, before lifting the tray of barely touched food.

  ‘I’ll be back in a while to settle you in bed mother,’ she told her but was once again resolutely ignored.

  Luella sighed and headed out the door.

  Once on the other side Luella found her husband waiting for her.

  ‘How is she?’ he took the tray from her.

  Luella glanced back at the closed door.

  ‘The same,’ she sighed, ‘she won’t eat.’

  ‘MISS LUELLA!’ a small girl with fiery red pigtails ran up to her. ‘Agatha was sick all over the floor!’

  ‘Oh lord,’ Luella sighed, taking the girl’s hand. ‘Come on Effie I’m going to need your help.’

  Luella hurried away with the small child, Jonathan following close behind with the tray, neither of them realizing that they hadn’t locked the door.

  Eleanor’s eyes jerked toward the door; she hadn’t heard the click of the lock. She waited a few more moments, the candle on the window ledge flickering as rain pounded against the window. The wind howled, rattling the glass but she couldn’t hear anything else. The voices outside the door had gone quiet.

  She grunted, unable to speak as she flexed her hand against the arm of the chair. Slowly she pushed herself up until she was standing, the strength flowing back into her body.

  Her daughter thought she was weak. Her body may still be damaged, but she had found strength. Every time she was alone, she’d practiced, pushed herself, with sheer will and determination. She knew she’d be able to walk again and now finally she could.

  She’d bided her time, watched her daughter flaunt her fat stupid husband and her bastard child, filled her house with other bastard children, and yet she’d waited… waited for her moment.

  She shuffled forward as the lightning lit up the sky in the window behind her. Slowly reaching out she grasped the handle and turned it. With a small click the door creaked open. She blinked and shuffled forward into the hallway, her eyes glittering dangerously.

  She moved toward the stairs, her left foot dragging slightly behind her. Her long white nightdress fluttered around her legs as she slowly descended the second staircase down to the foyer. The tiles were cold against her bare feet as she moved with a lopsided, purposeful gait toward the kitchen and when she returned moments later, her fist was wrapped around a large knife.

  Her long, prematurely white hair spilled down her back in matted locks as she climbed the stairs, her feet sinking into the carpet.

  As she reached the top of the stairs at the second-floor balcony she stopped, peeling her lips back in a snarl. The small blonde-haired boy stood frozen in fear, staring at the wild-eyed woman with matted hair wearing nothing but her nightgown and clutching a carving knife.

  The boy turned to run but her hand shot out and grasped him by the collar. He cried out, struggled and kicked, but she was surprisingly strong.

  ‘MOTHER!’ Luella’s voice cried out in alarm as she rounded the corner. She dropped the bucket of water she’d been carrying, sloshing it everywhere, her sleeves still rolled to her elbows where she’d just scrubbed the floor clean.

  Eleanor glanced up at her daughter and growled, an almost inhumane sound.

  ‘Let him go, please,’ Luella begged as she slowly stepped closer. ‘He’s just a child.’

  Eleanor ignored her pleas as she stared down at the child, her daughter’s bastard. It didn’t matter what she told people, she knew, she’d known the truth the moment she’d seen the boy. She could see Ephraim in his face, just like her own son. She could see the darkness in them, the stain of evil. She’d tried to purge Edward of it. She’d tried to wash away the stench of his father from him, she’d held him down in the scalding water though her own hands had bubbled and burned.

  Now her daughter had borne a child and still Ephraim stared back at her mockingly through those eyes. It didn’t matter that his hair was a different color or that his eyes were paler, the same blood flowed through his veins, the same evil.

  She should have killed her daughter when she’d had the chance, like she had the others. The other bastard babes she’d birthed because of that monster, she’d torn them from between her thighs, wet and bloodied, and smothered them with the soiled sheets before he could stop her. He hadn’t stopped her; it had almost amused him to witness her descent into madness.

  He’d simply smiled and just planted another one in her, no matter what she did she couldn’t escape him. It was only when she finally gave birth to a son, he’d left her alone. At least, he’d stopped trying to impregnate her. Instead, the few more times he’d visited her bed he’d sodomized her instead, just another punishment. Another way to control her. The few times she’d tried to kill herself he’d simply tied her to the bed and left her there, starving, covered in her own feces, until she’d capitulated.

  She’d celebrated the day he died. She’d stolen away into the room where his body had been placed on show, with a knife. She’d gleefully cut his penis off.

  ‘Say thank you…’ she’d whispered as she threw it on the fire and watched it blacken and burn. Then she’d urinated on his corpse and laughed, while he burned in hell.

  Now she had to end it, she had to end his blood line. She grabbed the boy’s blonde curls as he squealed in pain and raised the knife.

  ‘NO!’ Luella launched herself forward, but it was too late. Eleanor sank the knife into his small body and tossed him aside like a rag doll.

  Luella screamed in rage and anguish, but Eleanor lunged forward slashing furiously, and the blade sliced through Luella’s bicep, blood blooming against her white shirt. The two women grappled desperately. Eleanor grabbed the golden locket at her daughter’s throat and yanked it hard. It fell over the balcony to bounce once and skitter across the tiled floor of the foyer.

  Eleanor shoved Luella hard, throwing her to the floor and knocking the air from her lungs. She looked up and saw her mother towering above her, her eyes filled with hate and madness as she raised the knife to strike.

  ‘NOOOOO!!!’ Jonathan shouted as he ran at the old woman, pushing her away from Luella. She stumbled back unable to stop her momentum as she went backwards over the balcony and plunged to the foyer floor.

  Jonathan leaned over the edge and stared at her body laying broken on the tiles, her eyes wide, her limbs splayed grotesquely, a lake of crimson creeping out from underneath her and spreading across the foyer.

  Luella crawled over to her son and rolled him over, pulling him into her arms and pressing her hand to his wound to stem the bleeding.

  ‘It’s alright love,’ she whispered to him, her eyes blinded by tears. ‘It’s going to be alright.’

  ‘Mama,’ he whispered quietly.

  She blinked as she stroked his hair, he’d never called her mother before. They’d never spoken of it.

  ‘Yes Peter,’ she told him quietly, ‘I’m your mama and I promise I’ll never leave you.’

  ‘Ella,’ Jonathan called to her urgently.

  ‘Is she dead?’ Luella asked coldly.

  He nodded.

  ‘Take her out back and bury her,’ Luella told him bluntly.

  ‘Ella we can’t,’ he protested, ‘we have to report her death.’

  ‘Do you want to hang for it?’

  Jonathan turned back to glance at the corpse and slowly shook his head.

  ‘Get rid of the body,’ she turned her attention back to the boy in her arms, ‘no one will ever have to know.’
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br />   ‘What about Peter?’ he asked in concern as he eyed the boy, whose skin was now chalky white as he bled profusely from his stomach.

  ‘I will get him to Doctor Grayson,’ she lifted him into her arms. ‘You stay here with the other children.’

  Jonathan stared down at Peter, worried that it was already too late to save the boy. Not giving his mind time to process what he was about to do he ran down the stairs and into the study. Tearing down one of the drapes he returned to the foyer and wrapped Eleanor’s body in it.

  Picking up her slight weight he opened the front door into the dark night and stepped out into the rain. He moved around the side of the house quickly and purposefully, dumping her in the wet grass while he retrieved a shovel from the shed.

  The sky churned and boiled above him as he buried the mad woman in a shallow grave.

  When he re-entered the house, drenched to the skin, covered in earth and blood, he expected Luella to be gone, but she wasn’t. She sat on the bottom step of the foyer with Peter cradled in her arms as she slowly rocked him back and forth. The children, all disturbed by the commotion had appeared and were sitting on the stairs, surrounding Luella, as they watched sadly.

  In that moment Jonathan knew Peter was gone.

  ‘Ella my love,’ he whispered as he knelt in front of her, ‘I’m so sorry.’

  She didn’t speak, tears streamed down her wet face as she rocked him in her arms, pressing her lips to his blonde curls.

  Suddenly the front door banged open loudly, the shriek and violence of the storm beyond suddenly building. The sky churned and boiled, and lighting streaked across the black clouds. The thunder crashed and roared so loudly the children jumped and a few cried out in alarm. The gas lights suddenly cut out, plunging them into near darkness.

  Unable to explain what had extinguished the lamps, Jonathan stood slowly. The hairs on his neck began to rise and his skin prickled. His gaze was drawn to the huge pool of blood on the tiled floor beneath the balcony.

  For a moment it almost seemed as if his eyes were playing tricks on him. The blood on the floor began to bubble, and he watched in horror as a pale spectral light began to appear, hovering above it.

  ‘ELLA!’ he shouted in alarm, ‘get the children out of the house!’

  He sprinted for the stairs, heading for one of the isolation rooms. He burst through the door and scooped up the two fevered children into his arms, feeling the heat of their skin burning through his wet, soiled shirtsleeves. He held their limp bodies against him as he looked out to see Effie, the little red-haired girl wiping Agatha’s brow with a damp cloth.

  ‘Effie!’ he called to her urgently, ‘bring Agatha. No matter what you see, no matter what you hear, you stay close to me, do you understand?’

  Effie stared at him with large frightened eyes, nodding quickly, having never witnessed such panic and intensity from the mild mannered, softly spoken man. Effie helped Agatha out of bed, and they headed out into the hallway and down the stairs.

  Luella quickly stood, still clutching onto Peter.

  ‘COME CHILDREN QUICKLY!’ she ordered them. She didn’t know what was happening, nor did she know what the strange light was, all she knew was they had to get the children out of the house. She rushed towards the door with the children clustered around her, but the doors slammed shut and wouldn’t budge.

  Jonathan hurried down the stairs cradling the two sick children, one in each arm, with Effie dragging the pale faced Agatha behind her.

  They couldn’t get out, the doors held fast.

  Luella turned and watched in horror as the light hovering above the pool of blood began to coalesce into a form. Strange tentacle-like threads of light undulated in the air and gradually a face appeared.

  Eleanor.

  She hovered above the ground stained with her blood, floating, her white nightgown rippling around her and her long white hair splayed out as if she were floating underwater. Her eyes were black and wild against her white face. Her lips peeled back in a scream of rage as her sharp claw-like fingers flexed.

  The children screamed, faced with such a terrifying sight.

  ‘COME!’ Luella turned and ran, the children following her and her husband last to make sure no one was left behind.

  They navigated their way through the maze of the house in the near darkness, from memory and instinct alone, fumbling and tripping until they finally reached the billiards room. There Luella flicked the catch to open the hidden door in the paneled wall. As it swung open Jonathan entered first to guide the children down the dark steps and through the passageways. Luella came through last as an ear-piercing shriek of utter madness and rage rang through the house.

  Luella slammed the door and hurried after the children. The ground heaved and shook beneath their feet as they stumbled along in the darkness.

  Suddenly there was a loud cracking, grinding sound and the ground lurched again, this time so violently they were all thrown to the ground. The ceiling gave way and smashed down to the floor. For a few horrifying moments it didn’t stop; it felt like the whole cliff face was going to break away and fall into the sea.

  When it finally subsided Luella turned to look but she couldn’t see anything. They’d been plunged into total darkness. She reached out but found nothing but rock. The passageway behind her was blocked.

  ‘Jonathan the passageway is blocked,’ she called out.

  ‘This end is too,’ came the muffled reply in the darkness.

  Luella slid down the wall helplessly, cradling Peter’s limp body in her arms. She could hear the children crying softly in the dark, but it was no use, there was no way out.

  ‘Now you’re trapped here forever…’ she heard her mother’s voice whisper loudly in the darkness, harsh and filled with venom. ‘I will never leave this house and now, neither will you…’

  25

  Ava stumbled back and doubled over, gasping in a desperate lungful of air. She couldn’t breathe through the excruciating wave of grief pressing down on her chest and the feeling of absolute hopelessness. Her emotions were too deeply tangled with that of Luella and for a moment she couldn’t break free.

  ‘Ava?’

  She felt Kelley’s hand on her back soothingly.

  ‘Ava, talk to me.’

  ‘She killed him,’ Ava whispered, her face wet with tears. ‘She killed Peter.’

  ‘Who, Luella?’ Kelley frowned.

  Ava pushed her hands against her knees and straightened, sucking in a calming breath as the intense emotions of the dead woman began to fade. She glanced around and realized Luella had disappeared again and that she was standing alone with Kelley and Derek, who was looking a little wild eyed at the events he’d just borne witness to.

  ‘No,’ Ava shook her head, ‘not Luella. It was her mother.’

  ‘Her mother?’

  ‘Eleanor,’ Ava explained quickly, ‘she killed Peter and tried to kill Luella. Her husband Jonathan saved her.’

  She turned to look at the end of the corridor and sure enough, there was the remains of an adult male, his arms wrapped around two young children.

  ‘He pushed Eleanor away from Luella as she tried to stab her and she went over the balcony, she died right there on the floor of the foyer. Her spirit came back violent and angry, she trapped Luella, Jonathan and the children down here and they suffocated. She’s the one who’s keeping their spirits trapped in the house.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Kelley raked his hand through his hair, ‘what the hell do we do? Now she’s awake she’s plenty pissed, and I don’t think she’s going to let us leave.’

  ‘We have to try and find a way to send her back. She’s not supposed to be here.’

  ‘Just how are we supposed to do that?’ Kelley frowned.

  Ava turned to Derek.

  ‘Because we have him,’ she replied confidently.

  ‘ME?’ his eyes widened.

  ‘You’re a ghost hunter, aren’t you? You must’ve heard all the lore, the rumors, the myths,
you’re basically a walking almanac of the weird and occult,’ she replied.

  ‘I’m not a ghost hunter,’ he protested.

  ‘But you said earlier,’ Kelley interrupted, ‘you said you were looking for a ghost.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he replied sarcastically, ‘to disprove it. I investigate claims of paranormal disturbances, not because I believe but because I don’t. I spend my time proving that these people who claim to have encounters with the paranormal are nothing more than con artists and frauds. I debunk more hauntings than any other reporter I know.’

  ‘Good luck debunking this,’ Kelley murmured.

  ‘That’s just semantics,’ Ava waved her hand dismissively. ‘It doesn’t matter if you believe it or not, what matters is the knowledge you’ve accumulated over the years. Just think back to anything anyone has ever told you about getting rid of a violent spirit.’

  ‘Well we don’t have an old priest and a young priest,’ he replied.

  ‘It’s not a demon possession,’ she replied dryly, ‘this is an angry ghost we’re dealing with.’

  ‘Okay,’ he blew out a breath shaking his head thoughtfully, ‘salt and burn the bones.’

  ‘This is also not a TV show,’ she scowled.

  ‘Hey, aren’t you supposed to get their bones to consecrated ground?’ Kelly interrupted.

  ‘That would be great,’ Ava nodded, ‘if we had consecrated ground and her bones weren’t fifty miles away in a lab.’

  ‘Wait!’ Derek shouted, ‘her bones aren’t here on site?’

  ‘They’re not even on the island,’ Ava replied.

  ‘Then what’s tying her to the house?’

  ‘You mean apart from her bad decisions and sucky attitude,’ Kelley muttered.

  ‘Hang on,’ Ava frowned, ‘he’s got a point. Let’s think this through logically. She died in the house, she went over the balcony of the second floor and died there. When I went to see Julia, she was recreating a pattern with these 2d shapes she had. At first, I couldn’t place where I’d seen it. She kept telling me that it was a doorway and that it was weak. That’s what that stain is, Eleanor’s blood. It’s the doorway she used to come back.’