by Advocate
Bewildered, Kayla had just nodded amiably, correctly figuring that sometimes in a relationship she was expected to just shut up and go along with whatever Liv asked. Were men ever this confused? She suspected so. And now she understood. But if the price for being in love was broccoli or an oat bran muffin, well, she would deal with it somehow. Slathering enough peanut butter onto something generally covered up most of the taste.
"Kayla?"
"Yeah?"
Their eyes met in the mirror’s reflection.
"What we’re going to do tonight is really rotten, isn’t it?"
Kayla nodded very slowly. "Oh, yeah."
A pale eyebrow along with the corner of Liv’s mouth quirked. "Good."
* * *
A gusty wind blew outside the Keith House and fat raindrops pelted it, the sound amplified because the house sat empty and quiet. Kayla peered out at the front sidewalk from a small window near the entryway. Lightning pierced the sky in jagged streaks and thunder boomed sporadically overhead. Oh, yeah. She smiled.
A key slid into the lock and turned, but the door wouldn’t open. DING DONG. DING DONG. DINGDONGDINGDONGDINGDONGDINGDONG.
Kayla padded over to the front door and called out in an amused voice, "Who iiiiiiis it?"
BANG BANG BANG! The door shook in its frame. "God dammit, Kayla! I’m getting soaked. You know who it is!"
Kayla leaned against the back of the door and crossed her long legs at the ankle. "Did you lose your key or something?"
"LET ME IN!"
"Get a grip. It’s only water," Kayla mumbled. With exaggerated slowness she pushed off of the door and turned to throw open the deadbolt. She stumbled backwards as the door flew open, nearly hitting her. "Why, hello, Glen. I didn’t know it was you."
Glen smoothed back her wet hair and shook the lapels of her black London Fog raincoat as Kayla pushed the door closed. She didn’t like looking foolish and right now she knew that’s exactly how she looked. The storm outside was worsening and her taxi had already driven away. She was just glad to be in out of the pouring rain. "Of course you didn’t know it was me." She set her briefcase down near the wall. "You only called me and told me to get down here right this very second! I hope it’s because you’re ready with your report. I’m supposed to meet with Mr. Keith later tonight." She made a face as she scanned the foyer. "God, I hate Gothic. So depressing." She peered around Kayla. "Where is—?" Glen made a vague gesture with her hand. "You know."
"Shut the fuck up," Kayla snapped, all traces of her former good humor gone. "I’m not in the mood to deal with you being a bitch tonight."
"I could say the same thing about you." Glen ran her hand down the front of her suit, indicating how soaked she was. "Don’t tell me your linguist dumped you already? Whatever will you do without a cute All-American girl to hold your equipment for you?" Glen sighed dramatically. "It must be difficult finding someone who appreciates your… unique talents and your penchant for drafty old houses." She kept her voice light but knew the stinging words had hit their mark by the subtle shifting of Kayla’s jaw muscles and cooling of sky-blue eyes.
"That’s enough."
"Does she know about your trust fund, Kayla?" She smiled when suddenly Kayla couldn’t meet her gaze. "Ah, I can see that she doesn’t. Why ever not? That is something a girl likes to know. It can make up for a lot." Too bad I’m not willing to wait five years for you to get it. "It will soften all the times you won’t call because you’re too wrapped up in work to bother." She began ticking points off on her fingers. "Or when you’ll forget to eat or sleep and be a total grouch because of it. Or—"
"Enough!" Kayla’s temper snapped as Glen skillfully pushed all her buttons, making her feel raw and exposed. "She didn’t dump me," she ground out. "We had a little…" Her dark head shook as she searched for the right words. "A difference of opinion is all. If you must know, she went back to the Bed & Breakfast. Which is fine with me because I still had some work to do."
"Pity," Glen said tonelessly, holding out her hand.
A loud boom of thunder shook the house and Kayla felt a nervous ball of fear form in the pit of her stomach. She recognized its source immediately. It’ll be okay, Liv. She projected the words with all her might, completely tuning out Glen. Hang in there. It’s just a storm, nothing to be frightened of.
"Do you have my report or not?"
Kayla’s whole demeanor changed and she looked down at Glen seriously. "That’s what I wanted to talk to you about."
When Kayla paused and glance around, Glen couldn’t help but notice the unsettled look that flitted across her face. The fight with the girlfriend? She studied her carefully, using the many years she’d known Kayla as her frame of reference. No, it’s something else. What she saw was a good dose of nervousness and… fear? Whatever was going on with her had to be serious. It was more than Kayla being angry with her for pushing this case through. Maybe she’d gone too far with the comment about her trust fund.
"There’s something you should know and you’re not going to like it."
Now Glen was worried. She laid a hand on Kayla’s arm, truly concerned. "What’s wrong?"
Kayla bit her lip and fought hard not to jerk her arm away. She could feel the coolness of Glen’s hands through her thin sweater, and her touch, knowing about her betrayal as a friend, repulsed her. "I… Well, I think it’s better if you see for this for yourself."
An earsplitting clap of thunder boomed and Glen looked longingly towards the door. "No, thank you. I’m in a hurry, Kayla." I need to be out of here. A lovely bar maybe, with lots of laughing people and strong drinks. Not that she planned on talking to a soul. She craved the comforting sound of people chattering away and not the thunder and pouring rain. Glen lifted her chin a little, determined not to show her discomfort.
She doesn’t like storms any more than Liv does. How come I never noticed that before?
"Just say whatever it is you have to say, and give me my report so I can be on my way. Your fee will be deposited in your account by noon tomorrow. Consider this job over. I’ll contact you again soon for more work."
Kayla shook her head slowly. "You don’t understand, Glen. There is something wrong with this house. Very wrong."
Glen put her hands on her hips. "The only thing wrong with this house is that I’m still in it."
A crackling bolt of lightning shot across the sky, followed instantly by tremendous boom.
The house went black.
"And the lights don’t work," Glen continued, trying unsuccessfully to defuse the tension that now filled the air.
Kayla didn’t laugh.
It was so dark that Glen could only see Kayla in the occasional flash of lightning. She heard soft footsteps. Why is she way over there? Kayla was now standing across the room in the doorway of the foyer with a grim look marring her beautiful face.
The tall woman glanced at Glen, her eyes shining silver in a bright burst of light. "Don’t you feel it?" The room went black again and Kayla disappeared back into the inky darkness. She traveled out of the foyer and into another room.
Glen moved closer to Kayla’s voice, telling herself that that was her shadow she could see moving. "F-feel what?" the Japanese woman groaned in frustration.
"How cold it is," Kayla answered quietly. "I have goosebumps, don’t you?"
Glen shivered and unconsciously dropped her tone to match Kayla’s. "I’m soaked to the bone, of course I’m cold!"
Kayla didn’t answer and Glen felt another, stronger chill chase down her spine. This is preposterous, she told herself disgustedly. I’m scaring myself. I will not be frightened of an empty old house.
"It’s not your wet clothes. I’ve felt it and so has Liv," Kayla finally said. "It’s a… a presence. It feels like something brushing lightly over your skin, doesn’t it? Not like wind, but like fingers or a cool breath from lips barely touching you."
Unseen in the darkness, Glen’s eyes widened.
"I think it has something to
do with the blood that Mr. Keith saw pouring down the wall." Silently Kayla moved right alongside Glen and whispered in her ear. "What if it’s dangerous?"
She couldn’t see the other woman and the words seem to come from thin air. Glen snorted incredulously but felt her unease growing with every passing second. "You’ve finally lost your mind, Kayla." But her voice betrayed her doubt.
"You know I know what I’m talking about, Glen. You’ve always been a skeptic. I know that. But you know me, know how rarely I’ve been wrong about these things. You trust and believe me, don’t you?" The words left a bitter taste in Kayla’s mouth. She found small comfort in the fact that she really did believe there was a supernatural presence in this house.
Glen didn’t know what to say. She did know Kayla. Part of her was absolutely certain that Kayla was a perfectionist and was, admittedly, an expert in her field. But no matter what she said, the blood on the walls was nothing more than a trick. She knew that with even more certainty.
Then she felt it again. It was as tangible as her own heartbeat. Light as a feather, a touch traveled from her jaw to her throat to her arm. She slapped at her arm. "That’s it. I’m leaving! You can drop the report at my hotel when you come to your senses." She turned around and marched over to what she thought was the door, then adjusted her path when a flash of lighting outlined the dark wooden panel. She reached for the knob and pulled, but the door wouldn’t open. "Kayla, is this some sort of joke?" She pulled harder on the door, shaking it. Her hand shot up to the deadbolt and she turned it, checking to see that it as open. It was. "Shit!"
"Glen?"
An eerie voice called her name from the stairway. It was not Kayla. The low whisper repeated, drawing out the word. "Gleeennnnn."
Glen swallowed hard. "Kayla?" Her eyes darted wildly as she strained to see through the darkness. "Kayla, where are you?"
She was greeted with a stone-cold silence.
"That’s it. This isn’t funny. I’m calling the police and they can break down this door." Glen reached for her briefcase to retrieve her cell phone, but it was gone.
"Glen," the whisper had moved across the room. "Gleeennnn."
"Who are you?" Glen cried, dropping to her knees to search for her briefcase. The wooden floor was cold and hard against her skin and she knew she’d torn her pantyhose. A hand squeezed her shoulder and Glen screamed.
"Glen! What the hell is wrong with you?" This time it was Kayla.
"Kayla?" Glen could hardly hear her over the pounding of her heart.
Kayla helped her to her feet. "Of course it’s me. You took off and I couldn’t see you. I thought you’d left until I heard you call my name."
"I-I am leaving." I am. Glen rubbed her temples, pushing hard. "Why were you whispering to me? That wasn’t funny."
"Whispering?" Kayla’s brow creased. "Why would I be whispering to you? I thought you’d gone, remember?"
"I can’t get out." Glen’s emotions were starting to get the better of her and her panic was rising fast, calmed only by Kayla’s presence. "The door’s locked. Try it."
Kayla did. "Is this locked from the outside? How did—?"
"My briefcase," Glen interrupted anxiously. "What did you do with it?"
"I never touched it. I saw you set it down when you came in. It’s on the floor." But when Kayla began feeling around she couldn’t find it. "It was right here. I—" She stopped talking and until the silence between them grew thunderous. "I think we should call the police, Glen."
The new urgency in Kayla’s voice sent Glen’s pulse racing again. "Yes. Yes. Okay," she babbled. "Oh, no. My phone is in the briefcase!"
"Gleeennnn." The whisper had returned.
Glen’s eyes went round as twin moons. "Don’t you hear that?"
"You need to calm down," Kayla reached for Glen again, and the smaller woman nearly jumped out of her skin at the unexpected contact. Kayla had barely touched her when they were lovers and never since. "Relax."
"Don’t touch me!" Glen could taste salt on her lips from a cold sweat.
"Gleeennnnn."
"You can’t tell me you don’t you hear that. It’s clear as day." She moved closer to Kayla, wanting some sort of contact so long as she was the one initiating it. That was safe.
"Hear what?"
"My name!" Her breath was coming in short pants. "Listen for Christ’s sake!"
The whisper had changed locations again. "Gleeennnn."
"Oh, God. Oh, God, there it is again. See?" She whirled around and began tugging violently on the doorknob. "The voice is moving. I think it’s coming closer. Why can’t you hear it?" Tears welled in her eyes and she started to shake.
Kayla grabbed Glen by the shoulders and spun her back around so that they were facing each other again. "I don’t know what you’re talking about or what’s happening to you, but we need to call the police so we can get out of this house. My phone is in my backpack upstairs. I’ll go get it and be right back. You can wait—"
A loud boom of thunder interrupted Kayla, cutting through the sound of the pouring rain and howling wind like a knife through hot butter.
Glen shook her head, causing her black, wet hair to stick to her cheeks and neck. "You’re not leaving me alone, Kayla Redding. Not for one second!"
"But—"
"No buts. Let’s go now."
"All right."
Glen reached out to take Kayla’s hand but she was already several steps in front of her. "Dammit! Wait!" She could hear Kayla’s footsteps but she couldn’t seem to catch up to her and make physical contact. "Kayla? Kayla!"
"Yes?" Kayla said softly, feeling for the banister railing as she quietly ascended the stairs.
"I-I-I…" Glen didn’t really have anything to say. She’d only wanted to hear Kayla’s voice and reassure herself that she wasn’t alone. "What room are we going to?"
Glen reached the top of the stairs. Somehow the rain seemed louder there, and she squinted as she turned a corner to a long hallway and tried to catch sight of the other woman. "Kayla?"
Silence.
"Not again!" Glen brought shaking hands to her face. "Calm down." You’re just being silly and imagining things. There’s nothing haunted about this place. You know that, even if she doesn’t. Kayla is just being dramatic. But that thought stopped her dead in her tracks. Kayla dramatic? That would require creativity and imagination and Glen was certain those were two qualities that Kayla didn’t possess at all. Hesitantly, she began walking forward, running her fingertips along the wall to help guide her as she moved. Rooms lined both sides of the passage and she listened carefully at each open doorway, hoping to find which one Kayla had stepped inside. She flipped another light switch but nothing happened.
"Gleeennnn."
"Is that you, Kayla?" Glen whispered harshly. She knew deep down it wasn’t and her stomach twisted painfully.
"Gleeennnn," the whisper persisted.
"Shut up! Shut up! Leave me alone!" The small woman speeded up her pace.
A bedroom door behind her slammed shut and she jumped. She whirled around and tried to see what had happening, but it was too dark.
"Gleeennnn. Gleeennnn." The whisper was growing louder and angrier and another door slammed, then another, with the sounds coming closer and closer.
Glen let out a bloodcurdling scream and her hands flew to her ears to block out the loud sounds. It’s coming for me!
A pair of hands reached out of the darkness and snatched her out of the hallway into one of the rooms.
Glen screamed so loud her throat felt like it was fire and she began thrashing wildly.
"Glen! Stop!" Kayla wrestled with the distraught woman, working to calm her. "It’s me! It’s Kayla."
Glen’s frantic movements slowed and she grasped hold of Kayla’s sweater, clinging to her. "Kayla?" She began to cry.
"Yes," she said softly. "It’s me and I have something to show you. Proof of what I was saying."
"I don’t need proof. We need to get out of here!
Something is coming."
"Something is already here," Kayla said gravely. She pulled Glen over to the wall. "Look."
"It’s too dark. I—"
Kayla’s grabbed Glen’s hand and pressed it against the wall.
Glen’s heart stopped when she felt thick, sticky liquid flow hotly over her fingers. "No. It can’t be."
"Gleeennnn." The whisper was now in doorway of the room.
"It’s blood," Kayla told her right in her ear. "Blood." Just then a flash of lightning illuminated the Keith House’s master bedroom and the wall where Glen’s hand was pressed. It was awash with dark, crimson blood.
"No!" Glen screamed, wrenching her hand away from Kayla’s grasp. She ran to the corner of the room and slid down the wall to the floor, sobbing hysterically. She wrapped her arms around herself and the blood on them dripped into her coat sleeve and trickled down her forearm.
"Gleeennnn."
"Shut up! You can’t be real." She began rocking back and forth.
"It is real!" Kayla shouted.
"It’s not!"
"It is!"
"NO! Don’t you see, it can’t be! I made it all up." Glen’s sobbing intensified. "It’s a trick. I hired Mary to do it. It’s a trick. It’s not real!" Her face crumpled. "It’s not! It’s not!"
A bright light suddenly flared in the doorway.
Glen screamed and covered her eyes with one hand, temporarily blinded. A few seconds later, when she removed her hand, her red-rimmed eyes flicked past Kayla, who was looking down at her boots, to find a dripping wet, young man wearing a kilt and overcoat and a very self-satisfied smile. Next to him stood Mr. Keith with a mini tape recorder in one hand and his cane in the other. Finally, there was Liv, holding a large flashlight with the beam pointed at the ceiling, her white-socked feet drawing Glen’s attention.
