The Haunting of Reindeer Manor

by Kevin Guest

  Fulfillment

  Just after midnight, Anderson sat behind his monitors. Since Fletcher left, there had been no further activity. He wondered from time to time if he was outside or if he had left, but it made no difference, there was still a job to be done.

  In all the excitement, no one had noticed that Jessie had returned to her room. She was emotionally exhausted and slept peacefully in the bed.

  Downstairs, Anderson’s eyes were glazed over; he shut them from time to time, to no avail. He ceased drinking sodas and did everything he could to sleep, but it was no use. He rationalized that his will to succeed was greater than his mind’s need for rest.

  The house was quiet and seemed empty. As he looked around at the antique décor, he wondered if it was real or fake. Though he had proved the breakfast incident was real, the thought of being tricked had never left his mind. A part of him was already gearing up for a lawsuit. If this week was nothing more than a production, it would be the last production this house would ever see.

  Though he missed the company of the young girls, it was best that they were gone. He would ensure that any report they filed with the council would be discredited and destroyed. How the council chose them out of the five hundred candidates was amazing.

  Anderson shook his head as he thought, They set me up. They wanted me to fail. Dean Schulz has been trying to oust me for years. That mongrel! Well, I’m the tenured one and you are just the sniveling weasel who got in good with the President. I’m the one who makes you look good, and this is how you repay me, by ruining my life’s work!

  As he ranted to himself, he glanced at the equipment and noticed the tiny needle on the voltmeter moved. Though that was not uncommon, it piqued his curiosity nonetheless. He smiled as it danced back and forth, almost rhythmically. Amazingly, it continued to move, hitting different levels as he watched. He thought, If it was an audio wave, I could dance to the beat.

  As he watched with fascination, he noticed the bedroom camera in Mary’s room. The blankets were moving! Quickly, he checked the computer and made sure he was still transmitting. Wonderful, he thought, everything was working!

  He watched the monitor with fascination as the bed stripped itself. Once that was done, he noticed the pillow cases were coming off. He glanced at the temperature sensors. The room had dropped thirty degrees in a matter of minutes.

  “Lovely, absolutely lovely,” he said.

  Something in the room seemed to be searching for something. Slowly and methodically, everything in the room was disturbed. Each of the suitcases was opened and the contents tossed about the room in a violent fury. Faster and faster, the clothes were thrown about the room. Whatever it was, it seemed to be in a hurry. Anderson sat there, mesmerized by the video. This was success! This was the golden calf he had searched for. Every instrument was working and transmitting. He could hear the little beeps and clicks as the instruments worked in overdrive.

  As the last of the clothes floated to the ground, Anderson noticed the room temperature rising. No, he thought, don’t quit now, I need more! He picked up a microphone and began the verbal documentation. “It’s 12:32 a.m., Thursday, March 5, 2009, day four. I have watched an invisible entity methodically remove the bedding from a bed and search my suitcases. It has shown particular malice toward my own possessions, tossing them all over the room. However, I do not believe this to be a personal attack. Instead, seems to be more an exploration of foreign objects than anything else. Though I cannot see it, its methods show intelligence. Right now, in the second upstairs room, the temperature is forty-two degrees Fahrenheit, thirty degrees cooler than the rest of the house.”

  He paused a moment as he scanned the girls’ room and found that it was occupied. He resumed his recording. “Strangely, Jessie has returned to her bed but seems unaffected by the environment. Electrical energy in the room has increased, starting at less than one millivolt and climbing to near one hundred millivolts. All data is being recorded on university laptop number 11402-1. In addition, all data is being transmitted via a wireless router to the University Computer Science Lab; file-Anderson; personal data; special project.”

  As he watched, the temperature in the room began to climb. For a moment, the house returned to normal. He stopped the recording and remained perfectly still, allowing all of his senses to take in the surroundings.

  As he glanced down at his equipment, the voltmeter continued dancing all over the place. The temperature began falling in the kitchen and in the chapel. As Anderson watched the monitors, he saw a flickering light on the altar. He remotely operated the camera, turning it and focusing in on the light. It was the candles on the altar; they were lit. As he watched, orbs of light emerged from the candles and floated about the room.

  Quickly he grabbed his microphone. “It’s 12:45 am, Thursday, March 5, 2009, day 4. After witnessing a paranormal search of my bedroom, a visible entity has emerged into the chapel. Without assistance, the candles on the altar were lit and now orbs of light are emerging from those candles. The orbs are perfect balls of white light, glowing and radiating outward. There does not seem to be any source of light in the room beyond the candles and the orbs. It is my estimation that this house is more than just a haunting, but a spiritual gateway, and that gateway lies within the chapel, perhaps within the candles themselves. It is also possible that this house is a well of souls. As I am watching on the monitor, the orbs are floating about the room in a disorganized pattern, almost like microbes in a fish bowl. They don’t seem to be reacting to the camera or anything else in the room, including each other.”

  Anderson was completely amazed. He watched in awe as the orbs left the chapel and entered the kitchen. He continued his recording. “Now the temperature of the chapel has fallen forty degrees. The orbs are moving into the kitchen, where the temperature is falling. Volts are off the scale. Visual recording is unimpeded, both wired and wireless cameras are performing flawlessly. Data is being uploaded to the university at maximum speed.”

  His eyes were wide. He completely forgot about his project, his rejection, his team, and everything else. He was like a kid entering a toy store for the very first time. He wondered how long this would last.

  His eyes were glued to the monitors, and he failed to notice the orbs passing through the walls and into the living room. Only when the light reflected off the glass did he look up. Less than three feet from his face was an orb. He marveled at its beauty. The outward light was a brilliant white, but inside he could detect faint color shifts. He stared closely, but he could not detect a source. The radiating light from the inner core to the outer horizon was perfect.

  He mumbled, “From what world shall you come into mine, with such splendor and beauty that all I am is for you?”

  He looked around as more orbs entered the room. He stood as they flew around randomly. Some circled around him, even passing right through him. “It’s wonderful!” he screamed. “Simply wonderful!”

  The instrument cluster was off the scale. Suddenly the temperature sensors failed and sparks flew from the voltmeter as it shorted out, but the computer and the monitors continued working perfectly. Data was transmitting even as Anderson forgot all about it. He walked from behind the monitors and danced around, as if music was playing.

  As he was dancing, he noticed shadows cast by the orbs. The shadows were not of objects in the room, but of people. They moved and walked as the orbs moved. He stopped and looked at them, then looked at the orbs. Souls, he thought. That’s what the orbs are: souls! That explains the intelligence; that’s all they are, the energy intelligence of the person who died! His project came rushing back into his mind. He walked over to his equipment and was elated. Though the temperature sensors and voltmeter had stopped working, everything else was functioning normally.

  He sat behind the monitors as the orbs continued their random paths. He suddenly felt tired, not just exhaustion, but the release of the insomnia. His body and mind were at peace as his project was com
plete. Now all that was left was the easy part, documentation.

  Within a matter of moments, the orbs vanished, along with the shadows. The house returned to normal. Without thinking, Anderson stood and walked up the stairs. He crossed the balcony and entered his room. Slowly, with a drunken smile, he took the sheets and blankets from the floor and made the bed.

  Though he had vowed to stay awake until the project was complete, with such success, his will and his mind were in sync. Finally, after three sleepless nights, he could rest. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out. He slept all night, as peacefully as a baby.

  The next morning, Anderson yawned and smiled with satisfaction. He woke with such energy that he felt as if he was twenty years old. As he began to dress himself, the plight of his team returned to him. Under his breath he cursed them, vowing they would never see a dime of his money. He was enraged that Amy, Mary, and Fletcher had abandoned him. He did not, however, miss Mary. He was glad she was gone. Just as well, he thought. If she shows up Monday, she’s fired; if not, she quit. Either way, it’s for the best. Secretaries are easy to replace, just find the dumbest head with the biggest boobs on the youngest body and pay her just enough so she’ll keep her mouth shut.

  Anderson continued his thought process out loud, “Oh sure, I will interview the right candidates, with the appropriate ethnicity and background, then hire based on my own judgment.” Yes, that was as good a word as any; after all, only white men are the majority. Everyone else is the minority, including hot young white women.

  Unbeknownst to Anderson as he praised himself, Fletcher had not left, and in fact he was awake. He stood from the dirt floor and dusted himself off. He had worked so hard to fool himself and everyone else. He had lied for so long about his identity that even he was unsure how many memories were real.

  As he stood and looked at the morning sun peering in through holes, the theater setting was back. He braced himself on one of the seats and thought, I cannot deny what I am. He smiled sadistically as he left the morgue and walked toward the manor. Mary quietly followed him, careful to stay out of sight as well as hide what was in her hands.

  Anderson marveled at his brilliance. After all, he was the chair of the department. His actions didn’t matter, only his public message. Actions are purely gestures. He knew his time had come. He was about to be one of the richest men on the planet, with a discovery that would rival electricity.

  He walked into in the bathroom, rationalizing that his behavior was just. Though he felt bad for slapping Jessie, she deserved it. Yes, his demeanor was unchanged—it was everyone else who had changed. He just reacted to them poorly, but he was not unjustified. He stood in the bathroom, picturing himself dressed in a black tuxedo, receiving an award for his ground-breaking discovery.

  Once his grooming was complete, he walked to the end of the bed and sat down. He convinced himself that today, on his own, as it always should have been, he would start processing the data. Once this venture was over, his name would be placed next to the greats of psychology. He could see it now, listed in a textbook:

  Dr. Jonathan Bartholomew Anderson- Provided undeniable proof of the existence of ghosts, demons, and the afterlife. His work, over a forty year period, is hailed as one of the greatest discoveries of man.

  Downstairs, as Fletcher and Mary drew closer to the manor, all of the monitors were displaying snow. The lights in the house dimmed over and over again. The computers were smoking. The house creaked, but remained still, as if it was watching.

  Anderson decided to pack. There was no reason to stay here; this part of the project was done. The faster he returned to the university, the better. He had to get his findings documented and scrutinized. There was no time to waste. He picked up his cell phone and was delighted he had a signal. He immediately called his house.

  “The Andersons’ residence.”

  Anderson smiled. “Bernard, is my wife around?”

  “No sir, she left early this morning on another social call.”

  “Fine, I need you to come pick me up. On my desk you will find the directions to Reindeer Manor. Please bring the Yukon.”

  “Very good sir, I shall leave at once.”

  Anderson exited his room and walked right past the girls’ room. He had no intention of taking Jessie with him. He braced himself on the rail as he descended with his suitcase.

  Fletcher walked to the front door and pulled, but it was locked. He pulled and pulled, but the door would not give. He stepped back and smiled. “You want this as badly as I do, so how about a little help?” Fletcher watched as the lock was retracted and the door opened for him.

  Anderson walked over to the monitors, but became extremely concerned when he saw the computers smoking. He quickly checked all the data, but everything seemed to be fine. “Keep uploading--just a little longer, then you can go out.”

  Fletcher smiled as he entered the manor. As he rounded the corner into the living room, the voice in his head said, Don’t kill him. Fletcher noticed Anderson’s cane leaning on the wall. He quietly picked it up, then with great force, struck Anderson over the head with it, breaking the cane in two. Anderson collapsed into the monitors, then fell onto the floor.

  Fletcher looked up at the girls’ door as he ascended the stairs. He walked slowly and methodically, savoring every moment. Once he reached the door, he turned the knob slowly.

  Inside, Jessie woke to the sound of the door opening. As she sat up, she noticed the cold. She shivered and felt terrified. She watched as the handle slowly turned until it would turn no more. The door creaked open and to her horror, there stood Fletcher. She looked at him. “What do you want?”

  He smiled. “Daddy’s home.”

  Mary quietly slipped through the front door and walked carefully into the living room. She walked over to the computers and sat down, carefully placing her items on the floor. As Anderson’s secretary, she knew all of his passwords. She followed the history on the browser and logged in under his name. She pulled up the files on the project and without remorse, hit delete. She then told the computer to reformat all drives.

  Jessie dashed off the bed and into the passageway. Fletcher, oblivious to Mary’s presence below, turned and walked to the next door. Jessie burst from the door and he grabbed her. She screamed and fought, but his grip was too strong. He wrestled her into the room at the end. She kicked and screamed as he slapped her over and over again, but he did not stop. He grabbed her shirt and ripped it off her body. Tears were pouring down her face as she continued to beg him to stop.

  Mary smiled and picked up her items. As she stepped over Anderson’s body, she gritted her teeth at him. “Soon.” She kept her hands behind her back, continuing to conceal something. She listened to the struggle from the second floor as she walked up the staircase.

  Jessie continued to fight and beg, “Dr. Fletcher, please stop!”

  He laughed, “My name is Larry, you slut!” He ripped her bra off her body. “I remember those!” He shoved her into the corner and unzipped his pants. “You’re going to make Daddy feel real good.”

  He walked closer. “Come give Daddy a kiss, or I’ll tear your throat out!”

  Jessie closed her bloodshot eyes, and just as she pleaded to her real daddy, she begged, “Please don’t, I love you.”

  Mary entered the room and walked straight for him.

  Fletcher looked down at Jessie. “Bitch, put your mouth on my—”

  Mary brought her hands from behind her back and revealed two axes. She tossed one down, then swung the other, striking Fletcher in his right forearm and slicing it from his body. He fell to the floor, writhing in pain. He rolled about the room and screamed in agony. Jessie’s anger boiled over as she stood and grabbed the other axe. Without a second thought, she swung the axe and buried it into his right leg, just above the kneecap.

  The house erupted into violence. Every camera flew from its tripod and into the living room, smashing against the wall. The monitors explo
ded, one by one, sending shards of glass in all directions. With great flashes of light, all of the electronics were destroyed.

  Wind blew through the house, knocking down the paintings. Papers from the study flew in every direction. Books launched themselves from the shelves and the old grandfather clock’s hand spun wildly. All the doors in the house opened and slammed shut repeatedly. The glass in the grandfather clock exploded. The pillows, blankets, bedspreads, clothes, and mattresses flew around the room as the bed frames were ripped apart. In the chapel, the pews fell forward as the altar collapsed in on itself, the paint of the pentagram ran down the wall like blood, and the novel spat its pages out.

  Lights flickered throughout the property. The organ began playing and a child’s voice echoed over the loud speakers in the midway, the voice of Jessie. “Where’s my daddy?”

  Flames erupted from the statues, the morgue, and the old gas station. The nooses at the gallows danced wildly.

  Inside the morgue, the children’s beds tore themselves apart. The rocking chair went back and forth wildly. The projector crashed down in the theater.

  Every electrical outlet in the midway sparked. In the small barn, every breaker flipped back and forth wildly until the electrical system was overloaded. Finally, in one grand flash, every light bulb, in every building, including every flashlight, exploded.

  The winds died and the property was calm, except in one room.

  Mary swung and hit the mark after Jessie, severing the right leg from his body. Fletcher screamed, his voice carrying deep into the pasture, but not far enough to be heard.

  Jessie swung and severed his left hand. Mary swung and got her blade stuck in his left shoulder. She stepped on his head for leverage and pulled it out as Jessie swung and planted the axe in his stomach. He screamed and writhed in agony as Mary swung and buried the axe in his side. Jessie swung and chopped into his left lung. Mary swung and nailed him in the crotch. Jessie laughed; then buried her axe in his crotch. Mary swung and struck him in the side.

  Jessie winked at Mary, then looked at Fletcher, his dismembered body pooling in blood. Barely alive, he heard her say, “I’m sorry!”

  Jessie swung her axe and severed his head from his body. Then quickly, Mary swung her axe and chopped off Jessie’s head. It rolled a good ten feet, until it stopped in the corner of the room. Her headless body collapsed backwards, twitching as blood poured from her neck.

  A great sigh came from the house. The entities were almost at rest.

  Mary stood back and gazed at the dead bodies. Every ounce of individualism, sanity, rationalization, and morality were gone. The entity had won, and she knew not what she had done.

  She dropped the axe, her face showing no expression. She walked from the room, and though the house was plunged into absolute darkness, it did not affect her. She walked into her bedroom and changed clothes.

  A moment later, there was a knock at the front door. Suddenly, the lights came back on, as Mary walked out of the room. She stood at the railing and looked down. Anderson was no longer lying on the floor. As she descended the stairs, she heard him talking outside. She walked to the front door and found Anderson outside, talking with his butler. He turned and looked at her. “My cane is broken. If you will help Bernard, I will take you home.”

  She looked at him and nodded.

  Once the vehicle was loaded with the broken equipment, Anderson looked at Mary. “Have you seen the others?”

  She looked at him with no expression. “Their souls have departed this land.”

  He sighed and watched her get into the passenger side of the vehicle. “At least I got my data.”

  As the vehicle came to a stop just outside the property, Bernard, on Anderson’s command, got out of the vehicle and secured the barricades. Once he was back in the vehicle he looked at Anderson. “What about that golf cart sitting over to the side?”

  “Leave it.”

  As Bernard started the vehicle, Anderson whispered, “Reindeer Manor is closed once again.”

  Mary looked at the back of his head and whispered, “No, it’s not.”

 

  Day 5