Gail felt her stomach clench, and goose bumps rose on her arms. “Should I bring a lantern?” The last thing she wanted was to be alone in this place. It just did not feel right. Maybe it was the draft, the fear of the roof falling in or maybe it was the small footprints in the dust when Ben had said no one came in the house.
“No, the darker, the better, we don’t want to cause too much disruption.”
You speak for yourself, Gail thought.
Jesse was walking towards the first of the doors, and she rushed to catch up. The small beam of his torch cast across its surface. Dirty, once cream paint was flaking and peeling off the wood. As the beam moved across the door, she saw deep scratches. Jesse reached down and turned the handle. It was one of the old, round type handles and though it was green with age, she thought it had originally been brass.
The door moved away from them with a creak, and for a minute she wanted to laugh. That had been so typical of a low budget horror film that it broke the fear and made her realize that this was just an old house. Suddenly, she was looking at it with different eyes. It could be a nice property, it could be renovated and brought back to use. They stepped through the door and Jesse had to duck a little. Typical of the age of the property the doors were not too big.
The wind whistled past them causing her heart to pound as she jumped back. Stop this, she admonished herself. There would be a logical answer. Putting her mind into architect mode, she looked around the room. Sure enough, there was a pane missing from one of the windows.
There was very little in the room. Just a few bits of furniture, which looked old and possibly valuable. Why had the place not been looted? It made little sense. Most houses of this age, if they were left empty, would have been stripped. Someone would have surely come and emptied this property, whether with the owner’s permission, or more likely, late one night.
“There’s nothing here,” Jesse said, and he pushed a camera into the wall before turning and walking out of the room.
“Good, can we leave?” Gail said the words before she even thought and Jesse turned to look at her.
The head torch was shining directly in her eyes, and it seared through her delicate retina’s and right into her damaged brain. Blinking rapidly she raised a hand and gasped.
Jesse moved the torch to one side. “Sorry, are you all right?”
Gail bit back the tears and fought against the pain. Could she have any more painkillers yet?
“Gail, are you all right?” Jesse asked again.
“It’s just a headache,” she said. “I will be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
Gail nodded and forced a smile on her face. So much for supporting him this weekend.
Jesse reached out and took her arm. “Good, when I said nothing here I meant in this room. There is definitely something in this house.”
“A ghost?” she asked wondering if she really wanted to know.
“That’s not certain yet. It could be power lines, old mine shafts, or even a hoax but I can feel a presence here, maybe I’m wrong, but this is the most I’ve felt since I was thirteen. I can’t thank you enough for coming with me, for supporting me.” Gently, he took her hands in one of his and squeezed. A buzzing sound had Gail jumping backward. Jesse laughed, and the meter kept picking up something. He waved the meter at her.
“What?” Gail asked.
“I don’t know,” Jesse said. “That’s what’s so exciting.”
Chapter 3
Jesse turned away from her. All he could see was the meter, and he waved it from side to side. Gail had heard it buzz, had seen the needle spike. As it did, she felt the pressure increase. It was as if the air was being sucked from the room. Watching Jesse, she knew she should be excited. This was what he had wanted for so long, but she could not feel anything but dread.
“This way,” he said and walked along the edges of the room.
Gail followed him feeling her sense of dread grow with each footstep. The boards of the floor creaked, the meter buzzed and she could hear a ringing in her ears. The latter was probably not relevant, but it only increased her anxiety. As they skirted the hallway, the dark seemed to press down all around. In her mind, it was a living thing that wanted to reach out and suffocate them. It wanted nothing more than to snuff out their lives and its inky dark finger seemed to grasp into the narrow focus of light.
Jesse led the way. He stopped.
BANG!
Gail jumped backward, her heart in her throat, her head pounding. What was wrong with her? She knew what had happened, he had simply tapped on the wall. Looking for hollow spots, for damage, for anything that could explain the EMF.
Jesse continued on around the room, they passed in front of the lamp, and as they got closer to it, Gail felt better. It was as if the light was a place of refuge and she wanted to stay within the sanctuary of its glow. Only Jesse was moving on so quickly. He opened another door. This one looked in better condition, and it opened smoothly and silently. Gail caught up and looked over his shoulder. The room was empty save for an old chair and some scattered sheets of faded newspaper. Jesse moved his head left to right, and the thin beam splayed across the room, but there was nothing to see. Walking in, his feet crunched on the paper, and Gail looked down. It was the local weekly and as she stared at the scattered and faded sheets her breath caught in her throat. Each sheet told a story of the house. Of a suicide or a murder and they were spread across the decades. Over fifteen different faces looked up at her, and their eyes seemed to be pleading.
“What!” she said, but Jesse was still walking. Slowly, he skirted around the room while Gail was rooted to the spot, but the light moved with him. It was surreal, just this tiny beam of hope in the blackness but she could not move. No matter how she tried, she could not risk standing on those faces. Holding her breath, she hunkered her shoulders down and tried to be as small and insignificant as she could be. Tried to pull in her arms in case there was something there, something reaching out for her but nothing came. Her lungs burned desperate for air, but she could not breathe.
Then Jesse had completed his circuit of the room, and he was back at her side. “Nothing in here,” he said, and the disappointment was clear in his voice. Once again he pushed a camera into the wall and left it there sending its signal back to the laptop.
“But... but the papers,” Gail said.
Jesse pointed his head down at the floor, and Gail let out a gasp. All she saw was old and faded newspapers, there were no photos, just lots of print too faded and damaged to read.
“I...” she could not finish.
“Did you see something?” he asked.
Gail did not know what to say. She had been told that her illness, her brain tumor would make her see things. How did she know if what she saw was real? “I... I don’t know,” she said.
Jesse stuck the now quiet meter in his pocket and took her hands. “I know this is scary for you,” he said. “But you must trust me. If you see things, then let me know. Anything could be important, it could make all the difference to my investigation.”
For a moment Gail thought about lying, but he was right, maybe it was her imagination, maybe it was a hallucination brought on by a temporal lobe tumor, or maybe it was what he was looking for. “I thought I saw faces on the newspaper sheets. Faces of people who had died in this house. Just for a moment, they seemed to be pleading with me.”
Jesse let go of her hands. “Really!?” he asked.
Was he hurt? Was he upset that she had felt something and he hadn’t? Then she understood that he would be. This was his life. As a child, he had seen spirits, had spoken to them along with his grandfather. Then when he hit puberty, his grandfather died, and his gift left him. All these years he had been looking to get it back, and now it was her who felt something. How could she be so insensitive?
“I think maybe it’s just my imagination and all the spooky tales from the pub,” she said weakly.
Jesse’s face cleared and he
gave her a smile. “Maybe, but who knows. Don’t worry about my feelings, if you see or feel something let me know. Okay?”
Gail nodded and followed him back into the hallway.
There was only one door left, one room left and then they would have to go up the stairs. For some reason, that thought turned her blood to ice and set her knees a shaking.
Jesse walked on and came to the last door. It was closest to the lamp he had hung, and it felt good to walk into the light. Maybe it was just her mind playing tricks, but it felt safer somehow. Yet, as he got to the door the meter buzzed and the air turned colder. Jesse turned to her, a smile on his lips as he flashed the headlamp across her face. Gail screwed up her eyes and bit down on her lip to control the pain, but she smiled back her encouragement.
Jesse tried the door, but it would not budge. “It must have gotten damp and swollen,” he said, and he leaned his shoulder against it and shoved hard. Still nothing. Jesse handed her the meter and stepped back. The meter seemed to vibrate in her hands as it buzzed and the needle hit the red at the top. What should she do? Before she could ask Jesse kicked the door and it opened a little too easily and he was pitched forward and out of her view.
As Jesse disappeared, the meter in her hand let out a shriek. The needle hit the red and seemed to bounce and shake at the top of its scale. Gail almost dropped it as her heart leaped into her mouth and her stomach plummeted. It was cold, so very cold, and her breath streamed out before her. Had something taken Jesse, it seemed so silly so unbelievable, and yet suddenly she felt chilled to the bone. At that moment she did not know what to do. Should she run into the room after him, or run to the pub and ask them for help? A lump formed in her throat, goosebumps rose on her arms, and for long seconds she could not even move. Despite the cold, the air felt heavy, oppressive. It seemed to press down on her forcing her to the ground.
The sound of laughter broke her spell, and she stepped into the room.
"Jesse, Jesse, where are you?" she called into the darkness.
A shadow loomed towards her, and she let out a shriek and raised her hand to fend it off.
"Easy there, easy," Jesse said. "It's only me."
As he said the words, everything came into view. It had simply been the shadow from the head torch creating a diaphanous monster.
"What happened?" she asked, putting a hand on her chest to try and calm her racing heart.
Jesse came to stand beside her and turned so that his light illuminated some of the room. It was a kitchen, old-fashioned, dirty, and littered with newspaper.
"I guess the door just gave way," Jesse said. "I tumbled in, practically did a forward roll before landing on my back in a most ungraceful manner."
Gail could not help but laugh at the picture he described. Maybe they could have some fun tonight. Maybe she was just being silly and letting her imagination run away with her. After all, when had she ever believed in ghosts?
"Did I hear the EMF meter spiking?" Jesse asked.
Gail remembered the squeal and the way the needle had hit the red on the meter. It did not make her feel quite as confident to think that the equipment had registered something at the same time as she had felt… what had she felt? Maybe it had been nothing. Just a strange feeling which was understandable considering Jesse had disappeared through a door. So it had been cold, that didn't mean anything.
"It squealed, just as you fell through the door," Gail said. "Unless that was you?" She could not help but let out a laugh.
Jesse gave her a mock hurt expression and laughed too.
"I told you we would have some fun," he said and took the gauge from her.
At the moment it looked dead and registered nothing at all. Jesse twiddled with the buttons, held it to his ear, and then twiddled again. A look of disappointment came over his face.
"I think we are getting close," he said. "Maybe there's a basement. If so, it will probably be from this room. The kitchen. I couldn't find any plans for the house. Though I did find many mentions of a search for bodies. The usual place for such a search is the basement or the garden. Yet, many times such searches have taken place and the spirits hide their remains until the right person comes along. Until someone persuades them, it is time to let go. Come on, I have a really good feeling about this."
Chapter 4
The kitchen was very basic. Jesse set up a bigger camera this time as Gail looked around the room. There was one window over the sink and a door to the outside. The glass in both were smeared and dirty, and it was impossible to see through them. As they walked into the room, a cobweb filament tickled straight across Gail's face, and her hands flew up to tear it away. One thing she had always hated was spiders. All those legs and the beady eyes just gave her the creeps. Then, of course, there was the fact that her father used to tell her not to sleep with her mouth open. For if she did, a spider would make its nest there. Even now, just the thought of it made her shudder.
Dilapidated old units covered one wall of the kitchen. Some of the doors were hanging off, and paint was peeling from the others. There was an old ceramic sink. It looked like the tap had been leaking and a red-brown stain ran down one side and all across the bottom. It glistened in the light from the head torch. Something about it turned her stomach, there was a slight coppery stench, and Gail imagined if she touched it that it would be slick and moist. Somehow, it reminded her of blood only that was stupid. It was just an old rust stain.
Jesse moved on around the kitchen, the meter held in front of him, the head torch casting shadows across the room that seemed to make her jump. He knocked on the walls, opened cupboard doors, and took his time looking at everything. There was a faint buzzing from the EMF meter, and she could hear Jesse as his breathing became more rapid. He thought they were onto something.
Gail wanted to ask if they could leave. Yet she knew it was not the right time. As they walked across the kitchen, they saw a small table with four chairs stacked around it. It was old and poor quality. In fact, it looked as if it would hardly hold any weight and was almost about to collapse in front of them. The EMF raised up another notch, and the noise got faster as well as higher in pitch. It sounded like a warning, like some angry bird alerting the flock to danger and yet Jesse did not seem to notice. In fact, his breathing increased even more, and he hurried on around the kitchen. As he waved the meter from side to side, the head torch followed. Gail tried to see as much as she could, but the shadows and jumping light were making her headache worse by the minute. For a second, she closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her temples. As she opened them, she noticed footprints in the dust on the floor. They were small and very well defined, and were made by the bare feet of a child or a very small adult. A gasp escaped her.
Who had been here?
"Jesse, do you see these?" she asked.
He let out a sigh, and she knew he wanted her to be quiet, but this was too important.
"The footsteps," she said. "They lead that way." Gail pointed in the darkness and felt a little silly until Jesse turned towards her. The light shone right in her eyes, and the pain was so intense that she almost dropped to her knees. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut she fought down a wave of nausea and felt herself sway.
A hand reached out to steady her.
"Gail, Gail, are you all right?" Jesse's voice was full of concern as his arm held her steady.
"It's just a headache," she said. "I'll be okay."
"Maybe I should take you to the pub. You could spend the night there."
A big part of Gail wanted to say yes. To jump at the chance, but there was another part of her that did not want to leave him alone, not in this house and yet she could not understand why. This was not the first time he had been in situations like this. Jesse was not frightened, if anything, he was excited. So, why didn't she leave, why didn't she let him take her to somewhere warm, comfortable, and safe? As she thought about it, she knew why. Gail did not believe he was safe and for some reason, she thought it would be worse if she
was not there.
"No, no, I'm okay. I want to stay here with you. This is more fun than I thought and I will be all right." Gail put on a smile as best she could and hoped the words sounded more genuine to Jesse than they had to her.
For a moment he stared at her, and she thought he would say more. That maybe he would insist on her leaving. Instead, he shook his head and smiled.
"As long as you are sure. If you get too bad just let me know. It's only a quick drive down to the pub, and I will be fine here all alone."
"Thanks, but I think I will be fine. The footsteps," she said and pointed to the floor.
Jesse lowered the lamp and pointed in the direction of her finger. Sure enough, the small, almost perfectly defined footsteps led across the dusty floor. She could see the excitement in Jesse's eyes before he turned to follow them. They led away from the table, towards the opposite wall. Gail followed him, and as she did, she felt a cold breeze across her back. The hair raised on her neck and she leaped forward as a crash sounded behind her. Jesse spun around and put himself in front of her. Gail was cringing, waiting for what, she did not know, but nothing happened, and she peeked out from behind his shoulder. One of the kitchen chairs had fallen over and lay in pieces on the floor.
"Did you do that?" Jesse asked.
"No, I wasn't anywhere near it."
"Are you sure?"
For just a moment Gail doubted herself, had she caught it? Only that didn't make sense; surely, she would have felt it if she had.
"Yes, I'm sure, I was just behind you."
Jesse reached down and picked up a piece of the wood from the chair it was rotten and crumbling.
The Haunting of Seafield House (The Spirit Guide Book 1) Page 3
