“The doctor will be here in a few, dear. Just sit here and I’ll go and have a look at Jason,” Peter said.
“No! No, don’t go up there. Maybe seeing you will set him off again. Let’s hear what the doctor has to say first,” Mary replied.
“Seriously? I should be scared of my own five-year-old son? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going up there to check on him,” Peter snapped.
“No, Peter please! I’ll go back up until the doctor arrives.”
Peter sat and scowled as Mary made her way back upstairs.
Back in the bedroom, Mary found Jason sleeping. He would turn over restless in his sleep and mutter. Mary leaned in closer to listen.
“No Emily. No! I can’t!” Jason had exclaimed as he turned. Then he chuckled quietly and said, “Okay, maybe I can do that.”
Mary sat beside him, horrified at what she was listening to and heartbroken to see her little boy in this state. She didn’t try to wake him. Hoping the doctor might understand better if he heard the boy too.
Mary was convinced now. Her son was possessed.
Doctor Stanley, a locum from the medical centre arrived some ten minutes later and Peter escorted him upstairs. Peter introduced him to Mary and the doctor explained how it was unusual for doctors to be called out for something like this and normally Jason should have been brought to the clinic, but as the day had been remarkably quiet, here he seemed to be.
Mary guided him over to the sleeping Jason and tried to describe the events and the things Jason had said.
“You had a bit of a falling out with your son then, Peter?” The doctor asked.
“No, not at all. I have no idea what’s come over the lad. I don’t think all this talk of ghosts and stuff has helped Mary’s diagnosis either,” Peter said.
“And what would your diagnosis be then, Mary?” The doctor asked, smiling at Mary.
“I think he’s ill is all. A fever maybe. I don’t know, Doctor,” Mary replied.
“Well, he certainly hasn’t got a fever. But I do know young lads his age do get a bit fractious when they’re in an unfamiliar environment. New house, got to meet new friends in a new school. New bedroom. It all gets stressful for them. But you have an inkling of something else I believe. Do say, I don’t mind. Maybe I missed something,” the doctor said, smiling at Mary trying to reassure her.
Mary looked down at the floor and shrugged. “It’s just all so weird here is all. I guess I’m just being a hysterical mother.”
“Well, he did slice a knife across your arm, Mary. I’d like to take a look at that too before I go. But no, not hysterical, just a worried parent. So please, feel free to tell me what’s on your mind,” the doctor replied.
“I think the house is haunted,” Mary said. “There, I said it,” she said scowling at Peter.
“Okay… haunted? Not really my department I’m afraid, but why do you think it’s haunted and what does that have to do with Jason’s outburst this morning?” The doctor persisted.
“It wasn’t him speaking and I could barely recognise his face. He looked so, so evil. I was scared. It just wasn’t Jason,” Mary replied, shuffling uncomfortably now.
“Well, Jason seems to be in good health, Mary. I’ve taken a blood sample to take with me so we’ll soon find out if he has anything that might cause his weird behaviour. But perhaps now we should go downstairs and let the lad sleep it off, right?” The doctor said.
Mary and Peter followed the doctor down the stairs into the kitchen.
“Sit yourself down please, Mary, and let me take a look at that arm,” the doctor said.
Mary sat and the doctor carefully unwound the dressing. It was indeed deep but the chemist had done a good job of cleaning it up and dressing it. The doctor nodded and redressed the wound.
“She did a good job on that. But come on down to the surgery next week and I’ll have another look to make sure it’s healing okay,” the doctor said, as he took a seat himself and pulled out a prescription pad. He looked up at Peter who was standing behind Mary.
“Mary has had a traumatic day, Peter. I’m going to give her something to calm her nerves a bit. Nothing heavy, just to help her relax for a couple of days. I guess you understand that when we talk about ‘possession’ it’s usually either the one that is possessed or the one claiming the other is possessed that is probably having a bad time with the old nerves. I don’t know if you go to church or anything like that but maybe talking to a priest or a vicar might help understand all that better. For myself, I’m a doctor, not a vicar. Though it seems we both work on Sundays,” the doctor smiled.
“Are you saying I’m insane?” Mary asked. “I know what I saw and I know what I heard. I did not imagine it at all.”
“You’re not insane at all and neither is Jason. That is certainly a road we won’t be going down. But stressed? Yes, you most certainly are, Mary. These pills are just for a couple of days to help you relax is all. They won’t have any effect on your normal day but they will help you sleep,” the doctor said.
“Well, there you go. It’s all just stress. Let’s hope Jason wakes up feeling a little better when he does,” Peter said. “Not defending Mary’s idea at all doc, but I have to say there is a lot of weird stuff happening here of late. I think I understand why she feels the way she does,” Peter said.
Peter went on to explain the pram that moved itself to the cellar and how Jason had bit the babysitter the night before.
“Do you believe in ghosts, Peter?” The doctor asked.
“No of course not. There has to be a logical explanation, of course, but I understand why Mary is so shook up,” Peter replied.
“Exactly,” the doctor said, “Let’s focus on finding this logical explanation and leaves the ghosts and ghouls to Hollywood. Right, I shall be off. I have another call in twenty minutes and then if I’m lucky a pub lunch.”
Peter escorted the doctor to the door and saw him out. He watched as he got in his old Land Rover and drove off. Peter turned to Mary as he closed the door.
“It’s going to be alright, Mary. It’s going to be alright.”
Chapter Eight
Mary prepared a hot bubble bath for herself. She had taken one of the pills the doctor had prescribed and, along with half a bottle of wine, it had relaxed her. She dropped her bathrobe and tested the water with her toe. It was perfect. Too hot for a summer's evening perhaps, but just right for a warm relaxing soak. She slid herself into the bath and sighed. This was good. This was what she had needed after all. She took care to keep her bandaged arm out of the water, but still smiled at the luxurious goodness.
She laid her head back against the tub and breathed in the scents of the hot water rising around her. Jason was sleeping soundly in his bed and Peter was downstairs in his study working on his project. She had kissed him as she went in to tell him she was taking a bath. He had been surly since the doctor had left and had kept out of her way for most of the day. He was upset. Upset at Jason and upset at her, she supposed, for making such crazy suggestions to the doctor; though he himself had mentioned the old Victorian pram, not her. Maybe he was just as confused as she was and angry that he didn’t have an answer.
Downstairs, Peter was thumping away at the keys on his laptop. This was a project that would pay the mortgage and keep them in fish and chips. It needed to be done, ghost or no ghost. He carried on aggressively pounding the keys and muttering. In between, he gulped on a large glass of wine he had sat next to the laptop. He had pondered just calling it a night and walking down to the pub. Sometimes, strange, friendly faces and a drink were the best way to clear a head and redirect the thoughts spinning around in it. Other times it would make those same thoughts worse. Peter had decided a trip to the pub might have just made matters worse and leaving Mary alone tonight wouldn’t be such a good idea; so he worked. Outside, he could see shadows dancing beyond the garden from the bright moonlight that bathed the dales. Inside, his laptop sent shadows dancing around the room. Modern and real. Peter
was happy his shadows were both and he could cope with them; ghosts and old stories, on the other hand, were beginning to ruin his idea of paradise.
He downed the last of the wine in his glass and closed the lid of his laptop. He made his way out of the study and onto the narrow staircase up to the bedroom.
The house was quiet. As he passed Jason’s room he paused. Nothing stirred as he held his head to the door. Then he heard a rustle just on the other side of the door as if someone was standing on the other side listening for him. He gently opened the door and looked in. Jason was asleep; his bedding tossed around his feet and halfway on the floor. Peter walked in quietly and lifted the covers back over the boy. The door creaked behind him and as he snapped his head around he saw a shadow quickly flash out of the room and onto the landing.
Peter straightened himself up from the bed and went to the door and peered out. There was nothing to see. He looked downstairs and along the landing to his own room and shook his head. Even he was starting to feel spooked, he thought. Even he was starting to have doubts about rationale and logic. He closed Jason’s bedroom door behind him and made his way into the bedroom. Mary was laid on the bed reading. She smiled as she saw him come in.
“You had enough work for the night, baby?” Mary asked.
“More than enough thanks. I’m guessing you enjoyed the bath. Listen, I’m sorry for getting so grouchy about all that spook stuff. It’s just not us, you know? Just not how we normally think is all. I got confused and angry. I’m sorry,” Peter replied.
“It’s been one hell of a day, darling. Come to bed. Hopefully tomorrow we’ll all be feeling a bit more cheerful,” Mary said.
Peter slipped off his robe and climbed into bed. Mary smelled delicious and looked stunning he thought, as he lay down beside her. He was about to say something further as Mary raised a finger to his lips.
“No more tonight, Peter. All I’m interested in just now is you. You and me, in here now. That is all that matters,” Mary whispered.
Peter fell back on the bed as Mary put down her book and climbed on top of him. The sheer satin gown Mary had been wearing slid easily from her body as Peter reached up to cup her firm breasts. Mary arched her neck and groaned at his touch. He pulled her forward and caressed her nipples with his tongue and lips as she gasped and groaned and raised her hips slightly above him. Mary could feel Peter hard and ready beneath her and allowed him to slide easily inside her. She looked down at his face with a smile as she saw his eyelids lower in pleasure as he entered her. With her hands pinning him down by the shoulders, Mary began to rhythmically ride Peter.
Peter groaned deeply as he felt her thrusting down on him over and over. His eyes glazed over as the room began to go darker and darker. Within the darkness, he began to hear chanting - almost Gregorian. As Mary rose and fell above him, clenching him deep within her, the chanting grew louder and stronger. Peter opened his eyes wide and could tell Mary was hearing it too and was rising and falling to the rhythm.
Sat above Peter and feeling him deep within her, Mary saw the room gradually lighten with a flaming yellow fire. The fire became more intense and the chanting grew stronger and more powerful inside her head. As she gazed around the bedroom, she could see they were surrounded by a circle of people. The people were dressed in long black robes and were the ones producing the chanting. As Mary stared around at them she could see them all slowly allowing the robes to fall and, in their nakedness, they too were beginning to share in each other as they encouraged Mary and Peter in their lovemaking.
Peter was overwhelmed. Behind him he could see the huge stone of the moor, rising up into the night, his head almost touching it rather than the headboard. Beneath him, he could feel the soft green grass and smell the surrounding heather. High above them, a huge full moon shone down upon the scene. The firelight grew stronger and stronger and he could see they were at the centre of a huge orgiastic gathering on the moor. Above him, Mary was writhing and groaning in ecstasy as members of the group took turns in touching and caressing her. Sliding themselves into her mouth, she took them all without complaint. Peter was trapped between shock and arousal, seeing his wife in such wild abandon. He thrust harder and harder up into her and exploded deep inside as she looked down on him and orgasmed with him.
Mary fell heavily onto Peter as they both finished and the room slowly returned to its normal country cottage state. No people, no chanting, no orgy and no standing stone. They were back in their bedroom.
“Was that just me or did something just happen there I should know about?” Peter asked breathlessly.
Before Mary could answer, a scream came from Jason’s bedroom. Mary jumped from the bed and snatching her silk gown around her she rushed from their bed. Peter followed close behind as they burst into Jason’s bedroom to find him sitting at the end of the bed staring blankly at the doorway.
“Whatever is it Jason baby? What’s wrong? It’s just a bad dream darling, we’re here now,” Mary said rushing towards him.
Jason’s eyes glowered and he growled deeply like a hungry wolf as he saw Mary approaching. Mary wrapped her arms around him and crushed him to her chest. Jason growled again.
Mary screamed and stepped back from the bed almost throwing Jason to the floor as she did so. As Peter stepped forward to grab them both, he saw blood streaming from Mary’s cheek. Jason had bitten into her face deeply and the teeth marks stood livid on her skin as the blood poured from them.
“What the fuck?!” Peter shouted, as he snatched up one of the pillows from Jason’s bed and pressed it deep against Mary’s face.
“Sit there and don’t move ‘til I get back!” Peter snapped at Jason.
Jason slowly raised his head from his chest and looked up at his father. He was smiling. His eyes black as coal and his teeth still stained with the blood of Mary’s face.
“I’ll be waiting for you, Peter. Hurry back,” Jason hissed.
Peter stepped back from the boy in horror and disgust as he felt the cold chill of evil surround him. Gripping Mary to him and pressing the pillow to her face he staggered out of the room and headed to the bathroom. His hands shaking, he removed the pillow and gently wiped at the wound on her face.
“Please, Peter. Please don’t hurt him, he’s our baby. Ours. Something is wrong but he’s our baby. Please don’t hurt him,” Mary said, as she took the facecloth from Peter and held it under the cold water.
“The kid’s gone insane, Mary. He needs help. But no way I’m going to take any more of this shit. Certainly not from a kid!” Peter snapped back.
“Peter please. We’ll get him help. We’ll call the doctor back. But please don’t do anything you’ll regret,” Mary begged.
Peter could feel the rage growing inside him. But looking at his injured wife, her arm still bandaged from the knife attack and now her face torn open by their son, he could only shake his head and sit slowly on the edge of the bathtub.
“I don’t know what to do Mary, I really don’t know what the hell to do. I feel so damn useless. Can’t really go in and beat up a little kid, can I? But I can’t let him carry on thinking you are his punching bag. Let me get you back to the bedroom, babe,” Peter said.
Peter guided Mary back to their room and settled her on the bed. He looked at the bite mark. It was sore but had stopped bleeding at least, the marks of the small boy’s teeth plainly visible in the wound.
“Rest a while, Mary. I’m going to have a word with Jason. Just a word, I promise.”
Mary lifted herself up on the bed, looking nervously at Peter. “Just a word Peter. Nothing else. I know you’re angry, but just a word is all.”
Peter left their bedroom and made his way along the landing to Jason’s room.
Jason was still sat on the edge of the bed looking sorrowful.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I really am. I didn’t mean to bite Mummy. I was having a bad dream she said,” Jason said apologetically.
“Dream or not, Jason. This is all getting more than
your mother and I can stand. That was bad. That was really bad and you must be punished. Get in bed now, I need to think this through. But believe me, you will be punished,” Peter replied.
“Yes, Daddy,” Jason said sorrowfully as he climbed into his bed.
Peter made his way to the door and could feel a cold chill from behind him. He turned to see Jason, settled in the bed but sat up and staring at him. The boy’s eyes glowed as he looked towards Peter and quietly hissed.
“You will be punished. Yes. You will be punished.”
Peter snapped his head back to the door and marched out of the room slamming the door behind him. His son had gone insane. There was no doubt in Peter’s mind. His son was insane.
Chapter Nine
Peter was pacing the kitchen when Mary made her way downstairs the next morning. The bite mark on her face had eased and she had already put a cream on it to hide the marks. It was there, but not as obvious as it had been last night. Peter grimaced though, as he looked at his wife.
“So? Wake up with a plan?” Peter asked.
“No dear, I haven’t. I guess for now we call the doctor and see what he can suggest,” Mary replied, as she poured herself a coffee and joined him at the kitchen table. “Do you have any suggestions?”
“Well I told him last night he would be punished, so punished he will be. At least make him feel he’s done something wrong I guess. I’m going to move the toys out of the nursery. Maybe he’ll have a rethink then. No. I really don’t know,” Peter replied.
“Well, if you think it’s going to make a difference, have at it. I’m going to make breakfast,” Mary said.
Mary made breakfast and went upstairs to bring Jason down. He was sullen and quiet as he came downstairs behind his mother. Not looking at Peter he slowly ate a bowl of cereal.
“How are you this morning, darling?” Mary asked Jason.
Thriller: Emily Page 6
