Hauntings

by Lewis Stanek

  “Randal, Randal!, What are you doing over there? We're all at the house, come on, get the lead out.” He turned and looking in the direction of the sound and there stood Ozzie at the ridge of a little hill. Getting up from the ground he grabbed his duffel bag by the canvas grips and climbed the little hill to meet Ozzie and Bridget at the ridge. Behind them stood a monstrosity of a house. The mansion darkened the sky with its presence as if it protested the existence of daylight, of everything warm and good. How did I get here? Randal wondered, He admitted to himself that coming here was a possibility, but only a possibility he had no intention of following this little group of fools on their errand. He was going to slip away and go in another direction on my own journey. Why am I here?

  “Come on Randal, the old man is about to open the place up. You don't want to miss it, do you? He says he arranged a surprise for us inside!”

  “Yes, do come on, Randal. Don't be a spoil sport.” Bridget pleaded. Her eyes twinkling with anticipation. Looking past Bridget and Ozzie Randal watched the old man standing slightly bent over at the great doors wooden to the mansion. He looked to be fumbling with the keys. Perhaps after all, this old house doesn't want to have its peace violated, perhaps it is fighting back against this intrusion.

  “Let's go Randal, you're holding up the show.” Ozzie said, “by the way do you have another piece of jerky?”

  “Nope last one.” Randal replied popping the last bite of beef jerky in his mouth. Ozzie and Bridget hurried to the door, Randal followed behind. Randal caught up with them just as old Heinrich managed to unlock the ancient doors.

  “There must the baron rest till past the hour of vesper-tide, And then to Holy-Rood must ride…” Heinrich muttered in a sort of sing song rhythm under his breath, softly, but just loud enough to be heard.

  “What was that?” Ozzie blurted out without wasting time on forethought.

  “Nothing, nothing at all.” came Heinrich's quick reply “This is the main entrance, It is really rather grand, don't you think?” He said holding the doors open to expose a grand staircase climbing up to a mezzanine providing access to halls running to the left and to the right and in the center an arched doorway opening to a ballroom or great hall. To the right from the mezzanine spurred a second staircase climbing up to another landing.

  “A modest little abode.” Ozzie remarked glancing about the grand foyer.

  “This certainly must have been an impressive entrance in its day,” Randal replied, but the dank musty smell was near overpowering. “but it smells like something died in here.”

  “I wouldn't be the least surprised.” Said Bridget, “All sort of animals could have made their home in here over the years.”

  “It has been neglected, that is true, but I don't know if I would say it has ever really been vacant.” Heinrich commented, “After the Baroness Theadora died the corporation has been seeing to it that the mansion has been maintained after a fashion while they decide what to do with it. Personally I think they should just leave it alone, they don't want visitors here.” Bridget gave a tilt of the head in Heinrich's direction and winked to Ozzie, as if to say “We've got a live one here”. Ozzie grinned childishly in reply, but thankfully didn't say a word.

  “The baron must have enjoyed entertaining to have such a ballroom.” Randal said to change the subject.

  “Oh, not the baron, he was not what one would call a people person. The Baroness Theadora though, she was one for celebrations and parties. I believe it was for her that he bought this house. The Ballroom was a bit of a consolation prize for the baroness for agreeing to leave the gaiety of the city and moving out here to the country. I'm sure he told her how she could host extravagant parties for her friends from the city. Who knows she may have held one or two before the SS came to commandeer their home.” Whenever Heinrich spoke of the baroness, a thin veil of wistfulness would come over his expression. Lonely old fart. Randal thought.

  “Heinrich, you said they stored paperwork here, do they have the electricity turned on?” Bridget asked, “If not, I want to know what we are going to do for light during the night.”

  “The electricity is on, so is the water. There are plenty of candles in the storeroom, in case the lights go out.” Heinrich explained. “ Let me give you a tour of the house before the sun sets.” Heinrich led the three of them up the stairs to the entrance of the ballroom. Randal paused to take a look. The room was immense, the ceiling was clearly two twenty feet tall. This is the type of room one finds in a museum of natural history it is clearly large enough to display a mastodon or perhaps a brontosaurus skeleton, but the room today was empty except for the marble statues standing guard between the windows and the plaster cupids adorning the walls.

  “Are the statues of anyone we should know?” Ozzie asked.

  “I couldn't say with any certainty.” Heinrich replied. We slowly walked into the great room, the statues drew Randal's attention, there appeared to be a medieval military theme, knights at attention, knights with swords drawn, a goddess with bow in hand ready to vanquish her enemies, and at the head of the room appeared what must have been the Lord of the manor with his subjects groveling at his feet seeking his pardon or his favor.

  “Homey touch don't you think, would make a perfect playroom for the children. Randal commented.

  “Beyond this door” Heinrich continued pointing to his right “is the a kitchen, I suppose the baroness from time to time would use the ballroom to host a banquet and having a kitchen nearby would be a convenience. There is a smaller dining room on the other side of this kitchen where they would normally have their meals, and of course when the Nazi's had the house they would eat where ever they felt like eating. I had this kitchen stocked with food and beverages for our stay. We will be dining in the small family dining room.”

  Leading them through the kitchen to the smaller dining room, Heinrich continued the tour. The dining room had no windows, but each wall held a door. They came through the door from the kitchen, opposite was a double door opening to a sitting room, to the left was an ornately carved door leading to the library, to the right a matching door opening to a lounge for more intimate entertaining and relaxation. Heinrich continued his tour as one lost in time, he described each and every room as it was before the Nazi's arrived as if he was unaware of the ruin and decay that had befallen the castle has since it was abandoned. He may just be a bit mad, Randal thought.

  We went to the left to into the library. If someone asked me to describe the library where would I begin? The musty scent of decaying books wafting across the room upon a sea of dust hanging still in the stale air. Or would I tell of the walls of books surrounding us, the darkness so deep one could feel it rather than see it, darkness that seemed to be everywhere, darkness that even overpowered the sunlight coming from the paned windows in protest to the gloom of the long abandoned room. The library is dark and intimidating. It is as if the darkness thickly flowing from the ornately carved mahogany shelves like puss from a gangrenous sore. The theme of the carvings along the shelves worked to draw one's eyes to the tin tile ceiling that long ago lost its luster and gleam, but the interlocking floral pattern could still be discerned and barely beneath that pattern seemed to hide grotesque faces suffering in unnameable torment, all staring down from above at us intruders below. Something evil lay only slightly hidden from view in this room. Randal felt the urge to leave, then and there, but something, some quality in the tone of Heinrich's voice restrained him.

  “The baron and baroness were quite the scholars specializing in the occult and esoteric arts, this library easily contains thousands of books focusing on ancient mysticism and the religious practices of little known sects past and present from around the world.” Heinrich continued. It appeared that studied his subject well over the years since the end of the war.

  “I think this may be the place where we should center our investigation. The baroness Theadora would host séances in this room from time to time, after her husband's untimel
y death, even though she closed the castle to outsiders she would come here almost every night to commune with the baron. She had a passageway constructed from the old guest-house to the castle so she could come and go unhindered by prying eyes.”

  Heinrich pointed to a table off to one side of the room. “If you look closely you can still see the finely hand etched letters and words on the tabletop and there is the planchette right where she left it the last time she was here.” Theadora would spend hours with her planchette communing with her husband and then with the other spirits as the mood would strike her” Heinrich changed topic to get back to explaining the necessities for their stay.

  “ The bedrooms are upstairs I took the liberty to have the four bedrooms closest to the head of the stairs cleaned, dusted and aired out as much as possible as can be done in a day. There may still be some lingering odors, I haven't had a chance to check. There should be fresh bedding placed on the beds for our visit as well. There are adjoining bathrooms between the bedrooms. So you see we will have all the comforts of home at our disposal. Perhaps most importantly I have had the kitchen cleaned and stocked for our little stay. The water and power is turned on, but if it should become unseasonably cold we will need to start a fire in one or two of the fireplaces.”

  Bridget appeared fascinated by the planchette, she walked over to the table and sat in the single chair and reached out her fingertips extended to the little heart shaped board.

  “Are you sure you want to do that, Bridget?” Ozzie called from across the room. She pulled her gaze away from the planchette and looked to Ozzie as if she was just rudely awakened.

  “Do what?” she asked.

  “Do what she asks.” Ozzie stated with a shrug of his shoulders.

  “There is plenty of time for that later my friends.” Heinrich said leading them out of the library back to the main staircase. “First, why don't we select our rooms for the night and make ourselves at home?” we followed Heinrich up the wide staircase to the second floor.

  “To our right are the four rooms I had cleaned. I selected these four because they face each other two on a side of the corridor. This way we are provided with privacy, but in case of emergency help will be close at hand.” Randal would have preferred they all stayed in one room, each taking his turn standing guard allowing the others to get a little sleep, but what could possibly be hiding in this old house other than a horde of rats roaming in the walls. This is silly, I'm letting my nerves get to me. Randal thought as the others looked into the available rooms.

  “I'll take this one”, Bridget exclaimed, “I've always wanted to sleep in a canopy bed. I'll feel like a princess tonight” Bridget disappeared behind a dark mahogany door elaborately carved with ornate designs and figures in suggestive poses into her dream room.

  “It really doesn't matter to me, which room I get”, Randal lied, “I'll take whichever room is left.” He said forcing a bravado he didn't feel, wishing he could spend the night outside under the moon and stars free from the suffocating walls of Reuversweerd. Ozzie and the old man selected adjoining rooms opposite the hall from Bridget's leaving Randal standing alone in the shadows of the corridor.

  “Well then, I guess this one is mine” He said to himself and walked into his room. He threw his duffel bag on the bed half expecting dust to fly up from the burgundy comforter, but not a speck lifted into the stale air. Randal ambled to the closest window drew back the drapes to let the days remaining light in to brighten the gloomy room. He gazed out across the grounds to the river, he could clearly see the old weeping willow where he rested and enjoyed his last bit of jerky. He had to admit to himself that at least this room provided a peaceful view. He opened the window and took a deep breath of fresh air.

  Everything in the room, everything in Reuversweerd for that matter reeked of age and decay. Randal felt like a child lost in a museum. He opened a second window to allow a cross current of air to cleanse away the musty smell of the place. Aired out the rooms my hairy ass. Randal thought. A familiar sense of unease crept over him, the anxiousness, the excitement that always preceded a fire fight, but there is no possibility of a such a thing happening here in Reuversweerd. Randal tried to shake the feeling, but this demon wouldn't let him go that easily.

  “Damn, damn, damn….” He muttered under his breath, low enough the other's wouldn't hear. He imagined he could feel the spirit of the place, the spirit of some ancient warfare, warfare far older than that of world war two, something primeval even after all these years vacant it filled the place, Reuversweerd pulsed with it, or did Randal bring it along in his own baggage? He wondered.

  “What arrangements did you make for meals Heinrich?” Ozzie's voice carried well in the high ceilinged corridors of Reuversweerd.

  “Wait and see, my impatient friend wait and see.” Randal heard Heinrich's reply, but not as clearly as he heard Ozzy. Randal had prepared as cheaply as he could with granola, a couple candy bars, and bag of beef jerky which he already consumed, he still carried his water bottle, but he neglected to refill it before leaving the hostel this morning. If Heinrich is having this affair catered, it is all to the good.

  The thought of a hot meal eased Randal's fears, just as it always did when he was coming back to camp from the field. A hot meal the perfect reward for surviving another day. Randal glanced around the room, the walls were papered in a deep blue with a overly large paisley designed paper similar to that adorning the walls of general Grant's home in Galena, Illinois. Randal remembered visiting the historic site as a boy on a field trip the wall paper there gave him nightmares for a week. What Theadora selected for this room would give anyone if not nightmares at least a severe a migraine headache.

  Mahogany crown molding carved with the faces of cherubs grinned knowingly down on him as he further explored his room. the drapes and matching bedding burgundy looked to have been dyed in blood.

  “Cheery place” Randal said to himself and walked to the door he assumed led to the bathroom he knocked just in case Bridget was there then opened the door. He found the room was equipped with a claw foot tub, a pedestal sink with a ornate mirror hung above on the wall, and a commode, all the luxuries wartime Europe had to offer. Randal tapped on the door to Bridget's room, no response.

  Through exploring Randal stepped out of his room into the corridor hoping to find a little company to distract him from his surroundings. He found Bridget standing in the hall staring at a portrait.

  “Bridget, “ Randal said tapping her on the shoulder. She jumped just a bit, startled at his touch. Randal realized she must have been lost in concentration gazing into the face of a portrait hung on the corridor wall across from her bedroom door.

  “He was a bit of a dandy, wasn't he?” indicating the man in the portrait with her thumb as she turned to face Randal.

  “I didn't notice.” Randal replied taking a good look at the portrait for the first time. Standing perfectly at attention, wearing what must have been considered high fashion in the mid to late thirties, was a young man, who while striking a stern pose, but the artist managed to capture the merest twinkle in the eye thereby, softening the feel of the painting, and somewhat minimizing the otherwise stoic nature of the subject.

  “Do you think that is the baron?” Randal asked.

  “The baron, or Theadora's lover.” Bridget joked.

  “The baroness did not take a lover! I can assure you of that.” Heinrich corrected sternly, offended that anyone would suggest such a thing of the baroness Theadora.

  Dinner Conversation

  “If you would follow me to the dining room I have arranged a what I had hoped would be a little surprise to help us celebrate the lives of the baron and baroness.” I asked the cook from Theadora's hostel to prepare a meal for us of all the baroness' favorite foods. Roasted pork loin with bread dumplings and sour kraut, apple strudel for desert and peppermint schnapps as an aperitif. Can you smell it yet, or is that only my imagination? Perhaps a good hearty meal and some good conversation
will prepare us for our little journey tonight.”

  “Journey? Where do you plan on taking us?” Ozzie asked.

  “It's just a figure of speech, my young friend. Our journey is a metaphysical one and will begin and end here of course. No need to worry.” Heinrich replied casually, Leading them effortlessly through the unlit corridor, as though he walked this corridor many times before. Heinrich knew his way around the castle as well as if it were his own home.

  “Food fit for a baron, now that's what I'm talking about.” Ozzie said eagerly following Heinrich's steps. Soon Heinrich led them to a pair of pocket doors, he slid them open revealing the dining room. The tantalizing aroma of roast pork, pickled beef, sour kraut, and fresh coffee filled the air. A buffet had been prepared for them set with buffet trays kept warm by tea candles burning beneath the trays of food. The aroma was inviting them to help themselves, but they waited nonetheless. A fire burning in the fireplace, Randal assumed was for atmosphere than warmth, but it could get pretty chilly at night this time of year.

  “Please help yourselves, there is plenty for everyone.” Heinrich said with a wave of his arm indicating the buffet. Ozzie led the group serving himself large helpings of everything available.

  “What no wine?” Ozzie asked in jest. Bridget quickly elbowed Ozzie in the ribs.

  “What did I say?”

  “There are a couple of bottles of good Riesling on the table.” Heinrich replied picking up a plate at the buffet and selecting a choice slice or two of roast.