by Lewis Stanek
“Heinrich are you okay in there?” Bridget called out, worried about the old man. Unintelligible muffled sound was the only reply coming from the room. Randal tried the door again, and then again leaning into it with all of his weight, it felt as if the door itself was pushing back against his weight trying to knock him down with just as much strength as he used trying to force the door open.
“Heinrich can you unlock the door?” Nothing. Randal took a step back from the door and forcefully kicked it aiming for the keyhole, once, twice, then a third time and then the door opened freely. They found Heinrich laying prone on the floor among shards of glass broken from the mirror above the mantel. Bridget hurried to his side and knelt beside him.
“Heinrich, all you all right? Heinrich, can you hear me?” She asked while trying to check his pulse from the side of his neck, gently feeling for his carotid artery. “He's not dead.” Bridget rolled him onto his back exposing his face. At first his eyes, unfocused stared blankly at the ceiling then his eyes closed. He was bleeding from several superficial cuts and scratches on his face from the broken glass on the floor.
“we need a first aid kit.” Bridget said.
“I've got some bandages in my duffel bag, I'll be right back.” Randal said leaving to go across the hall to his room.
“Ozzie can you get me some water so I can clean his cuts?”
“I'm on it.” Was his reply and he was off. As soon as the men left, Heinrich opened his eyes exposing only the whites of his eyes. Staring blindly into Bridget's face Heinrich commanded.
“Get out of here!” The bedroom door flew open banging against the wall of the hallway with a heavy thud. The sound of footfalls echoed through the corridor, Bridget turned expecting to see Ozzie or Randal walk through the open door and Heinrich's aged hands reached for her throat.
“Look out!” Randal yelled from the door, warning her, but too late. The old man's hands no more than touched her throat, yet it felt as if they clenched tight choking her. Bridget couldn't draw a breath. Unable to scream, unable to gasp for breath, Bridget tried desperately to break Heinrich's hold on her throat, but to no avail. Randal, bounded across the room and pulled the old man off of her breaking his hold, but not without leaving scratches in her pale skin from his fingernails. Randal easily flung Heinrich aside, he landed with a thud hitting his head against the wall. Bridget was free from his grasp yet she continued to gasp for air, clutching at her throat, trying desperately to break the hold of the unseen hands choking her.
Ozzie returned with clean water and a washcloth intended to clean Heinrich's wounds, to see Heinrich crumpled under the table and Bridget clutching at her throat, her eyes bulging in panic
“Christ! What is going on in here?” Randal ignored Ozzie and focused his attention on Bridget.
“She is turning blue Randal, do something!” Ozzie yelled. Bridget hands loosened from whatever invisible grip she was trying to break and she fell back to the floor. Randal positioned her on her back and tilted her head back, he listened to hear if she was breathing, no. He opened her mouth to see if there was any obstruction visible that could have caused her to choke, nothing. He bent over made a seal around her mouth with his and exhaled his breath into her lungs once and then again. Her felt for her pulse beside her throat at her carotid artery, she has a pulse, Randal gave her another breath, eased back from her mouth and saw her eyes open.
“Bring that here.” Randal commanded, no longer concerned about Heinrich's cuts he took the water and washcloth from Ozzie's hands. “Keep an eye on the old man.”
“What did you do to him?” Ozzie asked confused.
“He attacked Bridget.”
“What?”
“You heard me, he attacked Bridget. He was choking her.” Randal replied wetting the wash cloth and cleaning the scratches on the sides of Bridget's throat.
“These aren't deep scratches, but better to clean them, who knows where Heinrich's hands have been.” Bridget began to sit up.
“You better lay back and rest for awhile.”
“I'm fine, guys, just startled. I'm okay now.”
“What was going on? Why did he attack you?”
“I don't think it was Heinrich who attacked me.”
“Besides you, he was the only one here.”
“It was Heinrich's body, Heinrich's hands choking me, but I saw his face, his eyes, That wasn't Heinrich who attacked me. It was something else.”
“Who then, the Baron?”
“I don't know, maybe.” Bridget replied.
“Where did you put that gin, I need a drink.”
“I think we've had enough spirits for one night, don't you?” Bridget said looking at Randal. “On second thought give me the bottle I could use a night cap. Ozzie handed Bridget the bottle then pointed at Heinrich.
“What are we going to do with him?”
“Leave him. Maybe he'll be okay in the morning, but we had better lock our doors tonight, just in case.”
“I don't think we should sleep alone tonight.”
“Now you're talking.” Ozzie remarked.
“I don't think we should be alone tonight, not with Heinrich in that condition. Who knows what he might do.”
“Let's stay in my room it's large enough and has a chaise lounge chair big enough to sleep on. We can take turns standing guard.” Randal offered.
“That's good enough for me, let's get out of here.” Ozzie took the bottle of gin, and Randal helped Bridget up from the floor and across the corridor to his room.
“I want the door locked, I'm serious.” Bridget expressed everyone's fear with that simple statement.
“You've got no argument from me.” Randal replied. “I'll take the first watch, you two go ahead and get some sleep.” Ozzie threw himself on the bed, raised up on his elbow supporting his head.
“Bridget, you want to share?” He offered with a wink.
“Not on your life. I'll take the chaise.”
“You can have the bed, Bridget, I'll take the chaise. I was only kidding.” Ozzie countered, sliding off of Randal's bed, taking one of his pillows with him to the chaise lounge. Randal locked the door and then carried a straight backed chair to a position facing the door. He went back to get his duffel bag and dragged it in front of the chair then sat down and put his feet up on the bag..
“Ozzie, you better get some sleep while you can, I'll be waking you in a couple hours to take your watch.
“what about Bridget, doesn't she have to stand watch?”
“You wake her when you turn is done, that's up to you. Now be quiet and get some sleep.” Randal replied, turning to face the door. Bridget turned off the light then climbed into bed.
In time Randal's eyesight adjusted to the dim moonlight illumining the room, Bridget and Ozzie's breathing became deeper and more rhythmic. Randal checked his watch 1:45am, sleep began to tempt him, his eyelids felt heavy. He put his feet flat on the floor adjusting his position in the chair to be a little less comfortable, a little more erect, trying to stay alert, trying to keep himself awake. Not a sound came from the other side of the door. The only sound in the room was that of his companions rhythmic breathing.
Randal wondered briefly if Heinrich was hurt, but He wasn't concerned enough to leave his post to go in to check on him tonight, not while the others were sleeping anyway. His head nodded, then snapped back up.
A soft ticking, tapping came from the door, Randal reached into his duffel bag for his flash light, pointed the beam at the door, in time to see the crystal doorknob slowly turn just a bit in one direction and then just as slowly a bit in the other, Heinrich must be feeling all right, Randal thought. He was tempted to yell at him, to tell him to go away, but he knew better, Randal waited in silence. If Heinrich is going to try to attack us while we sleep, he will have a surprise waiting for him. The doorknob jiggled harder, louder, then nothing. He must be going to the next room, he isn't sure where we are, good. Randal stood up, and silently position himself to the side of
the door and waited, is case Heinrich came bursting in through the door, but then a light tapping came from across the room, from somewhere near the canopy bed where Bridget lay sleeping. Randal swung the beam of the flashlight across the room sweeping the light back and forth to see if he could expose any intruder in the room.
Nothing.
A scrambling scratching sound came from nowhere and yet everywhere in the room at once, above, below and all around surrounding them. Mice, or rats, that is what it has to be, nothing more, it can't be anything else. Yet he wondered. While Randal was scanning the room with the flashlight the doorknob rattled violently beside him. It knows we are here, Randal's fear rose in his throat like molten lava about to erupt in a fountain of vomit. How can they sleep through this? Then the knocking came, first at the door, then the wall, more hollow of a sound, louder. Knock, knock, knock then a pause a moment of silence while it waited for a reaction from those inside, then louder from across the room knock, knock, knock! Whose there? Randal thought and then began to laugh uncontrollably. Knock, knock, knock, this time booming from the ceiling, shaking the chandelier, dust and plaster falling from above.
“Whose there? Orange. Orange who? Orange you glad I didn't say banana!” Randal said aloud, then through his head back and laughed and laughed until his sides hurt.
Boom, boom, boom! It came crashing from the door this time louder still. Randal could feel the wall behind him vibrate with the force of the blows. Then the scurrying of little clawed feet running this way and that across the room, on the floor, in the walls, and on the ceiling, Randal closed his eyes held them shut for a moment afraid to see what may be lurking in the dark. Randal knew ignoring your enemy meant disaster more often than not, so forcing himself he opened his eyes and scanned the room from side to side and from floor to ceiling holding the flashlight. Not so much as a mouse was visible. How can they still be sleeping, can't they feel it, Don't they know it's coming for us?
Scurrying little claws scratched their way up his legs, he felt his skin tear and peel beneath his pants. Randal shined the light at his jeans and saw bulges throbbing moving little bulges pulsating up the length of his legs. Randal screamed and beat at his legs with the flashlight in his right hand and with the fist of his left hand. Suddenly the chandelier light came on temporarily blinding him, but that didn't stop his efforts at killing whatever it was clawing it's way up his legs.
“Randal cut it out! What on earth are you doing?” Bridget cried in disbelief. Ozzie jumped up from the chase lounge ran to Randal and grabbed his wrists trying desperately to stop him from beating himself any further.
“Stop it Randal! Stop it right now!” Ozzie shouted with as much authority as he could muster. “There is nothing there, Randal. You are only hurting yourself, please stop.” Bridget said approaching him hoping to sooth his fears. Ozzie managed to force the flashlight from his hand and tossed it aside before he could hit himself with it again. Randal looked into Bridget's eyes, he looked frightened, dazed, but seeing the concern in her clear brown eyes somehow calmed him.
“What the hell is going on here?” Ozzie asked, just as a clear loud knock came from the door.
“Is that you Heinrich?”
“Who else would it be.” Came the reply.
“Don't let him in.” Bridget whispered, gently taking Randal by the wrists. Randal blinked, once, twice as if trying to wake from an awful dream and adjust to the reality of the situation.
“Let him in.” Randal said. It wasn't Heinrich who choked you, Bridget. Let him in.” Randal seemed to be returning to himself. Bridget agreed.
“Ozzie open the door.” she said. Ozzie looked at the door, but didn't move a muscle. The door silently opened of it's own accord and Heinrich stepped into the room, his head somehow tilted oddly on his neck.
“That door was locked, I swear it was locked.” Randal said aloud, to himself as much as anyone else in the room.
“I seem to have dozed off in the other room. Did I miss anything important?” Heinrich asked the small group sincerely concerned that he may have missed an apparition of his beloved Theadora. Ozzie chuckled, Randal laughed hysterically.
“3:00 AM, the witching hour. Are you game to try again tonight? Or would you prefer to wait until the cock crows?” Heinrich asked with a smile revealing his ancient yellow stained teeth.
“Some of us haven't had any sleep yet.” Randal ventured.
“Some of us just awoke from a restful nap.” Ozzie replied.
“I am glad you are rested then, let's get to work while the spirits are willing.” Heinrich held out his hands to the others. “ “Let's form a circle, take my hands, please.” with more mindless obedience than enthusiasm Ozzie and Bridget each took one of Heinrich's hands then held theirs out to Randal. Randal sat motionless staring at them as if they just went insane.
“Take their hands Randal, they won't bite you, will they?” Not knowing why he did it Randal reluctantly took Bridget's hand in his, and then Ozzie's completing Heinrich's circle. Instantly he felt twinge of electricity course through his hands into his arms completing a circuit somewhere within his chest. He felt filthy, he felt defiled.
“Theadora, hear us.” Heinrich intoned, “Theadora come to us.” Heinrich repeated in a melancholy chant. “Theadora, do you have anything to say to us?” Randal felt a jolt come from Bridget's hand, he looked and her eyes had rolled up into her skull so that only the whites were exposed. Her breathing was heavy, uneven and unnatural, she gripped Randal's hand with strength he didn't suspect she had, then in a hoarse growl she spoke.
“Heinrich, What are you doing here? Why have you invaded my home? Why do you disturb my peace?”
“Theadora, I miss you. There is so much I never told you, so many unspoken thoughts.” Pounding echoed from the walls, the door opened and slammed shut so violently Randal thought it would break from its hinges and fall to the floor.
“Theadora, I love you.” Heinrich pleaded.
“There is no love here. Why do you call me from my sleep?” Bridget growled.
“I brought you a gift, a body for your use. A young woman's body, warm flesh for you to inhabit. Take it, take it and keep it, Theadora please, you can live again! We can be together.” He pleaded. A table near the bed took flight and flew across the room smashing into the vanity mirror shattering it into shards and splinters scattering the pieces across the floor. The broken bits of mirror reflected light about the room in an maddening pattern of light. Randal jerked on Bridget's hand.
“Bridget, snap out of it!” Randal jerked his hand free and took Bridget by the shoulders shaking her.
“Wake up! Bridget, wake up!”
“Leave her be!” Heinrich shrieked at him. “You can't stop it now, don't you see it is too late!”
“Bridget, snap out of it, don't let them take you.” Bridget's head pulled back and she roared in demonic laughter.
“Theadora, we can be together again.” Heinrich intoned. Randal slapped her across the mouth, but she only laughed all the more holding his gaze, staring at him, laughing at him. He looked at Heinrich for some sign of compassion for the girl, but saw only an evil knowing smile grimaced on his ancient face. Randal glanced at Ozzie. He appeared to be lost in sleep. Randal knew he had to act and act now before it was too late. He turned to Randal and struck him in the face, not once, not twice but again and again knocking him to the floor and then continuing to pummel the old man as if his life depended on it. The the coarse laughter coming from Bridget stopped.
Heinrich let out a groan and lay motionless on the floor where he fell, his face a bloody mask. Randal Got up from the floor, grabbed Bridget by the blouse, noticing his bloody hands for the first time. No time to do anything about that now. He pulled her after him dragging her out of the room. Running in the dark, down the corridor as fast as he could trying to get his bearings ignoring demonic the shadows dancing along the walls, pulling Bridget behind him. Randal hoped he remembered the way to the great hall and then the
exit, but the only thing he knew for sure was he had to get out of there before it was too late.
Laughter echoed after them. The old man must be alright. Randal thought, Randal was relieved, he had feared that he may have seriously injured Heinrich, that he may have killed him. Running for all he was worth, gasping for breath, his breath burning in his throat, he felt the space of the great hall more than saw it. Knowing escape was now within their reach he doubled his efforts. Bridget seemed more awake, more herself now, she appeared to be moving under her own power now, relying less on his strength pulling her along, but running beside him of her own free will. They made it to the opening, it was the great hall, moonlight shown from the windows exposing the great doors of the formal entry.
“This way!” Randal shouted tugging on Bridget's arm to be sure that she followed him out. They ran up to and into the door. Randal fumbled at the latches unlocking them, glancing behind to be certain Heinrich hadn't followed. Unlocked he tried the doors. It felt as if the doors were pushing back against him. Randal tried again, throwing his weight into the door forcing it open. A gust of cool fresh autumn air greeted him washing the scent of the vintage mildew of the castle from his lungs. He was out, he had made it! Randal turned back and Bridget stood motionless at the threshold, looking out from within.
“Bridget, come out of there!” Randal ordered, but she only stared in his direction. Wanting to run away as far and as fast as he could, but not willing to leave her behind, Randal reached back over the threshold for her, grabbed her arm again and pulled her out into the fresh air. he kept moving until they were safely in the grass near the riverbank. Once there, Randal let himself relax. He let go of Bridget's arm and he let himself fall to the ground exhausted and out of breath.
Ozzie walked silently approaching from the castle disturbing only the dew wet grass.
“So you were just going to leave me there?” Ozzie accused with a shallow smile on his face. Randal suddenly felt ashamed, remembering how he left Ozzie alone with Heinrich. How could I leave Ozzie behind like that, alone with that crazy old man.
