‘After you,’ Jeremy said with a sigh.
Tony closed his eyes and listened to the inner voice that continued to tell him, This is what you’ve been looking for! Real proof! It’s going to make you famous.
He opened them again and began moving towards the stairs, noticing the brightness cast from what he had thought were just decorative, no-longer-working chandeliers. They both pressed their backs against the wall and slowly descended, their eyes searching what was below and along the side of the staircase.
A cold blast of air engulfed them as they reached the midway point in their descent. They both stopped and pressed themselves harder against the wall.
‘You beginning to see the pattern here?’ Jeremy said.
Tony looked up at him and nodded. It was clear to both of them that the cold wind that seemed to materialize from nowhere was the dark spirits’ calling card.
Jeremy tapped Tony on the shoulder and motioned with his head to continue. Tony began moving once more, almost side-stepping down each of the marble steps of the staircase. He stopped again when he saw the three children appear at the bottom. The two girls each held a patchwork doll, and their blond hair was tightly curled like little springs. The boy stood behind them. He looked much older, his dark hair slicked back on his scalp. They all had pale complexions and dark, sinister eyes.
Three voices filled the heads of the two investigators, who stood motionless on the staircase. They both stared at the three children but could not see their mouths move, yet their voices were strong and loud.
‘Come join us. Come join the party,’ the voices called.
The three children began to slowly fade as if made of dust, and the cold wind that blew around them blew them away grain by grain.
When they had disappeared completely, the two men continued their slow descent of the staircase. There was a sudden blast of cold air that seemed to wrap itself around them, and then the three children suddenly reappeared, standing on the same steps as the two men.
They both felt the sudden electric shock of fear and surprise shoot through their bodies. Their fight or flight response shifted into overdrive, and the two men began launching themselves down the stairs, bounding down the steps and missing one here two there. Finally, Jeremy could no longer keep up with what his legs were doing. His right foot slipped off the edge of one of the lower steps, which made him lose his balance and begin to fall forwards. He reached out his hands and found the back of Tony pushing him forward just as he had reached the final step. Tony felt the heavy shove of his colleague and began to buckle under the strain of momentum and weight. Tony crashed face first onto the cold floor, the bridge of his nose and chin splitting open on impact. Jeremy had the unfortunate luck of having his left hand slip from the back of his friend and smash into the floor at an awkward angle. The sound of his arm breaking and the searing pain resonated in his head.
‘Get off me!’ Tony shouted, spitting blood onto the floor beneath his face.
Jeremy moaned and rolled onto his back, cradling his arm that hung limp under the support of his strong arm.
The cold wind began to rotate around them. Dust and dirt from the floor began to lift up and show the spinning vortex of the wind.
Tony pushed himself up onto his knees and looked around, wiping his nose and chin with his sleeve. His eyes widened when he saw the large amount of blood smeared on the material. He looked at his friend, who continued to moan while lying on his back and holding his arm. Tony then looked back up the staircase, expecting to see the three children, but they were gone.
He spat a mouthful of blood that had drained from his nose through his nasal cavity onto the floor.
‘Come on, we got to get out of here,’ he said to Jeremy.
He knelt next to his friend and began to aid him, first into a sitting position and then, once he himself had gotten to his feet, he helped Jeremy into a position where he could get his feet underneath him and allow Tony to pull him up by the armpits. Once they were both standing, they slowly began to walk towards the lights and sounds of the dining room, pushing through the invisible barrier of spinning dust and dirt.
As they entered the dining room, all the laughter stopped. The broad-shouldered man at the head of the table stood and smiled at them as he beckoned them in.
‘You have finally made it,’ he said.
The two remaining investigators froze. They then felt cold hands push them into the room. They both looked around and saw several young children. The girls all had large white dresses while the boys wore black bow ties on their white shirts. They all pushed the two men further into the room. Both Jeremy and Tony tried to stop their momentum by leaning back and pushing against the cold force, but their legs kept moving forward. Soon they found themselves being pushed onto a chair that had been pulled from the table by a couple of men, who bowed and, as they sat, they then returned to their own chairs. The children then moved around the room, each one standing behind a person sitting on a chair.
‘I am so glad you could join us at this special time,’ the man at the head of the table said.
Tony looked at all the faces of the people sitting at the table and noticed their pale complexions. Their clothing and hairstyles were of an early Victorian time. He then noticed the partly eaten body of a man, its side and stomach open and revealing a cavernous void where its intestines should have been.
Jeremy gasped and gagged as if he were about vomit. He had seen the head of his friend and fellow investigator, John. The top of his head had been removed and a large silver handle protruded from it. Tony heard his friends gagging sound, and it distracted him from staring at the cooked flesh on the body. He looked at Jeremy and then followed his gaze until he saw the head. Tony could do nothing more than stare. There was no thought or emotion present at that moment—just the vision of the head.
‘As you can see, your friends have agreed to join us on this special night—a night when we will all become one—one with each other and one with this great house,’ the man said.
His words slowly began to fill the emotionless and empty void of Tony. For a moment there was no sound, and then his inquisitive inner voice began to ask what the man meant.
‘I can answer that for you my friend,’ the man said, smiling at him.
Tony began shaking his head. He was sure he had not said anything out loud.
‘In this house, all voices can be heard. All thoughts can be seen, and all fears and desires can become a reality,’ the man continued.
Tony again shook his head and looked nervously at Jeremy, whose pale skin had an almost green hue to it. Jeremy swayed lightly back and forth as the pain from his arm engulfed his body.
‘What we believe is that once the body has expired, its spirit or energy can be utilized to help us stay here in our own paradise. This house has been passed down from generation to generation—its secrets and rituals handed on to the next member of the family. The family lineage died out, but we found a way to live on. Sacrifice of the innocent, the taking of the will of someone feeds us—it feeds the house and all that are tied to it through blood.’
Tony looked at all the people sitting at the table. They all smiled and nodded. He then noticed the sculpture of antlers begin to move. It swayed gently as if being blown by a gentle breeze. It then began to rotate.
The man looked up at the sculpture and then at Tony and Jeremy and continued.
‘We can give you all that you desire. All you have to do is to give in to us. Your friends have allowed us to share their spirit and energy in exchange for their deepest desires. As you can see,’ he said, pointing up at the sculpture.
Jeremy looked up at the two bodies that slowly moved with each other as the sculpture moved, their nakedness and contorted position looking like a page from the Kama sutra, except that in several places antlers protruded from them. He then began to throw up on the table space in front of him.
‘What…have…you…done?’ Tony stuttered.
‘
The man desired the woman, and the woman had deep feelings for him, so they received their gift. Each other,’ the man said, smiling.
Jeremy suddenly shot to his feet and kicked back the chair. He turned and ran to the open doorway. The children in the room all looked at him as he left, their faces momentarily disfigured. Tony saw their faces and gasped, their real identity revealed: blackened, cracked skulls.
Jeremy ran through the corridor and reached the front door. Even with his arm still being cradled by his un-injured limb, he still managed to launch a heavy kick at them. The loud bang as his foot crashed against the solid oak door echoed around the open hallway. He could feel the cold wind begin to swirl around him, signaling the arrival of a spirit or spirits. He ran back up the stairs, bounding two at a time, until he reached the hallway with all the bedroom doors. He paused, briefly noticing they were all open, and looked back over his shoulder and noticed a spinning vortex of dust and dirt ascending the stairs. He ran along the hallway until he found the room with the large window. The strange grey light from the snow outside still cast an eerie luminance in the room. He ran to the window and kicked at it. The window vibrated, and he stepped back and kicked it again. Still it didn’t give in. He looked it up and down, searching for any signs of weakness. He then peered out through it and stepped back quickly. Gathered on the snow-covered lawns were hundreds of black, misty shapes. Bright white eyes blinked at him. A sudden blast of cold air made him shudder, and he turned quickly to see two boys standing at the door, their faces full of anger. He heard a giggle and saw two girls lying on the bed, their lower legs being kicked alternatively in a playful manner as they rested their chins on their interlocked fingers. There was a flicker of black against the grey light, and two more children appeared, a young boy and girl holding hands, their blank, expressionless faces staring at him. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest. His mind was full of a strange, loud nothingness, and he couldn’t think straight. He could hear only white noise as his brain and emotions exploded within him.
‘You are not allowed to leave.’ The sudden sound of several children’s voices filled his head.
His whole body shook; he was finding it hard to breathe. Through complete fear, he turned and threw his whole body at the large window. The sudden shattering sound of glass pierced the grey night sky. He stumbled briefly before falling. He felt a moment of peace settle over him, and time slowed down; he felt like he was falling for an age. He had time to hope that the fall would end his torment. He waited for the ground to arrive, but it never did.
As Jeremy burst through the window, the dark shadowy figures quickly began to swarm around him, their dark energy swallowing him up.
8
Tony sat motionless in his seat, his mind full of questions. Even in a state of terror, he could still find himself questioning everything.
‘You want to know about your friend on the table? He wanted to be desired and have women enjoy his body,’ the man said, laughing.
Tony managed to force out a question, his voice broken by fear.
‘Why are you doing this?’
The man sat back down in his chair and lifted his glass of wine.
‘Tonight is a special night. The moon is full, and the house is alive with energy. A celestial alignment has allowed us to roam free,’ he said.
Tony sat shaking his head, his eyes fixed on the twisting sculpture. Each time the two entwined bodies of his investigating friends appeared, his eyes widened.
‘We’ve been waiting for you for a long time,’ the man at the head of the table said.
Tony looked at him with confusion.
‘What do you mean?’
‘The world beyond the one you live in is full of opportunity. There is no such thing as distance or time. You can travel and hear everyone and everything. We heard your prayers of wanting to visit here. Our living relatives allowed you to be here on this night,’ the man said with a grin.
Tony shook his head harder and faster.
‘I don’t believe you. You’re just trying to get into my head,’ Tony shouted.
The man began laughing. He placed his wine glass on the table and stood once more. He then began speaking out aloud in Latin.
Tony could do nothing but sit in the chair. He told himself over and over again to move, but his body refused. The man’s voice grew louder, Tony could feel the air in the room become thicker, and then it began to crackle with energy. Little sparks exploded all around the room.
An ice-cold wind began to circle the room, picking up the sparks as they exploded and joining them together until a ring of blue light throbbed above the heads of the guests sat at the table. The children moved closer to the guests who sat in front of them. Tony watched as the young girls and boys faces began to darken. Their flesh began to disappear until all that was left was burnt and charred skulls. They brought their hands around to the front of the guests, each child holding a rusty knife. The guests lifted their heads back as if offering their throats to the blades that hung a few inches from their skin.
Tony looked back down at the man who had his arms raised, his hands disappearing into the pulsing blue cloud of energy. The blue ring became more and more intense as he his voice grew louder. The sculpture in the center of the table spun faster and faster until it became almost tornado-like.
The man at the head of the table suddenly stopped his chanting and removed his hands from the ring of energy. When he opened his eyes, they were a shiny black color.
Tony watched as the children drew their rusty blades across the throats of the men and women sitting at the table. No blood escaped the open wounds, only a dark haze that flowed like smoke up into the ring of energy. Once the last of the black smoke of their spirit had escaped the bodies of the guests, they fell forward, their faces smashing into the plates and food that lay in front of them.
Tony could feel his heart pounding against his chest. The anxiety and fear that had welled up inside of him as he sat and watched the spectral deaths of the guests blocked any rational thought. He could feel his spirit fighting against whatever force was keeping him in the seat. Suddenly he was free. The sudden release caused him to shoot to his feet. The children all looked at him and began to shriek, their high-pitched wails forcing him to cover his ears as he bolted to the door.
‘There is no escape my friend,’ the man at the head of the table shouted just before he faded away.
As Tony reached the door, he had an urge to turn and look back. The sight of the room changed before him like a reseeding tide; half the room was still dressed in all it's splendor and brightly lit and still decorated, while the other half was returning to the darker old room that the team had used as a base camp for their monitors and equipment. On both sides of the room the children still stood, their charred and burned skulls screaming at him.
He ran through to the front door and charged at it. He tucked his head down in preparation for the impact of his shoulder against the door and closed his eyes. The heavy thick-set door didn’t even budge. He found himself rebounding and sliding along the floor.
A blast of cold air alerted him to another presence. He didn’t want to wait to find out whom or what was going to appear; he just wanted out. He pushed himself to his feet, not even noticing the little pool of blood left by the open gash in his chin, reopened the moment he crashed into the door.
He ran back towards the dining room and almost fell over his team’s equipment and monitors. There were no other people or any sign of the ring of blue energy that had hung above the table moments earlier. He quickly looked up at the sculpture and noticed it was back to its darkened, empty self. He moved through the adjacent door and down a small corridor and burst into the kitchen, the darkness of the room causing him to come to a complete stop just inside. He could not see or hear anything; he backed up until he was standing next to the open door. He ran his right hand up and down and along the wall, feeling for a light switch. His eyes searched the darkened room ahead of h
im, and he made several passes of where he thought the switch would be before looking at the wall in the dim light and seeing the little round-tipped switch. He quickly flicked it down and returned his gaze to the room.
The room sat empty; the pots and pans that hung above the large table slowly began to move. He then felt the cold air begin to swirl around his legs before increasing in intensity and height. The clanging of the pots and pans caused a sudden electric charge to run up his back. He spun around, searching the room as the cold wind continued to increase in speed.
‘You can’t escape what you always wanted. You asked to join us,’ several voices said in unison.
Tony ran across the kitchen towards the door in the corner. Pots escaped their hooks and flew from the rack towards the investigator as he raced across the room. He ducked and dodged the metal cooking pans, hearing them crash against the floor or wall. He reached the door and pulled on the handle, half expecting it to resist against his effort, but it flew open, forcing him to stumble backwards. He felt the coldness of the floor tiles on his hands and his backside through his trousers as he hit the floor. He quickly pushed himself up as the voices began to laugh. The sound of the laughter surrounded him as if it were coming from within the swirling wind. He ran through the door and into a corridor. He continued down towards the large oak door at the far end of the corridor that led through to the library. He looked over his shoulder several times, seeing nothing but sensing the energy and coldness of the wind that followed him. Several voices continued to laugh and call to him as he ran towards the door, a door that seemed to be moving away. His eyes widened as he watched it pull away from him. He found himself running faster, his chest burning as his lungs struggled to take in oxygen. The laughter got louder, and he could feel the cold air pushing against the sweat on his neck. He couldn’t run any more, and his body began to buckle, his legs giving way, forcing him to begin to stumble forward. Just as he gave in to his exhaustion and prepared himself to fall to the floor, the large oak door appeared, and he smashed his already bloodied face into the dark-stained wood, his nose shattering on impact.
The Mansion Page 6
