The Haunting

by E. M. MacCallum

  I heard the doorframe crack with a pop and Claire protesting. Then a blurred closed fist collided with the side of my attacker’s head.

  “Jesus, Joel,” Phoebe shouted, skidding into the house. Despite her scold, there was a hint of approval in her voice.

  Still frozen, I was aware of the warm wetness against the side of my throat. Remaining stiff, I eased my hand to my neck and wiped away a sliver of blood. The jerk could have sliced me open.

  I almost kicked the knife away from the limp hand on the floor when I realized my socks wouldn’t give me much protection.

  Reaching down, my eyes trained on the man’s face, I plucked it from the floor. His green eyes watched mine as I stepped back.

  I felt a lump in my throat as I pondered how dangerous he might be. He was in his twenties, not much older than us. He had wild blonde hair, his face taut and pale. He wore pristine clothing from the late 18th century. His rumpled, high-collared white shirt had been ripped at the shoulder. He lay panting but unmoving.

  The interior of the house was grander than the outside. There were tall white ceilings and walls plastered with wallpapers that had the most colorful pink and red flowers. The floors were hardwood though not coated with protector like any 21st century home. Wooden furniture, carved and designed to match, was placed around the room along with glossy vases filled with dried and fresh flowers.

  It didn’t appear as if a monster had just stormed through the foyer.

  Before us were a set of wide stairs leading up. Then to our right was an arched doorway where another room stuffed with couches and chairs sat on vibrant-colored rugs.

  From the floor, our victim asked in a refined English accent, “What is it you want?”

  “Victor Frankenstein?” Claire asked.

  He blinked at her, let his eyes roam down and up Claire once, and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He then inspected each of us briefly before clearing his throat. “Who’s asking? You’re not constables.”

  Our mud-drenched, wild-haired group could be a lot of things, but law enforcement sure wasn’t one of them.

  “Sure we are.” Joel smiled charismatically. “We’re the special kind. We want to know where the monster is.”

  Victor’s eyes widened immediately. For the first time, he moved. He glanced at me first before crab-walking backwards away from us until he hit a wall. Sliding up it slowly, he adjusted his collar. “Monster, you say?”

  “It’s supposed to be here, isn’t it?” I asked Read.

  Read appeared surprised. “I don’t know.”

  “You did the report,” Joel said. “You should know.”

  “How’d you…?” Read’s question trailed off when Phoebe interrupted.

  “It was his wedding night when things blew up. If this is anytime before that, it’s either before he made the monster or after.”

  “What are you going on about?” Victor cried.

  “Victor,” I said firmly, “we need to know where the monster is. He has our friend. If you help us, we might have a chance of killing it.”

  Victor stared at me, lip quivering as if to speak yet he said nothing.

  Phoebe rolled her eyes. “Alright, Vick, chop chop.” She moved toward him with Joel’s intimidating presence shadowing her.

  “You’re all mad,” Victor said in a hushed voice, his eyes glassy as he shrank away from Phoebe’s outstretched hand.

  “Said the mad-scientist,” Read said flatly.

  Just then Aidan padded into the room, nails clicking on the hardwood.

  Victor slapped a hand up against the wall for support, freezing in place.

  Joel saw the terror on his expression and flashed a devious smile. “Alright, now tell us where the monster is or we sic the dog on you.”

  Aidan growled low and threatening. I wasn’t sure if it was for effect or because Joel called him a dog. Either way, we had our threat.

  “It’s not here,” Victor said, eyes focused on the wolf in his entrance.

  I glanced at Read, adjusting my grip on the dagger. “Should we camp out?”

  He shrugged. “What other choice do we have?”

  Claire closed the front door behind us. Slivers of wood sprinkled the floor from Joel’s grand entrance, but it latched into place.

  Phoebe asked, “Where’s the rest of the family then?” Turning to Joel, she said, “We should gather everyone in one area of the house.”

  He nodded.

  The two seemed quite compatible when sharing the leadership responsibilities. It beat butting heads when there was no time.

  Joel snatched Victor’s arm. “Safety in numbers, Victor Remember that.”

  Victor tried to jerk away when Joel grabbed him. “It’ll kill you all if you find it. By putting everyone in one room, we’ll just be a bigger target. Get out of here while you still can.”

  I realized in that instant that he hadn’t been playing coy to save himself but to save us.

  Frowning, I followed Joel and Victor up the stairs. “He has our friend, Victor,” I explained, trying to appeal to his sympathies. “She won’t last that much longer if we don’t do something.”

  Victor twisted his neck to look over his shoulder at me, stumbling on the stairs as Joel led him up. “She’s likely already dead,” he said bitterly.

  I met his gaze. He was serious, and his anger flared before he turned away.

  “In case this thing is inside the house,” Joel warned, “let’s try and keep the noise and questions to a minimum.”

  “Who’s here?” Phoebe whispered to Victor.

  He grimaced, creating deep crescent lines in his shallow cheeks. “My wife and I.”

  Read cursed. “Where is she?”

  Victor didn’t answer at first.

  Read began again. “The monster is in your room. Where is the bedroom?”

  Victor appeared hesitant at first, weighing out the truth in those words before nodding to the left. “Fourth door to the right.”

  Joel released Victor’s arm, throwing it to the side before bursting down the hallway. Phoebe followed close behind, leaving Victor stunned.

  He glanced furtively between the rest of us, and we surged forward as a group, Victor included.

  The scream burst from the room the moment Joel’s hand touched the doorknob.

  The door crashed against the wall when Joel swung it inward, and he disappeared inside.

  Phoebe darted in, but I saw her attempting to skid to a stop just before vanishing.

  Victor pushed past the rest of us, nearly tripping in his haste as he veered into his bedroom.

  I stopped in the doorframe when I saw her.

  She was pinned to the bed, her hands clutching the large meaty ones at her throat.

  She kicked and twisted wildly. Her butt at the edge of the bed, she lashed out, kicking up the white, thin nightdress to nail a kick at the monster’s side.

  “Robin!” I cried.

  “Elizabeth!” I heard Victor shout at the same time.

  I glanced at Victor and saw him staring at Robin as he bolted forward. The master bedroom was far too large for a couple of people. It was half the size of a gymnasium. A four-poster bed sat near the wall, draped in whites and golds. The moon shone through the opened French doors leading out to a balcony.

  I glanced back to see Aidan hadn’t entered yet.

  Overturned chairs and small bits of furniture scattered the room. Joel had to jump around them to try and stop Victor, but he was too late.

  Victor Frankenstein leapt onto the back of his creation.

  The stitched monster howled a protest but pushed his hands deeper into Robin’s throat.

  She couldn’t gasp a surprise. The only sound was her flailing feet as she kicked at the monster and the smack of her hands as she slapped at the monster’s hands in vain.

  Phoebe and I bolted forward. It was better not to think too hard about violence. It made me clumsy.

  Raising my dagger, I poised to strike, but Phoebe got to him fi
rst.

  She kicked the back of the monster’s leg, directly behind the knee.

  Buckling, the monster lost his balance, and his grip loosened on Robin’s neck.

  At first, nothing happened. I waited for her to breathe only to see her continue to struggle for breath.

  Phoebe jumped over a chair to get to us, and Victor’s flailing legs kicked her in the chest. She was thrown back by the whirlwind struggle and hit the opposite wall.

  Robin sat up, large red hand prints on her slender throat.

  I remembered CPR where we’d have to use a straw or hollowed pen to create a hole in her throat so she could breathe. I wasn’t sure I could do that. In fact, it had been so long ago that I doubted I’d remember exactly how.

  I grabbed one of Robin’s flailing hands and yanked her off the bed, away from the fight.

  In the same instant, I heard her take a deep, rattling breath. Her eyes bulged as she took another loud intake of air.

  Relief flooded through me as I dragged her away from the chaos. I turned to try and give the dagger to someone else when I realized we were ready to bolt for the door.

  Phoebe recovered, ducking around the monster while Aidan crouched in the way.

  “Come on,” Joel shouted. “Let’s go!”

  Claire started for the door first.

  “Don’t separate!” Joel roared, but his words barely made it through the madness.

  Claire didn’t reappear, perhaps not hearing him.

  “What about Victor?” Robin rasped, her eyes wide and horrified.

  Phoebe shouted, “We’re leaving him. He’s not one of us!”

  He was part of the grave, but a small twinge of remorse passed through me nonetheless.

  Victor was flung against the wall, shouting wordless battle cries.

  Freed, the monster latched dark eyes on Robin.

  One by one, my friends ran out of the room.

  I started to pull Robin when I felt her resist.

  “Victor!” she called, her voice less raspy, but only slightly. “Come with us. We have to go!”

  Was that an English accent she was sporting?

  Phoebe grabbed Robin’s other arm, and together we jerked her stubborn legs from under her and forced her to run.

  She called Victor’s name over her shoulder, running on bare feet out the door.

  Aidan kept the monster at bay, snarling and snapping his jaws. Darting in, he’d bite at the monster then hop back out of arm’s length, ears back and saliva stringing patterns on the floor.

  “Hurry, Aidan!” I shouted and half dragged, half carried Robin out the door.

  Victor caught up to us. “Elizabeth!” he gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

  Robin shook her head. “What is that thing?”

  “Why are you talking in an accent?” Phoebe demanded.

  I heard glass shattering behind us at the same time that I found the stairs.

  Half turning, I nearly tripped down the steps. Letting go of Robin, I snagged the railing before I could launch myself over the edge.

  The wolf wasn’t behind us, I realized.

  “Aidan?” I called.

  Panic soared through my chest, and I started back toward the master bedroom, arms stiff at my sides as I readjusted my grip on the knife again.

  Phoebe moved to grab me.

  With a jerk of my arm, I managed to duck out of her reach.

  “Fuller! Don’t separate!”

  Skidding to a stop in the doorway, I saw the glass scattered across the floor, glimmering in the moonlight like beads of water.

  On the white balcony, I saw a dark wet streak span from the ground and up over the edge of the stone railing.

  “Crap,” I breathed.

  Neither the werewolf nor the monster was in the room anymore.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  I couldn’t walk through the glass in my socks, so I backed away from the doorway.

  Spinning on my heels, gripping the dagger tightly, I felt the anger beginning to swell. I half expected to feel the warmth in my stomach, but it didn’t churn.

  I caught up with Phoebe and the group, passing them as I skidded down the stairs in my desperation to get outside.

  “What happened?” Phoebe shouted, panic rising in her voice.

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. What would I even say in the short seconds?

  Aidan fought the monster, alone, and there wasn’t time. We had to help him.

  If I lose Aidan to this…I allowed the thought to trail off, unable to finish as I felt the tug inside my chest.

  Victor called, “Miss Nora, don’t—”

  But I was already out the front door, tearing around the side of the house. Joel and Claire bunched together on the front step, watching me with strained expressions.

  Phoebe and Read caught up with me, leaving Robin with Victor on the front steps of the house.

  Veering around the corner, I saw the bushes just beneath the balcony had been flattened. Likely in the scuffle. At least they didn’t fall on solid ground, or worse, concrete.

  “Aidan?” I called. Despite the torn bushes and dug-up dirt from Aidan’s wolfish claws, they were nowhere to be seen. I tried to build up the energy inside my chest, but it still wouldn’t respond.

  I heard a bark, sharp and piercing.

  I scanned the tree line and felt Phoebe’s breath on my shoulder. I could see her piecing it together, glancing up at the balcony then to the bushes and trees.

  I didn’t spot them first, though.

  Phoebe launched herself toward a dark stretch of shadows beneath canopy-like trees. They were much further than I’d expected.

  Racing after her, I could see Aidan favoring his front left paw as he circled the monster.

  The monster had blood streaking from an open stitch on his temple and wobbled when swatting at Aidan whenever he drew close.

  Weary and out of breath, the two circled each other, waiting for the other to present an opportunity to attack.

  Following Phoebe, I ran with the knife, holding it so the tip pointed to the earth. The last thing I needed was a “running with scissors” mistake right into Phoebe’s back. Considering my clumsiness, I didn’t think I was being overly cautious.

  Phoebe skidded to a stop just outside of the fighting circle with Read close behind us, already panting.

  I heard Read cry out a protest as I darted past, running around to the back of the monster.

  It seemed the best place to start. With Aidan distracting him, I lunged.

  I plunged the dagger deep into the monster’s left side, just beneath the ribs. I couldn’t believe I managed to do it.

  The blade slid in with a sickening ease, tearing through the fabric and skin as if I were cutting vegetables. The thought made me hesitate.

  The monster retaliated while I stood there stunned at my own violence. A powerful elbow slammed into my shoulder.

  The stunning pain sent me stumbling backward, the world tilting.

  My hands were slick with the monster’s dark blood, and I lost the knife. I caught a tree before I fell and wiped my hand on the rough bark.

  Behind me, I heard Aidan snarl, the sound spotting goosebumps down my spine.

  Twisting, I saw the monster pivot, eyes wide, wild, and narrowing in on me.

  Gasping, I backed into a narrow tree trunk behind me.

  The monster plucked the dagger from his side and looked at it inquisitively before charging. To my surprise, he didn’t drop the dagger.

  Aidan jumped onto his back, howling and sinking long canines deep into the monster’s shoulder.

  Yelling, the monster twisted back and forth violently, swinging the wolf like a pendulum.

  It wasn’t longer than a few seconds before he managed to throw Aidan from his hold.

  Aidan soared through the air toward Phoebe and Read. Phoebe shoved Read out of the way so he didn’t slam right into them.

  Read tried to catch him but seemed to change his mind at the last minute an
d side stepped. If Aidan wasn’t a three hundred-pound wolf, I could have blamed Read for the move.

  Landing hard on the grass, Aidan skidded for a second before rolling to a stop, unmoving.

  Phoebe shouted, jerking me from my worried trance. I refocused in time to see the arm swinging down at me.

  Screaming, I ducked and dodged to the right, brushing against Phoebe.

  She grabbed my arm and yanked me forward so hard the muscles in my neck popped.

  I felt a wind at my back and heard the sharp tear of material, but there was no pain as Phoebe hauled me through the trees. Being so close to having my spine severed was enough to launch me forward with a renewed speed. Fear was a great motivator.

  We wove around the branches, looping back to dart out into the open, making a big circle to keep our friends in sight but at the same time distracting the monster.

  We burst through the trees onto the mansion grounds again. The open space around the house left us little places to hide.

  I could see Victor, Robin, Claire, and Joel making their way around the house to find us.

  Aidan was on his side panting but otherwise wasn’t getting up. Read crouched near him and appeared to be talking to the giant wolf while staring towards us as we darted across the manicured lawn.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see the monster’s advance.

  The knife glistened crimson in his hand.

  “Stoooppp!”

  At first I thought that Victor spoke to us as he darted out in front of the train wreck of a creation.

  Phoebe and I kept running until we were far enough ahead we could slow to a plodded, exhausted stop. Leaning over, I panted, trying to catch my breath. My heart raced in my chest, making me feel sick.

  Phoebe didn’t appear as worn out, though she wasn’t completely unaffected. She brushed a hand over her shiny brow, and we both turned to watch.

  Robin began to shriek. “No, Victor, don’t!”

  To my relief, Joel held her back. She thrashed to free herself, shrieking hoarsely.

  “What’s wrong with her?” I asked.

  Phoebe said, “I think she really believes she’s Elizabeth, Victor’s fiancée.”

  I started to protest when I found myself staring at Robin. Her face was streaked with new tears as she wrestled for freedom. The white nightgown twisted around her tiny body in a tangle. She sobbed and screamed, fear coating her like a second skin. She didn’t know who we were.