by Amy Cross
“Let me guess. When you turned around, she wasn't there?”
“As if she'd vanished in the blink of an eye.”
“You were tired,” she continued. “Stressed, too. You've been through a great deal, Alistair, and it's bound to affect you. My advice would be to go home early tonight, take tomorrow off as well, and try to get some rest. The place won't fall apart if you miss one day and I'm sure it won't ruin your chances of getting that knighthood you've always craved. On the other hand, if you start ranting about spooky little girls, you might draw some attention and then the powers that be are liable to take a dim view.”
“Do you think so?” He paused. “Yes, you're quite right. I mustn't allow my imagination to get the better of me, must I? I'm sure it was just an unusual reflection that I misinterpreted, that's all. I merely... After everything that happened with Ruth, I suppose I allowed my thoughts to wander a little.”
“Don't. Focus on the task at hand. We've got enough to be doing without listening to stupid ghost stories. You know there's not a shred of scientific evidence to support the idea of such things, don't you?”
The governor nodded.
“And you also know that most folk tales get mangled in the telling? Which means that the stories about Leonora Blake have undoubtedly become mangled. There are very few contemporary reports to back up some of the more ludicrous elements of the story, no-one knows what actually happened, not for certain.”
“There's a yard of bones just outside my window,” he pointed out.
“Do you know, I actually took a moment to look into the prison's archive room and read up on the Leonora Blake story?” she continued, clearly unimpressed. “The record-keeping back then was patchy, to say the least. Some of the files even misspelled Leonora's name as Elenora, for God's sake, so I hardly think we should put too much stock in them. The whole story has grown out of all proportion. Please, Alistair, I had hoped that you might have a better mind.”
“Of course,” he replied with a faint smile. “It's all nonsense, isn't it? Just...” He paused, and the desperation in his eyes was impossible to miss. “It's just not true. Is it?”
Rolling her eyes, Doctor Bell turned and headed to the door, before looking back at him one more time.
“Those bones out there,” she continued, “what are you going to do with them?”
“I've told the inmates to bury everything again.”
“Good,” she replied. “Best place for them. Just make sure they put them deep enough this time, so they don't ever come up again.”
***
“My husband put in a request to visit me again,” Amanda said a little while later, as she was still going through the files one by one. “He wants to come on Monday.”
Doctor Bell looked over at her.
“And?”
“And I... I did what you suggested. I had him placed on a block list, so he can't come and see me again unless I specifically agree to it.” He paused, feeling a knot of emotion in her chest. “And I won't ever agree.”
“Good. I'm impressed, this way you can both move on. Your old life is behind you now.”
“I know. I just worry that I've been too harsh. I keep trying to write a letter -”
“Don't.”
“But if -”
“Don't. You've done the difficult part now, Amanda, you've cut contact with him. Soon he'll get the message, and I'm sure it'll be painful but he'll move on nonetheless. He'll find a new wife, a new family, and he'll be happy.” She paused for a moment. “I'm proud of you, you put someone else's needs above your own. Not everyone can do that.”
“I still haven't found anything in the files,” Amanda replied, keen to change the subject. “It's as if every inmate at Hardstone comes from more or less the same ethnic background. All very white families going back at least a couple of generations.”
“And that's impossible,” Doctor Bell replied, heading over to join her at the computer. “We're going to find out what's really going on here, because something just isn't right.” Pausing for a moment, she turned to Amanda and smiled. “See? You don't need to worry about your old life, not when a nice juicy mystery has been dropped right into your lap here at Hardstone.”
Three years ago
“M'am, please be more specific. What kind of injury has your boyfriend sustained?”
Sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, Emma continued to sob as she held the phone. Nearby, Brad's dead body was face-down in a pool of blood.
“M'am,” the emergency operator continued, “I'm tracking your location now, but before the ambulance arrives, I need you to tell me what's happening.”
“I killed him,” she whimpered through the tears.
“I'm sorry?”
“I killed him,” she continued, looking down at the knife on the floor. “I don't know why, but I just killed him!”
Today
“So it's come to this,” Emma muttered as she reached down and tipped another bag of bones into the pit. “Burying the dead.”
“Good honest labor,” Karen replied as she began to shovel soil into the pit, beginning the process of covering the bones. “These were all women like us once, you know. Forgotten people, people at the margins, people society just wanted to throw out like garbage.”
“They did throw them out like garbage,” Emma pointed out. “Can't have buried them very deep, either. Not if the bones started to come to the surface so easily.”
“Either that or they were forcing their way up on purpose,” Karen continued.
Emma turned to her.
“Think about it,” she added with a smile. “All those bodies down there, slowly crawling up over the years. I mean, we only found the top layer, didn't we? There must be a lot more buried here. Maybe they're sick of being in an unmarked mass grave. Hell, do you think when we're finished with this pit, the governor's gonna pay to have any kind of memorial put in place? Course not. It's back to everything being hidden again and -”
Spotting something down by Emma's foot, she paused.
“Was that always like that?” she asked after a moment.
“What?” Looking down, Emma saw that an almost-intact human hand was right next to her, its fingers curled slightly around the heel of her boot, almost as if it was trying to take hold of her. Horrified, she immediately stepped away, but the hand took a moment to become dislodged.
“How did that happen, eh?” Karen asked with a smile. “Seems like that thing was reaching out to grab hold of you.”
“Don't talk rubbish,” Emma muttered, not finding the situation funny as she kicked the bony hand down into the pit, where it fell apart harmlessly.
“It was! It was actually trying to get you. I guess it could only move slow, like, but that doesn't mean it's not dangerous. Maybe all these bones are listening to us, maybe they're -”
“That's enough!” Ferguson called out from nearby. “Get back to work, ladies. Save the ghost stories for tonight when you're in your cells and you've got no work to be doing!”
“He spoils all our fun,” Karen muttered, shoveling more soil into the pit.
“It's not exactly fun,” Emma replied, wincing as she felt a twinge of pain in her knee. Determined not to show weakness, she got to work, and soon the bones at the bottom of the pit were covered. Turning, she saw that there were still several more sacks to bury.
“You in pain?” Karen asked.
“No, I'm fine,” she hissed, glancing over at her. “I just -”
Pausing, she immediately felt her blood starting to run cold as she realized that off to the left, in the corner of her eye, she could see a short figure wearing what appeared to be a white dress. She continued to stare straight at Karen, not daring to turn and look at the figure as she tried to convinced herself that it was nothing, that she was imagining the whole thing.
“What's wrong?” Karen asked after a moment. “You not feeling well?”
Emma opened her mouth, but no words came out. She f
elt compelled to turn and look at the little girl, even though she'd heard all the stories and she knew she had to fight the urge.
“What?” Karen continued, turning and looking around. “You're staring to freak me out.”
“Don't you...” Emma paused as she realized that the little girl was stepping closer, as if she was trying to move to the center of her field of vision. “Don't you see anything?”
“I see a gray and depressing yard,” Karen replied, “with a bunch of knackered women working grave-digging duty. Why, what do you see?”
“She's looking right at me,” Emma whispered under her breath. “She wants me to look back at her. How am I supposed to not do that?”
“Huh? I can't hear what you're saying.”
“Go away,” Emma hissed, turning to look away but almost immediately seeing the girl again, still in the corner of her field of vision but getting closer and closer. “What do you want? Just go away!”
Karen wasn't the only one watching now; several of the others had stopped work and were looking over at Emma as she dropped her shovel and took a couple of faltering steps back.
“She's staring right at me!” she shouted, still not allowing herself to look directly into the girl's eyes. “Can't you see her? She's right there!”
Karen looked over at Robin, but no-one else in the yard could see anything untoward. They all glanced at one another, as if they were worried Emma was losing her mind.
“Tate!” Ferguson shouted. “Get back to work!”
“What do you want?” Emma shouted, close to tears as the girl edged closer. “Leave me alone!”
“Shit,” Robin said suddenly. “She's seeing her.”
“You mean -”
“Go away!” Emma shouted finally, unable to stop herself. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help herself: turning, she looked straight into the little girl's dead eyes. “Leave me alone!” she screamed. “Whatever you want, just go to someone else!” Taking another step back, she tripped over a mound of dirt and fell to the ground. When she looked back up, she saw to her surprise that there was no sign of the girl.
“What do you see?” Karen asked, hurrying over and helping her to her feet. “Where is she?”
“She's...” Turning, Emma looked all around the yard, but the little girl was nowhere.
“Calm down!” Ferguson shouted. “Everyone get back to work! Tate, stop causing trouble!”
“You saw her, didn't yo?” Robin asked. “You saw the Blake girl?”
“She was right there,” Emma replied, turning to her. “She was right in front of me!”
“But you didn't look in her eyes, did you?”
“I...”
“Emma,” Robin continued, clearly starting to worry, “tell me you didn't look into her eyes!”
***
“Look,” Robin said a couple of hours later as she sat with Emma in one of the cells, “I know we all joke about this sort of thing, but that's probably all it is. It's a joke!”
“You really think so?” Emma asked, turning to her. “I looked at her! I did the one thing that no-one's ever supposed to do! It's just, the way she was staring at me, it was like I couldn't help myself. I kept telling myself over and over again not to do it, but her eyes were...” She paused for a moment. “You've seen her, right? You know what it's like!”
“Yeah,” Robin replied cautiously, before looking over at the door to check that no-one was listening to their conversation. “Actually,” she continued, turning back to Emma, “I kind of... haven't seen her. I was bullshitting. Hell, most of the people in here who say they've seen Leonora Blake are just laying it on thick, know what I mean? You hear a bump in the night, next day you tell everyone you saw a ten-foot poltergeist. You exaggerate. It's how things go.”
“You said you'd seen her twice -”
“I was bigging myself up a bit,” she continued. “Truth is, I once thought I maybe saw something moving near me in my cell. I turned to look, without thinking, but it was nothing, just a trick of the light. That was just after I arrived here, and everyone was telling their Leonora Blake stories like they were part of some big club, so I kinda embellished it and made out that I'd actually seen the kid.” She sighed. “That's what you're doing, right? Come on, Em, tell me you're just pulling the same stunt. It's okay, I won't tell anyone. We'll keep each other's secret.”
“I saw her,” Emma replied, with fear in her eyes.
“Seriously -”
“I saw her,” she said again. “This wasn't a trick of the light, okay? She was right there, she was just a few feet away, and even before I looked right at her I could tell she was staring at me.”
“It was probably one of the other girls,” Robin replied. “Look, all those bones we found, they made everyone feel kinda jumpy.”
“I'm not an idiot,” Emma said firmly. “You don't always have to look directly at something to be able to make out some of the details. Even before I looked, I could tell it was a little girl, just like all the stories say. And then when I did look... Jesus, that kid has got dark eyes, like...” She paused, as if she was reliving the moment. “They're pale, and her pupils are small, and under her eyes she's got these dark rings, almost like her eyeballs have sunk a bit into her skull. And the way she stares, it's like she's concentrating real hard, and it's like she hates you when she looks at you. It was cold, too. I mean, it was cold out there anyway, but it got even colder when she was there.”
“You really believe you saw her, don't you?”
“I know I saw her.”
“Maybe you should get checked out by Doctor Bell -”
“You think I'm making it up?”
“No,” Robin replied quickly, “no, of course not, I just... I think maybe you think you saw it, and you managed to get it all worked up in your head like it was real.”
“Don't you believe in the story?” Emma asked. “You're always one of the first people to go on about it!”
“It's just a story, though, isn't it? It's fun to tell, it's fun to make up things and pretend like it's all real, but do I really, honestly believe that there's the ghost of a dead little girl haunting Hardstone?” She paused for a moment. “I don't know, and that's the truth. It's kinda hard to accept.”
“I didn't believe it,” Emma told her, “not until today. I liked hearing about it, it gave me goosebumps, but I didn't really think it was true. But now, if it is...” She paused. “I'll die, won't I? That's what the story says! There's no way out!”
“You're gonna be fine.”
“How long does it take? How long does someone have left after they see her?”
“They have a long life left,” Robin replied, putting an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to give her some comfort, “because nothing's gonna happen. Come on, there's no need to wind yourself up.”
“I don't have a cellmate.”
“So?”
“So when it's lights out tonight, I'll be all alone in here and the door'll be locked.”
“You'll be fine.”
“What if I'm not? What if she comes to get me?”
“Won't happen, I promise. We'll laugh about this in the morning, okay?”
“I might not make it to the morning.”
“Course you will,” Robin replied, pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head in an almost motherly fashion. “You'll be fine. We'll all be fine.”
Three years ago
“Had you been arguing?” the police officer asked.
Staring straight ahead, her eyes dry now after all the tears, Emma shook her head.
“Was there any kind of tension in the relationship? Money? Other people? Future plans?”
Again, she shook her head.
“And you'd been together for how long?”
“Um... Eighteen months.”
“I've spoken to the neighbors,” said another police officer as he entered the room, “but none of them heard any kind of argument.”
“We're going to have to
go down to the station,” the first officer told Emma, “because what happened here is very serious. Do you understand what I'm saying to you, Emma?”
“I don't know why I did it,” she sobbed, putting her head in her hands. “It's like it wasn't me. It's like someone else took control of my body for a few seconds!”
Today
“I'm afraid I haven't been quite honest with you so far,” Doctor Bell said as she led Amanda across the examination room. “For various reasons, I keep some of my work very much hidden from the rest of the staff here, but if you're going to be my assistant, I feel that I have to let you in to a few of the secrets. After all, I can't keep scurrying around trying to hide things from you, can I?”
Watching as the doctor began to unlock the door, Amanda couldn't help but notice that she was fumbling with the keys slightly, almost as if her damaged hands weren't quite working properly.
“Do you want me to help?” she asked finally, before reaching over and helping to get the key into the lock. “Sorry, I just thought...”
“Thank you,” Doctor Bell replied awkwardly, clearly unused to having anyone help her. “My fingers can be a little stiff when it's cold.”
Amanda watched as she unlocked and opened the door, revealing a gloomy room inside with a bed at the far end, tucked into the space beneath the window. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she realized with shock that there was a heavily-bandaged figure on the bed, its chest slowly rising and falling as if it was in a deep sleep. Nearby, a couple of machines were blinking and beeping.
“We do, in fact, have a patient,” Doctor Bell continued. “I don't want to go into details, suffice it to say that she's a young woman who suffered the most horrific injuries shortly after arriving here at Hardstone. I'm keeping her sedated with a combination of drugs, and to be honest, the reason I'm doing that is that I don't know how to proceed from here. I think I can keep her alive more or less indefinitely, but whether I can actually patch her up and help her to live a normal life is another matter entirely.”
