“Hey, are you okay, do you want to get out?” Mike asked, his brown eyes searching hers as he placed a tender arm around her shoulders, and drew her to him. She turned her face into his chest, and concentrated on listening to the steady beat of his heart, instead of the terrors that screamed all around her.
“No, it’s okay; I need to do this,” she mumbled. “I just don’t want to look. Please can you just guide me over?” she begged, and she clung onto him even tighter as she closed her eyes tightly shut.
“Okay, but just say if you want to go,” he insisted.
“I will,” she mumbled.
As he held onto her tightly, he felt her trembling and he walked her slowly guiding her so she didn’t touch or feel anything.
“Okay, we are at the stairs now, do you want me to guide you down?”
“Yes, please,” Matilda managed. She had no idea this was going to affect her so badly. If it wasn’t for her need to discover the truth about all of this, she would have run until she could run no more.
Mike placed a hand around her waist and another on her elbow.
“Okay, one step at a time, there are eight,” he instructed.
“Okay, thank you, Mike,” she said gratefully. He guided her steadily down each step, his face sadden by her reaction. He had heard some of the men gossiping about the Hall, and Matilda on the first night they were here. Most thought her parents were murdered, but unfortunately, there were a few who knew that as a child Matilda had insisted they were killed by a demon. Mike soon made his position regarding their gossiping quite clear; it stopped immediately. If anyone said anything to Matilda, they would find themselves off the job immediately and without pay. Regardless of rumours, Mike knew whatever Matilda believed she saw that day, was the truth.
As she reached the bottom she opened her eyes, and the torch light reflected his deep, dark eyes as they stared worriedly back at her.
“How are you doing?” he asked. Her eyes were wide as they stared back at him, and he could see she was fighting back her tears.
“Good, thanks,” she replied.
“Well, here it is,” he said, and with his torch hand outstretched he swept the beam of light towards the oak door.
He pulled out the three keys and stuck the first one into the lock. It didn’t turn and neither did the second. She swallowed, as the chance of the last one fitting was remote, and she really needed to see what was behind that door.
“Let me do the last one, please?” she asked, holding out her hand.
“Sure, here,” he said, giving it to her.
Matilda took it from him, and she turned her back to him mumbling a spell. She tried to hide the key as it illuminated for a brief second. As Mike didn’t say anything, she assumed he didn’t see. She stuck it into the lock and turned it. It clicked, and then undid.
“Shit, it worked,” she said, pretending to be surprised.
“Yeah, that’s amazing,” he remarked, a slight sarcastic twinge to his voice. She looked at him and lifted an eyebrow.
“Go on, open it,” he urged ignoring her stare. She turned back to the door and pushed. A rusty, scraping sound came from the door as it opened and Mike immediately shone his torch inside.
“Let me go first,” he insisted, pushing her out of the way, and stepping past. Matilda grabbed his back and followed behind him.
“What’s this?” she asked, letting go of him and approaching a stone table. As she ran her fingers lightly across, it made her tremble.
“It’s some kind of altar,” Mike said, pointing his torch at it as he stood beside her. “Did your parents practice witchcraft?” he asked, glancing to her.
“What! No,” she retorted quickly, looking back at him. “At least – I don’t think so.” She looked back at the table. God, what if they did, what if that was the reason the demons had come. Did her parents dabble in black magic, were they able to perform magic like her? Shit, did she inherit this ability from them?
“What are you thinking?” he asked curious at her silence.
“I don’t know what to think,” she mumbled, casting a look at him, still unsure whether or not she could trust him enough not to laugh or be afraid of her.
Mike shone the torch across the stone.
“This looks like it’s stained with blood,” he said. She stood alongside him.
“No, I can’t believe my parents knew about this chamber,” she insisted, disbelief colouring her voice, and she gave a shake of her head. “They were not sadists.” Her face must have reflected her terror at such a thought because Mike laid a soothing hand on her back.
“How long had they owned the hall?” he asked.
“It has been in the family since it was built in 1666AD. My grandmother still lived here when my parents first married.”
“On your dad or your mum’s side?” he asked.
“Mum’s,” she replied.
They searched but found nothing with the limited amount of light they had from his hand torch.
“I will come back down with some stronger lights,” Mike said. “I don’t think we will see much in this darkness.”
“Okay, I need some air anyway.” She was starting to feel sick, and she wanted to get out of this side of the Hall. Mike took her arm, and started to move towards the door. Something tugged her other arm and she jumped startled.
“What is it?” Mike asked feeling her suddenly jolt.
“Something touched me,” she mumbled.
“Seriously?” he asked.
“Yes, seriously,” she retorted. As he shone the torch into her eyes, she lifted her hand to shield them from the light.
“What?” he whispered, noticing her eyes widen.
“It’s doing it again,” she whispered back, “but harder this time.” Matilda began to move away from Mike as whatever it was, it was pulling her towards the back of the room.
“Matilda,” he whispered, a quiver in his voice, and he took a step towards her grabbing her arm to stop her going any further.
“It’s okay, Mike, I think it wants to show me something.”
“It, what is it, oh god,” he mumbled. “You’re freezing.” She nodded at him, but still it pulled her arm.
“Follow,” the voice, whispered. She caught her breath, as it was that voice again.
“Did you hear that?” she asked him.
“No, I can’t hear anything.”
“He told me to follow,” she told him.
“Follow what?” he asked. Matilda turned, faced the wall, and lifted her hands across it.
“Mike, it’s an illusion, there is a gap in the wall.” She started to squeeze into it.
“Wait, let me go first,” he insisted, shining the torch at her. She was hesitant to let him, but she could see the determination in eyes.
“Okay,” she agreed, stepping back to let him go first.
“It’s a tunnel,” he said as they emerged on the other side. It was very claustrophobic as she could touch both sides of the tunnel at the same time.
“I wonder where it goes,” she whispered, her hand slipping up his arm. Matilda desperately wanted to illuminate her orb, but she couldn’t not in front of Mike. So instead, they had to rely on his single torch to light their way.
“Let’s go and see shall we?” he said, and he moved steadily forward, guiding her through the tunnel. After a few minutes, they entered what appeared to be another chamber.
“What, I don’t get it, what was the point of telling me to come in here,” she groaned, disappointed to find nothing in there. He shook his head as he too gazed despondently around the cavern. The torch light dimmed and Mike banged it on his hand.
“The light’s going, we should head back. We can come back with stronger lighting later.” She was going to agree when a sudden chill in the air made her shudder and gasp.
“Up,” the voice whispered. Before she had a chance to reply, Mike looked at her.
“It’s here isn’t it?” he asked, giving her a nervous twitch o
f a smile. She replied with a nod.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“It’s gone icy cold, and the hairs on the back of my neck are sticking up,” he replied.
“He said, up,” she told him. So together, they looked up, and Mike shone the torch on the ceiling.
“What the hell is that?” he asked at the strange markings on the cavern ceiling.
“It looks like a pentagram,” she said, pulling her necklace out from inside her dress. “My mother gave me this necklace for my eleventh birthday, the day – it all happened; it’s for protection. Have you got your phone?” she asked as she had left hers in the tower.
“Yes,” he replied, and he fumbled in his back pocket and took it out.
“Can you take a picture and send it to mine, please?” she asked. He gave her the torch, and she pointed it at the ceiling as he took a couple of pictures from different angles. As it flashed, something on the ground caught her eye.
“Mike,” she said, lowering the torch.
“What is that?” he asked. She bent down and began to brush away at the dirt.
“It’s another pentagram,” Mike said as she revealed another symbol. She stood and shook her head.
“No, well yes it is, but it’s upside down,” she replied, glancing at him.
“Meaning?” he asked.
“Meaning it’s used by the occult. The upward point of the star on a pentagram is representative of the spirit. The other four points all represent an element; earth, air, fire, and water. All these things contribute to life and are part of each of us. This way up it’s used for protection, for good like with my necklace. When it’s reversed, and the point is down, it means it’s being used for evil.”
“So, why one good and one bad, within the same room?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied giving a raise of her shoulders.
“I will have a look on the plans when I get back, and see if I can figure out what is above us. I counted and timed the steps in so I have a rough idea.”
Matilda gave a nod, and he took back the torch. She placed her hand on his shoulder again, following him back the way they had come.
He led her back up the stairs. As she cowered into the comfort of his arms, his desire to protect her was so strong that he almost pulled her to a halt, so he could tell her everything.
“Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?” he offered as they reached the entrance to the front door. She looked at her watch and it was nearly ten.
“No, thank you. I’ve got a friend coming over shortly, and I’ve got a few things to do,” she said. “Thank you, though.”
“No problem. I will get back to work, and see what I can dig up,” he said, thumbing over to the office portacabin. She nodded, and turned away from him.
Chapter Eight
Opening the front door, she went back inside. She wished she had taken Jenny’s phone number so she could call her and tell her not to come. After what happened last night, and now this discovery, she was worrying about Jenny’s safety. She just hoped, as it was daylight, nothing would happen to frighten her friend, or put her in danger.
Matilda picked up their used mugs from the table and washed them up. As she glanced out of the window, her hands dropped to the sink and she stared, watching as a man with a limp hobbled across the lawn. He stopped, turned, and stared at her. He was ragged, his clothes a tattered mess, and his hair matted and showing signs of age.
There was something weird about him and Matilda’s hand reached across the worktop to her mobile phone, she fast dialled and discreetly slipped the phone under her hair to her ear. He was still staring at her when Mike picked up the phone.
“Hi, Matilda, what’s up?” he asked cheerily.
“Mike, there’s a strange man in my garden and he’s staring at me. Do you have any old men on your team? About six foot, wearing scruffy clothes and – and his face looks kind of, weird…..”
“No. I’m on my way,” he said, before she had a chance to say anything else.
“The door’s open,” she replied, and she put the phone down.
Two minutes later Mike rushed through the door.
“Is he still there?” he asked urgently.
“Yes, he’s just staring at me,” she whispered, nodding to the window.
Mike drew alongside her and his eyes caught sight of the ragged man.
“Stay here,” he ordered, and he dashed to the backdoor.
“Be careful,” she yelled as he disappeared through the door. She looked back out of the window, and the man was scurrying away into the trees.
“Hey - you!” Mike yelled, chasing after him. As Matilda watched, her skin crawled with dread, and unable to bear doing nothing, she hurried after Mike.
“Do you see him?” she called, taking a breath as she caught up with him.
“I told you to wait inside,” he said crossly.
“I know, but…” she mumbled looking at the serious expression gripping his face. “I was worried about you.”
He smoothed a hand over his facial hair.
“I lost him. Do you want me to call the police?” he asked.
“Do you really think they would do anything?” she asked.
“Probably not,” he said, with a shake of his head.
“He was really creepy though,” she added, her eyes lifting to his. He lifted his hand and drew it around her shoulder, giving her a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll get a few lads to have a search about and see if we can find anything. He may be a tramp living out your woods somewhere.”
“Eww that’s even creepier,” she said. His face softened and he laughed with an agreeable nod.
“But thank you,” she added.
“Come on,” he said, and his hand moved down to the small of her back, as he gently pushed her towards the Hall.
As they entered the back of the Hall, Matilda heard her name called. For a second, her heart stopped.
“Who’s that?” Mike asked, glancing to her.
“You can hear it too?” she said, sounding relieved.
“Matilda, are you in here?” the woman’s voice called again.
“Oh, it’s Jenny, my friend,” Matilda said. “In here, Jen,” she called back as she walked towards the kitchen door.
“Oh hi, gosh this place is creepy,” Jen said, and she gave Matilda a hug.
“Yeah I know,” Matilda agreed with a smile.
“Hi,” Mike said, giving Jenny a nod of his head in greeting.
“Hello,” she said, with a smile.
“I’ll leave you to it,” he said to Matilda. She lifted her hand and rubbed his arm.
“Thanks again, Mike,” Matilda replied.
“Anytime, if you need me just call.” He disappeared out the back door.
Jenny gave a wolf whistle. “Who is he?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow at her.
“That’s Mike, he’s my contractor,” Matilda replied. “Do you want a coffee?”
“Do you have tea? I’m trying to keep off the caffeine.”
“Sure, do you want decaf I have both?”
“Yes, thanks, I’ll tell you what is he single? If only I wasn’t married or eight months pregnant,” she said with a laugh. Then she noticed Matilda’s secret smile.
“Oh, sorry, are you and him?”
“No, we’re not,” Matilda, replied as she made the tea.
“But you would like to be?” her friend asked. Matilda spun around and leaned back against the worktop. She took a deep breath, her breasts lifting in response to her own thoughts.
“Yes, I think I would, Jen,” she replied.
“Oh, you go girl, he’s hot!”
“I know, it’s just I’m not exactly girlfriend material.” She carried their tea to the table and they both sat.
“Why ever not?” Jenny asked.
“Oh Jen, what happened here really screwed me up. I saw my family brutally murdered and no one believed me when I told
them what killed them. I have spent the last eleven years having re-occurring nightmares, therapy and trying to figure out whether what I saw was even real.”
“What did you see?” Jenny asked, taking a sip of her tea. Matilda hesitated, unsure of what her friend’s reaction would be.
“Tilly, it’s just me,” Jenny said, seeing the concern on her friends face.
“I think it was a demon,” Matilda said, and she waited for her reaction.
“A demon, no shitting,” Jenny replied, putting her mug down.
Matilda shook her head.
“No shitting, Jen,” she concurred.
“What happened, what was it like, I mean was it like they portray in movies?” Jenny asked. Matilda rubbed her nose with the back of her hand.
“A little, I guess. He was huge, at least seven feet,” she swallowed as she recalled the memory. “His face was terrifying. He grabbed my father in his black cloak and he vanished. Mum was cut in half with a scythe…”
“Jesus, Tilly,” Jenny cried, and she reached across the table and grabbed her friend’s hand. Matilda glanced up and gave her a tearful smile. “It took Teddy, and he disappeared like my father. My uncle was swiped across his throat with the scythe and my aunt May – was – was,” she snivelled, “eaten by these flying bug things. It was like something out of a horror movie.”
“Fucking hell,” Jenny cursed, and tears rolled down her cheeks. “And they never believed any of this?” she asked, wiping them.
“No, but would you, if you didn’t know me I mean. It sounds like the ranting of a mad woman. Most of the west wing burned in a fire and my mother’s body and my uncle’s burned in the fire, and they assumed the same happened to my father, my aunt, and Teddy. They thought I was making it up, but I swear on my life I’m not, it’s what acutally happened. So you see I’m pretty screwed up really. It would take someone with a lot of understanding and patience to put up with me.”
“And you don’t think Mike would?” she asked. Matilda shrugged.
“I don’t know. He such a lovely guy and I know he would do anything for me, but…” She shrugged, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “He’s too nice for me.”
Malevolent Hall 1666AD Page 10
