THE APPOINTMENT: A chilling ghost story of malevolence and death

by Peppi Hilton

  She could only hope that her efforts to save Kelly would win the day and that if he appeared again it may prompt her to recall the warnings that Francine had put in place. She could do no more.

  They parted with Francine promising to drive Kelly to the airport early on the morning of her departure. That way they could say their goodbyes and all would be well.

  14

  IKelly packed the last few items in her vanity case. It was a pity that Francine’s work had taken her out of town for a couple of weeks, thereby preventing her from driving her to the airport in the morning, as previously arranged. But it couldn’t be helped, Kelly understood that. After all, she too had a job which carried many pressures and which had often interfered with personal arrangements. They had said their goodbyes on the phone that day, with a promise to keep in touch once she got settled over there.

  Francine had been just as excited as Kelly, and that was good. Her relief that Kelly had made it to the final day without any danger befalling her was evident in their conversation, and their friendship was as strong as ever. Whilst the trip was only for three months, which in itself was a rare opportunity for Kelly, it was the outcome of that visit which would hopefully cement their future together, that caused the additional excitement. What the result would be, only time would tell. So Francine would have to wait and see what the future would bring for her dear friend, once she had spent time with her man.

  Kelly wanted to be in bed very early so she would be bright and fresh for the morning. She had already checked everything to make sure her flat would be secure for the time she would be abroad. She had said farewell to her work colleagues, who had organised cheese and wine and cakes on her final day. Everything had gone well.

  She retired to bed at eight o’clock with a mug of cocoa and a book, and after only a few pages she put the light out and settled down to sleep, hoping that the excitement wouldn’t keep her awake.

  It was three in the morning when Kelly awoke with her alarm. She sat on the end of the bed for a while, so she could wake up properly. This was the start of her new life and she felt calm and happy. The man of her dreams had told her he would be waiting for her, and as she turned her head she saw that he had kept his promise. He was standing at a short distance from the end of her bed. They didn’t need to speak, their thoughts transmitted all that there was to say to each other. And she knew exactly what to do. He was in command and she was his servant. His will was her will, and she was born to please him.

  She rose slowly from the bed and as his luminous eyes met hers, they were transfixed.

  This was the man she was made for. She was his creation and he had promised her eternity. Only seconds stood between their life together, immortal and eternal, and soon they would be joined together in his world, where he would be her master and she would be his slave.

  She began to gyrate very slowly in front of his eyes in a manner that he lusted for, as her mind filled with degrading erotic imagery, which she would perform to give him pleasure. As she moved erotically towards him, she released her nightdress and it fell to the floor. He feasted on the image before him, willing her to perform degrading acts of unthinkable sexual arousal, which would debase her very being. She was willing and submissive, her emotions heightened by his insatiable appetite for the humiliating and shameful performance. She knew she was pleasing her master and she wanted it to last forever. But at his final command she moved seductively towards him, offering herself to him like the sacrificial lamb to the slaughter, knowing she would be his and his alone. This was what she was born to do, and she went willingly to Wolfgang Alfonse Gottschalk.

  Two weeks had passed and Francine, still disappointed at having let her friend down by not being able to take her to the airport as planned, had not made contact with Kelly since. She had tried her mobile phone, but it had been disconnected, and her email appeared to have ceased to exist. Francine thought nothing of it, in fact she was pleased that Kelly had heeded her warning and disconnected herself from all contact with the UK - and home territory in particular. It was wise to have taken the precaution.

  Over the past two weeks Francine had given a lot of thought to the evil Gottschalk, who, deniably, was now capable of walking the earth again, his mesmeric powers rejuvenated along with his vile intentions. The tomb which had been unwittingly constructed in the eighteen hundreds, by the then owners who sealed up the infamous bed chamber so that it would be hidden from the world forever, could never have known what their actions would do. They had helped to create an environment where Gottschalk could nurture his wickedness, undisturbed behind closed doors, without the world ever knowing. His powers must have been so extraordinary, that they had excelled even from beyond the grave.

  How strong his passion and lust must have been for the young Swedish girl whose innocence he so ruthlessly stole, and who he was prepared to kill in such a grizzly manner, in order to fulfil his ultimate fantasy of joining them together for eternity. For a hundred and fifty years he must have roamed The Grange and its grounds with the soul of his lover, who had never passed the tender age of fifteen. In his twisted, malevolent mind, he was still in his prime, having been executed at the age of forty nine. He had, with his amazing powers, managed to freeze them both in time.

  But Kelly’s presence that day must have resurrected new passions, resembling those which he had first encountered in eighteen hundred and sixty three, when the ten year old child arrived by carriage at the doors of Hill House. The cravings which Kelly’s arrival had aroused in him, would be fresh and exciting, and had lured him from his sinful tomb. No doubt the inducement would have been like a drug to the senses, and the powers which he had so meticulously used to his own advantage on earth, and beyond, had done nothing to curb his appetite. But he had failed. Kelly had escaped his clutches and gone to the man of her dreams. Surely that would convince Gottschalk that the powers he had enjoyed whilst living on earth, could only work on the living dead whose restless spirits aimlessly wandered the underworld, which he had confined himself and his lover to for eternity. He had no physical means in which to fulfil his desires, his satisfaction could only come from the mind. To think that he could empower someone to-day and lure them with him to the grave, as he had done with Olga, was a futile and ambitious thought even for him, and hopefully his failure would send him retreating to his iniquitous den, and the eternal hell which he had preserved for himself and his teenage bride.

  Francine was convinced that it was now an open and shut case, and she could breathe a sigh of relief. Her original thoughts that he could have endangered Kelly’s life, in a physical way, were wrong, but the damage he could have inflicted both mentally and emotionally would have been real and irreversible. She was now certain of that. Finally she could put her concerns behind her, safe in the knowledge that it was all over.

  But she was so wrong.

  Francine was looking forward to Kelly making contact again, and hopefully giving her some good news about her future with Matthew. And although she had been in America for quite some time now, it didn’t worry her in the least. She had no way of making contact with Kelly, so it was simply a question of waiting for her to get in touch.

  She had cancelled her subscription for the reading club, as there was nothing to be gained by going back to The Grange. The information she had gained about Gottschalk would be erased from her memory forever. She saw no point in attempting to discuss it with anyone, it would be futile, and no-one would believe her. The sealed up bed chamber which had encased an evil spirit from another time, must be left to die in the minds of the world. For surely any attempt to find it, or to open it up, must risk unleashing the revenge of the demon. And who could possibly know the consequences of such actions? As long as the truth about the past remained buried and entombed with its perpetrator, it need never be resurrected from the annals of its time, which surely could only endanger anyone who sought to seek its origins. If anyone ever did learn of the tomb and the evil spirit
which occupied it, maybe they would feel tempted to try and find it one day, but for now Francine’s intention was to let the dead sleep – any attempt to do otherwise, would be venturing into the unknown.

  As far as she was concerned, the trigger on this occasion had been Kelly’s distant family connection to the dead girl with whom he had once become so passionately obsessed. That obsession was so strongly rooted, that he had been prepared to kill her and follow her to the grave. Waking him from the dead, as Kelly’s presence had so clearly done, had hopefully proven to him that he could no longer use his powers again in the world he once knew.

  Time had moved on and Francine returned from a long-awaited Mediterranean cruise. She collected the mail from her mailbox on the way up to her apartment and checked it once she had opened the door. She was hoping to find there was a postcard, or other communication from Kelly. But there was nothing. She was disappointed, but not concerned. She left her luggage in the hallway and walked into the kitchen. She dropped the mail onto the table, removed her jacket, and began to make herself a coffee.

  She sat down at the table and went through the various bills and junk mail, whilst taking sips from the steaming mug. Her thoughts often went to Kelly these days, as her absence seemed to have stretched forever. She understood that her time with Matthew was precious, and that time would pass quickly for her. With all of the upset and terrors which she had faced in her mind, when in the UK, it was no surprise that she wanted to close her mind to it all, by not making contact with home. She must surely be feeling that her only chance of a complete cure was to forget all that had happened, and that could only succeed if sufficient time was allowed. Her silence proved to Francine that things must be going well with her romance, and she knew that her friend would be in touch eventually, when the time was right, and she would be telling her, excitedly, about all the latest developments. That was enough for Francine and she would bide her time until that day came.

  She had a couple of days free before starting work again. The cruise had done her a world of good, but the only thing missing at the time was her friend Kelly, with whom she had planned the trip earlier in the year. Being on her own, and being a good socialiser anyway, she had met lots of interesting people, some of whom she had promised to stay in touch with. The weather had been good, which was a necessary tonic to strengthen her resilience against the miserable British winter months.

  She unpacked her luggage and put the washing machine on. Being the disciplined person she was, meant that it must all be washed, dried, and ironed, before going back to work. She kept at it until it was finished. By nine o’clock that evening she was organised and finished with everything, which included packing all her neatly ironed linen away, and hanging her clothes in the wardrobes. She relaxed for half an hour with a hot milky drink, before retiring to bed.

  Francine was abruptly wakened by noises coming from the kitchen area. She switched on her bedside lamp and glanced at her watch. It was three in the morning. At first she thought she must have left the French doors open, leaving her flat exposed to the sounds from the canal barges below. So she got out of bed and went to investigate. But on entering the kitchen she was faced with an unspeakable scene of horror. She stopped dead in her tracks and quaking with fear she moaned, “Oh my God!” Standing only a short distance away from the French doors, was the grotesque and indescribable image of the inhuman outline of a monstrous and hideous butler. As he stood motionless ahead of her, his eyes caught her attention. They were luminous, and almost magnetic in nature as they drew hers towards them. But although riveted to the spot where she stood she managed to break the connection, and the horror which befell her as she witnessed the devastating image of Kelly quivering behind him, was like nothing she could have ever imagined.

  For a brief moment she felt physically sick at the repugnant sight. Her body quaked in fear, her pulses raced, and her mind worked overtime as she tried to digest the monstrosity of the situation in which she found herself. She felt trapped in a nightmare from which she couldn’t awake - a time zone far out of reach of her normal world. Her wits had frozen in time and her body rendered useless, as she struggled to come to terms with the predicament in which she stood almost paralysed. But something stronger than the evil which held her there, suddenly snapped her out of her inability, and she desperately looked around her for some form of defence. Although for a split second she suspected it would be a flimsy attempt, she reached for the joss sticks which were on the sideboard adjacent to her, and instinctively crossing them in the shape of a crucifix, she aimed them steadily at his eyes, making sure she drew hers away from his riveting stare. When she looked up again, the image had disappeared.

  Her legs felt like jelly as they threatened to buckle beneath her, and her body wouldn’t stop trembling. She collapsed into a chair at the table and burst into tears. She sobbed until she had no energy left. Her poor friend - what had that monstrous beast done to her? How could this happen in to-day’s world – how could it possibly be real?

  Kelly, Kelly, Kelly, she moaned, and cried again until she finally fell asleep, exhausted, at the table.

  Awaking at six in the morning, her bones ached and her neck was stiff. Although the horrors of a few hours earlier came rushing back into her mind, she thought it might possibly have been a horrible nightmare. But her hopes were soon dashed as she glanced at the joss sticks which were strewn on the floor. She began to tremble in fear again, as she was overcome by the dreadful realisation that it had actually happened. But it was still almost impossible to digest. It was no wonder that Kelly had been convinced that it was nothing more than hallucinatory images which had invaded her mind all those months ago, brought about by her earlier mental health problems and overwork. It was almost like being in denial – a way of retreating from the truth. But Francine couldn’t do that, she had no justification in thinking it was anything other than what she’d seen. For her it was much worse than for Kelly, as she could not hide behind any other scenario. For her there was no escape from reality. What she had seen was beyond a nightmare, and beyond anything that could exist in the real world, or even the most warped of imaginations. The forces of darkness had revealed a world, which neither of them would have ever believed could exist on earth. And to what limits that force could go to achieve its goals, was not humanly possible to calculate. Kelly had fallen victim to unimaginable personal consequences and she, Francine, had been unable to prevent it.

  Had he now returned to flaunt his conquest before her very eyes, to taunt her with his evil, and to warn her of his capability? To let her know in his wicked sadistic way, that he had won? Or could his return be a warning to her? Could she too be endangered? Was he now lusting over her, even though she bore no resemblance to any of the others? Or could it be his intention to exact his revenge on her, for trying to come between them? Wasn’t that the nature of the curse he had threatened to unleash on the world? And hadn’t he threatened to extend that revenge on all who crossed his path?

  The thought was too impalpable to digest, and the fear terrorised her thoughts.

  She knew she would have to put a plan in action, although she wasn’t sure what that plan would be. But she had to be prepared for if, and when, he returned. She didn’t intend to just surrender to her doom, whatever that might be, it wasn’t in her nature to give up without a fight. And she would fight him every inch of the way, by whatever means were possible.

  She began by rummaging in a cupboard, and then some drawers, looking for an old bible which she knew had to be in there somewhere. When she found it, she ripped out all of the pages and then proceeded to search for something with which to attach them all to her walls. She continued until she had finished the job and there were no pages left. She had almost covered the entire kitchen.

  She had no idea if her plan would work, but she had cast her mind back to when, as a girl, she had read Vampire stories. She was hoping that some of the things she remembered would stave off the evil, unt
il at least she could get her mind in order sufficiently to know what to do.

  After showering and getting dressed, she left the apartment a few hours later and went into town to a second-hand book shop, to see if she could find anything else, such as old prayer books and maybe more bibles. She bought what she could and took them back to her flat. She wasted no time in ripping out the pages, during which time she found a few religious book marks and pictures with prayers printed on them, pressed in between the pages. She attached all of them to her walls as well, and didn’t exclude a single page from any of the books. When she had finished she felt strangely comforted. She may have only bought a little time, but surely it would be time enough for her to gather her thoughts.

  She knew she should eat, but couldn’t, so she continually drank one coffee after another. Later that morning, her thoughts went to a mediaeval church in a small Yorkshire village only a few miles outside Skipton, where prayer books and other small religious items were normally on show. She decided to go there to see what other artefacts she could pick up. Her only thoughts were to fight evil with good, in the hope that good would be the stronger force. Surely good would be capable of suppressing evil. She knew it was too late to save Kelly, but she realised that she may now be fighting for her own life.