The master paid for the physician to come and see my Mabel today. The man told me to make arrangements. What use was he? So, I wait and will see what I can do for my girl.
The demon says he will come back tomorrow and tonight I will pray. I will ask the Lord to help me make the right decision. I will ask him to forgive me for I cannot let my baby die.
Rosie fought back tears. One thing she had never told anyone, the one thing that played on her mind and kept her awake at night was the fact that she could not have children. It was one of the reasons that Clive was always angry with her. When she found out, she told him. In her mind she expected his support and yet he treated her as if she had betrayed him. That was when she should have really left and yet having just lost the chance to have a family she could not let go of the one person she cared about the most. Yet, this was not the time to be dwelling on her past, not if she wanted to survive, to have a future.
Since she had been back, so far the house had been quiet and nothing else had happened. She had put all the downstairs lights on and had some tunes playing on her phone. Adele was currently singing about Rolling in the Deep. It made the house feel less empty, less threatening, and yet she knew it was just a foolish mind trick.
Taking a sip of her tea, she made a few notes on what she had just read. It was late, past 11 at night, and yet she did not think she would sleep. The more she learned, the greater chance she had of surviving this.
Part of her wished that Amy was here now and another part wished that her friend would stay well away. Would the spell that was cast upon her that prevented her from leaving this place, be gone when Amy turned up? Or would they both end up trapped in this hell? It tormented her mind and yet the hope and wish to see Amy kept her going.
Rubbing her eyes she turned back to the book and began to read once more.
Nothing really came of my prayers. It is as if the Lord has abandoned me. Maybe it is what I deserve, after all I have offered up my very soul for the safety of my Mabel.
Now I wait, with just a single candle burning, for the demon to arrive.
There is always a stench of rotten eggs, of sulfur, just before he appears and I can smell it now. My stomach flips, my heart pounds, I know that I should run from this beast and yet he is my only hope. This is the first time I have left my Mabel’s side in some days. Yet I do not want to do this in front of her. Part of me thinks that she would be disappointed in me and that I could not bear.
Rosie looked up as she heard a noise. It was just the cat. He slinked into the room and rubbed against her leg. Rosie scooped him into her arms and set him on her knee. Stroking the silky fur and feeling comforted by his presence she continued to read while Adele sang about Turning the Tables. It seemed appropriate.
The smell of sulfur entered the room and then he was here. This time he made no pretense of walking through the door but simply appeared before my eyes. My heart was beating so fast I felt it may burst from my body and yet I must keep going for just a little longer.
“What would you do to save your daughter?” the creature asked.
A lump formed in my throat. I had to swallow before I could speak and I fear that he will think I have changed my mind. Sweat was running down my forehead as I tried to get the words out. Can I see amusement in the ugly face before me? I thought I could, and it frightens me. At last I can speak. “I will do anything,” I tell it. “I will give you anything I can, I will do anything I can. Just ask and it will be yours. If you want it, you can take my soul.”
The Demon laughed and I felt a chill run through me.
“I will do this for you,” he said. “I will make your girl well, I will let her live a long, long life; all I ask for is her soul.”
I felt as if my heart has been crushed and ripped from my chest. I could almost see it in the creature’s clawed hand. It takes one last beat before he squeezes it and the very life of me runs from between its gnarled fingers. “You have asked for the one thing that I cannot give,” I tell the creature. “How can I give away a soul that is not mine?”
“Then go to your daughter, for she will be dead within the hour. I will be listening throughout this her last night; all you have to say is, ‘I agree,’ and she will live.”
The creature was gone. It just disappeared from before my very eyes and left me with my guilt, my fear, and my tears.
Rosie had to stop reading. The story was horrifying and she felt such sorrow for the father who had to make such a terrible decision. How could he watch his little girl die and yet how could he pay such a terrible price? She wanted to close the book, to go to sleep or even just rest, yet somehow, she knew that her life depended on the knowledge she would gain here.
Her throat was dry and she was feeling cold. So she took a sip of tea and found it had long gone cold. While the kettle boiled, she grabbed a jumper and then made herself a fresh pot. Refreshed, she sat back down to read and learn, and hopefully to find a way to escape this place.
As I sit by my dear Mabel's bed, her breath that was once so labored and so terrible to hear is now so faint. It is also slowing down and yet I can see the pain she is suffering. Just a few moments ago her eyes opened and pleaded with me. I do not know if they plead for life or for death and it tears my heart apart. I'm holding her hand now willing her to fight or to let go I no longer know which is for the best.
“Help me daddy,” she pleads. “Please just make the pain go away.”
Her skin is so pale and she gasped as I touched her forehead. I can take no more. God forgive me for what I am about to do. Letting go of her hand I close my eyes and say, “I agree.”
16
I agreed, I said the words and the creature appeared before me. The smile on its face was as cold as a winter's morning and it sent chills deep into my bones. Only that does not matter for it reached out and touched my Mabel and instantly her breathing eased. She is sleeping now. The lines and stress have gone from her face and her color is coming back. I know I have done the right thing and I cannot wait to hold my girl in my arms when she is healthy and strong.
The next two pages of the journal were blank. It was as if he had left them and had intended to come back and write something else. Why had he not done so? It did not matter....she had to keep reading so she turned the page, hoping that the story would have a happy ending.
It has been two days since I made the deal and at first, I was very happy. I did not feel the need to write in this book. Or maybe I was too ashamed to do so. At first my Mabel was wonderful. She smiled so much and laughed and thanked me for all I have done. Yet, today I saw her push one of the children down the stairs. If I had not caught him, little Jeremiah would have been badly hurt. Why would my girl do such a thing? Sometimes when I look at her I wonder if she is my girl anymore. Perhaps the creature already took her soul and perhaps what he left behind is not the best of her.
Rosie felt her chest tighten. She should have known this was coming and yet she always wanted the happy ever after. It was hardwired into her and she could not think that the story would not end well. For several days, nothing happened and Bartholomew began to relax again. His joy was short lived.
I believe my Mabel is fighting whatever possesses her and I believe she is losing. Now, I wonder what possessed me to put my little girl through such torture. For surely, what she has become is worse than death itself. She is now a cruel child who thinks of no one but herself.
Rosie read on and on and on and could not believe the awful circumstances that Bartholomew had gotten himself into. With each turn of the page she wished that he would succeed and yet, to do so, he had to kill his own child. This was the most awful story she had ever read and she wanted to slam the book closed and walk away but she felt compelled to read on. Maybe, just maybe her own life depended on it.
It has been six weeks since I made the deal. For most of them I have regretted it, and now I fear for my life. Tonight, I will commit the most heinous crime known to man. I will kill my own child.
>
Rosie turned over the page, she hated that she wanted to read about how he managed to kill the child for maybe that was her way to survive. Yet there were just two words on the next page and they appeared to be written in blood.
You Failed.
The next few pages were empty there were just marks, just red smudges on the parchment and nothing more. Then the writing changed and someone else took up the story.
My name is Nicholas Aubrey and I am a local priest. I arrived at the house today to find the family and all the children, as well as my good friend Bartholomew Matthews, dead. It appears they have been heinously murdered. I was so overjoyed to find that Mabel survived. Yet I do not know how, but I have to thank the Lord that at least someone made it out of this awful massacre.
Rosie read on as the priest described what he found. Everyone's throat had been cut, just like she saw the girl, Alice, in her dream and all the children who pushed her from the window. The cat was disemboweled and hung on the door. Just like in her dream. Only this was not the end. Mabel hadn't survived... she had committed the massacre and it wasn't long before Nicholas found out what had really happened. In an act of bravery he tried to exorcize the demon from the child and to lay the lost souls to rest. He wrote down exactly what he was going to do as well as the prayer that he would use to chase the demon from the child's body, but that was the last entry he made.
Once more, Rosie turned over a page to see those two words written in blood. Was it Nicholas's blood this time? Somehow she knew it was.
You Failed.
Rosie turned back and reread all he had written. She reread the exorcism prayer and committed it to memory. Maybe this was all she would get from the book; it wasn't much, but it was a start.
There were a number of blank pages in the book after that, but then the writing started again and once more it was a different hand that penned the words. The person was unhinged and the words did not make sense. Perhaps it was Mabel fighting the demons or perhaps the demon just didn't care, Rosie got little from the next 30 or 40 pages.
Then gradually the demon began to chart its life. It spoke of power and control and how much it, she, loved those things. Apparently she could affect people's minds and bend their will to her own purposes. Was that what was happening to her? Rosie guessed it must be.
As she read on, the demon knew that it needed to take sacrifices and it became bored on its own so it set up an orphanage. Apparently it was easy to do. It appeared that in those days there were no regulations and people were often desperate to get rid of children. Such a thought threatened to drown her in sorrow. With each turn of the page she read of hurt and pain inflicted on the children. It tore at her heart but she must keep reading. She must stay strong, there had to be something within the book to help. If not, then why had Alice lead her to it?
Every ten years or so, Mabel started to suffer with her breathing. It looked like the consumption came back. To overcome it, she had to take a life, to make a sacrifice to the demon. Each time she did, her power grew. Then there came a number of people who found out. Rosie was glued to the pages, hoping to find a new way to destroy the spirit. Shock halted her eyes on the page. They did not want to destroy her and called Mabel “Old Hag.” What they wanted was to worship her and bask in her power. So she developed followers who would help her kill and torture.
Rosie kept reading but her sense of unease was growing. So she skipped to the end of the book and found out that Old Hag was bored with staying at this house. She wanted out but she could not leave. Rosie turned the page back and forward looking for more information but there was nothing.
How could she stop this evil from leaving? How could she escape herself?
She had not learned much but she had the prayer, and also from the priest, she knew that salt would weaken the spirits and the demons.
Rosie was as prepared as she could be. Now all she could do was wait. She had no way of calling the spirits to her. She must wait for them to make a move. Somehow she knew it would be tonight. There was a feeling in the house of tension, of a presence. She could not work out if it was friendly or harmful.
Time ticked past so slowly and fatigue was like a weight on her shoulders, dragging her down into the promise of rest... of sanctuary. Yet, the last thing she wanted to do was sleep, for she knew that Mabel, Old Hag, would take over her mind if she succumbed. Somehow, she knew that if she slept tonight that she would never wake up again.
To keep herself awake, she went to her desk. There she opened a blank document and typed out the exorcism prayer. She put a salt container on her desk and she fetched her Bible from her bag. She had carried it around for years and yet she had not looked at it since the incident with Clive. Right now, Clive was the least of her worries.
With that done, she expected something to happen but the minutes ticked on and on and she began to feel fatigue. A yawn opened her mouth and closed her eyes. It muddled her brain and lulled her to rest.
Shaking her head she fought the feeling. Still, nothing had happened and yet she could feel someone watching her. The hair on her arms rose as goosebumps traced across her skin. It was harder to breathe, as the room seemed to vibrate with unseen energy and yet it did not feel threatening. Could Alice be here?
“Alice, is that you? Can you help me?”
The temperature dropped in the room and she could see a darkness against the wall. With her heart pounding in her throat and her breath held she watched, as Alice gradually came into view.
“Can you help me?” she asked again.
Alice shook her head and started to fade.
“No, please don't go. If you can't help me, can I help you?”
As she watched, the figure seemed to grow in strength. She was still translucent but appeared more real and tears formed in her eyes. Blinking them away, she floated across the room towards Rosie. Anguish crossed her young face as she tried to talk yet it seemed that she could not speak the words so she pointed at the exorcism prayer.
“This,” Rosie said, as she picked up the paper. “Will this help you?”
Alice nodded and Rosie heard words in her head.
I do not think you will be strong enough to destroy her. Every one of us here gives her strength. We do not want to, we want to rest. Maybe, if you say the prayer with meaning and with fortitude then maybe we can rest. If you can send enough of us away, then maybe you have a chance. Just keep reading the prayer and put your soul, your faith, and your heart into believing that she... that we all... must leave.
“Thank you,” Rosie said and watched as Alice faded and was back at the other side of the room. She was fainter now, transparent and she shimmered in and out of view.
Rosie felt hope. She had a plan and as she watched, more of the children appeared. They did not look threatening this time. In fact, they looked as if they were waiting for Christmas or for some amazing treat. There was excitement in their eyes. They held hands and whispered to each other. If she could do this then she would have done some good and she could have her happy ending.
Filled with new purpose and a feeling of strength, she picked up the paper and began to read the exorcism prayers.
17
Rosie took a deep breath and centered her mind. She wanted the children to find peace. She wanted to release them and she concentrated on that thought as she read out the prayers.
“Visit this place, O Lord, we pray, and drive far from it the snares of the enemy.”
It felt wrong. The children were not her enemies and yet she could see from the smile on Alice's face that this was what they wanted.
“May your holy angels dwell with us and guard us in peace, and may your blessing be always upon us; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”
The pressure in the room increased and she felt as if she was being squeezed. As if the air had gone out and there was no longer enough to breathe. She could see from the faces of the children that they were frightened and she knew that Mabel, the Old Hag, was behind her
. What should she do? Should she turn around and concentrate on the stronger spirit or should she try and remove some of her power by carrying on reading out the prayers.
It was too much, she needed to see what was behind her and she faltered in her reading and began to turn. Panic crossed Alice’s face. Rosie stopped and looked at Alice. She was so young and so brave, Rosie nodded she would do this for them, for the children. Ignoring what was behind her she looked at the children and carried on with her plan. What good could she do against such a powerful creature? No, she had to stick to the plan and she continued to pray. The next part was easy for it was a simple releasing prayer. Yet the urge to look behind her was more than she could take. Her shoulders tensed and she flinched with each word, excepting to be slammed from behind, or worse.
“In the Name of Jesus, I rebuke the spirit of Jeremiah Patterson. I command you leave this place, without manifestation and without harm to me or anyone, so that He can dispose of you according to His Holy Will.”
As she said the words, she watched the smallest of the boys before her step forward. A smile broke out on his face, and like the sun breaching the clouds, it filled her with warmth. That one sign of human kindness chased away a little of her fear and filled her with a sense of achievement.
He mouthed the words thank you and then he was gone.
She did not know how she knew his name but it had come to her just as she had said the prayer.
There was a roar behind her and something hit her back. Tumbling against the desk she stood and faced the spirit.
The hooded creature was just feet behind her. The hood hid her face and the taller man was at her side. Though she could not see her features she could feel the anger and hatred that rolled off her. It thickened the air and filled it with the fetid odor of rotten flesh. Rosie gagged and fought down the urge to vomit. She had to stay calm. Matron, Mabel, or Old Hag, was angry and she was afraid. Nothing else mattered, she had to get rid of her. Then she could give these children peace, and if she did that, she believed she had a chance to save herself.
The Ghosts of RedRise House Page 10
