64
Shelly scraped her hands at the door so desperately, so hard that blood was soon covering the woodwork. In the dark, she couldn't see it, and in her panic, she couldn't feel it. All she knew was that something was behind her and it was getting closer. She had forgotten about Jack, forgotten the adventure this was supposed to be, the only thing in her mind was that death was stalking the darkness.
She had been trying to scream, but nothing would come, the only thing that escaped her were desperate, pitiful gasps. Now she was hyperventilating, and part of her knew that if she didn't stop soon that she would faint. Only how could she stop? Terror was a living beast creeping up behind her, if she didn't escape soon, it would consume her.
A touch on her shoulder, something hard, maybe the stick, finally released the scream and she wailed as loud as she could. She knew the sound would go nowhere, and even if it did there was no one to hear, but still, it broke the spell.
She turned to face her assailant but could see nothing. Her heart beat in her chest so hard she believed it must soon burst. Why couldn't she see? Even in the darkest night, you could always see something. After a few seconds, your eyes always adjusted. So why couldn't she see?
The sound of a stick scraped across the wooden floor was so close. Was it coming for her? Was that stick the way she died. Bashed over the head or stabbed through the heart?
“No, leave me alone,” Shelly shouted into the darkness and all was still, all was silent.
The inky black consumed everything, even the air in the room, making it impossible to breathe, to think, and now to move. At last her knees gave way and she sank to the floor as she did her hand found her phone. The simple movement sent a flash of light into the room. Through it, she saw a young girl with long straggly hair and a bleak face. The girl was staring at her with hungry eyes. One finger was held up in the eternal signal for silence, in her other hand, she held the stick. It was a piece of two by two. Sturdy enough to be a weapon and up above her shoulders it filled Shelly’s vision. She wanted to shrink from it but where could she go? How could she escape?
"Leave me alone," she sobbed into the darkness as the phone switched off.
Her desperate fingers sort out the button trying to switch it back on, to bring light back to the black. Only she couldn't do it, which was ridiculous, she knew that phone like the back of her hand. How could such a simple task escape her?
Once more the darkness seemed to stalk toward her. The scraping sound strummed her nerves like a virtuoso would tantalize his strings.
Scrape... scrape... scrape.
Where was the noise coming from? What was the point of it?
Then the sound stopped. Her head flicked this way and that, trying to hear, trying to discern if anything else hid within the devil’s obscurity. There was nothing, not even a sigh, not a thing and that was worse for it gave her no idea where the girl was. If she was even still there.
Holding her breath, she imagined the stick above her. Ready to rush down and crush her skull. Fighting back her tears she tried to think, what could she do? There was nothing.
Then she heard another sound, it made her jump and scoot back toward the door until her back crashed against it. As she cowered in the darkness, she realized the sound was her own sobbing, for a moment she almost laughed. Not laughed with joy or even humor, she was close to hysteria, and part of her knew she had to hold on.
"What do you want?" She had wanted to shout the words but what came out was little more than a whimper.
There was no answer just the darkness.
"I came here to help you, tell me what you want."
The sound of a child's mocking laughter and the scrape of that stick to her left was the only reply she got, but the darkness lifted a little.
"That's it, let me help you. I can give you peace. I can let you leave this place... all you have to do is let me."
The darkness lifted a little more, she could see the girl in front of her. There was a sneer on her face, and the look in her eyes was enough to have Shelly pushing back against the door. The stick was in her left hand slicing through the air like a sword, and yet it made no breeze.
Then she heard a light and joyful laugh from the other side of the room. Turning she saw the young boy. The one who had helped her, the one she trusted.
"Hello," she said
He smiled in such a cute way that she wanted to go to him.
"Can you help me?"
He nodded, the light came on to reveal an empty room with peeling paintwork and stains on the walls and wooden floor. The boy was not quite corporeal and surrounded by a light mist. He was looking across to where the girl must be, Shelly found her eyes following his.
The girl was still there. She shook her head as if to say no. Now the stick was touching the floor and as Shelly watched she scraped it back and forth. Her scowl still pulled her face down, and she too was a little translucent only the mist that surrounded her was dark.
Did this mean it was too late for her? Could she not be saved?
Shelly didn’t want to think about this, so she gave the girl a smile, and turned back to the boy.
"Can you get me out of here?" she asked.
The question widened his eyes. The smile slipped off his face. Gently he shook his head and looked at the girl.
Shelly wished she knew what she was doing. If she had brought some salt or remembered the rituals, then she would have a chance. All she expected from the house was to have a session with the Ouija board and have a few conversations with spirits. Then she had intended to get one of them to communicate with her sister. To apologize and then she expected to say a few words and leave.
How had it all gone so wrong?
Because you know nothing. The words were inside her head.
Part of her wanted to argue, but the girl was right.
"I meant no harm, just to help you... I just wanted to see, to hear, and to tell her I was sorry.
She knows the voice was a young child's voice, the boys. Shelly turned to him and smiled her gratitude.
In one moment he was stood across the room and then he flickered and in the next, he was stood in front of her his hand held out before him.
Shelly gasped, but she knew he wanted to help, and now she believed that he would.
She reached out to take his hand... her fingers went straight through his. There was nothing but a touch of cold and a feeling of static.
He shrugged and leaned his head to the left.
Shelly nodded and climbed to her feet.
The door opened, and she walked out into the hallway.
"Can you help me find Jack?" she asked looking behind her, but the boy had gone.
Yes, the voice was in her head. She whipped around to see him in the corridor walking toward the stairs. But it may be too late.
65
Jesse left the dark clearing and raced back through the woodland. Branches whipped at his face and brambles snagged at his feet, but he wouldn't slow down. The torchlight flashed as he ran causing shadows. Places for him to trip and almost fall, but it was enough for him to find his way as he rushed down the dark path as quickly as he could.
Part of him knew he had to get into that house and he had to do it now. It wasn't just the scream, it wasn't because he was sensitive, after all, he wasn't anymore, but something told him it had to be now. It was like he had a connection and yet he couldn't explain it. Maybe it was guilt, just guilt because he should have neutralized this house some time ago. There was also anger. A deep fury at the ghostly priest because he refused to help them. What did he have to lose? The man had been dead for years. They had already offered to send him to peace. All he needed to do was to be brave for just one more time. To help them gain entry, was that too much to ask? Jesse didn't think it was and he was angry and disappointed at himself because he didn't have the skills to persuade the spirit to help.
He could hear that Gail was behind him, but he rushed on hoping to get into the house b
efore she arrived with him. She was anxious and confident. If he wasn’t careful she would use her power, her sensitivity, and she would contact whatever was in there. Her ability was strong, she believed she could handle anything she met, only Jesse had a bad feeling about this and his instincts, his gut, told him it was better if she didn't connect until they knew more.
Part of him had hoped she would stay in the clearing. That with her empathy and people skills she would be able to persuade Nick to join them. To help them this one last time before he was sent to peace. He wasn't sure why she had followed him because he knew how much she cared. In her mind she was ready to set Nick free, she would believe it was his right, he just hoped she wouldn't have done it just yet. He hoped that once she had spoken to him, connected with him a little more, she would have understood that he needed to do this as much as they needed him. Only there had been no time to explain all of this. Now he was racing through the darkness, through the trees, toward God only knows what.
Panting heavily Jesse ran out onto the gravel and passed the two cars. Without pausing, he jumped over the undergrowth and trampled more of it as he made his way along the overgrown path up to the house.
His bag was still at the door with the equipment and Holy Water waiting for him. Placing his hand on the door, he recited the releasing prayer. All his intention asked the higher power to release the door. Then he sprinkled the handle with Holy Water closed his eyes and turned the handle.
Nothing happened.
Gail arrived at his side panting, red-faced, she raised her eyebrows to ask.
He shook his head, they were getting nowhere at least not yet.
Though he had been stood still now for several minutes, he was still gasping for breath. The effort of putting all of his intentions into opening the door was just as hard as racing through the woods. Concentrating he built up his power inside, built up all the intention and all the energy he had. Directing that thought through his right hand on the handle, he sprinkled Holy Water on the door with his left hand.
"I command you open by the power of Jesus Christ. Release all ungodly hold on this gateway and let us pass."
Sweat was running down his neck, and the muscles in his shoulders shook with the effort. Relaxing just a moment he tried to turn the handle.
It could have been set in stone because there was no way that he could move it.
"Aaarrgghh," he yelled out his frustration into the night.
"It's okay." Gail put her hand on his shoulder and tensed muscles. "Let me try. There will be good spirits in there, I can contact them, I can get us inside."
"No!" Jesse snapped the words much more harshly than he intended.
"Dammit Jesse, then why am I here if you won't let me help?"
"Look I... It's not that I don't want you to help, it's not that I don't believe in you... in all the power that you have... it's just a feeling... I can't explain it more than that. It's not fear for you or foolish male protection... something... I guess you would say my gut is telling me you shouldn't do this."
"Yes but maybe I should, maybe I’m strong enough. I can do this."
Jesse could see the strength and beauty of her. He loved her so much that it hurt to tell her no. But every instinct he had, said that he must.
"I hear you Gail I really do but trust my experience. A lot of what we do is done on a feeling. I may not be sensitive anymore, but Sylvia told me to trust myself, in this incident I do."
Gail nodded. "I understand. I will listen to you for at least a little longer. She also told you to reach for your power. Maybe you should try that one too?"
Jesse nodded and wondered if it was worth a try.
Gail was looking at him, her arms crossed, her eyebrows raised, so he guessed he had no choice. The problem was he didn’t really know what Sylvia meant.
He shrugged and closed his eyes. Letting out a sigh he then took in three deep breaths and tried to enter a meditative state. It was difficult. All his mind wanted to do was work the problem. How did they get in? What else could he do? Could he still get Nick here? Should he let Gail try? How did they get in? Around and around his monkey brain wanted to go but he reigned it in and tied it down and forced himself to think of nothing. It was so hard when time was so desperately short, but he was getting better at this. Soon he was relaxed enough to call out for his spirit guides.
"Guide me wise ones. Be with me in the dark places and guide me back to the light. I call on you my spirit guides to help me out tonight. Help me enter this place of darkness to bring those inside back to the light."
With his eyes still closed he let his mind feel out into the veil hoping for any sign any touch from his guides.
The contact was almost instant, and he couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. He was enveloped in a feeling of warmth and love. Suddenly his face was warm and wet as if the moist tongue of his favorite boxer dog had just given him a great big kiss. Looking down to his feet he saw Rose sat there. There was a twinkle in her eye, and he could swear there was a smile on her face. She whined gently and then turned to look at the woods. Taking a few steps, she looked back and whined at him again.
Jesse nodded at her and then shook his head. He understood Rose wanted him to go back to Nick's grave... it was too far. It would take 10 minutes to get back there another 10 minutes to get back here, by that time, the young couple could already be dead.
"Rose it’s so wonderful to see you but help me get in here, I haven’t got the time to find the priest."
Rose walked a few steps further away looked back and whined again, then she woofed at him a little frustrated, trotted back, and then trotted away again.
"I haven't got time maybe Gail can go with you?"
Rose came back to him and laid down at his side letting out a mournful moan that tore out his heart and brought tears to his eyes.
"I'm so sorry Rose... I don't have time."
The sound of an old man's laughter echoed from the edge of the woods. Jesse looked up.
Peeking out from behind a large oak tree was an old man dressed in dark clothes his white hair stood up on his head like he had just got out of bed. There was an inane grin on his face, and he was pointing into the trees. Jesse recognized him immediately. It was the laughing man, the second of his spirit guides, the one he couldn't make out. The one who had haunted him as a child and scared the crap out of him on more times than he could count. So even the laughing man wanted him to go find Nick, but there wasn't time. He was about to open his eyes to tell Gail to go with the other two spirits when an old and gentle woman's voice spoke in his mind.
My sweet boy trust us to guide you back to the light. The priest is what you need, but you do not need to run to find him. Reach for your power, and you will find it there. Believe in yourself, connect with Nick. Understand his suffering and show him yours and you will find your way.
"Sylvia, Sylvia it is so good to hear your voice. I don't understand. I don't have any power."
You have all the power that you need, the voice was fading as if it was blown away by the wind. Trust me, my sweet boy, for there is very little time left.
66
Shelly followed the little boy down the stairs. The tatty trousers around his feet and ankles and his elbows stuck out painfully from the smock. Occasionally, he would look back. There was always a cheeky smile on his gaunt face. Despite her desperation and the need to hurry, she had the urge to hug him. To pull him into her arms and to tell him that everything would be okay. But she knew that was useless. He was a spirit. Her arms would go straight through him.
As he walked down the stairs, the light began to dim. It was imperceptible at first. Though she knew something was wrong, she couldn’t figure out what it was, so she kept looking around trying to work out what had changed. Breathing was harder. Was that because she was excited, anxious, or was it really happening? The further she descended, the darker it became. Fear was the monkey on her back. Shouting at her to run, run, run.
"Do you know where Jack is?"
The boy turned around and nodded, but his eyes were wide and moist with unshed tears.
"Are you taking me to him?"
His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
Shelly knew he could communicate within her mind, he had done it before. So why wasn't he doing it now? Did he have something to hide?
They got to the bottom of the stairs, and her only light was the torch. It cast shadows across the walls and left so many hiding places. The darkness loomed toward her, and she was constantly turning her head searching, but searching for what?
In front of her, across the huge hall, was the front door. For a moment she wanted to run to it. To yank it open and to escape from this dreadful place, but she couldn't do it. She couldn't leave Jack, and even if she made such a cowardly move, would the house let her escape? Somehow, she doubted it.
The little boy hesitated as he reached the center of the room. His eyes scanned the room and then were pulled back to the kitchen. Again, he tried to look away, to turn toward the library. But those sad, moist eyes were snapping back like a yo-yo hitting the end of its string.
The dim light and the brightness of the torch gave him a skeletal effect. It sunk his eyes into his cheeks and created shadows around his face. Unlike his fear, it was just an illusion. He looked down toward the corridor, and then back at the kitchen. His eyes hardly rested on the kitchen doorway before he looked elsewhere. This time it was the library. And then he looked at her, but he couldn't manage a smile.
"Do we need to go to the kitchen?" she asked him.
For a moment he turned away from her and started to fade. Would he disappear? Would he leave her once more, unable to find Jack and all alone?
The Ghosts of RedRise House Page 37
