“Listen to me, John.” She reached for his hand, which somewhat surprised him. “I’ve experienced something today too—something that isn’t normal.”
“Like what?” he asked, almost arrogantly. Inside, he felt trapped and still wondered why that call he’d been trying all day kept going to voicemail.
Reluctantly, Cindy explained to both her husband and daughter what had happened that day. Ashley was aghast, yet relieved that now someone else in the family believed her. John was dismissive.
“That’s really odd what you’re telling me, Cindy, but I haven’t experienced anything out of the ordinary in this house. And furthermore, what do you expect us to do? Pick up and leave? We’ve invested a lot of money in this place. You know that!”
“So, in order for you to believe us, you have to have the same experience yourself. Is that what you’re saying?” Cindy asked angrily.
“That’s not what I said. Besides, you didn’t believe a word Ashley said before now, until you claimed to have experienced something paranormal yourself. How dare you judge me?”
Cindy turned away, knowing he was right.
Ashley stood up. “Please don’t fight again! I know you’re not gonna like this, Mom, but I went over to our neighbors, the Cullens, this afternoon and I spoke with Rosie, the young girl. She knew what was happening in my room without me telling her.”
“You took our business over to strange people?” Cindy was horrified.
“I didn’t go there for that. The conversation just came up.”
“You know how I feel about mixing with people, Ashley!”
“Oh, stop that nonsense for once in your life, will you?” John barked. “It’s old, Cindy. It’s just plain old!”
“So do you want her spreading our business everywhere like we’re a bunch of fruit cakes? How would you live that down on your job if it gets out?” She was almost in his face.
“Of course I don’t want our family business all over the place. That’s why you two need to stop with all of this talk right here and now, then there’s no way anything can get out. I don’t know what you’ve experienced, but what I do know, is no matter what, we can’t pick up and move again. I’m not dealing with that stress—financially nor mentally. I can’t take it. Not right now!”
“Maybe our neighbors can tell us why all of this is happening,” Ashley suggested.
“Ash, please…leave it alone. Whatever you think is happening is likely to go away on its own.” John spoke more calmly, as he gently gripped his daughter’s shoulders. “I’ve just reached home; I’m tired; I’m beat and I have a report to do tonight that’s due first thing in the morning. I’m gonna grab something to eat, go inside my office and I’m gonna forget about all of this. I would advise you two to do the same.”
He walked off and left them standing there.
A little more than an hour later, John was slugging away at the computer. His office, a one hundred and eighty square foot, sound-proofed room, was situated downstairs on the eastern side of the living room.
With a little less than half of his coffee remaining, he figured he’d be finished within two hours, then could finally put everything work-related behind him. He never knew their Mizpah office could be so busy, but at least he loved what he did. Something in life, aside from Ashley, was actually meaningful.
He picked up his cell again. It had been on the desk next to his keypad. He decided he’d try that number one last time and if there still wasn’t an answer, he’d accept his fate for what it was. He’d done so before and would do so again, this final time. Never would he bring himself to make that call again.
Just like all the other times, it went straight to voicemail. He opted not to leave another message. Tomorrow morning, he’d be changing his number.
At 9:47 p.m., John keyed in the last figure and saved his gigantic file. He breathed a sigh of relief that the report was finally done and he could put it behind him. After shutting down the computer, he opened the door and switched off the lights. He was about to leave the room when suddenly, the computer turned on again. Making a full 360, he saw the sign-in box being filled with little round dots where his password went, then the mouse’s white arrow clicked back into his work document. John slowly approached the computer, in awe of what he was seeing. At the top of the file where his report’s title was, appeared the letters, one by one: H A T E H A T E H A T E H A T E. Then, the cursor moved to the first paragraph and there again was typed: H A T E H A T E H A T E H A T E H A T E— until the letters filled ten rows, pushing the information he’d typed himself further down.
Unnerved by what was happening, but determined to save his file, he took the mouse, closed the document without saving the changes and shut the computer down again.
Then, out of the darkness appeared bright blue orbs darting around the room, shooting upwards, downwards, diagonally and in all directions. He even felt their energy. Suddenly, the computer turned on again, repeated the log in by invisible hands and this time, entered a blank document. Two words were typed: Miss you.
John flew out of the room and didn’t realize he’d screamed so loudly, which caused Cindy and Ashley to run downstairs.
“What’s going on?” Cindy cried.
“I…I…” John was pointing in the direction of his office.
“Did you see her, Dad?” Ashley asked.
“Who? No. I didn’t see anyone.”
“What happened then?” Cindy probed.
John ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Nothing. Nothing. Everything’s fine. I’m sorry I startled you. Let’s just go to bed.”
He switched off all the lights and followed Cindy and Ashley upstairs, who were both suspicious that he was concealing something. Before they reached the landing, the doorbell rang.
“Who can it be at this hour of the night?” Cindy stopped in her tracks.
“I don’t know.” John ran back downstairs and opened the front door. On the other side stood Mira Cullen.
“May I help you?” John asked, befuddled by her presence.
“I’m Mira Cullen. I live across the street.”
Cindy and Ashley joined John downstairs and stood behind him.
“Right! You’re Sara’s daughter?” John asked.
“Yes.”
“It’s very nice to meet you. What brings you here so late?”
He noticed her eyes were almost glued to a spot behind him and he glanced around.
“May I come in a minute? I won’t be long,” Mira answered.
“Sure. Come in.”
“Miss Cullen, it really is very late,” Cindy said. “We were just about to go to bed.”
“Cindy! Please!” John glared at his wife.
“Hi, Ashley,” Mira smiled at the teenager who waved and smiled back. She thought it best at the moment not to respond to Cindy Morrison. There was nothing friendly or warm about her energy.
“Would you like to sit down, Mira?” John asked.
“No, thanks.” She stood in front of a window near the front door.
“Mister and Mrs. Morrison…”
“Please…” John interjected, “…it’s John and Cindy.”
“Okay,” Mira replied. “I know you don’t know me other than the fact that I live across the street from you, but there’s something I must tell you and before I do, I think you should be told a little about who I am.” She searched their eyes and all she saw in them was curiosity.”
“You sure you don’t wanna sit down?” John offered again.
“No. I’m fine.” Mira paused. “I don’t know if my mother mentioned it, but I’m a medical doctor at Caring Hands Clinic in town. I also have a certain gift which some people may or may not understand.”
“What kind of gift?” John inquired.
“I’m able to see things that some people can’t see and I’m sometimes privy to information that might not be public knowledge,” she explained in a nutshell.
“Where are you going with this?”
Cindy asked, impatiently.
Mira glanced her way. “You’ll see in a moment.” She turned to John. “May I continue?”
“Please do.”
Ashley stood there feeling like something good was coming—as if Mira was her savior.
“You have a visitor,” Mira said. “Someone who’s been uninvited has been here with you in this house from the moment you arrived.”
No one said a word. Each of them understood that statement in their own way.
“This visitor—a woman—desperately needs something from each of you.”
“This is ludicrous!” Cindy blurted. “Are you some sort of quack?”
“Maybe it would be better if you just saw for yourself,” Mira replied.
“Saw what?” Cindy asked.
Mira looked in the exact spot she’d been fixating on since she arrived at the house. “Mona, use your energy like you did in Ashley’s room and show yourself.”
Mona—the name was familiar to John. How many Monas could there be and who the hell was Mira referring to? He wondered.
Each of the Morrisons turned around in the direction of Mira’s gaze and they almost collapsed when they finally saw what had held her interest for the better part of her visit. An extraordinarily beautiful blonde woman laid out in a cherry-colored casket, wearing a white dress that resembled a wedding gown. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, and her hair curled up on top like that of a princess. John nearly fell to his knees while Ashley gasped in horror. Cindy, glancing repeatedly at her husband and the woman in the casket, stood there somewhat peeved, despite her shock. Not a sound penetrated the room and the air felt unusually thick. Around the casket was a circular silver gate which had intricate curves throughout—a remarkable sight to behold. The Morrisons’ feet were pinned to the floor and as ghastly as this was, none of them understood why they hadn’t already fled the room— the house for that matter!
“I’m sorry to ask this in front of your daughter, John, but do you recognize this woman?” Mira asked.
With tears flowing down his cheeks, he nodded. “Yes, I do. Is she…”
“Yes. She’s dead,” Mira told him.
He now understood why he couldn’t reach Mona that day and why she hadn’t returned his call.
“Ashley, is this the woman you’ve been seeing?” Mira asked her. “I know she’s never presented herself to you in this way, but do you recognize her?”
Ashley quickly nodded. “Yes. That’s her. She’s been coming in my room almost every night.”
“She wasn’t trying to scare you, honey, although the way she looked to you would’ve frightened anyone. She was trying to get a message across to you since you’re the innocent one here.”
Mira looked Cindy in the eye. “You know her too; don’t you, Mrs. Morrison?”
Cindy was silent.
“Tell them, Cindy, or I will.”
Mira waited for a few moments, but Cindy’s lips were sealed. She could see her chest heaving as every critical second went by.
“You killed her; didn’t you, Cindy?” Mira said.
All the blood appeared to drain out of John and Ashley’s faces.
Mira was just getting started. “You killed her out of jealousy. You went to her apartment, pretending to be a salesperson and once she allowed you inside, you held her up at gunpoint. You tied her hands, then you took her for a ride, the entire time accusing her of having an affair with your husband. And once you drove to that deserted spot, you made her get outside, you pushed her down on the dirt and instead of using the gun you’d pointed at her the entire time, you pulled out a knife from your jacket pocket. You didn’t want her to go quickly; you really wanted her to suffer. You bent over and stabbed the life right out of her. You threw the knife in the bushes, changed your blood-spattered clothes and tossed them in a dumpster a mile down the road. It rained cats and dogs that night, Cindy,” Mira emphasized. “You left her on the ground in the dirt and you went on with your life. You moved here to Mizpah a month later to hopefully bury the memories of what you’d done.”
John walked over to his wife; his face soaked with tears. “Is that true, Cindy? Did you do this?”
Her face was stoic and she was looking away.
“Tell me if you did this, dammit!”
Cindy finally looked at him. Her eyes were darker. “You think I didn’t know you were seeing her for eight months behind my back?!” she growled.
“I’m wrong for that, Cindy, but I had called it off with Mona and hadn’t spoken to her for weeks. I chose my family,” he said passionately. “In all that time I never looked back. I wanted to put it behind me and for us to move on with our lives.”
“Is that all, John?” Mira asked.
He gulped. “After our heated argument this morning, today was the first time since I closed that chapter that I felt I needed to speak to her again. You make it so hard for me to love you, Cindy!” The tears were falling again. “God knows I tried my hardest and that I still love you, in spite of everything. You didn’t have to do what you did. It was over.”
Cindy seemed unsure of how to react. “I gave you everything. Everything! The perfect daughter, the perfect wife, the perfect family! And all you did was turned around after I gave you all of that and spat in my face. I hate you, John. I really do. I don’t think I ever loved you.”
Ashley was stunned by her mother’s revelation.
“So, why did you marry me then?” John blurted. “Why didn’t you leave me the hell alone a long time ago?”
“Because you were the right guy—at least for my image,” she said. “You had everything going for you. You were handsome, smart, intelligent, landed a great job. No woman in her right mind would let you go once she had you in her claws.”
“Mom, how could you say such things?” Ashley cried.
Cindy’s eyes were fixated on John. “I hate you, John Morrison. I wish I’d killed both of you! Mona, or whatever her name is, deserved what she got.”
John shook his head in disgust and walked away to hold his daughter.
Suddenly, the room became frigidly cold and Mona sat straight up in her casket, but she didn’t look the same. Her hair was muddy and matted, one of her eyes was swollen and the other missing—just as Ashley had always seen her. Her clothing was soiled and ripped, and the smell of death surrounded her, annihilating the steel rail that had once encircled her casket.
Ashley screamed and held onto her father tightly. John was horrified by the gruesome sight of the woman he’d come to love.
Cindy was trembling with fear, but her lips still worked. “Get out of our lives, you whore! You’re dead! I killed you, remember?”
“Don’t!” Mira shouted at Cindy.
Mona abruptly turned around and stared at her killer, with rage consuming every fiber of her ghostly being. With supernatural force, she leapt out of the casket and landed directly in front of Cindy. Cindy found her feet literally stuck to the floor. She could not move an inch. The giant chandelier above them began to shake, as if being hastily loosened from its hinges. Mira sensed what was about to happen and if only for Ashley’s sake, knew she must step in to prevent it. She didn’t want the child having to live with the memory of her mother being impaled by a fallen chandelier.
Mira approached Mona. “Mona, you’ll have your justice and a proper burial. I know that’s all you want. You don’t want to exact revenge on this woman in front of her child. Ashley hasn’t done anything to you.”
The chandelier was shaking wildly. John and Ashley watched in horror.
“See…” Mira showed the woman the tiny tape recorder in her hand. “Her confession is all here and even if this doesn’t hold, I’ll go to court as a witness. Trust me, you will get your justice. And I will direct the Colonsboro police to your remains. I see the area and the name of the road in my mind’s eye. I promise you, you will be buried in that cherry casket you like, even if I have to pay for it myself.”
Mona’s expression softened and su
ddenly the twirling of the chandelier slowed down, then finally came to a halt. Slowly backing away from her killer, Mona then turned to John. There was sadness in her face and he could tell.
“I’m sorry, Mona,” he said. “This is all my fault. I’ll never forgive myself for what happened to you.”
She placed a shriveled finger on his lips and shook her head.
“She wants you to forgive yourself, John,” Mira told him. “Otherwise, she won’t be able to rest in peace—ever. That’s how much she loves you.”
John was tearing up again and so was Ashley. Though she didn’t approve of her father’s affair, Ashley admired the love between them—something she’d never sensed existed with her parents.
“Okay,” John said. “I’ll try my best.”
Mona seemed satisfied. She looked at them all once again, then slowly disintegrated into thin air.
Mira went over to Ashley and held her as well. “She’s not coming back. Okay?”
Ashley nodded and sobbed in her arms. John let go and was looking over at his wife whose face was still void of emotion.
He shook his head and walked over to the telephone. “I’m calling to report a murder,” he said to the person on the other line, moments later.
Everyone stood silently as he conveyed the details to the 911 dispatcher.
“The killer is my wife.”
* * *
Cindy Morrison was picked up that night by the local police. After John had made that call, she never spoke another word to anyone, including her daughter. Mira, John and Ashley watched as she was handcuffed and taken away.
Colonsboro police confirmed with authorities in Mizpah that there was a missing person’s case involving a Mona Kirkpatrick. She’d been reported missing from six weeks earlier.
After being transported back to Colonsboro to face first degree murder charges, upon the advice of her attorney, Cindy decided to take a plea deal–for purely selfish reasons. She wanted to avoid the death penalty. Based on her confession, Mona’s body was recovered from bushes near a desolate road called Willow’s End. The cool temperature had preserved the body to the extent it was clearly identifiable by her next of kin. The knife Cindy used to commit the murder was found in nearby bushes. Fate had it that way, as she’d never directed them to it. She refused any contact by her family. In her mind, they were dead just as her dream of having the perfect life now was. And just like Mona was.
The Cornelius Saga Series (All 15 Books): The Ultimate Adventure-packed Supernatural Thriller Collection Page 77
