Hell

by Tom Lewis

  Silvia gave her hand a squeeze. “You nervous?”

  Cassie nodded. “Kinda.”

  “We don’t have to do this. It’s your call.”

  Cassie shook her head. “No. It’s fine.”

  Seth frowned. “None of us is gonna be doing this if we don’t hurry up before Cass’s mom gets home.”

  Trish nodded and turned to the others. “Everyone, put the fingers on your left hand on the planchette.” She waited until they all did. “Now, whatever happens, make sure you don’t break the circle until we move the planchette to the word ‘goodbye.’”

  “Why? What happens if we do?” asked Cassie.

  “You leave the channel open. Then anything can come through.”

  Seth sneered. “I thought the whole reason we’re doing this is ’cause Cassie already let something through.”

  “Do you want to let more through?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then shut up, and just do it.” Trish looked at them all. “Do any of you guys have any questions before we start?”

  Seth did. “Yeah. How come we’re having to help Cass clean up her mess?”

  The girls rolled their eyes. Trish turned to Silvia and Cassie. “Do any normal people have any normal questions?” They shook their heads. “Then let’s get started. Everyone take a deep breath... hold it... now let it out slowly...”

  Trish waited as they did. She took a deep breath herself, and closed her eyes. “We’re gathered here tonight to speak to the entity that’s revealed itself to Cassie. If you’re here, spirit, speak to us...”

  “Yeah. Speak, dammit.” Seth said, never passing up a chance to be a dick. Trish shot him a frown, as did the others. “It’s not gonna work, unless we’re all serious. You think you can manage that?”

  “No problem. Here’s me being serious.” He put on a look that was supposed to be serious, but it looked more constipated than anything. Trish shook her head.

  “Just don’t say anything. Okay?”

  He mimed pulling a zipper across his mouth.

  “Good. Now stay that way.” Trish closed her eyes again and took another deep breath to center herself. “If you’re here, spirit, speak to us. Tell us what you want.” She hesitated a moment, then added: “We command it.”

  Outside, the wind howled, and nocturnal creatures watched from their dens. But nothing had arrived yet.

  Cassie and her friends had been at it for a while now. They still sat with their eyes closed and fingers on the planchette, but nothing had happened.

  “I don’t think it’s working,” Silvia finally said.

  Trish shook her head in frustration. “If there is a spirit that’s reached out to Cassie, speak to us now. She needs to know what you want. This we command.”

  This time she said it forcefully.

  And this time something heard.

  A violent crash on the window shattered the calm. They all jumped.

  “What the fuck?” Seth was on his feet, hurrying over to the window. Deep cracks edged through it where something had hit it.

  “What was it?” Silvia asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said, straining to see the grass below. “I don’t see anything.” He returned to the others, but a new atmosphere had settled on the room. It was something dynamic and energized, and something they all felt.

  “I think we’ve made contact. Everyone put your fingers back on the planchette,” Trish instructed, and they did. She closed her eyes again. “We know you’re here, spirit. Speak to us. Tell us what you want with Cassie.”

  Within the room, the air was calm, yet the candle flames waved... then snuffed out.

  Trish was the first to sense it — something subtle stirred in the air. She turned to her friends, and there was apprehension in her eyes. “He’s here.”

  And now the others felt it. Something was there with them. It seemed to be all around them, and each felt an inaudible hiss in their mind’s ear.

  The planchette slid.

  Everyone froze. “What the fuck?” Seth muttered.

  “Make sure you keep your fingers on the planchette,” Trish cautioned. “He wants to communicate.” She looked down at the letter framed in the small window on the planchette. It was on “D.” “D,” Trish said. “The first letter is D.”

  It began sliding again and stopped on the letter “E.”

  “E,” Trish noted. “D - E.”

  It slid again and stopped on the letter “A”.

  “A. D - E - A.”

  A scratching sound came from the wall behind Cassie. It was like claws dragged through wood. They all heard it, and followed it with their eyes as it circled the room.

  Then it was gone.

  “You guys, look.” Trish nodded to the board. The planchette’s window was centered on the letter “D.” It had moved on its own while they were focused on the scratching.

  “D,” Trish muttered. It took a second, and then she realized. “Dead. It wants you dead.”

  Cassie stared in horror. “You guys, that’s not funny. Did one of you do that?”

  They all shook their heads, and it was obvious from their scared looks that they hadn’t. As she searched their faces, her eyes drifted past the window...

  The Face was there. It was the same ghoulish one she had seen in the bus window.

  Cassie only caught it briefly before it was gone. She screamed and fell backward from the board.

  “Cass?” said Trish. “Are you okay?”

  Cassie shook her head. “There was something in the window watching us.”

  They all turned to the window, but it was now empty.

  “I don’t see anything,” said Silvia.

  “No. It disappears when you look at it directly.”

  “What’s it look like?” asked Silvia.

  “Evil,” said Cassie.

  “You wanna vague that up a little more?” said Seth.

  “That’s what it looks like,” said Cassie, still freaked out of her mind. “Think about the scariest things you could ever see, and put that in a face, and then times it by a million.”

  Everyone scooted back from the window. “And you saw it outside?” asked Silvia.

  Cassie nodded.

  Seth climbed to his feet. “Well, Cass, it’s been real, but I’m outta here.” He hurried out the door.

  “I’m sorry, Cass,” said Silvia, “but I gotta go too.” She hurried out the door after Seth.

  Cassie turned to Trish, who was packing up the board. “What do we do?”

  Trish shook her head. “Nothing. There’s nothing we can do.”

  “Wait,” said Cassie, as she followed Trish down the stairs and across the living room to the front door. Seth and Silvia were already gone. “Don’t we need to close the channel?”

  Trish stopped at the door and shook her head. “We didn’t open the channel. It was already open before we started.”

  “How could it be open?”

  “Because it’s you, Cass. You’re the channel. It came in through you.”

  “How?”

  “It followed you back from death.”

  Cassie’s knees felt like Jell-O.

  “There’s gotta be a way to stop it.”

  Trish shook her head. “There isn’t, Cass. I wish I could help, but I can’t. I’ve never even heard of anything like this happening before.” She looked around nervously, then grabbed Cassie in a quick hug.

  “I gotta go, Cass. I’m sorry.” She raced off.

  Cassie slammed the door shut and turned back to the dark, empty house. After everything upstairs, it now felt... still...

  It felt too still...

  All at once it unleashed. Furniture shook and toppled over. Paintings fell from walls. Books flew from the bookcase shelves...

  Then the scratching sound came from the wall behind her and traveled through the walls and ceiling.

  Cassie backed toward the door. She reached behind her and grabbed the doorknob.

  Everything st
opped, and the house was again plunged into silence. But it was a wreck.

  Cassie flung the door open and raced out onto the gravel drive. Her mom’s headlights were pulling up. Cassie raced over to her car screaming and crying hysterically.

  And she couldn’t stop screaming.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Dr. Switzer

  “I already told you guys,” Cassie groaned in frustration, “it wasn’t me that did it. It was that thing.” She sat on the couch in the office of Dr. Benjamin Switzer, MD, who sat across the small office behind his studious desk. She felt like she’d been there for hours rehashing the same story while this guy observed her like some lab rat but never listened. She’d already answered his questions about the night of the séance a million times, yet he kept asking the same questions over and over.

  She’d made the mistake of telling her mom the truth about what happened that night — about it being a spirit that had torn through their living room — and it had landed an appointment with this shrink.

  So much for the truth. She should have just said it was burglars or a drug gang.

  Switzer’s office was at the Hillview Mental Hospital, the oldest freestanding mental health institution in the state. Built in the early half of the twentieth century, it stood isolated in the wooded foothills at the end of a long winding drive. Its walls were built of red brick and towered three stories in height. Barred windows looked down on a broad lawn, surrounded by a perimeter wall. Clusters of old oak trees were spread across the lawn and partially concealed the building’s facade from the drive.

  In Cassie’s words, the place looked haunted.

  The doctor was Alison’s idea, and she had insisted on Cassie meeting with him after she had returned from work to find their home in shambles and Cassie blaming it on a ghost.

  Switzer was in his late sixties and had developed a considerable renown for working with disturbed and troubled youth. That description fit Cassie to a T.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you think this spirit wants, Cassie,” Switzer proposed. He had a gentle, if not slightly arrogant manner, but Cassie was tiring quickly of neither him nor her mom believing her; even if her story was admittedly difficult to believe.

  “That’s easy,” she said, continuing to fidget with her backpack. “It wants me to kill myself.”

  Instantly, alarm bells went off in Switzer’s head. Whatever lackadaisical air he had before was gone, and he scooted up in his chair. His poker face was also gone.

  Cassie watched all of this with a bit of amusement. “That got your attention.”

  “Yes. Very much so,” Switzer admitted with a nod.

  “But you still think I’m full of shit about the whole ghost thing. You’re just worried that crazy Cassie’s gonna go off herself, and then you’re kinda screwed ’cause you were treating me.”

  He was speechless for a moment. He sat back in his chair and adjusted his glasses.

  “Is that really how you think I feel about you, Cassie?” He sounded wounded. “Or any of my patients? That I’m only concerned about protecting my reputation?”

  “Are you?” she asked.

  “No. In fact, it’s quite the contrary. Most of my peers retired long ago, but I’ve continued to practice for the simple reason that my greatest reward in life comes from seeing my patients recover from their difficulties.”

  Cassie watched him as he said this, and for the first time in the session, she saw what she felt was honesty. She decided to soften. Maybe this guy really did mean well.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “That was uncool. I should probably warn you that I can be a bit of a bitch at times. I’m trying not to be, but it still comes out.”

  He smiled and nodded his acceptance. “Understood. And I offer my own apology if I appeared inattentive.”

  “Apology accepted. So. Question for you. Do you have many patients seeing ghosts?”

  He nodded. “I have, over the years. Quite a few.”

  “Were you able to help them?”

  “I believe so. Yes.”

  “Do you believe in ghosts?”

  He hesitated, probably a little too long, before finally shaking his head. “Honestly, Cassie, I don’t know. I’ve heard compelling arguments for both sides.”

  “What if I told you there’s other people seeing this thing? Would that be compelling?” She dug through her backpack and pulled out a sheet of paper. She walked over to his desk and set it in front of him. “I got this off the Internet.” The paper was a printout of the drawing of the Shadow from Kyle Martin’s website.

  She sat down in a chair opposite him and watched his expression as he studied the drawing. She was surprised to see him actually take an interest. He stirred a bit and even took a second look at it before setting it down. Something about it had clearly unsettled him.

  “This is what you’ve been seeing?” he finally asked, looking up from the image.

  Cassie nodded. “And what other people have been seeing.” She made sure to emphasize this point.

  Switzer took one more glance at the image, then slid the paper aside. “Cassie, I’m certain that these visions are quite terrifying, but my immediate concern is the effect they’re having on you. Why you think this spirit wants you to kill yourself.”

  Cassie shook her head. Had this guy even been listening? She leaned forward and fixed her eyes on his so there could be no misunderstanding what she was about to say. “Because that’s what it does. The website where I found that picture, that guy has a list of people from all over who’ve seen this thing. And they’re all dead.”

  ****

  Alison anxiously paced the lobby at the Hillview Hospital. She was regretting the fight she had with Cassie that morning, but her daughter clearly needed help. And this crazy story about a ghost trashing their house...

  But this is what moms are supposed to do, right? They’re supposed to make the hard decisions, even if they aren’t popular with their children. Cassie had to understand she was only trying to help her. Right?

  She checked her watch for the tenth time and was frustrated to see it was only twelve minutes since the last time she’d checked. They’d been here two hours now. What was going on in there?

  Shit. Okay, deep breath, Alison.

  It was a short while later that Switzer strolled in from the long hallway that ran behind the check-in window. Alison hurried over to meet him.

  “So, how is she? Did you find out what’s wrong with her?” Her mind was going at a million miles per second.

  “Why don’t we take a seat over there,” Switzer calmly pointed to the chairs across the lobby. Alison followed him over, and they sat down. She took a deep breath.

  “First of all,” Switzer began, “I’m reasonably certain that Cassie is not lying when she says a ghost was responsible for the damage to your house.”

  Alison did a double-take. “Wait. You’re not saying there really is a ghost, are you?”

  Switzer shook his head. “No. What I am saying is that Cassie believes there is a ghost, and it’s causing her considerable frustration that everyone dismisses her as a liar.”

  “Okay... so what am I supposed to say?”

  “Simply hear her out. It’s important to remember that this ghost is very real to Cassie, and you need to be open to hearing what she has to say.”

  Alison thought about this and nodded. “Okay. Yeah. I can do that.”

  “Good. Because it’s critical that Cassie has someone she can talk to. And I’ll address that point in a moment.”

  “So, what is it? Is she hallucinating?”

  “Perhaps. I’ve reviewed her records from Saint John’s Hospital, and they do indicate that she sustained some mild trauma to her brain from her accident. It’s possible that something like that could trigger psychotic breaks like we seem to be seeing.”

  “Psychotic?”

  “These hallucinations.”

  “Oh,” Alison nodded, clearly relieved her daughter wasn’t an act
ual psycho. “So, is this something that can be treated?”

  “There may not be a need to physically intervene. If it’s simply a swelling of the brain, as her physician at the hospital seemed to think, then these hallucinations will go away with time as the swelling subsides.”

  This again came as a relief to Alison. But then Switzer’s appearance took on a more dire tone.

  “Now, while these hallucinations are certainly of concern, my more immediate concern is Cassie’s belief that this ghost wants her to kill herself.”

  “Wait. What?” Alison’s eyes were instantly wide with shock.

  “I take it you weren’t aware of this.”

  “No.” Alison shook her head. “Is that what she told you?”

  He nodded. “I’m sure you can appreciate that this is considerably more urgent.”

  “Yeah,” Alison nodded. “Wow. I had no idea.”

  “No. No, I was quite alarmed when she said it.”

  He took a moment to adjust his glasses. “My hunch, were I to take a guess after only having had our first session, is that Cassie is suffering from a rather extreme form of survivor’s guilt and that it’s triggering these suicidal idealizations. And it’s quite possible, it may also be contributing to these hallucinations.”

  “But why would Cassie have survivor’s guilt?”

  “It could be any number of reasons. Foremost would be the death of the young child in the other car.”

  “But Cassie wasn’t driving.”

  “Clearly Cassie doesn’t draw the same distinction as you do. In her mind, she was an active participant in the child’s death, and perhaps she sees this ghost as some form of retribution for her actions.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yes. You can be there for her, in a very non-judgmental way. She’s feeling very alone and isolated right now, so it’s important that she has you she can openly confide in, without fear of ridicule or reprisal.”

  Alison’s head sank. She could almost hit herself for the way she’d acted the past few days after Cassie mentioned the ghost.

  “So, I need to be the exact opposite of the way I’ve been acting.”

  Switzer gave her a sympathetic nod. “I don’t expect it to always be easy. But it’s important that you try. And that Cassie sees you making the effort. I believe that will go a long way toward rebuilding her trust.”