“Something,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“You asked if I’m travelling to Newport for work or something. I answered that it’s the latter.”
Bobby was quickly waking up. “Yeah. Very funny, Mira!”
She chuckled. “It has to do with some research I’ve done. Just kind of putting some pieces together, you know?”
“Is it that same research you mentioned to me a while back about an urban legend or something relating to that area?”
“Uh huh.”
“Okay, I see. Well, just be careful, okay? Don’t stop at any deserted-looking rest stops and make sure to keep the car doors locked during the drive. You can never be too careful.”
“I know. Thanks.”
“I love you,” he said.
“Love you too. See you when I get back.”
* * *
Mira pulled off the road a few times to stretch her legs and study the map, and only refueled the car once. At exactly 1:32, she turned on to Twindle Street and then made a right a short distance down into a yard with a long, narrow, gravel driveway. Immediately, something about the entire property stood out to her. She stopped the car suddenly, near the edge of the driveway, and stepped out. Standing next to the car, she quietly observed what stood before her.
“It… looks like the exact same house, yard… everything as the one in Mizpah,” she uttered softly. “The Sylvesters’ house.”
For a few moments, she was sure her eyes were playing tricks on her. The architectural style of the house, size, position it sat in on the property; the long, narrow, gravel driveway. Everything looked the same.
“This is so strange.”
She finally got back into her car and continued down the driveway, stopping a few feet in front of the porch. That’s when she noticed a man in the yard, weeding. He wore a straw hat, a green, sleeveless shirt and a pair of gray short pants. He immediately stood up as she exited the car and walked over to meet her.
That’s when she also noticed the black shadow figures, dozens - possibly hundreds of them weaving in and out of the trees, up and over the house and back down again, and through and through.
“May I help you?” the man asked.
Finally, looking his way again, Mira said, “Hi. Do you live here?”
He grinned. “No one lives here, Miss. This place hasn’t been lived in for at least twenty years or so.”
His revelation had taken her by surprise.
“Really?” She grimaced.
“I’m just the care-taker. Been so for about fifteen years now. Name’s Lou.”
“I’m Mira Cullen.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Cullen. These old knees ain’t as good as they used to be.” He grinned again. “But they manage to keep the weeds down.”
“I know what you mean.” Mira smiled.
“You from here or just visiting?”
“Just visiting.”
“Looking for someone in particular or you just wanted to see for yourself what all the ruckus is about?”
“What do you mean?” Mira was confused.
“I mean the ruckus about this house — the legend concerning the witch who used to live here and how she made the town pay for breaking her neck.”
Mira thought for a moment. She saw an opportunity. “I was wondering if I could take a look inside for a minute.”
The expression on Lou’s face dropped.
“Look inside? You want to go in there?”
She nodded.
“Are you serious?”
“I am.”
He appeared to be gathering his thoughts that had suddenly scattered moments earlier.
“You won’t happen to have a key, would you?” she asked. “I’m more than willing to offer you a few dollars in return for the kind favor.”
He studied her for a moment.
“Why you wanna go in there?”
“I just would like to see what all the fuss is about; that’s all. I’m not so sure that so-called legend is true. News about it has traveled far and wide.”
“You don’t need no key,” he replied.
“Sorry?”
“No one in their right mind ever enters that house after all that’s happened in there. Even homeless people and drug addicts avoid it like a plague. The owner hasn’t bothered to lock it in years. Feel free to go in if you dare. I’ll be right here when you come out. Hopefully, you’ll be intact and the curse won’t get you. ‘Nother thing you have to think about too if you venture inside is whether the curse will follow you home or not. Sensible people don’t take the chance. Know what I mean?”
“Thanks for the warning.” Mira reached into her pocket and handed him a twenty dollar bill, which he quickly snatched and shoved into his pocket.
As she made her way to the porch, he watched her closely.
She stopped when she thought of something. “By the way… what happened in here?”
“Murders. I heard every single person that moved in was brutally murdered — single parents, entire families. Believe me, there’s nothing good about this house,” he replied.
As he spoke about the murders, images of all the terrified faces she’d recently seen in her mind’s eye and ear-piercing screams flooded her brain.
She continued on and mounted the porch. Lou made the sign of the cross after she opened the door and stepped over the threshold.
The exterior of the house was in much better condition than the interior, likely due to the fact that the upkeep of the property was primarily focused on the outside. The old furniture inside were covered with dust. A mid-size Oriental rug was in the center of the living room floor and Mira immediately got the impression that when the house was inhabited, it was a happy, cozy dwelling for those who had moved in. She moved slowly along. The layout was exactly the same as she’d seen it in the Sylvesters’ home in Mizpah. The odds of that happening bewildered her. However, she considered the possibilities.
The silence inside was deafening— even her steps seemed to have no sound of their own. She reached the end of the hallway and entered the first bedroom. The bureau and bed were situated in the same spots as in the house back home. Every piece of furniture from the living room onward, as far as she could recall, in Bryant and Lucille’s house, matched what she was seeing there.
“Now this is odd,” she muttered as she swept a trail of dust from the bureau with her finger.
Now, it was time to check the final bedroom — the one on the eastern side of the house, just across the hallway. She remembered the stacks of boxes which crammed the matching room from the other house, but this bedroom was completely empty. Nothing at all was inside of it other than the flat, dark-blue rug which covered the entire floor. At the far end of the wall was a small closet space. Mira walked over to it and looked inside.
“My God!” She gasped, on looking to her right.
It was another portal, only smaller in size than the one she’d seen at the Sylvesters’ house. The pitch black, oval gateway surrounded by multi-colored rays seemed to bubble and vibrate in its place. She backed away quickly, fearing that by some weird chance, she might be swept in and taken somewhere she’d rather not be.
As she looked up, she realized that the shadow figures were all over the room now and just like in the other house, some were sliding in and out of the portal. Suddenly, the room was filled not just with the dark shadows, but with many men, women and children. Extremely sullen faces; some weeping and wailing, and others emitting blood-curdling screams. She felt like they were closing in on her as the shadow figures darted around even faster and faster now. Her head was spinning and somehow, she knew she had to get out of there. She made her way through the crowd as they, for the first time, beckoned her — pulling and tugging at her as she passed through.
“Please help us,” a little girl with remarkably sad eyes and long, black pigtails said to her in the doorway. As the girl turned slightly to the left, Mira saw the dent of a large blow
to the left side of her head. Startled, she proceeded out of the room. Bleeding souls were lined off along both sides of the hallway and some were in the living room. She used the wall as support as she stumbled toward the front door. Light-headed or not, she was determined to get the hell out of there.
She overwhelmingly felt that toxicity itself had become ingrained in the house and each person who chose to inhabit it became its victim. The pungent air of brutality was strong as scenes of murder and mayhem flashed through her mind with every step she took. The frightening and saddening realization she encountered was that there was no otherworldly force that literally ended the life of any of the lost souls trapped inside the invisible fibers of that house; it was those once vibrant human beings who had done it to one another. Weakened in morality by the mere influence of unseen entities who rejoiced in their confusion and misery. She knew the culprits were the shadow figures – the messengers and deliverers of fear, worry, turmoil, heartache, torture and ultimately an existence without the use of air to breathe or a beating heart.
She finally made it outside the front door and nearly collapsed on the porch. Lou, standing nearby, dropped his rake and rushed over to her, helping her off the porch and over to her car. Outside now, the lightheadedness was gradually leaving her.
“You all right, Miss?” he asked, worriedly. “I knew you shouldn’t have gone inside that hell hole.”
“I’m all right.” Mira was leaning against the hood of the car. “You’re right. That’s some house.”
“It’s the devil’s house; that’s what it is. I been taking care of this property every Sunday and Monday for fifteen years and never set foot inside. The rumors about this place was enough to keep me right here outside where it’s much safer. Sure, I heard and felt some things out here, and took off down the street more than once, but I come back and everything is nice and quiet again. The problem is not outside; it’s inside.”
Mira sat inside the car and reached for the bottle of water in the beverage holder. After taking a long gulp, she said: “Lou, would you happen to have a contact for the owner of this property?”
“Sure, I do! Think I’d be working here if I didn’t?”
Mira smiled.
“You’d have to go to a town called Mizpah to find her though – if you’d ever wanna see her in person.”
“She doesn’t live here in Newport?”
“Nah. Mizpah’s her hometown. She wires my money from there every month. I have a number you can reach her by though.”
Mira opened the glove compartment and pulled out a notebook and a pen. She handed them to Lou.
“Please jot down her name and contacts here,” she said.
“Uh, I’m afraid I can’t do that. Never learned to read and write, you see?”
“Oh, no problem. Just tell me and I’ll write it all down.”
He gave her the contact information and address for Latina Cosgrove. Mira thanked him and when she was sure all the dizziness had left her, she backed out of the yard and drove away.
As she was leaving, Lou made the sign of the cross again. “Nice lady. Sure hope nothing will follow her home,” he said, grimly.
11
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Mira decided to make a stop at a local convenience store before heading back home. She needed to replenish the car with a few light snacks.
“Hello, dear. How are you today?” a little old lady asked her at the check-out counter.
“I’m fine, ma’am. How are you?” She handed her the pack of chips, a Nutty Buddy and a liter-sized Sprite.
“Doing just fine. Where are you from, if you don’t mind my asking? Pretty much, everyone knows everyone around here.” She grinned.
“I’m from a town called Mizpah.”
“Mizpah, you say?” the lady’s facial expression suddenly altered to a more concerned one. She started fiddling around with the cash register as if she was trying to work it for the first time.
“Is there something wrong?” Mira asked her.
“No. Nothing at all. The total is $5.43; includes tax.”
She now appeared to be a bit angry and no longer the sweet, old lady Mira thought she was.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Mira pressed.
The lady handed her the grocery bag and her change. “I’ll be much better when you get the hell outta here. Nothing good comes outta Mizpah! See how one of you came here and destroyed this good, decent town? My mother told me stories about how one of you Mizpah people found your way here; polluted this place and put a curse on it where people fell ill to unheard of diseases; died mysterious deaths and there was a time where forty years long, the economy suffered. Took us a good, long time to catch ourselves.” She looked Mira dead set in the eyes. “So, the quicker you get outta this store and outta this town, the better!”
Mira backed away and quickly left the store. She hurried to her car, locked all the doors as she remembered Bobby advising her to do, then sped off down the street.
“Whew!” She wiped the pebbles of sweat from her forehead as she drove. She had a sneaky suspicion that many in Newport felt the same way the old lady did. In any event, she wasn’t about to take a chance stopping anywhere else in that town.
A half hour later, she heard the wobbling sound of a flat tire. It felt like it might be the front one on the left. She slowed down and pulled off the road, dreading the thought of someone stopping by to offer her assistance. Thankfully, she had a spare tire, but had never changed one before. How she wished in that moment, she had asked Bobby to accompany her to Newport!
She got out of the car and walked over to the front. She was right. The front left tire was completely flat. It had picked up a huge nail.
Standing there with arms folded, she wondered if she should attempt to change it herself. After all, she’d watched her father change tires before when she was a little girl. Everything she needed to do the job was right there in the trunk. She shook her head, then went over to the back and popped the trunk.
Just then, a pickup truck pulled up behind her and two Hill Billy-looking guys stepped out.
“Need some help there, little lady?” the driver asked.
Mira felt like she was between a rock and a hard place. These guys looked tough and as the old lady said, everyone in that town knew each other. They’d know right away she was an outsider. And suppose the lady had already started spreading the word about her being there? If those guys knew or even suspected she was from Mizpah, would she ever make it back home to her family?
“No, I’m fine,” Mira soon replied.
“You don’t seem fine to me from the looks of that tire,” the other guy commented.
“That’s no job for a lady,” the first guy said. “We’d be glad to help. Got a spare?”
Mira’s heart was beating faster. She was unsure of what to do.
The other guy went and checked the trunk. “Everything’s here,” he said, pulling out the spare tire, a jack and the wrench. “Relax, sweet lady. Have no fear. Terry and Rodney are here.” He smiled.
She nervously smiled back. “Thanks.”
Rodney, the driver, changed the tire in about fifteen minutes and placed the damaged one into the car trunk. Terry put back the tools.
“Well, all done now.” Rodney brushed his hands together. “You’re good to go.”
“Thanks so much, gentlemen,” Mira replied. “I really appreciate all your help.”
“Anytime,” Rodney said. Terry nodded slowly.
Mira quickly got behind the wheel of the car again. She switched on the engine and put the gear in ‘drive’.
“Drive safely!” Terry shouted behind her as she pulled off.
Relieved that the men didn’t question or attack her, she couldn’t wait to get out of Newport and back home. The entire drive, she routinely checked her rear-view mirror to see if anyone was following her. She even feared someone might pull up alongside her and force her off the road or shoot her as she drove.
12
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By ten o’clock that night, Mira was back home. Rosie was fast asleep when she arrived, but she went into her bedroom, pulled the covers up to Rosie’s chest and gave her a light kiss on the forehead. She’d thought about her while in Newport and could not imagine never returning to her.
She ran a warm bubble bath and soaked in the tub for about twenty minutes before retiring to bed.
The next day…
Mira barely slept the night before as scenes from the house in Newport crowded her thoughts. She felt she must go back to the Sylvesters’ house as something all night was pulling her there.
After dropping Rosie off to school, she headed straight for the Sylvesters’ residence. Her heart was heavy and stomach slightly queasy the entire time she drove. Not understanding the basis for the uneasiness she felt, she was certain it would only be relieved once she arrived there. It was like a dam on the verge of breaking.
Pulling into the yard, she was shocked to see both Bryant and Lucille’s cars parked in the driveway.
“They’re supposed to be at the hotel. What’re they doing here?” She grimaced, hastily releasing herself from the confines of her seat belt.
She exited the vehicle and proceeded up the walkway to the front door.
On the first knock, the door creaked open.
“Bryant! Lucille!” she called as she entered the house, but there was no response. Standing in the living room, she called again.
And again — nothing.
Sensing that something wasn’t quite adding up with their cars parked right outside and their front door left unlocked, Mira walked slowly down the hallway. She soon noticed something on the left inside the bathroom. It was Lucille. She was lying on the floor, facedown, in a pool of blood. Splashes of blood covered tiled walls to the left and right of the small space.
The Cornelius Saga Series Box Set 2 Page 11