The Haunting at Morgan's Rock

by M. L. Bullock

  Oh no! This can’t be happening! Not now!

  Struggling to calm my breathing, I focused on taking in breaths and letting them out evenly, just as Dr. Collier suggested. No, Joanna. You never trusted him. Remember? And of course, the controlled breathing didn’t work at all. The shaking continued, and now the dank room smelled different. It smelled acrid; it had a rank smell, like old blood. Was I bleeding? Had I hurt myself? My hands were shaking now too, and I fell back on the stone as my whole body clattered and thrashed.

  “I am Megan Pressfield!” My mind screamed the truth, but the shaking did not subside. Joanna’s malady struck me and struck me hard. No, please. Not now. What was that? A mist? A fog? Could that be the dragon’s breath rolling into this very room? That would mean there was another opening, another way out. But even as my confused mind tried to piece things together, I saw a man emerge from the fog. I fell back on the stone slab again, and the fog twisted until I could clearly see what I dreaded.

  My Paden floated above me. He was talking, but I couldn’t hear him. My sorrow rose as I realized in my shuddering mind that I had missed the window, that the timeline was all wrong. I had come at the wrong time, too late to try and save the man I loved.

  Tears streamed down from my staring eyes as my body convulsed and did its own will.

  Paden…I’m so sorry.

  I gurgled, and my hand flew to my throat. Why did I feel like I was choking?

  Joanna, leave here. Leave here now! Try, Jo! Try!

  Yes, he would know me as Joanna, not Megan. Paden shimmered above me and reached for me; the lights behind him faded slightly. I smiled at him, or at least tried to. He had such a beautiful face, his hair blond and shaggy…yes, I loved this man. I tried to plead for help, and he was talking to me. But now I couldn’t see him fully. He faded before my eyes like he wasn’t real at all. Oh, I’m so confused, and my body has betrayed me. My entire body shook as if I were a fish out of water. I fixed my eyes on a place beyond this current reality, on the place where Paden dwelled. I could remember him. I would always remember him.

  Oh, I loved you so much. Sweat broke out all over my body, and my face and hair were drenched. I always loved you, Paden. I should have told you so when I had the chance. We should have left sooner.

  I opened my eyes again and found that I was in a man’s arms now. He wasn’t looking at me, though. His hood was covering most of his face. Mr. Lee? The man who works at the stables? Even though my eyes were half-open and I was unsure of my surroundings, I knew it was important to keep quiet. I had to remain as still as a mouse.

  Paden whispered in my ear. Still as a mouse, Jo. Don’t move!

  I gasped, and my body shuddered. Mr. Lee knew I was awake—he knew I was coming out of my seizure. But why should I worry? Mr. Lee wouldn’t harm Joanna…

  Suddenly, Mr. Lee’s hand was clamped over my mouth and nose so tightly that I thought perhaps he would smother me. My eyes flew wide open then. I couldn’t breathe, but I was too weak to fight him in any way.

  “Move her this way—higher on the stone, Lee. You’ve sent the rest of the staff away for the day, correct?”

  “Yes, I’ve done as you asked.” His voice sounded strained but excited. How was this possible? Had Mr. Lee known that Vivian was alive all this time?

  “I am very pleased, Lee. No one will discover us—it must be this way a little longer. Just a little longer. You hear that, Joanna? No one will hear you scream. There can be no delay. My guides insist we finish before nightfall.”

  Vivian!

  Yes, I could see her perfectly. She was not dead at all, not like poor Paden. Somehow, some way she had survived the horrible car crash that killed Dan, although I could see even in the dim torchlight of this dusty room that her beauty was permanently marred by a long scar down the side of her face. I wondered how that happened. Was it from the crash? How could Vivian have hidden from Joanna for so long?

  This must be a dream! A nightmare! Yes, this must be a nightmare!

  But then Vivian was leaning over me. A small silver knife was in her pale, bony hand. Behind her hovered Mr. Lee. He gave me a cold smile with no kindness in his eyes. Where had his kindness toward Joanna gone? Nothing was there, nothing but hatred.

  Vivian’s expression told me all I needed to know. She hated Joanna, and they both thought her a sickly creature. Unless I could figure out a way to save us, Joanna and I would both be dead. I imagined that Vivian would do the killing. Mr. Lee didn’t strike me as having the courage. Maybe I could convince him to help me. I tried to plead with him using my eyes, but he only sneered. Vivian was close now, and she had that knife.

  He stepped back as Vivian sliced at my wrist. The pain shot through me, but I could barely move, much less scream or fight. My body was too weak from the seizure, too weak to obey my addled brain. I tried again to force my arms and legs to move, but there was nothing to be done but wait. Vivian sliced deeper, and I moaned.

  “I know you feel that, Joanna. And you will feel so much more. I promise you it will all be worth it, at least for me. This is payment for all that I endured for your mother, your dear sainted mother. You owe me a cut for a cut, Joanna. Now be still and this will all be over soon, but not too soon.”

  Tears flooded down my face; I couldn’t move or fight yet. I heard Joanna scream in my head. Here we were, the two of us together, both bound to this body and neither of us able to help the other. Only a few more seconds, I told both Joanna and myself, but the pain screamed louder. I would have to endure it. I would have to! But the terror that rose up within me threatened to gag me, to smother me, to kill me. Just when I thought the pain was beyond bearable, Vivian stopped and smiled down at me. She was so much thinner now. All her beauty had been stolen; I saw only savageness in those wild Persian eyes. Even her lovely accent sounded hard.

  And she cut me again, along my neck now. Would she slice me from ear to ear? As painful as this was, I couldn’t imagine enduring much more. Then she was gone, and I sobbed; I hated that I made any sound at all, but I could not avoid it. Vivian reappeared with a small cup, ready to catch my blood. She pinched at the cut on my neck and forced the blood to flow more freely.

  “Why?” I managed to ask as I closed my eyes and focused on clenching my hands. I could hear a sound, like a clattering of wood. Was someone coming? Please let someone come! Help me! Mr. Lee muttered something, and I could hear his footsteps on the wooden floor. He was leaving, clearly to go investigate the sound.

  I could whimper now. In just another minute, I would be able to scream. But I had to remain as still as possible now. I just needed a moment to get stronger. I couldn’t let them know that I could move yet or else all hope would be lost.

  Oh, Paden! Help me!

  I saw the lights again, the blue and white lights. They were weak now, like me, but we would gain our strength. Yes, he was here! I could see him, but so could Vivian. She paused from her painful work and stood up straight.

  Only a few more minutes until I make my move. I will fight with every fiber of my being. I will fight with every breath. Until I have none left.

  Help me, Paden. Help Joanna.

  Chapter Twenty

  Another clatter of wood surprised Vivian; the sound appeared to come from behind her. She spun around and her tiny goblet clattered to the ground, and I imagined the splattering of blood that accompanied it. Vivian hissed at someone, a figure; I could see him in the shadows beyond the torch that sputtered evilly in the far wall.

  My neck hurt so badly. I had the sensation that the blood still flowed, but I didn’t move too much so I wouldn’t startle her. I had to wait for the right moment. I would make my move in that moment! Like a heroine in one of Joanna’s movies, I would escape! The sensation of pins and needles crept up from my feet and legs. Yes, it was in my hands now. I was getting back sensation quickly. I wiggled my fingers as unnoticeably as I could, not that Vivian was watching me. She was focused on whatever that sound had been and on whatever phantom hove
red in the corner. Truly, it was like the room was alive with the sounds now. Wood clattering, the sound of swords crossing, whispers, hateful whispers—but strangely enough, I perceived that they weren’t against Joanna or me specifically. It was so strange. Were these elusive echoes a warning that another seizure would strike me soon? I couldn’t say. I hoped and prayed it wouldn’t.

  I wiggled my fingers again and felt something, something cold and metallic. I gripped it and hid it under my hand. What could it be? Vivian’s attention was kept by the invisible; she stared into the shadowy corner unmoving until Mr. Lee returned.

  “There is no one there, and now look, she’s awake. What do we do now?” Mr. Lee whined at his mistress. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes. Perhaps he regretted doing this to Joanna after all.

  Paden? Are you with me? How will I get free from these two?

  As the seizure had lifted, I could no longer see the blue and white lights, the lights that had accompanied Paden earlier. But I could hear his voice in my ear. It was sad, sorrowful yet comforting. Remember what I told you. You know what the secret is, Jo. You know. Remember. It’s in your blood!

  I focused on gaining some control over some part of my body, a finger, a toe, but nothing worked. No mental focus could break me out from this nightmare! But I’m not Jo! I’m Megan! Megan Pressfield, and I love you, Paden!

  Paden’s advice didn’t help me at all. I couldn’t imagine what he was talking about. Suddenly Mr. Lee was standing over me, the torch in his hand. I could smell the gasoline and the scorching wood. Would he burn me now? I didn’t plead with him, and I wouldn’t beg him. It would do me no good, after all.

  “Can we get this over with? It must be done before morning; the servants will return soon. But not soon enough to help you, Joanna,” he said sadistically.

  Stay calm, Joanna. You’re getting stronger every second. Don’t reveal anything.

  I smothered a gasp of surprise. This wasn’t Paden’s voice now, nor was it my own. This was Joanna’s father. The tears fell again, but not because I was afraid to die. They fell because he was present and loved Joanna enough to return to her side at her hour of greatest need. And no matter what, whether she lived or died, he would always be with her. He’d been near her all the time. Deep grief struck me knowing that of the two of us, Joanna was loved far more than I was. I quieted as she responded to him. I still had no idea whether she knew I was here. Maybe this was all some horrible dream?

  Yes, Father, but don’t leave me. Not now.

  I clutched the metal object in my hand a little tighter. My legs were beginning to shake again but not from a seizure—this was fear. Pure fear.

  I spoke to Joanna now as loudly as I could. That’s it! Think, Joanna. Of the two of them, Mr. Lee is the one you should worry about. He wrangles horses every day, so he’s strong. I screamed the message in my mind. Then I realized what was in my hand. I could see Vivian looking for it now—her little knife. I had it! I wasn’t quite sure how to use it, but just knowing that I had my fingers wrapped around it gave me hope. I had to stop Lee. I wasn’t sure I could escape Vivian, but she was thin and frail whereas Lee was the picture of health. He slid the torch in the sconce on the wall again and returned to my side. He waited on the right and scolded Vivian again for not completing her task.

  “No more delays, Vivian. We had a deal. You get the blood, and I get my reward. Now get on with it.”

  Vivian was peering into the dark and whispering her spells and incantations. Sadly, they must have had an effect on the dead who’d gathered to witness the atrocity, those who had come to help us, for I could no longer hear their voices. I didn’t think Joanna could either; she cried out to them in despair.

  Vivian would return in a minute, and it would be too late. Lee leaned over me leering stupidly. I could see what his intentions were. I wanted to scream, not in fear but in anger. More quickly than I could have reckoned, I sat up from the stone altar and in one fell swoop shoved the blade into Lee’s neck. His dark eyes widened in surprise and his mouth opened but no words came out, nothing but a strange wet sound, and then he fell to the ground.

  Vivian spun around to see me falling off the altar. I was on top of Lee, tugging at the knife. It didn’t want to come out, but I was desperate. So desperate! My hand was on the handle, but I wasn’t alone! Joanna was here. She was desperate to be free too!

  Lee’s mouth continued to work, but I would not relent. I finally got the knife from his neck, and the blood began to savagely spurt all over me and all over the floor around him. In seconds, Lee went still, pale and still and dead.

  Vivian walked over to me, but she did not light on me as I had supposed she would. She did not scream or cry or lament Lee’s death. She obviously did not care for him; he had been but a means to her end.

  I rose to my feet, the knife in my hand, and faced her. Strangely enough, she smiled at me. She smiled as if she knew something I did not, and that surprised me. Yes, it was as if she’d seen this coming and welcomed it. And when she spoke, I was surprised again.

  “So it’s come to this, has it? You’ve risen up to become the blood master, and yet you have no idea how to do any of it. You don’t know how to make the symbols or call upon your ancestors, not like I do. You can’t bind them or summon them. I am more of a Storm than you will ever be. I’ve drunk more Storm blood than can be contained in your body. It is not fair that you now have the knife. Give it to me. Give it to me, Joanna, and we can work together.”

  “Stay back, Vivian Kemal! Stay away from me! I’m not Joanna! I am Megan Pressfield!” I stumbled over Lee’s dead body, but I did not fall. My sight was still blurry, my cuts were screaming painfully, and I was wobbly like a newborn colt. And she knew it. She smiled at me as if to say, Oh yes, I see you. I see how weak you are. You will die.

  I waved the knife between us. She did not laugh at me or move to take it from me. She began to whisper her incantations, and then she giggled. “Stop it, Vivian! Stop your witchcraft, now!”

  “Witchcraft? Was it witchcraft when your mother insisted on daily transfusions? Was it witchcraft when she regularly exchanged blood with me? I kept her alive, Joanna.” Did she not hear me? I told her I was Megan, not Joanna. Vivian continued to stalk closer to me. “She should have been my mother, not yours. Never yours. You were too ashamed of her. You hurt her with your disgust; she spoke of it often. You were too weak to be a Storm, so I made myself one. I took her blood and became what you could not become, a true Storm. The Storm blood is in my body because Zea gave it to me, freely. She did this because you hated her. In the end, you couldn’t even stand to look at her.”

  “You lie, you evil witch! You lie!”

  “Do I? You couldn’t stand to see your mother when she had her spells, and now, what bitter irony—you have the same malady. Do you think that it is a coincidence? That is no disease you have but a special ability, Joanna. With your Storm blood, you can know the future. We can see our own deaths. We can know things that others will never know. It is a power beyond your reckoning. That power was brought here to Morgan’s Rock, stone by stone; the rocks were soaked in the blood of other Storms. Others who had your ability; they called it a curse, this malady. But I see its true potential. I have spent my life studying it!”

  “Yes, and look what it has done for you, Vivian! Let me through! Let me out of here!”

  Suddenly Joanna rose up within me, and I realized that my fate—whatever it would be—was now in her hands. Vivian paced the other side of the altar now. I heard Joanna say, “You have always hated me. You were always jealous of everything I had, even Danny!”

  She didn’t laugh, but her wicked smile disappeared. “The only thing I ever wanted was your blood. Ah, Danny. He was such a disappointment. I wish…but things were not to be. There is no one left but you and me, Joanna. Now the question is…” She licked her bloody finger and extended her hand to me. Did she think Joanna would give up the knife to her? She was sadly mistaken. Vivian could have this kn
ife only when she pried it from Joanna’s cold, dead hands. Or mine!

  I glanced down at Lee’s body, a pool of blood around his head like a wet, red halo.

  “Give me the knife. I must have your blood to finish my transfusion. Just one more cut should be all it takes; that’s what my guides have told me. This is the way to do it. I must take all your blood, I’m afraid, so it will mean sure death for you. That’s unfortunate, but it is the nature of things.”

  “What do you mean, Vivian?”

  “I must be the only Storm left, and I will have your blood. All of it.”

  “You aren’t a Storm. I don’t care how many of us Storms you have killed, how many have shed their blood for your crazy scheme; it won’t be enough to make you one of us. You are a Kemal, and there is nothing you can do to change that!”

  With a roar of fury, she charged at me and knocked me down. Where was Joanna? It was me that Vivian wrestled with now. I held the tiny knife with both hands and to my horror saw that the blade had pierced her eye. Vivian screamed loudly, screamed until she could scream no more, but I did not help her. I ripped the knife out with all the force I could muster and stood over her panting and weeping. Then suddenly Joanna rose up again and I heard her say, “I am Joanna Storm, the only Storm at Morgan’s Rock.”

  And when she said that, the torch blew out and the room went black. For a moment, I heard something. Laughter, soft and happy. It was the sound of laughter, her father’s laughter. Along with Joanna, I recalled the stories he told her about the Storm family, the bloody stones and the strange zigzag shape in which they’d been laid. Yes, he was laughing now. He appeared so handsome, his hair tousled as if the wind had been blowing it around. No mustache wax now. No suit, just his white shirt, brown vest and brown pants, which looked like what he might have worn on pyramid explorations. And somehow I knew that now he was doing what he loved. And all would be well with him forever, but Joanna’s mother? I saw her nowhere, and her father did not speak about her.