“That was a long drive, I thought Becks only lived up the road,” said Tom smirking.
“Or a long goodbye,” grinned Gregor “That’s my boy.” He raised his whisky glass in salute.
*
Robert was sitting on the edge of the bed on the verge of falling asleep when Ellie was suddenly there. He jerked his head up off his chest and stood up.
“Hello Ellie.”
“Hi Robert,” she replied smiling. He looked at her for several long seconds not speaking or smiling.”What’s wrong Robert?” she said frowning.
“Did you kill Gary, the boy you went to school with?”
“He was horrible, he put dog muck in my hair,” said Ellie sulkily. Robert shook his head.
“But you killed him, that’s wrong Ellie.” Ellie said nothing. “What about all the other people who died this week Ellie?”
“They were all bad people, they deserved it,” said Ellie defensively.
“But you can’t go round killing people Ellie, only bad people do that.” Ellie shook her head
“No, I’m not bad. I’m your sister.”
“You’re bad Ellie. You never used to be bad. You’ve changed. I don’t want you here anymore.”
“No, I came here specially to see you,” wailed Ellie desperately.
“Go away, I don’t want you here anymore, you’re bad.” And with that Robert climbed back into bed and rolled over, putting his back to Ellie.
“Robert,” wailed Ellie. He pulled the quilt up over his head and tried to ignore her. She repeated his name over and over again. Finally it went quiet. Robert risked a peek over the top of the quilt. Ellie had gone.
*
Mike stepped off the bottom of the escalator into the furnace- like red glow. It was impossible to gauge the size of the room he was in. It simply disappeared into the distance. The walls and ceiling, if it had any, were made of pulsing heat. A few yards ahead Ellie Parsons walked up to a tall figure that was waiting for her. A man in a long black coat and black hat. He was looking down at Ellie, the hat hiding his features, and held out his hand. She took his hand and turned round to face Mike. She was crying and tears ran down her face. The man raised his head to look at Mike. He had no face.
Mike jerked awake suddenly. He swung his legs out of the bed and buried his face in his hands. He was shaken by the dream but more than that he was worried about the next day’s events. He desperately didn’t want to let anybody down but the nagging doubts were bubbling closer to the surface. He went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, he looked tired. He closed his eyes and his thoughts went back to the last time he had taken part in an exorcism. Alfreton Road Nottingham.
The weather had changed since leaving the retreat in Derbyshire. They’d set out in bright sunshine but gradually the clouds had taken over and it was gloomy and threatening rain as they neared Nottingham. Gregor was driving and had insisted on stopping for breakfast, ‘You can’t do this stuff on an empty stomach’ he had said sagely. They stopped at a little cafe a bit off their route where he was obviously a regular, judging by the warm welcome he got from the owner. Mike picked at his scrambled egg on toast whilst Gregor demolished the biggest breakfast he had ever seen.
“You OK?” said Gregor through a mouthful of bacon and mushroom.
“Yeah,” mumbled Mike in reply. “A bit nervous though. Tom would normally be with you on this if he hadn’t gone down with flu, wouldn’t he?”
“Yes, but we would have brought you along anyway,” stated Gregor, “You’re ready.”
They were at the house in less than twenty minutes. Amanda Poole lived in a perfectly normal looking semi-detached house in a nondescript street. They were met by the local vicar, John Smalling, and Amanda’s parents Barbara and Tony, who fussed around nervously. Finally Mike was introduced to Amanda herself. She muttered a hello and went back to staring at the floor. She could have been any dark eyed sulky teenager except for the scars on her arms and neck, which Mike was only too aware of. He had read the file. The parents said their goodbyes, both hugging Amanda tightly, before John Smalling took them to the local vicarage where they were going to sit this one out.
“Right, I’ll just get my gear on” said Gregor going into the Kitchen. Mike looked back to Amanda, to find she was staring at him intently. As the seconds ticked by Mike got more and more uncomfortable, finally having to look away from her. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the girl smirk and look down. Thankfully Gregor came back into the room, now wearing his vestments and carrying a kitchen chair. He placed the chair in the middle of the lounge and tapped the back of it.
“Please sit here Amanda” he said lightly.
“Why can’t I sit on the couch” said the girl sulkily.
“Because you need to sit up for this, not lounge about” replied Gregor. For a second Mike thought she was not going to comply, but she reluctantly dragged herself off the couch and sat on the chair. “Now, you know what this is about Amanda, it has all been explained to you. When this is over you can get on with your life again, OK?” Amanda shrugged in reply.
Gregor opened his bible and the paper within it containing the exorcism rite. He began to read. Everything seemed to be going alright, although the girl looked more bored than anything else.
Then something changed. The atmosphere altered drastically. Gregor turned to Mike and nodded. Mike nodded back. He carried on reading, but Mike found it hard to concentrate. There were odd whispers coming from the corners of the room. Not quite voices, difficult to make out. Gregor seemed to be totally unaware of them. Finally he stopped reading, and spoke directly to Amanda.
“In the name of God be gone from this place.”
“Don’t think so,” came the reply. The voice came from Amanda but it was not her speaking.
Mike was struggling to follow this. The echoing whispers in his head making it hard to think.
“In the name of God be gone from this place.”
“Shan’t.”
Mike clamped his hands over his ears.
“In the name of God, depart this innocent and leave this place.”
“Innocent? You must be joking. You should see some of the stuff on her browser history; it would make your balls shrivel. Anyway I think I would rather have him, how about it Michael?”
At the mention of his name the girl turned to look at Mike. He sank to his knees, his own name echoing in his head louder and louder, Michael, Michael, Michael.
Gregor stepped sideways between the girl and Mike in an effort to break the connection. Mike began to vomit and crumpled to the floor.
Gregor made a decision and turned to lift Mike off the floor. Grabbing him under the armpits, he dragged him towards the door. Opening it with difficulty he looked back as Amanda screamed.
“Jesus Christ” he exclaimed. Dazed, Mike followed his gaze.
Amanda Poole was tearing out her own hair in bloodied handfuls. Black smoke poured from her mouth and blue flames flickered in her eye sockets. Her eyes were on fire.
Gregor managed to get them both out of the front door into the small neat garden. He rolled Mike onto his stomach so he wouldn’t choke on his own vomit. The voice in Mike’s head started to recede and he blissfully slipped into unconsciousness.
*
The girl’s death was hushed up. Mike was sent to a rest home run by the church, having suffered close to a nervous breakdown. It was a long journey back to normality. The Derbyshire retreat was nearly closed down, only the support of a few senior bishops preventing it. At one point it looked as if Mike was never going to be allowed back into the clergy but eventually a nice quiet parish was found for him.
And now he was about to step into the breach again.
Chapter Ten - Saturday
“Nice day for it,” growled Gregor, eating a piece of toast while leaning on the kitchen doorframe and looking at the rain as it turned the vicarage garden into a quagmire. It had rained steadily all
night and showed no sign of relenting. The thick unmoving black clouds made the day almost as black as night. Mike had spent most of the morning in a state of near panic, having not prepared anything for Sunday’s service. He tucked himself away in his bedroom and quickly drafted a sermon, then made a lengthy and apologetic phone call to Mrs Douchamps to sort out the music. Becks had walked down with Cookie. They had something to eat and hung around the vicarage for a few hours until true darkness fell. Tom had surveyed the graveside but was concerned at the amount of traffic passing on the road. They had to be discreet about this, so decided to use the church. They left Cookie in the vicarage kitchen with some dog biscuits and a bowl of water, then scurried over to the church in the rain, carrying a sports bag with all they needed to perform the summoning. Mike opened the doors and ushered the others in, taking one last look around before heading inside himself.
Behind the church the bulk of Winter Hill loomed in the darkness. The red lights on the TV mast shone out brightly against the blackness.
The church door closed with a resounding thud, shutting out the wind and rain. It was cool inside but quiet. They took off their damp outer coats and draped them over the pews to dry. Mike and Becks were wearing their dog collars. Tom and Gregor had their vestments on. Mike tried not to think about what had happened the last time he saw Gregor in his vestments. They’d brought some candles in lanterns with them and lit these on the altar, deciding against turning the electric lights on and drawing attention to their presence. They laid out the items from the sports bag on the altar. Holy water, salt, an incense burner and two bibles with the translation of the summoning rite folded within them.
“Right. If everybody is ready, let’s get started,” said Gregor. They all nodded assent and Tom took the bag of salt and poured it in a large circle on the floor in front of the altar. He placed the incense burner in the circle and lit it. Gregor opened the summoning rite and started to read from it. “Ellie Parsons, I summon you here in the name of God.” He dropped some incense into the burner which flared for a split second and filled the air with a sweet aroma. “Protect me now with all your might, gracious God, day and night. Mind the threefold laws I will, and do no harm, I will not kill. I am stronger than fire burning bright. I am as wise as the earth, dependable and constant. I am as intelligent as water coursing through the veins of the world. I am as changing as the wind, whistling through space and time. Ellie Parsons I call on you, come to me.” He dropped some more incense into the burner which flared again and stepped back.
Nothing happened.
“Time for a smoke,” said Gregor. Mike knew that they could perform the ritual three times at twelve minute intervals. So while Gregor lit a cigarette, he, Tom and Becks stood around aimlessly, none of them feeling that small talk was appropriate. Twelve minutes later Gregor performed the ritual again. Once again nothing happened. It was getting tense.
“Third time lucky,” said Tom at the appointed hour and Gregor performed the ritual again. He finished by dropping more incense on the burner, and stepped back. For a few seconds nothing happened. Then the candles in the lanterns on the altar started to flicker.
“Hello,” mumbled Gregor. The incense smoke was drawn into the salt circle and funnelled upwards. The air seemed to crackle with static, and Ellie Parsons was suddenly there, standing in the circle looking lonely and forlorn. A tear ran down her cheek. Could ghosts cry? This one did.
“Oh Ellie,” said Becks, putting her hand to her mouth.
“Ellie Parsons, you have no place in this world. In the name of God I command you to go,” intoned Gregor.
“Robert hates me,” moaned Ellie.
“In the name of God I command you to go,” repeated Gregor more forcefully.
“I don’t want to be here anymore,” mumbled Ellie.
“In the name of God I command you to go,” roared Gregor. Taking the holy water, he poured some into his hand and threw it towards the salt circle where Ellie stood. She screamed, there was a sound like a sheet of glass cracking, and suddenly Ellie was gone.
“Wow,” said Mike after recovering his composure, “Is it done?”
“Yes it’s done,” said Gregor. He took a deep breath, stepped forward and put some new incense into the burner. A cleansing incense, the smell of cloves filled the air. The tension had lifted. Mike hugged Becks. Gregor lit another cigarette and drew deeply on it, blowing smoke up into the rafters. Mike shook Tom and Gregor’s hands,
“Thank you both so much, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“It’s what we are here for,” smiled Tom, hugging Mike.
Suddenly three loud bangs echoed around the church. They all looked to the source of the noise, the church doors. Everybody froze. Several seconds passed then three more deafening bangs on the church door.
Mike looked to Gregor, “What is it?”
Gregor shook his head slowly,“I don’t know, but the facts of this case were so unusual, I wondered if Ellie Parsons spirit was being directed by something. I’ve a feeling we’re going to find out what. You might want to take a back seat on this one Mike.”
“Why?” said Tom. Gregor looked directly at Mike.
“Because this could be an entity we have encountered before, the one from Nottingham.” Mike’s blood ran cold. He looked around at his friends, swallowed hard and pushed the panic down.
“If I can’t do this now, with you here to back me up, then I never will be able to do it.” Gregor looked like he was going to object, but Mike stopped him. “I know what the risks are Gregor, I’ve been there. At least we know what we are dealing with this time. Besides which, this is MY parish.” Gregor smiled and nodded his head.
“Good man, now let’s get it right this time.” Three more loud bangs came from the church door. Mike took a bible from Tom, smiled tightly at Becks, then turned towards the doors and called out,
“Enter, all are welcome here.” The church doors creaked open and a tall figure was revealed silhouetted against the light from outside. It was wearing a long black coat and a wide brimmed hat, pulled low, that hid its bowed face. It made its way slowly down the aisle, stopping just short of the salt circle. The figure raised its head. Becks gasped. It had no face.
“The reverend Michael Cunningham, we meet again.” The cultured voice came from where the face should have been, but there was nothing there. No matter which angle you looked at it from it was just a blur. This was something trying to appear human that had absolutely no right to be in this world, a demon in human form.
Mike stepped forward and said clearly, “You have no place in this world, In the name of God I command you to leave.” The demon paused briefly, seeming to consider the request before replying,
“Actually, I think I’ll stay if it’s all the same to you, unfinished business and all that.”
“In the name of God, I command you to leave,” Mike repeated.
“Shan’t,” said the demon childishly. Gregor and Tom joined in with Mike,
“In the name of God, I command you to leave.”
“Not without my property,” said the demon mockingly, slowly raising an arm. It pointed a slim, well manicured finger at Mike. “You are my property. You belong to me now, Michael Cunningham.”
Mike staggered back under the weight of the words,
“No,” he cried. His head started to spin. He could hear Tom and Gregor commanding the demon to leave. He could hear Becks shouting his name. He felt the bible slipping from his hand, he was going to collapse.
Suddenly he was somewhere else. He was standing on a wooden jetty, jutting out into an estuary from a bed of reeds. The sky was black, inky clouds boiled furiously overhead, only a thin strip of light on the horizon testifying to it being daytime. Off to his right, the towers of some kind of refinery belched flame into the sky. At the end of the jetty stood the demon, his back to Mike, staring out across the water. A black shape detached itself from the darkness and slid silently into view. It was a barge, mad
e entirely of black wood, carved with symbols that Mike had to look away from. It soundlessly pulled up to the end of the jetty and stopped. The demon turned to face Mike.
“Your carriage awaits Michael,“ it said gesturing to the barge. Mike shook his head and looked over his shoulder. A few yards away, where the jetty met the shore, there was a doorway in the very air, leading to the church. He could see his friends battling the demon within the church but could hear nothing.
“Oh come on Michael,” said the demon, “You’re a fake and you know you are. You’re no use to anyone back there.”
“I’m a good man I’ve done my best all my life to try to help others.”
“You didn’t help Amanda Poole much,” sneered the demon. “I took her soul, she’s in hell now. And all because you pretended you were strong enough to help her, when you knew you couldn’t.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh it is true Michael. She’s suffering eternal damnation because of your ego.”
“No, I thought my faith was strong enough.”
“You knew that your faith wasn’t strong enough then Michael, and as for now, where is it?” The demon theatrically went through the pockets of his coat before holding his hands out. “No, I haven’t got it, and you certainly haven’t. You‘re a vicar who has lost his faith. You are no use to anyone. You should come with me before you let one of your friends down and they end up paying the ultimate price for you.” The demon beckoned and Mike took a hesitant step forward, then another. “That’s good Michael, that’s the right thing to do.” Mike took another step forward.
The Haunting of Winter Hill Page 9