Ghosts, Ghouls, and Haunted Houses

by Carrie King

  “Come to me.”

  William was dimly aware of a low, evil cackling which echoed around the cellar mixing with the sibilant hiss of the whispers.

  Lisa reached down and began to undo the zipper of his jeans.

  Chapter 30

  Three weeks later

  Sandra stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her face was white, and her eyes looked huge against her pale skin. Her lower lip trembled as she gazed at her reflection.

  As she watched, a single tear dropped from the corner of one eye and rolled down her face. She wiped it away, leaving a faint smear on her skin. Her heart hurt. She could physically feel the pain. William had never spoken to her like that before.

  “Sandra?” William’s voice called up the stairs, heavy with impatience. “What are you doing? I need your help with this. Why must you always be so exasperating?”

  Sandra swallowed hard, trying to compose herself. She had no idea what had gotten into her husband, but over the past few weeks his personality had changed dramatically. He was mean, sarcastic, and impatient. She had never seen this side of him before, and she did not like it one bit.

  “Sandra!” William shouted her name again. “Come here!”

  She jumped, afraid of the tone she could hear in his voice. She already knew that if she went to him he would talk to her harshly and cruelly, tell her she was stupid, and make her feel bad about herself.

  She sniffed and took a deep breath before walking to the top of the stairs and peering over.

  She looked down to where William was holding one end of the laundry press, part of it out the door and part of it still sitting on the floorboards of the entrance way.

  “I don’t think I can help you anymore,” she said finally having the courage to stand up for herself.

  “You keep telling me that I’m not doing it right. And anyway, it’s far too heavy for me. Do you want me to go and ask Mike?”

  “Do you want me to go and ask Mike?” William mimicked her, his voice heavy with contempt. “No, I don’t want you to go and ask Mike. I need you to get your useless arse down here and give me a hand.”

  Sandra swallowed hard.

  “No,” she said firmly. “I will not help you if you continue to talk to me like that.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake.”

  William dropped his hands from the press and turned away.

  “You useless bitch,” he muttered under his breath, before pushing past the piece of equipment and stomping out the front door.

  Sandra sank down onto the top stair and dropped her head into her hands. The pain and confusion in her heart threatened to overwhelm her. What had happened to their wonderful marriage? They’d been so happy. But, seemingly overnight, William had changed, and she was at a complete loss as to what could have caused such a drastic turn-about in his personality.

  The bathroom door suddenly slammed behind her and Sandra jumped. She frowned. She was sure that there were no windows open upstairs, but surely it had been a breeze that had caused the door to slam. She felt a ripple of cold fingers run up her spine and she shivered, pushing herself to her feet. She opened the bathroom door and looked inside. The window remained firmly closed.

  As she stood in the doorway, a low whispering swirled around her head. She turned quickly. On the landing, a cloud of yellow dust swirled, spinning like a small tornado in front of her. As Sandra watched, it dissolved and dispersed, leaving a sprinkling of dust across the dark floorboards.

  As she stared at the dust she heard voices downstairs. With a deep trepidation she leaned over the banister rail to look down.

  William had returned with Mike, and within moments the men had hoisted the laundry press up and carried it outside.

  Sandra sighed and turned back to the bathroom. She walked in and turned on the taps, rinsing her hands in the cool water. She looked up to study her reflection again, and jumped in surprise. Someone was standing behind her shoulder.

  Sandra whirled around, but there was no one there. Her heart beat rapidly against her chest as she turned back to the mirror. No, she had not imagined it; there it was again.

  The face of a young nun was looking back at her from over her left shoulder. “I will help if I can, this has to end,” the words were in her head, little more than a whisper.

  As Sandra watched, the woman stared sadly at her for several seconds. Then her hand went to the silver cross at her neck before the image shimmered and disappeared.

  She felt lightheaded and disoriented.

  Shaking her head to try and clear it, Sandra turned off the tap and reached for a hand towel. A faint smell of sulfur reached her nostrils, stinging and penetrating. She could hear the men moving about downstairs, taking another piece of equipment from the cellar to the trailer that William had hired to transport the junk to the tip. She suddenly felt exhausted, barely able to keep her eyes open. Dropping the towel to the floor, she stumbled across the landing and fell across the bed.

  Sandra’s eyes snapped open. The room was dark. Outside, she could hear the wind howling, rattling at the windows and shaking the tiles on the roof.

  She jumped as she felt something touch her foot, and quickly she scrambled upright, struggling to see in the gloom.

  “William?” her voice was shaky in the darkness.

  “Lazy bitch,” William’s voice was cold and hard.

  She heard him move around to his side of the bed.

  “You slept the whole afternoon away while I tidied the basement.”

  She heard the sound of his belt buckle and the soft sigh of his zipper. His pants hit the floor with a muffled thud, and the side of the bed suddenly dipped as he put his weight on it. He reached for her with rough hands that dug into her shoulder.

  “You can make yourself useful to me now,” he said.

  Sandra pushed at him.

  “What are you doing? You’re hurting me.” Her fingers scrabbled across the bare skin of his chest. “William, what has gotten into you?” She pulled herself away and sat on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily. “What time is it?” She still felt disoriented and weak.

  William suddenly grabbed her hair and yanked it, hard.

  She screamed in pain.

  “Let me go!”

  He pulled her backward onto the bed next to him and then threw himself on top of her, straddling her with his legs.

  Sandra pushed and struggled, feeling tiny pieces of his skin catching under her nails.

  William grabbed her wrists and flung them over her head, holding them down on the mattress.

  “Stay still,” he ordered.

  The whispering started again, filling the room with its rapid rustle and hiss.

  Sandra whipped her head wildly from one side to the other. “Let me go!” she shouted, lifting her hips to try and fling William off her.

  William bent his head suddenly and bit hard at her neck. The pain rushed up to her head in a sharp torrent of agony. She screamed and struggled harder.

  “Get off me!”

  The whispering around her intensified, almost manic in its tone and urgency as it urged him on.

  Suddenly, William’s weight lifted and Sandra was free. She threw herself off the bed and stood to one side, breathing heavily.

  “Don’t. You. Ever. Do. That. Again,” she said as she fought to control her breathing. Heart pounding she turned around and switched on the bedroom light, putting her hand up to the bite mark on her neck as she did so. It came away covered in blood.

  She looked back into the room. William was lying back on the bed, naked except for the sheet covering his groin. There was something malevolent about the gaze on his face. His hand moved rapidly up and down beneath the sheet. A slow, nasty smile played over his lips as he leered at her.

  A dark whispering filled every corner of the bedroom. Rising to such a frenzy that it was like a physical presence pushing and pulling at her.

  Sandra turned away in disgust. “What are you doing? How are you making that no
ise? And why did you do that to me? I don’t even know who you are anymore!”

  She ran out of the bedroom and down the stairs tears falling from her eyes as the whispers followed her down the stairs. Salt and fire were two words that she could make out but the rest of it was just a sound. It raked across the hairs on her neck and turned her stomach over.

  Chapter 31

  Sandra walked downstairs heavily, carrying her travel bag. Her shoulders drooped, and she felt old beyond her years. Never could she ever have imagined that the day would come when she would leave William. But she knew in her heart that she wasn’t leaving the William she’d fallen in love with. The man who now shared her house was not the man she had married. Something had changed and a darkness had fallen on him since they came to the house in Briar Park.

  She reached the bottom of the stairs and placed the bag on the floorboards. She’d spent last night on the couch in the living room, and her neck ached where William had bitten her. She had no idea where he was now. She had not seen him this morning, and he had not shown his face while she packed her things.

  Quickly, she looked into the kitchen. Despite her anger, she could not leave without speaking to him. The kitchen was empty. She walked over to the far wall and peered out of the window at the garden, her hands grazing the yellow dust which covered the sill.

  There he was.... digging in the vegetable patch, his back to her.

  Sandra looked around the room, her eyes filling with tears. She’d felt so happy when they’d moved in here, sure that they would spend the rest of their days in this house. She’d been so sure that they would soon have children and that she and William would grow old together. And now everything had changed. Sighing, she walked along the short corridor to the back door and placed her hand on the door handle. It didn’t move under her touch. Frowning, she pulled at the door. Was it locked?

  She pressed her face up to the small window in the door and called to William. He did not turn around.

  Irritated, Sandra walked through the house to the front door. As she stepped into the entrance way, a swirl of yellow dust spun through the air and into the living room. She knew for sure that she wouldn’t miss all the dust.

  She tried to open the front door, but that too was locked. William always left keys in the door, but there was nothing hanging from the lock. She walked back into the kitchen, searching. She was becoming angry now. Had William locked her inside on purpose?

  The keys were nowhere to be seen. Sandra pulled open drawers and searched through the cupboards, growing crosser by the minute. This was ridiculous! She fumbled with the window latch, determined to open the window and shout at William to come and let her out.

  The window would not budge.

  Sandra dropped the latch and banged her open palms against the glass, shouting William’s name. He either did not hear her, or he was ignoring her as he continued his digging out in the garden.

  The low whispering began again, rushing through the kitchen and slamming into Sandra’s ears like a sharp slap.

  She looked around frantically, trying to find the source of the noise. She suddenly heard the back door open and she ran out of the kitchen. William was walking toward her, the bulk of his body blocking the hallway.

  “Why did you lock me in?” she shouted at him. “Let me out now, or I’ll call the police.”

  William frowned at her. He lifted one hand, the skin covered with crumbs of wet earth, and reached out as if to stroke her hair. “Sandra …?” he sounded distant and puzzled.

  Sandra ducked her head, moving out of his reach. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

  William shook his head, as if trying to shake away an annoying bug. He looked at her, but his eyes were cloudy and unfocused. “What is the matter, darling?”

  Sandra snatched up her travel bag and pushed past him, hurrying toward the back door. “You’re mad. I’m leaving.”

  She wrenched at the door, but it was locked again, the key nowhere in sight. In a rage, she turned back, shouting at her husband, “Unlock the door and let me out!”

  “I’m sorry, Sandra.” William’s tone of voice was almost musical. He had the same faraway look in his eye. “I couldn’t help myself. She made me do it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sandra dropped the suitcase on the floor at her feet and held out her hand. “Give me the key.” Her voice was shaking.

  William took a step toward her.

  “Stay there!” she warned. “Just give me the key, and I’ll leave.”

  William stood in one spot, swaying gently. He shook his head again, a frown wrinkling his brow. “The whispers …,” he said.

  Sandra stared at him. “Have you heard them too? They are infuriating. I thought you had something to do with the noise. That it was you making me hear things...”

  “The whispers. I can’t stop myself doing what they tell me to do.”

  He looked at her sadly, and for a moment Sandra caught a glimpse of the old William in his tortured gaze.

  “The whispers enticed me and called me, and they told me to do it.”

  “Made you do what?”

  Sandra looked around wildly. She was starting to feel claustrophobic with the door behind her and William’s body blocking her path out of the narrow hallway.

  “William, can you get out of the way?”

  “They made me have sex with Lisa.” William’s voice was almost a moan. His shoulders drooped.

  “What?” Sandra stared at her husband in horror. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Lisa, our neighbor? When did this happen? Who made you do it? What are you talking about?”

  He continued speaking, as if she’d said nothing. “Lisa is pregnant.”

  Chapter 32

  Sandra stood in the kitchen, breathing heavily. Her entire world had been ripped away from her, and everything she thought she knew had collapsed. And still she couldn’t get out of this damned house!

  Afraid, weak-kneed, she glared at William.

  He was now sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.

  “Don’t sit there feeling sorry for yourself. No one could have forced you to do that.” She wanted to hit him, to scream, to rip his eyes from his face. “You disgust me,” she shouted her voice dripped with loathing.

  William said nothing.

  Sandra turned away and rattled the window latch again. “Why can’t I open any of the windows or doors? I need to leave, William. Let me out now or I’m going to call the locksmith.”

  She reached for the phone and held it to her ear. There was no dial tone. Angrily, Sandra stabbed at the disconnect button over and over, but still there was no tone. She slammed the phone back down onto the cradle.

  “And the phone is dead! What is going on?”

  She rushed out of the kitchen again, grabbing at the front door handle with both hands and pulling at it frantically, but it was all to no avail. She turned back to the kitchen and gasped.

  Standing in front of her was the shadowy figure of a young nun. She reached out a hand towards Sandra, her shape fading in and out of view.

  “The time is now.”

  “What!” Sandra shouted but the words were gone and so was the nun. Yet somehow she felt better. More relaxed than she had in weeks. It was like being in the presence of a parent after a nightmare. Somehow you knew that now you were safe.

  The nun reappeared, her eyes sad and full of tears.

  “Run! Run while you still can!” the young woman whispered and she held onto her silver cross. “Go quickly with God.”

  Sandra screamed and William, finally roused from his stupor, ran from the kitchen.

  “What? What is it?”

  Sandra stared at the empty space where the nun had stood just moments ago. “There was someone here.”

  William looked around. His eyes were no longer glassy. He seemed alert and fully conscious. “Can you smell that?” he said suddenly.

  Sandra sniffed the air. The f
aint, acrid smell of smoke reached her. “Something is on fire.”

  They both looked down the hallway toward the back door. A curl of black smoke wove its way out from under the door to the basement and hovered in the corridor. “The house is on fire! William, you have to get us out! Smash a window!”

  Chapter 33

  Sandra ran after William as he rushed back into the kitchen. He picked up one of the wooden chairs and lobbed it at the window pane. The chair bounced back into the room, not making a scratch on the glass. Sandra screamed and picked up the electric kettle, throwing it at the window and screaming again when it bounced off uselessly, leaving the glass intact.

  “William,” she shouted hysterically as smoke began to fill the room, “We’re trapped!”

  The nun was back, walking into the kitchen she went to the cupboard and pulled out a bag of salt.

  Sandra felt better seeing her there and yet she couldn’t explain it. She reached out and felt William take her hand.

  The nun looked at a pile of tea towels and pointed at the tap. Sandra didn’t understand and she could feel the heat rising in the house and the flames whipped up and raged toward them.

  “Wet them,” William said and ran to the sink.

  Quickly he dumped them into the sink and turned on the tap. As they were soaked with water he wrapped one around her mouth and put another over her head.

  Sandra’s eyes were filled with tears. This would not stop the flames. The nun was tipping salt on the window frame and then in front of the doors. Occasionally she would look at them and there were tears in her eyes.

  “What are we to do?” Sandra asked.

  “The cellar, maybe we can survive in there?”

  Sandra nodded and helped him with the tea towels. Once they were all soaked they took each other’s hand and headed for the cellar door.

  The smoke was thick now and even with the tea towels over their mouths the smoke clogged their throat and threatened to block up their lungs. Flames leaped at them as they crossed the hallway.