by Jack Lewis
He let out a laugh, throaty and deep, one that bore into my soul. Then, voices broke out around me, lots of them at once, all young and scared.
“My name is Frank East, I’m eight years old.”
“My name is Henrietta Yates, I’m thirteen years old.”
I understood now. Or, I half-understood. Viseth had tricked me. He’d mimicked Hannah’s voice. Did that mean he’d mimicked the voices of the other children? Was that his way of mocking their parents, gloating over what he’d taken from them?
The torch flew out of my hands as though it had been grabbed by some spectral force. With the beam still on, the spread of yellow light twirled in the air, illuminating the walls. As it did, I saw the open entrance of the section I was in, where Viseth had led me when he pretended to be Hannah.
Beyond it was a narrow pathway that seemed to lead into the wider atrium of Viseth’s gateway, and it had a drop on either side of it.
I saw that Viseth had tricked me into some kind of smaller tomb, with narrow, curved walls and a domed roof. Stretched-out human skin covered the walls.
Pelts. Human pelts, I realised, but with faces. And now, one of them spoke to me.
“My name is Ashley Webb. I’m ten years old.”
Another replied, “My name is Claire Redmond. I’m seven years old.”
I wanted to cover my ears, but my arms wouldn’t respond. I wanted to sink to the floor, but my legs wouldn’t do that, either.
The children were here. The gifts that the Effigia had given to Viseth. I knew what had happened now, and I knew they weren’t really talking; it was Viseth, he was goading me, tricking me, just like he had to lead me here.
The torch went out.
Viseth was done toying with me now. I knew it.
I turned slightly right, facing where I had seen the entrance to this place. I knew there was a ledge ahead, with a drop on either side, and I had only my memories of it to guide me in the utter darkness.
Death by falling, or dying at Viseth’s hands, and ending up as a pelt on his wall?
I made my choice, and I ran. With my pulse racing so fast I thought I’d pass out, I sprinted ahead, trusting to all hells that I was running a straight, true path. I heard five taps repeat again and again behind me, and I knew that Viseth was following me.
Soon, I realised I had been running for too long. I must have been beyond the ledge by now. I’d made it without falling.
My relief was weak and short, because I was still trapped in here with the five-legged demon.
“Hannah?” I shouted.
The only answer was Viseth’s pursuit.
I ran some more, calling her name as I went. Running and shouting made my voice sound strange and stretched. Soon, my lungs started to hurt.
“Hannah? Your mother sent me here. I’m here to help you.”
The taps got louder and quicker. Viseth was catching me up. Either he could see down here, or he knew the place well enough that it didn’t matter.
“Hannah?” I shouted, desperate. “This is your last chance. Nobody will come for you after me. If you’re here, please trust me.”
“You won’t trick me again,” said a voice.
A girl’s voice, different to the one I'd heard before. I could hear the difference now; Viseth’s copy of it had lacked a human factor, it had been an empty mimicry. This was the real Hannah, I was sure of it.
Now I just needed to convince her to trust me in the next few seconds.
“Hannah, my name is Ella. I know your mother, and your uncle. They sent me here to get you out.”
“Hannah? It’s mum,” said a voice behind her.
It chilled me. It sounded just like Nadine.
“Wait there for a second, darling. Let Mum get this horrible woman away from you.”
I reached out and felt Hannah’s shoulder. I held her and stopped her from running.
“You’re hurting me,” she said, trying to get away. “Mum!”
“Hannah,” I said. “You know your mother’s name, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then ask it. What’s her mother called?” I said.
“Silly,” said a voice, sounding closer. “Mum is mum. Everyone knows that.”
“That’s not your mother, Hannah,” I said.
She stopped struggling. My relief was as warm as it was short-lived. I’d convinced her to trust me, but that was only the start of it.
“Do you know a way out of here?” I said.
I felt Hannah move closer to me. “There are five doors, but they don’t have handles.”
Five doors. Five wells. I thought that I understood now.
“Lead me to one. You’ve learned to find them by touch?”
“This way.”
I held the real Hannah’s hand this time as she led me through the black. Viseth followed us, and the longer we ran the more he mumbled to himself, cursing in a guttural voice, his feet pounding on the stone one after the other. He got closer and closer until I knew he could only have been feet away from us.
“Here,” said Hannah, stopping.
I reached out and felt a wooden door in front of me. Hannah had said that it had no handles, but I knew how to open it.
I pressed play on the Dictaphone, hearing a woman’s voice say “Meyla.”
The door swung open. I grabbed Hannah and ran beyond it, toward a bright light in the distance.
-32-
The bright light turned out to be something above us. It was disorientating, but as we ran, the passageway seemed to flip on itself. I felt a lurch in my stomach like the sudden stop in an elevator, and I realized we weren’t running anymore, and there wasn’t a passageway. Instead, we were in a well.
Hannah retched beside me. I stroked her hair as I looked around. “You’re okay,” I told her. “He’s gone.”
This was a different well to the one in Devil Forest. The stone was a kind of sandstone yellow, and the light source above us was bright. At first I thought it was morning, but the light was too orange for that; it must have been a lamp hanging above the well.
To my right there was a metal ladder screwed into the well-side, leading to the top. I had never, ever been as glad to see a ladder.
“We have to climb,” I said.
“I can’t.”
“We’ll, you’ll have to. You go first. I’ll be behind you so you can’t fall.”
I hated being so harsh with her, but there was no choice. It was stupid, but I was worried I’d somehow rewind the Dictaphone by accident and press play, and transport myself back to Viseth’s gateway.
We had to get out of there, now.
“Up you go,” I said.
Hannah climbed up the well first and I followed her until we emerged into the outside air. We sure as hell weren’t in Blaketree anymore. The well we’d just climbed out of had a wooden post next to it with a burning oil lamp hanging from it.
Under the glow of the lamp I got my first real look at Hannah. She was short and a little big-boned like her mother and she had the Lasbeck family shock of red hair, except hers was long and curly. She had a sweetness to her face that prodded at my emotions when I thought about her being trapped in the darkness of Viseth’s home.
I grabbed her and pressed her close to me. “You’re okay now,” I said, and I felt her press back and felt her hot breath on my neck.
“Come on.”
I took her hand, and we walked away from the well. If I never saw a well again in my life, I’d die content.
There was a house ahead of us. Not just a house, but a manor, a leviathan of a building with hundreds of windows, with a giant arched roof that had stone statues standing watch along its edges. The place chilled me, but I was glad to see it at the same time. There would be people. A telephone. I could ring for help, tell the Blaketree detectives that I’d found Hannah.
No, not detectives, I remembered, with a chill. Not plural. Detective Cromwell had been at the bottom of the Devil Forest well. God, what a mess.
“We’ll go and get help,” I said. “You’ll see your mum soon.”
I wanted to ask her what had happened when she went missing, but looking at her, I knew it wasn’t the time. She needed comfort. She needed a friendly face, not questions, not to be reminded of the horror she’d been through.
As we approached the manor, I saw a marble plaque set on the wall next to the front doors. It read, Lockpit Manor.
Lockpit Manor. Jeremiah had told me about it, mentioning the ritual he’d stumbled upon when he was part of the Effigia and they had invited him here.
This was a dark place, not a place of safety. The well had brought us here, but that made sense, didn’t it?
Five wells, five entrances to Viseth’s gateway. If the Effigia worshipped him, then it made sense one of the wells would be set in the grounds of the Effigia’s home.
I didn’t know what to do.
The handle of the front door turned before I could decide. I grabbed Hannah, and we ran away, following the outer walls of the house and turning a corner, putting some distance between us and the front door.
Then, I saw lights coming from a copse of trees beyond us, around forty feet away.
The lights were torches, I realised. Five of them, with people holding them up. They were wearing white gowns with hoods that covered their faces, and for a second I wondered if we’d stumbled into a Klan meet up. Whoever they were, they wouldn’t be friendly to us.
But there were footsteps coming from around the corner now. Someone had come out of the front door of the manor. We were trapped between whoever that was, and the figures emerging from the trees.
I looked around. Was there anywhere to hide? I couldn’t see a safe place.
Then I saw some steps to our left.
“Come on,” I said.
We walked quietly down the steps until we came to a stone door. It seemed to lead into the manor. I didn’t want to go in, but where else could we go?
“We’ll go inside,” I said. “Just a little. We’ll wait it out, and sneak away when it’s clear.”
I grabbed the metal ring handle and opened the door. Hannah and I went inside and shut the door behind us.
We found ourselves in a narrow passageway. The walls were made of stone, and torches fixed in metal holders gave off a soft light, revealing trails of cobwebs on the ceiling.
We walked along the passageway, heading toward a door at the far end. Before we got to it, I saw that part of the stone wall on my left gave way to iron bars.
It was a small prison cell. Cramped and windowless but with a woman sitting in the middle of the floor.
I jerked back. My chest tensed up.
The woman was my age, with long hair stained with dirt and grease. She had a cloth blindfold around her eyes, and duct tape on her mouth.
What the hell was happening in this house?
“Ella?” said Hannah, holding my hand tight.
“Shh.”
We couldn’t just leave her. We couldn’t run away and leave this poor woman in her cell, but what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t go into the house and announce myself.
Damn it. I wished Jeremiah was with me. I hoped he was okay.
Looking around, I saw a ring of iron keys hanging from a nail set in the stone wall near the cell. I grabbed them, put a key into a lock in the cell door and turned. The latch creaked, and I pulled the door open.
Rushing in, I stopped next to the woman.
“I’m here to help you,” I said.
I carefully took her blindfold and lifted it up. The woman’s eyes were pure blue but ringed with dark shadows. There was a pitiful look about her. She flinched back when I went to remove the tape from her mouth.
“Whoever is keeping you here, I’m not one of them, okay? I’m going to get you out of here.”
I went to remove the duct tape, but she scratched my hand. Pain burned on my skin, and I saw that she’d drawn blood.
How traumatized she must have been. I didn’t blame her. In her position, I wouldn’t have trusted anyone, either.
“I promise you, I’m not one of them. We just need to get out of here, okay?”
The woman nodded.
“I’ll remove your duct tape. It might hurt, but-”
She stood up and backed away from me, shaking her head. She pointed behind me, to a door at the end of the passageway that led to the outside.
“Fine,” I said. “We’ll take off the tape later.”
I just had to hope that the figures from the forest had passed through the grounds now, and that we’d have a clear getaway.
Holding Hannah’s hand, and with the woman following, I left the cell.
And then the door at the end of the passageway opened, and I saw a robed figure emerge.
The woman ran ahead of me, toward a door nearest to us. It must have led into the house. She opened it, and light spilled in, illuminating the cell fully. I saw now that the stone walls were covered in red shapes that looked like they’d been drawn on with blood.
“She’s loose!” shouted a voice at the end of the corridor. They were coming in; four figures wearing white robes.
The woman ran through the open doorway and into the manor, and Hannah and I followed. Before the robed people could chase us, I slammed the door shut. There was a wooden bar across it, so I dropped it, locking the door in place.
Fists pounded on the other side of the door. “You don’t know what you’re doing!” shouted a muffled voice.
You’ve got that right, I thought.
We were standing in a hallway inside the manor itself now. Where the torches in the passageway had been fuelled by burning oil, there were electric lamps here. The walls were covered by portraits of men and women sharing a familial resemblance. Some with podgy faces, others gaunt and almost seeming to sneer. The air smelled of spices; something strong that made my nostrils pinch.
The woman tapped me and pointed to an open doorway ahead of us, beyond which the sound of chanting drifted out.
“That way?” I said. “You’re sure?”
She nodded.
Hannah and I followed her through the doorway where we emerged into a wide-open atrium with a roof so high I had to crane my neck to see the top of it. There were wooden rafters across it, with ravens perched along the wood, turning their heads this way and that, but watching us silently. Watercolour paintings covered the walls, showing hideous creatures, scenes of men and women and children on altars, naked and smeared with blood. I felt like I was in a nightmare.
There were people here. Four people who were wearing the same robes as before. And there, tied to a chair in the centre, his face smeared with blood, was Jeremiah.
-33-
The door slammed shut behind us. A robed person must have crept behind me, shut it, and they twisted a key in the lock, trapping us in the atrium.
“I didn’t expect visitors,” said one of the robed figures in the atrium.
“Ella,” said Jeremiah, his voice strained. “Get out.”
“Remove your hoods.”
The four figures removed the hoods of their robes. I saw Felicity, Eric, and then Detective Withers. I couldn’t believe it.
“You? Really?”
The fourth man removed his hood. I didn’t recognize him. I certainly hadn’t seen him in the village.
“Let them go, Lester,” said Jeremiah.
So it was Lester Lockpit, the owner of the manor and the man who Jeremiah told me was the head of the Effigia. Despite being the rich head of a cult, he wasn’t impressive. Chubby, with a wrinkled face and podgy fingers.
“We already told the police where we were going. They’ll be here soon,” said Jeremiah.
It was a lie, and I think Lester knew it. At least I could put a name to the face now; he was the leader of the Effigia who Jeremiah had told me about.
I had so many questions, but the only thing I could think about was escape. Was there a way to untie Jeremiah and then get out of here? Run through th
e forest with Hannah, the woman we’d freed, and Jeremiah, and then keep going until we hit civilisation? Withers was corrupt, but surely not every member of the police around here would be?
I couldn’t see a way. Felicity was holding her crossbow now. Eric had a knife in his hand. No, not a knife. Bigger. Some kind of ceremonial blade.
I had nothing. Just a flashlight and a Dictaphone.
Wait a second.
I thought back to just a couple of days earlier. To getting on the train to Blaketree. I wished I could go back, miss the stop, just ride the train along its line to a place far, far away.
Eric looked at Lester. “She fucked it all up. I don’t know how, but…”
“She entered the gateway. It’s obvious.” Lester looked at me now, malic seeping from him. “Never mind. We can open it again. We’ll give Viseth extra gifts this time. The girl. You, whoever you are. And Jeremiah.”
Felicity raised the crossbow at me. “On your knees,” she said.
I looked around, desperate for a way out, for something I could do.
There was nothing.
Lester nodded at Eric. “Tie her up. Kill her if she moves. Viseth doesn’t need her. He’d like her, but he doesn’t need her. Just the girl.”
I sensed I was looking at the end now. Surrounded by the Effigia, Jeremiah tied up, Hannah clinging to my arm like I was her last anchor of safety.
There was only one thing I could even think to do.
I held the Dictaphone up, rewound it, and pressed play. A voice crackled from the speaker.
“Meyla,” said the voice.
But nothing happened. The woman we’d freed from the cellar looked at me now. Her eyes were cold, hard. Then she looked at Lester, and hatred twisted her features.
Lester laughed. “You idiot. Eric, tie her up. Pretend she’s a hog on your father’s farm.”
As Eric approached me, holding his blade and a coil of rope, the doors opened behind me. More robed figures, even more outnumbered.
But no. Soon, I saw two women rush by me.
Marion and Nadine. Marion was holding a rifle, while Nadine had a baseball bat. As cavalry went, it wasn’t the most impressive, but I had never been gladder to see anyone.