Haunted Happenings

by Lucrezia Black

  They took the stairs and headed straight for her bedroom. The glow from the nightlight radiated out into the hallway like a beacon. Neither parent had turned it on before they’d left the house and it wasn’t time for bed yet.

  They funneled through the doorway and found Julie seated on her bed as if waiting for them to arrive. Her eyes were still sleep-hollowed and she wore a menacing smile. She looked from one person to the other and grinned wider.

  “You brought everyone, I see.”

  The voice that came out of the little girl was not her own. It was the raspy, older voice that had come from her when she’d been pinned to the ceiling. Ellen grabbed John’s arm like it was a lifeline and looked to Father Simon for help.

  “We are going to have to tie her down,” he said his voice somber. “Use the bed sheets. They will be kinder to her.”

  They nodded. They approached her cautiously as her eyes followed their every move. It was like approaching a caged animal. They didn’t know how she was going to react or what she was going to do.

  Ellen tried to appeal to her daughter, or what little bit of her daughter was left. “Can you lay back down, little one? This won’t hurt for very long.”

  Those hollow eyes turned on her, eyes that were no longer the familiar green of her daughter’s eyes. They were closer to black now. “Your daughter isn’t here anymore, Ellen. Can I take a message?”

  The laughter that followed sent chills down all of their spines.

  “Tie her down quickly!” Father Simon instructed his voice strained. “You must restrain her now before she gets away from us.”

  The three of them pounced on her, pinning her to the bed. She struggled against them with a strength that didn’t belong to a seven-year-old. It took several minutes for them to secure her to the bed. But they got her secured. They had all sustained minor injuries but she was tied to the bed.

  “Is that all you have for me?” Julie yelled, but it was Margaret speaking now. There was no mistaking that.

  “Oh we have much more in stake for you.” Father Simon approached the end of the bed his stance determined. “You aren’t going to like what I have in store for you.”

  The other three moved away from the bed retreating towards the door for safety and to let the priest do what he needed to do.

  Ellen clasped John’s hand on one side and clasped Mrs. Bannerman’s hand on the other side. And then all they could do is stand and watch as Father Simon began to chant in Latin and gesture.

  Julie writhed on the bed, fighting against her bonds. Her face distorted as it went from grinning to grimacing. Objects around the room began to float and fly around. Pictures became airborne, smashing into the wall and shattering into multiple pieces. Toys careened through space.

  All the while Father Simon continued to speak and gesture.

  Julie screamed profanities, words that she wouldn’t even know, words that they weren’t even familiar with. She fought against the bonds. She thrashed back and forth. She screamed.

  “She’s fighting against Margaret,” Mrs. Bannerman explained. “This is good. This will be over soon.”

  Ellen nodded weakly. She couldn’t stand to see her daughter like this. She wanted to intervene. She wanted to run away. She wanted it to be over. That was the strongest emotion of all. She just wanted this all too end. She looked away from it. She couldn’t watch this anymore.

  When the coughing began she had to look back. She would have lunged forward if it weren’t for the two others holding her hands, holding her back.

  Julie bowed up against the bonds, her head held up and eyes glaring at them. She was coughing blood, sputtering it. It dripped down her mouth and onto her shirt. And all the while she was smiling.

  “You will never be rid of me,” she said through the blood before falling back against the sheets, her body now limp.

  Father Simon finished the last lines of his exorcism and lowered his hands. He was panting and the sweat gathered in droplets on his forehead. He moved away from the bed and leaned against the wall for support.

  “She should be fine now,” he said. “I suggest you try and wake her up now.”

  “I’ll take you downstairs, Father,” Mrs. Bannerman announced and went to escort the Father downstairs.

  John and Ellen approached the bed cautiously. They still were uncertain about what to expect. They untied the bonds on either side of her and rubbed circulation back into her hands and feet.

  Ellen ran a hand over her head. She was still breathing, but her breath was shallow, shaky. “Come on, little one. Wake up for us.”

  She shook her gently, trying to persuade her to wake up. They gave her some water to drink, lifting it to her lips only to have it pool and fall in a pinkish tinge onto the bed sheets.

  Ellen felt the panic rise inside of her. What had they done? What if she didn’t wake up?

  She shook her a little more forcefully. “Julie! Julie! Wake up!”

  The little girl lay still on the bed. Ellen looked at John, her eyes wide with panic and the fear choking her.

  “Call the ambulance!”

  It was two days later when they returned home from the hospital. Julie had been given a clean bill of health but they’d been given specific instructions to let her rest. After everything that had happened they didn’t think that would be a problem.

  It was nice to be home.

  That’s what it was. Even after all of the nonsense, Ellen still considered it home. She didn’t plan on leaving. As far as she was concerned the worst of it was behind them and they could move forward now. They had no direction to go but forward.

  She carried Julie into the house and up to her bed. It would be nice for her to sleep in her own bed for the first time in a few days. She’d been more like herself since waking up at the hospital. She’d been talkative. She’d been cheerful. She was the Julie that they both knew.

  Ellen laid her down in the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. She pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  “Sleep well, little one,” she whispered and watched the smile tug at her daughter’s lips. It was good to see her smile her own smile, not the twisted one that Margaret had forced there.

  Ellen stood up and walked to the dresser to switch on the nightlight. Her hand paused in the action and her head tilted in confusion.

  Sitting next to the nightlight was the antique candlestick phone, not a scratch on it.

  Ellen raised her eyes to the dresser mirror to look back at her daughter. But it wasn’t her daughter’s eyes that met hers in the reflection. It was Margaret’s eyes and Margaret’s smile.

  Ellen had a moment to gasp before the world went black.

  The Haunting of Pike House

  Prologue

  The Pike House

  Bridgewater, Somerset

  June 17, 1920

  * * *

  The house was beautiful. In a time when people could barely afford to feed their families Philip Pike had spared no expense on the construction of the Pike House. It’s red brick façade, four bedrooms, and slate roof stood out among the houses beside it making it a focal point for the small town. But it wasn’t his residence.

  No, Nancy thought as she stood on the street and stared up at the building. The house he’d built for his wife had been quite modest. This extravagant work was reserved for the whore that lived inside of it. Marlene Sharp, that was her name.

  Nancy didn’t call her a whore lightly. It had been almost five years now since the house had been built. Originally she had believed that she would move into it. That they would raise a family there. But she had been quickly put in her place.

  The house was for his mistress. The house was for Marlene Sharp. The woman he clearly cared for more than he did his own wife. He didn’t even visit her at night any more. He was gone most nights. No doubt he was gone to visit her.

  Nancy felt her fists clench at her sides. She knew that he was in there right now. She had waited. She had watched him leave the house as
this obnoxious hour, and she had followed him like she had been too scared to do any other night.

  It had been five years. Five years of the whole town knowing what was going one. Five years of everyone looking at her like she was some sad, helpless woman. Five years of her husband barely looking at her unless it was to tell her that she was wrong.

  She would not take it any longer.

  She was a good woman. She came from a good family. Her name meant something to people before Philip Pike had sullied it with his indiscretions that he barely tried to hide. Her family had power. That was, after all, why Philip had married her. He’d wanted a piece of that power. And apparently he’d wanted very little to do with her outside of her namesake.

  She stared up at the house and could feel the anger rise inside of her. She knew that he was in there. She had watched him go in. She had watched the lights turn off as he had gone from room to room. She knew exactly where he was. She knew exactly where to find him.

  She didn’t know just yet what she would do once she did but the weight of the revolver she had taken from his cabinet pulled at her shoulder.

  She’d fired a gun before. Her father had been sure that she knew how to use one. He’d made sure that every one of his children, regardless of their gender, could shoot straight and true. It had been his one goal. And she had made her father proud in that, and in all things.

  She pulled the strap of her purse a little higher up on her shoulder. It wasn’t meant for carrying such a weight. But she could handle it a little while longer and she was confident that the bag would hold. It wouldn’t take long for her to finish what she’d set out to do.

  She crossed the street slowly. Even though it was the early hours of the morning she still didn’t want to draw undue attention to herself. It wasn’t normal for a woman of her caliber to be wandering the streets unaccompanied. People would talk if they saw her. But people would be talking by tomorrow regardless, she was quite certain.

  The front door of the house was locked. She wasn’t surprised to find that. She doubted that anyone really used the front entrance. Perhaps if Marlene entertained, but who would visit her? She wasn’t anyone of reputation. Nancy didn’t know of anyone who claimed to be her friend.

  Everyone regarded her as Philip’s woman, Philip’s property. She was a pretty little doll that had been put up in a fancy house while his actual wife was handed scraps. That was what everyone in town thought.

  She knew it. She had heard the whispers. People tried to be discrete. They tried to keep things from her. But it was hard to ignore the looks that they gave her and not hear the things that were said.

  She would fix that tonight. She would fix everything.

  She rounded to the back of the house where she had seen Philip enter. She had a strong feeling that he wouldn’t have locked the door behind him. He could barely remember to close the door on his own home so she doubted that he would remember to lock the door of someone else’s.

  She approached the rear door as cautiously as she’d approached the front. She tested the large brass handle and felt it give without hesitation. She pushed the door open and it swung without protest.

  She’d never been inside the house. She knew that it would be beautiful. Philip didn’t do anything half way.

  Even with the lights out she could tell that the flooring beneath her feet was nice and that the carpets were plush. The dim light from outside let her see the rich wallpaper and fine furniture that lined the hallway. He had spared no expense when thinking about his mistress. He’d doted upon her. That was clear in how things shone even in the dim light.

  Nancy’s lip curled at the thought of it.

  She didn’t love Philip. It had been a marriage of convenience that had born them no children and nothing but hate. She’d been willing to try at least. She was willing to do her job as a wife. He was barely willing to do his as a husband. He would much rather come here at night and be with her.

  Nancy heard the floor creak above her and she cast her gaze upwards. She knew where they were. She knew what they would be doing.

  She told herself that she was prepared to see Philip with someone else. She told herself that she had to see it with her own eyes in order for it to be real. But part of her, a strong part of her, wanted to turn tail and run. She wanted to continue to live in denial about her life. She wanted to stay in her little house, with her group of friends, and just wait for fate to take its course.

  She drew in a deep breath and felt the familiar rage fill her. She was here for a reason. This was her revenge. This was her justice. And she wouldn’t back out of it now.

  She took the stairs with intention. She knew what room they would be in, but even if she hadn’t all she would have had to do was follow the noise.

  Her nose curled at the noises coming from behind the closed doors. They didn’t sound like the noises of two people making love. They were grunts and groans, they were animal-like. She almost took a step back not wanting to go any further, but again the rage filled her.

  This was her justice and she would be damned if she didn’t have it.

  She shoved the door open and enjoyed the thud it made as it hit the wall behind it. She heard Marlene squeak in surprise as she rolled off of Philip and clenched the sheet to her naked chest. Her black hair was a mess of curls around her face and her skin was flushed.

  Philip sat up, the sheets pooling at his waist and his face red with exertion and now anger.

  “What the hell!” His eyes widened at the sight of Nancy who now had the revolver in hand and pointed square at his chest. “Nancy? Now, be reasonable, darling. This isn’t what it looks like.”

  “Oh please, Philip. As if anyone has ever believed that line.” She pulled back the hammer and placed her finger on the trigger. “This is exactly what it looks like.”

  Marlene barely had time to scream as Philip’s limp body fell into her lap before the second bullet hit her.

  Nancy took a moment to observe her work. The blood was pooling on the crisp, clean sheets and their bodies were already losing colour. And like the blood leaving their body she felt the anger leave hers. She felt the guilt and the shame wash over her like a tidal wave.

  “What have I done?” She muttered to herself before she pressed the barrel to her own head.

  Chapter 1

  Changes

  * * *

  The Pike House

  Bridgewater, Somerset

  June 20, 2017

  * * *

  Life is full of changes. Marie had always known that. Her life had certainly taken some unexpected turns over the years. She hadn’t expected to be where she was right now twenty years ago when she’d finished her doctorate and started teaching. She’d never expected to be a stay-at-home mom. But life had a funny way of working out even when it got flipped on its head. And she was certain that was going to be how everything happened this time.

  She didn’t really want to uproot their kids and move to Bridgewater. If it wasn’t a family matter she would have said no to the move the moment Eric suggested it, but there were things a person just had to do for family. And she wasn’t about to let Eric abandon his mother. What kind of wife would that make her? What kind of person?

  She glanced at her children, all piled into the back seat of their car. It was cramped and she knew that they really needed to change to something bigger, but it was so rare that everyone was in the vehicle together. The three faces stared back at her and they all bore the same glum expressions.

  None of them were impressed about the move. Well, Paul was only 2, he hadn’t really formed an opinion about much. But he wasn’t impressed about being stuck in the car with his sisters Laura and Rachel. And both girls were rather unhappy with their mother at the moment.

  Marie was aware of it. The Hyatt family was not a cheerful one at the moment but she was set on fixing that once they got settled. She was not going to put up with a bunch of glum children all summer. Now that school was out she was not
going to be stuck with a household that moped around and had sad faces.

  She glanced over at her husband, Eric, who was currently driving the car. They weren’t far from Bridgewater now. It would be less than ten minutes before they arrived at his mother’s house and even his face was set in sad lines.

  She reached over and gave his leg a reassuring pat, offering a smile to go along with it. “I’m sure it’ll all work out fine, darling.”

  He offered a faint smile in return. “I wish I could be so sure. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in that house.” His smile fell away from his face. “I wasn’t in a huge hurry to go back.”

  “Is that why Shannon always came to our house for the holidays?” Marie said, her voice joking. But Eric’s face was still somber and she was beginning to feel a chill creep up her spine.

  “There’s something about that house, Marie.” He turned his attention back to the road. “It’s hard to explain. You didn’t grow up there.”

  “No, I grew up in Bristol. I’m not really sure what your point is on this Eric.” She rolled her eyes and leaned back in the passenger’s seat.

  “Let’s hope you never learn is really all I have to say on the matter.” He set his jaw on that fact and continued to drive.

  Marie wasn’t certain what had gotten into him. Eric was a pediatrician, a man of science, and yet he was acting oddly superstitious all of the sudden. He never spoke about his childhood. He never talked about the house that he’d been raised in. She hadn’t pushed about it. If he didn’t want to talk about his past that was just fine. But now he was just being strange.

  “Are we there yet?” Laura chimed in from the backseat her displeasure at being stuck between her two younger siblings clear in her voice.

  Marie glanced back at her trying her best to paint a sympathetic expression on her face for her first born. “In a few more minutes, Laura. Can you last that long?”