The Middle House: Return to Cold Creek Hollow (Haunted Series)

by Alexie Aaron

  “Your strength of will kept you sane,” Mia observed.

  Alice stopped walking and turned to look at Mia. “Thank you for that. I appreciate your words, and I see you mean them. This touches me. I have misjudged you.”

  “Me? How?”

  “I’ve seen you here each time you visited Cold Creek Hollow. I thought you a silly little thing. The way you have to have a man around, living or dead, all the time. In my opinion, this demeans you, makes you appear weak, but you’re not weak are you?”

  “It depends on how you determine strength,” Mia replied. “For the record, I like men. I love them, dead or alive. If you consider this a weakness, then I accept being weak. I have not always chosen correctly the men I’ve asked into my bed, but I assure you the ones I call friends make me stronger, not weaker.”

  Murphy looked at Mia and weighed her words.

  Alice watched while a wave of emotion washed over Murphy and disappeared as quickly as it came. This man, she thought, isn’t Mia’s weakness, but she is his. How many others share his obsession?

  ~

  “Really wish we had a camera with us,” Burt said as they walked into the hollow at the edge of the graveyard.

  “Here,” Ted said, reaching into his pocket. He opened his hand, and in it were two GoPro cameras. “Clip these on. I’ve adjusted them so they are sound-activated. They will pretty much be on all the time unless you manually shut them off.”

  Burt stopped and looked over at the break in the hedge towards the ruins of the church.

  Mike patted him on the back. “You survived, buddy, remember that.”

  Ted remembered too well that fateful afternoon when the three of them, against Mia’s caution, climbed down into the ruins of the church. Unseen hands took hold of Burt, sending him to the hospital and leaving him nightmares that he never fully extinguished.

  Cid, who had taken the scout position, signaled for them to stop talking. He motioned for them to hide. The team spread out and used the more massive monuments as cover.

  Two armed guards walked by, their boots crunching on the gravel shoulder of the road heading towards the gate. Ted saw that they were wearing clothing very similar to what he’d seen SWAT team members wear in the movies. He reminded himself that the assault rifles they carried were armed with real bullets. These weren’t actors; no one was going to have another take once a bullet found a target.

  The large marble monument that hid Ted from the eyes of the guards was scorched. He ran his hand along the edges remembering the last time he and former investigator Beth stood there with a pile of mummified corpses in front of them. Ted remembered how fast the remains caught fire. The flamethrower sparked a blaze so hot that even the large bones were reduced to ash. Deputy Tom had taken the weapon to the cave under the ruins of the church to deal with the last entity that had used the power of the hollow to rise again. Ted wondered if Steele was aware he was being used by the witch from the swamp. Did the hag’s power generate any kind of buffer between the subconscious and the conscious? True, Steele didn’t need any prodding to do evil; he was probably born corrupted. But still, how much did the area have to do with the continual problems of Cold Creek Hollow’s residents?

  “All clear,” Cid hissed.

  The plan was to cause some kind of a commotion to lure the guards away from the middle house so Mike, Burt, Cid and Ted could get inside and search the place. Lorna had volunteered to lead the men away, but when Ryan’s eyes lit upon Angelo’s chauffeur, a better plan came to mind. When he shared it, Lorna acquiesced, volunteering to stand down for the moment. Tonia left with her partner, mentioning something about how a sweat lodge wasn’t going to build itself. Ted puzzled over this a moment, but since it didn’t seem to have anything to do with the rescue mission, he filed it away with the other oddities of the day.

  Their job was to get as close to the houses as they could without being discovered. Ryan instructed them to wait until the diversion he was going to create rid the area of guards. Phones were set on vibrate, and text screens were to be monitored for updates and instructions.

  Ted rued that there wasn’t time to go back and equip the PEEPs team properly with communication devices. An ear com would be nice if they got separated from each other. They would move in twos through the house. Burt and Mike were team one. He and Cid would be the second team in. They got as far as the shed beside the brick house that shared a property line with the graveyard and the middle house before settling in to wait for Ryan.

  ~

  Mrs. Blackwell’s skirts brushed the stone floor as she walked over to Audrey and Father Santos.

  “I hear you’re having trouble keeping your chair on four legs,” she said, squatting, taking hold the chair and jerking it and Father Santos upright. She dragged the priest a few feet away from Audrey. “There, that has you settled.”

  Audrey knew Mrs. Blackwell was an apparition, but she had solidity and strength comparable to a living person.

  “You’re not the sensitive we planned for, but you’ll do fine for Brentwood, I think. He’s on his way. Evidently the town has closed in around him, poor dear. He’s not used to Midwesterners. Had he asked my opinion, I would have told him that he can’t simply flash money around and get what he wants. This isn’t the city after all.”

  “You seem to have experience in the city,” Audrey observed.

  “Long, long, long time ago, dear. It was a time of robber barons and peasants in this country. No middle class to mess things up by questioning the motives of the rich. My husband and his cronies simply spent a few dollars and their problems disappeared. Now, you can’t bribe an official without a lot of effort. Brentwood is exhausted and dejected. Playing with you should revive him.”

  “I’d sooner die,” Audrey said.

  “Oh you will die, but slowly,” Mrs. Blackwell informed her.

  “Madam, do you think you could afford us some water?” Father Santos asked.

  “No.”

  “Well, I’m shocked. Where is your hospitality? You were known far and wide for your teas and supper parties. They said there was no better hostess than Mrs. Blackwell.”

  Audrey watched as Santos’s flattery momentarily swayed the skin-walker.

  “Yes, I did lay a good table. The teas, well, one did have to put up with the ladies and their gossip. Alice May had no patience for their drivel, not that I blame her. The conversations ranged from banal to twaddle in nature. But as a good hostess, I turned a deaf ear to them. Instead I listened to the voices in my head, telling me how to use the creatures to my best advantage.”

  Audrey watched the thing that used to be a woman of high standing boast about her conquests. She also watched Father Santos as he leaned forward and dangled his cross into his hand. He struggled but managed to open the back of the cross, and a little blade fell out into the palm of his hand. He angled the blade towards the rope holding his wrist to the chair and began to move the blade back and forth. Audrey knew she needed to keep the entity’s attention on her.

  “Tell me, Mrs. Blackwell, about your family. I understand you had two daughters.”

  “Yes, the eldest made for a good marriage. Mr. Blackwell was quite pleased. She produced two children before her husband’s attention wandered to seducing the children’s nannies. However, they all do it. Might as well supply the cocks with clean hens. Wouldn’t want to have them whoring around with the waterfront hussies and bring home their diseases. My mother told me when my father tried to put his syphilis-ridden appendage in her, she cut it off at the root. He bled to death. She was sent to the nuthouse. Her money came to me, and in turn, Mr. Blackwell.”

  Audrey, although sickened by the subject matter, couldn’t help but see Mrs. Blackwell’s history was vastly different than the regency novels she poured over as a young woman. Being rich had its problems.

  The sharp blade cut through the rope quickly. Santos had both hands free by the time Mrs. Blackwell turned her attention back to him. He replaced his hands
on the arms of the chair as if they were still bound.

  “Priest. You will get your water. I don’t want it said that one of my guests left here parched.”

  The skin-walker left the chamber. Father Santos cut through the ropes at his ankles and rushed over to Audrey to free her.

  “Quick, we must get up those steps before she returns. I fear no amount of flattery will replace her wrath once she’s figured out she’s been tricked,” he said, replacing the blade in his cross.

  “Father, do all priests, have knives in their crosses?” Audrey whispered her question as they approached the door.

  “Only if they’re friends with Father Alessandro,” he said and led her into the darkness of the stairwell.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Tonia ran past the driver as she headed to the road and over to where the LQ trailer was parked. She extracted the small, rounded tent Lorna had specially made and an assortment of herbs and scented wood chips before heading back to the farm.

  The driver was met by Angelo. Their conversation was witnessed by Lorna who stood just outside of hearing distance, waiting until they had finished their business. When they had finished, she approached the tall Italian and asked, “Mr. Michaels, may I have a few moments of your time?”

  Angelo nodded and walked over to her, stopping briefly to watch as his chauffeur drove the long black sedan down the drive before putting his foot on the accelerator and taking off, leaving a dust cloud behind him. He was followed by Ryan and Tom in their respective cruisers.

  “Yes, how can I be of help?” Angelo asked, giving the woman his full attention.

  “Are you familiar with deer-women?”

  “They are dangerous creatures, especially to men. I believe they hold the distinction of being the only entity that can conquer a skin-walker.”

  “You’re well informed. A deer-woman lives in my body. She was born into me, and when I die, she will pass to another unless our line has died off. We are mortally tied. If she dies, I will die. There is no Lorna without the deer-woman and no deer-woman without me. Just as you have birdman DNA, I have deer-woman.”

  “I understand. I may look like a big oaf, but I assure you I’m not a simpleton. You do not have to spell things out for me,” Angelo said with irritation.

  “Sorry,” Lorna said lamely. “I’m going to enter a sweat lodge and call the deer-woman forth. Please do me the honor of having my back when I’m in this state of being? I’m told I am vicious and irrational.”

  “Who told you this?”

  “Tonia.”

  “Why are you asking me and not her?”

  “Tonia’s mission will be to keep the box safe. You have to stay away from the box. Even if I die, you must not open the box. It will be disastrous for mankind. She will die before she lets you have it. Tonia is most skilled. She will possibly best you in battle.”

  “I don’t have to tell you how this enflames my anger. Why do you and the sages underestimate my self-control?”

  “The sages and the Council of Women know about your weaknesses, and they know about your strengths. Let me explain. They know you will do anything to win; this is both your strength and your weakness. It is better we lose a battle than for you to take the power onto yourself in the guise of saving the day.”

  Angelo nodded. “I see the wisdom in this. I will not take the box. It can’t leave the area because the magic which binds the demon will be ineffectual.”

  “That’s true. Do you know what it took to bind the demon?”

  “I understand many of your people died.”

  “It cost the people a village. Men, women and children. The price was paid, and the demon rested until Steele and his group built those houses.”

  “There was a witch who controlled Steele at one time. Was she being controlled by the demon?”

  “No, I don’t think so. This place,” Lorna said, moving her hand around her as she spoke, “is full of power. There is a ley line vortex there, for example.” She pointed past the woodpile. “The ground is full of natural power, magnetic and otherwise. Limestone generates a lot of paranormal power. Cold Creek Hollow was built over ground riddled with caves made up of this rock. It is very possible for two, three, six beings tapping into this power at once without any awareness of each other. Focused on their hate, they could have passed each other in the night and not have been aware of the other with the exception of a slight power drain,” she explained. “Out in Monument Valley, there are a dozen or more spirits that exist there without knowledge of the other.”

  Angelo shook his head in disagreement. He wasn’t buying her explanation.

  “You live in the city, do you not?” she asked.

  “Yes, I live in the penthouse of a high-rise.”

  “Does your neighbor below you know you’re a birdman? Do you know that neighbor flunked the third grade and had to repeat it in 1967? Have you noticed that one whole floor of your building is vacant?”

  Realization came over Angelo. “I see what you’re saying. If people can exist beside each other without interrelating then so can ghosts, demons and whatnot.”

  “I believe you and I fall into the whatnot category,” Lorna teased.

  “But what magnificent whatnots we are.” Angelo flexed his muscles.

  “Hell of a time to be comparing gym bods,” Tonia said, startling both of them. She stood there out of breath, holding the sweat lodge materials.

  “How did she?” Angelo asked.

  “Hell if I know? She’s light on her feet,” Lorna said simply. She opened up her arms, and Tonia dumped the large load into them. “Go to the barn, Ton,” she ordered.

  Tonia left without a word. Angelo watched the woman run towards the barn.

  “Come, Birdman, we have a spirit to call,” Lorna urged.

  Angelo nodded and reached out to take some of the load. Lorna smiled when her load was lightened, but at the same time, feared her burden would never be.

  ~

  “Are you taking us on a snipe hunt?” Mia asked Alice. “We’ve been walking forever.”

  Alice turned around and smiled. “I assure you I haven’t seen a snipe around here in some time. I’m taking you probably the most indirect route, in hopes of avoiding my mother or one of her chatty minions.”

  “Can I ask how there are so many, er, minions here?”

  “You can ask, but I haven’t a clue.”

  Mia looked at Murphy, and he shrugged.

  They followed the spinster through a maze of dark corridors. Just as Mia thought she had mapped out the course, Alice backtracked.

  “Someone’s coming. Quick, hide in here,” she said, lifting a tapestry covering a small alcove.

  Mia and Murphy moved inside.

  Alice calmed herself and continued walking. Around the corner came an angry woman.

  “Mother, whatever is wrong? Can I be of help?”

  Mrs. Blackwell didn’t question why her daughter was there. She just thrust a tray containing a pitcher of water and two goblets at her. Alice balanced the tangible items with much difficulty.

  “Try not to break them. Take them down to the center cave. Our guests are thirsty. Don’t untie them; they are dangerous,” she warned.

  “Why do we have dangerous people in the cave?” Alice asked.

  “It’s really none of your business. Just do as you’re told,” her mother said and moved past her quickly.

  “You can come out now. Here,” she thrust the tray at Mia. It passed through her much to Alice’s surprise. Murphy grabbed it before the woman let go and the items crashed to the floor.

  “What are you?” she asked again, this time frightened.

  “Not a ghost,” Mia replied. “I’m not sure how to explain me. My body is alive and my soul is here.”

  “Sounds disgusting,” Alice said. “Why the hell would anyone want to do that?”

  Mia was lost for words.

  Murphy said, “Speed.”

  Alice nodded and said, “Well, let’s
use some of that speed. I now know where your friends are being held. Follow me.”

  Alice turned around and headed down a hall that appeared before their eyes. She stopped and waited until a stairway appeared. “Never go up, always go down,” she instructed.

  They followed her down the stone steps and into a lit chamber. Two empty chairs greeted them. Murphy set the tray on the ground and moved and examined the ropes.

  “Been cut.”

  “How?” Alice asked, not really needing an answer. “Where?”

  “What happens if someone takes the stairs up?” Mia asked.

  “They go down,” Alice answered.

  “Then I expect Father Santos and Audrey have gone down.”

  “I can’t go with you,” Alice said and turned on her heel. “I’ll give you ten minutes before I sound the alarm,” she said over her shoulder, leaving the room.

  Mia looked at Murphy who checked his watch, noting the time. “I guess we’re on our own. Come on.”

  She entered the stairwell and started up the stairs.

  ~

  “How deep down were we, Father? We’ve been climbing for fifteen minutes. When are these stairs going to end?” Audrey complained, shining her out of reception area cell phone to light their way.

  “Stop, let me rest a moment,” Santos requested.

  Audrey backed down the stairs and sat next to the priest. She turned off the phone to save the batteries. Audrey didn’t know how old Santos was, but she knew if her legs were burning from fatigue, his must be sore too.

  They sat looking down the dark stairway while they caught their breath. Audrey saw a greenish light moving their way up the stairs. It was upon them before she could get to her feet to run.

  CRACK!

  “Oh my God! Sorry Father, it’s Murphy!” she exclaimed. “I can’t see more than a green light. How about you?”

  The priest put his hand in front of his face and removed it. “I see a man carrying an axe and a blur beside him.