by Amy Cross
And then, with no warning, he heard someone knocking on the door. He froze, uncertain as to whether or not he should answer, but a moment later there was another knock. Making his way cautiously to the hallway, he looked through and saw a pale shape on the other side of the frosted glass, with a hint of red in the center. Whoever it was, it definitely wasn't a policeman, and he figured he couldn't hide forever. After taking a deep breath, he made his way over.
“Hey,” Alison said with a smile, as soon as John opened the door. She was wearing a cream sweater with a big ladybird on the front. “Long time, stranger.”
Startled, he stared at her for a moment. He'd spent the morning tidying the house, lost in his own thoughts... or at least that was what he told himself. For a moment, he felt as if maybe there was something he'd forgotten, as if his mind had divided into two completely separate halves, but that sensation passed quickly enough. Instead, he focused on the surprise of seeing Alison standing in front of him. After all, she was one of his few friends, or at least she had been, back when he still had friends, back in his school days.
“Are you gonna invite me in?” she asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow, “or do I have to force my way through the door? Which, to be fair, wouldn't be so easy after my recent op.” She looked down at his foot. “Are you limping?”
“Oh, it's nothing,” he replied. “I just hurt my toe when...” Pausing, he realized he didn't remember how he'd hurt it. “It's nothing. Come in.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Today
“No, Reginald, it's okay,” Hannah said, with the phone against the side of her face as she led Sarah and Scott across the dark street, “we've found it just fine. Thanks for your help.”
Cutting the call, she passed the phone back to Sarah, while staring up at the dark house that towered above them.
“Now this looks more like a haunted house,” she said with a faint smile, admiring the bay windows and the high, pointed ceiling. After a moment, she turned to Sarah again. “Don't you think so? The house on Everley Street just seems a little modern and boring, but this one, this one I can really see having a few ghosts. All we're really missing is some thunder and lightning, maybe some atmospheric rain...”
“Are you sure this is the place?” Sarah asked, staring up at the house with a hint of fear in her eyes.
“John bought this place three years ago,” Hannah explained. “That's what his lawyer says, anyway. Did he never mention it to you?”
“It's starting to look like there's a lot he never mentioned to me.”
“It seems he's been planning this little spree for a while,” Hannah continued, “buying up the houses where he lived as a child. And this place...” She paused for a moment. “From birth to the age of nine, Jonathan Myers lived in this house with his mother. And then she died one night, supposedly after drinking a bottle of bleach, and he went to live with his grandmother.”
“Do you really think he's here right now?” Sarah continued.
“I think there's a very, very good chance.”
“Stay here,” Sarah told Hannah. “Keep an eye on Scott.”
“No way.”
“I'm serious!”
“So am I!” Hannah replied. “I'm not the one who stays outside where it's safe, I'm the one who goes inside and sorts things out.”
“My daughter might be in there!”
“And I'll bring her out,” Hannah said firmly, before making her way up the steps toward the dark front door. “Trust me, this is what I do, it's my job. I fix deaths that have gone wrong.”
“Are Dad and Katie really in there?” Scott asked, looking up at his mother.
“I don't know, honey,” she whispered.
“We have to go inside,” he continued. “We have to save Katie.”
“Save her?” Sarah paused. “We have to find her first, but I don't think -”
“Come on,” Scott said firmly, taking her by the hand and leading her after Hannah, who was already at the door.
“You have to stay behind me,” Sarah told her son, “and do exactly what I tell you at all times, is that understood? I'm not going to let you argue with me here. This is just how it's going to be.”
“The door's unlocked,” Hannah muttered, gently pushing against the handle and causing the door to slowly swing open. “Still think no-one has come this way in the past few hours?”
“John!” Sarah shouted, pushing past her and hurrying into the dark hallway. “Katie!”
“No reply,” Hannah continued, stepping over to join her and looking up toward the top of the stairs. “Either they left, or...”
“Or what?” Sarah asked.
Hannah turned to her. “Or this is the part where you wait down here and I go up to fix everything.”
“But -”
“You have to stay behind me,” Hannah continued, “and do exactly what I tell you at all times, is that understood? Seriously, you can't argue with me here, that's just how it's going to be.”
“That's exactly what you said to me,” Scott said, nudging his mother's arm.
“Is my husband really insane?” Sarah asked, looking around for a moment before turning back to Hannah. “Please, tell me this is all some kind of joke.”
“It's all some kind of joke,” Hannah said flatly. “Oh, wait, no, that's a big stinking lie. Sorry.”
“He's not like this,” Sarah continued. “He's a good person, an honest person, he'd never hurt anyone!”
“Of course not,” Hannah replied, heading to the stairs and starting to make her way up to the landing. “The everyday John Myers wouldn't hurt a fly, because he put all his hatred and rage into a second version of himself, and it's that version that does things like walling his granny up in the basement. Kind of efficient, really. You almost have to respect him.”
“Do you think Katie's okay?” Scott whispered to Sarah as they followed Hannah upstairs.
“I'm sure she's fine,” Sarah replied, her voice filled with tension. “Your father wouldn't let anything happen to her. We're just overreacting.”
“Empty landing,” Hannah said, looking both ways for a moment before heading off to the left, “with all the doors open except for one at the far end. If you ask me -”
Stopping suddenly, she looked at one of the doors. Pushing it open, she looked into the dark bathroom. “This is where it happened,” she muttered.
“Where what happened?” Sarah asked.
For a moment, Hannah watched as she saw a dark shape on the floor, and in the back of her mind she heard a loud scream.
“This is where John's grandmother murdered his mother,” she whispered, “and made it look like suicide.”
Sarah stared at her. “No. That's not possible.”
“Elizabeth was one twisted old woman,” Hannah continued. “She expected great things of her daughter, and when she realized she wasn't shaping up, she decided to get rid of her and start again, this time with John. She threw her own daughter away like a doll.” She paused, before pulling the door shut. Turning, she spotted John's unconscious body on the floor, just inside one of the nearby doors. Hurrying over, she dropped to her knees before checking for a pulse and then gently nudging the side of his face.
“John!” Sarah called out, hurrying over and kneeling on the other side of her husband. “John, are you okay? Where's Katie?”
“He's not responding,” Hannah muttered, nudging his face again. “Either he's been knocked out, or he's entered some kind of psychological breakdown phase.” She paused, before slapping the side of his face as hard as she could manage. “Wake up!” she yelled.
Gasping, John opened his eyes.
“Excellent,” Hannah continued, “he was just knocked out.”
“Katie!” John stammered, sitting up and looking around.
“We know everything,” Sarah told him. “About your grandmother, about the basement...”
“What about Katie?” he asked, before getting to his feet and looking out into the corri
dor, where he saw Scott staring at him. “Where is she?”
“Isn't she with you?” Sarah asked.
“She was, but -” Slowly, he turned and looked toward the closed door at the far end of the landing.
“She's in there,” Hannah said firmly, stepping past him and staring at the door for a moment. “And she's not alone.”
John paused. “What do you -”
“I've got some bad news for you,” Hannah continued, turning to him. “This might come as a shock, but I'm afraid your grandmother is dead.”
He frowned.
“Really dead this time,” she added, “not fake dead, not dead as in just bricked up in the basement of the house on Everley Street. She's really, finally dead, and that means she's really, finally dangerous because now she actually is a ghost, and now...” She paused, before turning back to look at the closed door. “I'm not excusing anything you did, John, but your grandmother was bad when she was alive and she's worse now. She murdered your mother, for one thing, but then I've got a feeling that you suspected that. After all, you heard the screams from your bedroom when you were a boy.”
“Wait,” he replied, “how do you know all of this? You're just...” His voice trailed off for a moment.
“Just what?” she asked, stepping toward the door.
“Well, you're just some girl I met at a cafe and then at a book club.”
“Cute,” she whispered, turning and pressing her right ear against the door. “I'm way more than just some girl you met at a cafe. To start with, I came here specifically to sort this mess out, and then there's also the fact that I -”
Before she could finish, she heard a loud bumping sound. The door shuddered and she took a step back.
“What the hell was that?” Sarah asked, before hurrying forward. “Katie!”
“Don't!” Hannah said firmly, reaching out and putting a hand on Sarah's chest, to hold her back. “This is a very delicate situation and you really need to leave it to me.”
“My daughter -”
“Will be fine, if you just do what I say and leave it to me.” Hannah stared at the door for a moment, before reaching down and turning the handle. “You all might want to look away right now,” she continued. “Either that, or get very good, very fast, at not screaming.”
She paused, before nudging the door and causing it to slowly creak open, revealing the dark room beyond. In the center of the room, barely visible in the low light, Katie was sitting on a chair with her eyes closed.
“Katie!” Sarah shouted, rushing forward before Hannah once again held her back. “Let me get to her!”
“Not yet,” Hannah said firmly.
“Why not? She's just sitting there!”
“She's not just sitting there.”
“What...” Sarah paused, looking around at the darkness. “What do you mean? There's no-one else here!”
“Can't you see John's grandmother?” Hannah asked, her eyes widening with horror. “That's good, because I can see her and trust me, it's not a pretty sight.”
Stepping forward, she kept her eyes fixed on the scene ahead. While the others could only see Katie on the chair, Hannah could see that old woman sitting right next to her, with her arms around the trembling child and one hand on her neck, holding her tenderly but with a hint of menace..
“What's going on in there?” John asked, joining Sarah in the doorway. “What's wrong with her?”
“Just wait,” Sarah told him.
“But -”
Grabbing his arm, Sarah forced him to stay back. “Trust Hannah.”
Approaching the chair, Hannah looked more closely at Elizabeth's withered hand, which was holding Katie's neck tightly. She paused for a moment, seeing the fear in the little girl's eyes.
“It's okay, Katie,” she said finally with a faint, forced smile. “I'm here to put things right.”
Katie was staring at her, but tears were running down her cheeks and her whole body was shaking. After a moment, however, she glanced up at Elizabeth before closing her eyes.
“You can see her too, can't you?” Hannah continued. “That's why you've got your eyes closed. That's good, that's smart. Just keep them like that and I'll see what I can do here, okay?” Crouching in front of the chair, she looked up at Elizabeth's face and saw dark eyes filled with pure hatred. “Hello, Elizabeth,” she said after a moment. “I'm here to help you, because I've got a feeling you're a little lost right now. It's not much fun being newly dead, is it?”
“They're all useless,” Elizabeth whispered, staring at the little girl's face. “Just a waste of breath.”
“You've got your voice back,” Hannah replied. “I guess that's one plus point.”
“I don't know what's wrong with them. I did my best, I raised them to be good, strong people, and they just became disasters, the lot of them. Pathetic weaklings.”
“You don't really think that, do you?”
“My own daughter was an idiot,” Elizabeth continued. “I couldn't even beat an ounce of sense into her. You have no idea how hard I worked to make her better, but it was a waste of my time. I had to put her out of her misery in the end, but I thought at least I had a chance to get that boy Jonathan on the right path, but he was even worse. Weak-willed and spineless, that's his problem. He never understood that I was just trying to toughen him up.”
“By punching him?” Hannah asked. “By stubbing out cigarettes on his back? By telling him he was worthless and by fracturing his soul so badly that he had to become two people?”
“Excuses.”
“Maybe.” Hannah paused. “You don't want to hurt Katie, though, do you? She's your great-granddaughter. What did she ever do to upset you?”
“She's like him,” Elizabeth hissed, squeezing the girl's throat a little tighter. “They're all just a disgrace to the family name.”
“But if -”
“He left me down there to die!” the old woman continued, turning to Hannah. Her eyes were black as night, leaking dark tears that ran down her ravaged face. “I didn't die, though. I refused. I found a way. I ate rats and I drank filthy water that leaked through the ceiling. I couldn't speak when I was alive, the stroke robbed me of that, and I was too weak to even get anyone to hear me, but I refused to die. That boy has to pay for what he did to me.”
“You're dead,” Hannah replied. “You don't get to decide who pays for what.”
“Don't you dare tell me what I can and can't do,” Elizabeth hissed, squeezing Katie's throat again, causing the girl to let out a pained gasp. “You don't know anything! You don't even -”
“I know why your daughter really died,” Hannah said firmly, interrupting her. “John's mother. I know she didn't really drink bleach to kill herself. I know you forced it down her throat -”
“No!”
“I was there.”
Elizabeth paused, her features flickering with memories of that moment.
“I was there,” Hannah explained. “There are rules about intervening, so I couldn't do anything to stop you. Nowadays things would be different, I don't stick to the rules so much anymore, but back then... Back then I just sat in the corner and sobbed as I watch what you were doing.”
“You're a dirty liar!” Elizabeth hissed.
“Am I?” As if to prove her point, a scream erupted from the corner of the room. Hannah and Elizabeth both turned to see two spectral forms shimmering in the dark: Elizabeth, a little younger than when she'd died, pouring a bottle into the mouth of a sobbing middle-aged woman. It was the same scene that Katie had witnessed earlier in the bathroom. “We both know I'm not lying,” Hannah continued, watching with stony-faced anger as the scene briefly played out, before the two spectral figures faded. She turned back to Elizabeth. “You murdered your own daughter.”
“I put her out of her misery,” Elizabeth whispered, looking down at Katie's terrified face.
“You gave up on her,” Hannah continued. “You decided she wasn't good enough, so you wanted to get rid of her
and start again with her son, except he wasn't good enough either, was he? You warped his mind and you'd have killed him too if that stroke hadn't interrupted. And now what, is Katie the third try? Maybe you should just accept that none of these children can live up to your impossible standards. Your long, bitter life is over, Elizabeth. All that's left now is for you to go into the light and see what's waiting for you on the other side.”
“Leave me alone,” she hissed, causing Katie to gasp again as she began to crush her throat.
“You're holding her very tightly,” Hannah replied, watching as Katie struggled for breath. “You're actually causing several bones in her neck to bend slightly. Any more pressure, and they'll start to break. Is that what you want?”
“I want one of these children to live up to my expectations,” Elizabeth replied, squeezing harder. “I want them to stop being so weak!”
“No,” Hannah said firmly, reaching out and grabbing the old woman's hands. “You don't get to do that. Children aren't projects you can toss away if they don't work out the way you wanted.” Taking hold of Elizabeth's hands, she began to peel the old woman's fingers back one by one, forcing her to let go of Katie's throat. “You're dead Elizabeth,” she hissed, “and that's a big problem for you, because it means you're in my realm now, and you can't bully me. You're going exactly where I want you to go, and the more you try to fight back, the more you annoy me. Is that something you really want to do? Are you so stupid, so utterly idiotic, that you're going to annoy me on purpose? Because let me tell you, you're already well along that particular path.”