The Haunting of Wiley Manor

by Jason Spectre

  The Haunting of Wiley Manor

  A Clean Mail Order Bride Western Romance

  Jason Spectre

  Clean Stories Publishing

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

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  Prologue

  Wiley Manor, 1967

  The shivering child sat naked on a wooden chair, his hands, feet and chest bound to it. Tears ran down his face, but his sobs had mostly given way to the occasional whimper. His dark hair stuck up in tufts and his body had a grimy look about it.

  He had never felt so scared and alone as he did now. At first, he had known his mummy or daddy would come for him. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t know how long he had been here, but he knew it had been a long time. Too long. Long enough for his ribs to be visible and his spine to stand out.

  The boy didn’t know where he was. All he knew was the room consisted of a bare concrete floor, the hard wooden chair, his toilet bucket and a grubby mattress and blanket.

  The walls were bare too except for the drawings. They were covered in blood red symbols. Symbols the boy had never seen before and didn’t understand. The symbols made the boy afraid. When he looked at them, he felt a presence in the room with him. And he was sure he had heard whisperings a few times, though they were never quite loud enough for him to make out the words.

  The man who came to see him scared him more than anyone he had ever met. It wasn’t that the man was cruel; he wasn’t. It was more something in his eyes. Something an adult would have described as evil, but the boy had no word for.

  The man came a lot with food and water. He brought the boy fresh clothes sometimes and emptied the bucket he used to go to the bathroom.

  The last time had been different though. The man had appeared as he often did. The hungry boy felt a sinking feeling when he saw the man was empty handed.

  “Strip,” the man had commanded. The boy had hesitated. This was new. Normally when he was told to strip, the man had new clothes for him. Sometimes even a bucket of warm water and a sponge.

  The boy cowered away on his mattress, clutching the blanket to his skinny chest.

  “Don’t make have to ask you twice,” the man said. His voice was filled with a quiet authority that terrified the boy much more than shouting would have done.

  The boy swallowed hard and threw the blanket off. He quickly removed the trousers and jumper he’d been given and handed them to the man. The man continued to wait, his hand held out. Reluctantly, the boy removed his vest, underwear and socks and handed them over.

  The man turned and left without another word. The boy curled up underneath the blanket, willing himself to fall asleep, but the fear he had felt, a new, deeper fear, prevented him from getting the oblivion sleep would bring him.

  The man had come back. The boy wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he didn’t think it was a lot. The man had walked over to the mattress.

  “Get up,” he commanded.

  The boy stood up, the blanket wrapped around him.

  “Drop it,” the man said.

  The boy did as he was told. The man took his hand and led him to the wooden chair. He gently but firmly pushed the boy into the chair. The boy’s eyes widened with fear when he saw the lengths of rope the man carried.

  “Don’t make me have to hurt you,” the man said, his tone casual but cold. So cold. The boy had no doubt in his mind that the man would hurt him badly if he tried to resist. He couldn’t have resisted him anyway. His fear had paralysed him. He sat in mute shock and watched as the man secured him to the chair.

  He felt almost as if he was a spectator, watching another boy get tied to a chair. He wished that was the case. When the man finished tying the boy to the chair, he turned and left him alone again.

  That was when the boy’s mind finally broke and the crying started. Huge, heaving sobs of pure anguish wracked his small body. He cried until his throat hurt and he could barely see.

  By the time the man came back, his voice was all but gone. He cried his silent tears, his body still, exhausted by the emotion.

  This time, the man wasn’t alone. The boy thought he counted twelve other people. All of them wore long, dark robes of some kind. They all had their faces masked by over sized hoods. Except the man. The man had his hood down and the boy could see him clearly.

  What was this? What was happening? The boy didn’t know.

  The group formed a circle around the boy. They began chanting, but the boy couldn’t understand their words. They chanted, almost singing, in a language unknown to the boy. In other circumstances, the chanting would have been hauntingly beautiful. To the boy, it was just haunting.

  The chanting stopped abruptly and a silence descended on the room. The man said a single word in the strange, musical language and all of the people removed their hoods. The boy couldn’t see everyone, but of the people in front of him, he was surprised to see some of them were women.

  The man pulled a golden coloured goblet from a fold in his robe. He stepped toward the boy. As he reached him, he pulled out a long, black dagger. The boy took a sharp intake of breath, his eyes widening in horror. His breath came in ragged pants, his eyes glued to the wicked looking blade.

  “Relax little one,” the man said, his hand reaching up and caressing the boy’s face in the way a father might soothe his son. “What you are about to do is a great honour and you should be proud.”

  The boy didn’t know what he meant, but something in the man’s voice calmed him. He watched, more intrigued than afraid now as the man reached out with the knife and made a small cut on the boy’s inner arm. The cut stung but it wasn’t deep enough to do any real damage.

  The man reached out and squeezed the cut, catching the slowly dripping blood in the goblet. He stood back, seeming to be satisfied. He dipped his finger into the goblet, smearing the liquid onto his lips. He leaned forward and kissed the boy on the forehead. The boy felt a wet, sticky mark there.

  The man stepped back into the circle. He said something else in the strange language, and the rest of the group repeated him. This went on for several sentences.

  Suddenly, the temperature in the room dropped. The boy’s gentle shivers of cold became the violent shivers of the almost frozen. He could hear his teeth clacking together, and he felt his body shaking.

  At the same time, the boy felt the air around him shift. He was consumed, surrounded by the chilling cold and something else. Something darker and more primal. Something that made every hair on the boy’s body stand to attention. Something that made him quiver.

  The boy felt his bladder let go, the warmth spurting down his thighs. He could hear it dripping to the floor. He felt no shame, only the all consuming fear of the presence he felt around him.

  “The Prince of Darkness moves among us again,” the man said. He dropped to his knees, bowing before the boy. The others did the same.

  The boy thought he saw something in front of him. A black cloud that blurred his vision. He saw it coming closer and felt the presence around him envelope him. His screams as the presence devoured his very essence where nothing but an instinctive reaction. The boy felt nothing.

  Chapter 1

  The Wiley Manor Hotel, Now

  Kelly sighed as she stood in the lobby. She turned in a circles, looking all around her at the dirt, dust and cobwebs.

  “You weren’t kidding when you said the place had stood empty for a while where you?” she said.

  Jason came up behi
nd Kelly. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “It’s going to be fine Kel. We’ll get this place cleaned up in no time, and before you know it, we’ll have a five star rating and be fighting off the VIPs with a stick.”

  Kelly couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t think so.” She turned to face Jason, wrapping her arms around him too. “But we will get it put right. Nothing some elbow grease and a few weeks won’t solve right?”

  “Right,” Jason said. He leaned in and kissed Kelly then stepped back. “I’ll go and get our stuff from the car.”

  As Jason went back down the driveway, Kelly took another look around. It wasn’t so bad, she reasoned. It was only dust. They could clean dust. They could make this work. They had to.

  Kelly and Jason had always dreamed of running a family B&B. They had been looking into buying one when Kelly’s mum got sick. Kelly had to stop working to take care of her. She was all she had.

  As the cancer spread, ravaging her body, Kelly was there. As the medical bills grew bigger than her insurance would cover, Kelly and Jason had stepped up. They had paid the bills with the money for their dream.

  It took eight painful, awful months for the cancer to take her. Kelly was left heart broken and penniless. When she found out her mother had left her everything, she wasn’t expecting much. Her mother had never been rich. She had been surprised to learn she had been just short of a quarter of a million dollars.

  Jason had told Kelly he had to go away for a weekend for work. When he returned, he admitted he had lied. He’d actually been to view a small, countryside B&B. He hadn’t told Kelly because he hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up.

  He explained to her that they could afford the place. Kelly had been sceptical. How could they even come close to affording something that wouldn’t need more money pouring in on repairs and revamps?

  Jason had convinced her that they could. They could buy the place and have just enough left to clean it up and furnish it. Kelly had felt herself getting her hopes up. It was the first time she had felt positive since she had heard her mother’s diagnosis.

  Then Jason had dropped the bombshell. He had managed to haggle the price down another $25,000 if he signed the agreement then and there. He had done it.

  Kelly had been angry at first. They always discussed big decisions, and he had gone behind her back on something huge. She had accused him of thinking she was mentally unstable after her mother. He had told her it wasn’t that at all. He just knew she would love it and he wanted to do something nice for her. He was ready for them to live their dream.

  She had come around in time of course. She didn’t have a lot of choice. Every cent they had was now tied up in this property. It didn’t matter how hard the work was, they had to do it. There was no other way.

  Jason stepped back into the lobby, pulling Kelly back to the present. He dragged two large suitcases behind him. The removal firm would be bringing their furniture the next day. For now, they had essentials mostly.

  “You know what?” Jason said.

  Kelly shook her head.

  “It’s already getting on for six. Let’s find a half decent room to stay in for tonight. We’ll order takeout and watch a movie. And tomorrow, we’ll get up early and start cleaning this place up.”

  Kelly smiled. “That’s the best plan you’ve had in ages. Probably since buying this place.”

  “So I’m forgiven?”

  “I think so,” Kelly said, “but don’t think that means you get out of doing the work.”

  They both laughed.

  “Let’s take a look at our quarters,” Kelly said. “They might not be as bad.”

  Jason nodded. “Ok,” he said.

  Maybe she was right. The real estate agent had said that the business failed a long time before the owners gave up and moved on. Maybe they had kept their own place a lot better than the rest of the place.

  They headed for the stairs and climbed up to the third floor. Jason pulled a large bunch of keys from his pocket. He got the right one on the fourth try. He pushed the door open and stepped in. Kelly followed him.

  They found themselves in a large room. The cream coloured carpet needed a good wash, and the place could use a duster, but other than that, it wasn’t too bad. It wouldn’t require anywhere near as much work as the rest of the place.

  Kelly shivered.

  “Cold?” asked Jason, frowning. The room was warm.

  Kelly shrugged. “I just got a cold shiver,” she said.

  Jason crossed the room and opened the first door. A small kitchen greeted him. Behind a second door was a spacious bathroom that only needed the mould removing from between the tiles. Behind the third door, a reasonable sized bedroom.

  Kelly hung back as Jason enthused over the rooms.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Kelly shrugged again. “I don’t know. I just feel like we’re disturbing someone somehow. You know, like we’re in their house.”

  Jason laughed. “Well it’s ours now.”

  Jason went back downstairs to get their suitcase. Kelly stood in the centre of the room, unsure of what to do. She reached up and rubbed the back of her neck as the little hairs there suddenly stood on end. She could feel eyes on her, watching her.

  She spun around. There was no one there of course. She gave a nervous laugh, which she cut off abruptly as it echoed around the empty room. She flinched when she saw the dark shadows cross the wall in front of her, like fingers reaching out for someone. Her. She hardly dared to look behind her but she did.

  Her laugh came again. Relief this time. The branches of a large tree danced in the breeze, casting their shadow on the wall.

  Kelly jumped when the door slammed open and Jason appeared with their things. She shook her head and went to help him. She would have to get over this feeling she knew. It was stupid. Paranoid. There was nothing here except her and Jason.

  It was hard to shake the feeling though as she felt the unseen eyes that watched her follow her across the room. She threw a look over her shoulder. Nothing.

  “Are you ok?” Jason said. “You’re acting kind of weird.”

  “I feel as though someone’s watching me,” Kelly admitted.

  “Well maybe we’re all they have to watch,” Jason said, indicating around the room at the lack of a TV. “I guess the movie’s off.”

  “Looks that way,” Kelly said.

  She reached for one of the suitcases. She laid it down and opened it up. She rummaged around until she found one of the blankets. She spread it on the carpet and sat down, patting the spot beside her.

  “Let’s talk about the rooms. What colours should we have? Should we have themes?”

  “Hmmm,” Jason said. “I think this calls for wine.”

  He pulled a wine bottle out of the suitcase and opened it using the corkscrew on his key chain. He sat down beside Kelly. He took a drink of the wine and passed it to her.

  “I didn’t bring any glasses,” he admitted.

  She laughed and took a drink, her earlier discomfort forgotten.

  Kelly and Jason passed the wine back and forth between them. They decided on neutral colours for now. They would keep the rooms simple and elegant in an understated way. Jason insisted they wouldn’t have themes. He said they were tacky. Kelly figured she could persuade him at some point down the line.

  “Ready for pizza?” Jason asked a couple of hours later. Kelly nodded. The wine had made her hungry.

  Jason pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He shook it a few times.

  “No reception,” he sighed. He stood up. “Be right back.”

  Kelly pulled her knees up in front of her, her arms draped casually on top of them. They were going to be happy here.

  She reached for the wine bottle, wondering if they’d left any. It was gone. She looked behind her, turning her head as far as she could each way. Where the hell was it? Had Jason taken it to put in the outside bin? No, she thought, he only had his cell phon
e in his hand as he left.

  She stood up, looking around. It must have rolled somewhere. That would be a great start. Red wine on a cream carpet.

  As she looked around, she saw the door to the kitchen was open. She could have sworn Jason closed it. She walked towards it, her heart hammering suddenly. She could feel the eyes on her again.

  She put her hand around the door and flicked the light on. For a second, she saw carnage. Blood everywhere. Up the walls, on the floor, dripping from the ceiling. She could smell the coppery tang in the air.

  She blinked, the scream forming low in her stomach. The kitchen was clean and white. No blood. She let the scream out as a quiet whimper instead. What was happening to her? Had all the stress and grief of the last few months finally caught up with her?

  No she thought. It’s just being somewhere new. I’m letting my imagination run away with me. That’s all.

  She stepped closer to the door and reached up to turn the light back out. As she did, something by the sink caught her eye. Their empty wine bottle stood there, the dark glass standing out against the white tiles.

  But that’s impossible. Neither of us came in here. She heard a low laugh. She span around, expecting to see Jason laughing at her reaction to his elaborate prank. She was alone.

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end again. Her heart banged so loudly in her chest she felt as though she could hear it outside of herself.

  The door opened and another whimper left her mouth.

  “What happened?” Jason demanded, crossing to her and putting his hand on her arm. “You’re freezing.”

  “I…I,” she stammered, her words blocked by the terror that had consumed her. “The wine bottle.”

  She nodded into the kitchen. Jason frowned and turned the kitchen light off. “It doesn’t matter, it was empty anyway,” he said.

  Kelly frowned at him. So it was ok for malevolent spirits to move things as long as they were empty? She turned slightly to look at Jason properly, to explain. That’s when she saw it. The wine bottle lay on its side on the blanket. She was really losing it.