by N. M. Howell
Brett nodded at me and pulled his shirt back down to cover his gun.
I relaxed somewhat and turned my attention back to the bag on the floor.
“Bailey, what did Mrs. Brody give you?” There was something strange emanating from the bag, and it had a strangely familiar feeling to it.
Bailey shrugged and walked over to it to inspect the contents of the pouch. She gasped as she looked inside, and reached in to slam the little box shut.
She then lifted the box to show me, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“What did she have in mind for us to do with that?” I asked.
Bailey shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m sure she had a very good reason.”
The spirits that were standing around near the box began to look happier, suddenly.
I blinked and was confused for a moment, but then realized what was happening. “Of course,” I said. “The holiday spirit. That woman is a genius.”
Bailey caught on and smiled back at me. “Oh. Clever!”
Mrs. Brody had obviously figured we would need some sort of a pick-me-up, and that might just have been the thing to pull these spirits out of their funk.
“Open it again,” I said. “But just a little bit. We don’t know the full effects of that stuff.”
Jordan approached us in the middle of the room and looked inquisitively at the small box. “What’s in there?”
“Might want to step back,” I laughed.
He did so instantly, having learned to trust me with these sorts of things. He was all too familiar with the strange knickknacks we had lying around the house, having experienced first-hand the strange and wonderful things Mrs. Brody liked to leave out for unsuspecting visitors.
Bailey opened the box for a moment and waved it around the air in front of her. She then closed it tightly and shoved it back into the bag for safe keeping.
The spirits around her gained a new life, so to speak. One even began humming a Christmas tune.
“Hello,” I said to a middle-aged man who stood next to Bailey. “What’s your name?”
The man smiled at me, his eyes sparkling with the magic of Christmas spirit. “I’m Jon. Pleased to meet you, ma'am.”
I smiled back at him. “Nice to meet you, Jon. Mind if we ask you a few questions?”
With their newfound happy dispositions, due to the holiday spirit Bailey released into the environment, our interrogation began to go much smoothly. Sheriff Reese joined us in the middle of the room, and while he didn’t understand what possibly could have changed, he offered his help in providing the right questions to ask. I repeated their answers for those in the room who wouldn’t see or hear them.
“Why does it suddenly feel festive in here?” Brett asked.
I shrugged. “No idea. I think you’re imagining things.
“No, I swear,” he said. “I can hear jingle bells.”
“I can smell gingerbread,” Jordan said.
I laughed. “You guys are crazy.” Bailey and I eyed each other and burst into a fit of giggles.
The two other officers were avoiding us, clearly not wanting anything to do with the strange witchcraft that was obviously going on in the center of the room. They circled the outer edges of the mill, keeping an eye out for us. It was too bad, really, as if anyone in this room needed holiday spirit, it was those two.
Jordan shook his head in amazement. “I have no idea what’s going on, but it’s amazing.”
Brett just looked confused but kept his mouth shut. He recognized the benefits of whatever was going on and left us in peace to continue our investigation.
We spoke with the spirits for another hour or so before the effects of the magic wore off, and by that time it had already gotten dark out. Not that the windows let much light through in the first place, but that muted glow that came in through the dusty panes of glass had finally disappeared. I guessed it was around five o’clock, and confirmed it by checking my phone.
“Hey,” I said to Jordan as realization dawned on me. “Isn’t it about time for the gala?”
He nodded. “Yeah, it should be happening pretty soon. Doesn’t look like much is going on, though.”
I looked around the dusty old mill, and it was evident that there would be no event happening there.
I then froze and strained my ears when I thought I heard a noise off in the distance.
“Do you guys hear that?” I asked.
Everyone else began looking around, and Sheriff Reese held his hand in the air motioning for everyone to be quiet.
There is was - faint, and barely audible - the sound of a car coming.
“Quick, turn out the lights,” I whispered frantically.
Brett ran to switch the light off at the back of the room, and we all gathered together behind the wall near the back of the mill.
We stood huddled together in silence, listening for any clue as to who might be coming.
I heard two clicks and Brett as the sheriff brought out their guns and held them at the ready.
I held my breath, waiting, as the sound of the vehicle came closer towards us.
14
I clutched Jordan’s arm as we all hid behind the back wall of the mill. We all held our breath as the sound of a vehicle came up and stopped right next to the far wall. The windows were illuminated by the headlights for a moment, and then we were met with blackness again.
I could hear the faint sound of footsteps in snow and then the creak of the front door.
I tried to peer through a slit in the wooden wall, but my visibility was minimal.
Sheriff Reese was up on his tiptoes looking through a crack in the wall, which looked larger and easier to see through than mine did.
Exterior lights were turned on outside the front door.
I squinted and tried to see as best I could. I could make out a tall, thin form silhouetted in front of the light.
“Who is that?” Bailey whispered.
I nudged her with my elbow to be quiet. We couldn’t risk being heard until we knew who the person was or what was going on.
The instant the person stepped into the room – he looked like a male - the entire space lit up with commotion. The ghosts began chattering frantically amongst themselves at the arrival of whoever it was.
I grabbed Bailey’s arm and squeezed hard. The energy in the room dramatically changed, and I got chills all over my body. The hairs on my arms stood on end, and I really didn’t like the feeling of it.
Something bad was going on, and I desperately needed to know what.
The person slowly walked into the room, and I say he was carrying a large bag with him.
The spirits were catatonic, murmuring worriedly amongst themselves and shouting things at the man. There were at least thirty voices all chattering at once, and I couldn’t make out anything they were saying.
It was completely disorienting, and Bailey was holding her hands over her ears to block out the noise.
A moment later, the person dropped the bag on the ground and shouted in a low male voice, “SHUT UP!”
I jumped and nearly fell backward onto the floor. Bailey did the same, only she did actually stumble onto the floor. Fortunately, the noise from the spirits in the next room muffled her fall.
I clasped my hands over my mouth and did my best not to scream.
Jordan, Brett, Sheriff Reese and the officers were staring at us with wide eyes; anger and worry spread across their faces.
“What the hell?” the sheriff mouthed to me.
I stared up at him with wide eyes, my breath caught in my throat.
“He’s a witch,” I whispered to him, pointing through the walls. “He can hear the ghosts.”
That made things just that little bit more complicated. It was a good thing Bailey and I had shown up. For the men's’ sake, definitely not for ours. It could end very, very badly if we weren’t careful.
I helped Bailey back up onto her feet and peered through the hole in the wall again to watch.
“Why do
n’t they just go in and arrest him?” Bailey whispered to me.
Working with the sheriff so much these past few months, I had gained a lot of insight into how these types of things worked. Not only that, but I wrote about this stuff all the time in the paper back at school, whenever a bust went down in Manhattan. It happened all too frequently, which was scary, but it made for great article content.
“Because he hasn’t done anything wrong,” I whispered back. “If we go out now, we’ll spook him away, and we might lose the opportunity to catch him. If we wait for him to do something then the sheriff can arrest him, and he can be put away for good.”
Bailey nodded silently. “What do you think he’s going to do?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, but by the reaction the ghosts gave, I doubt it’s anything good.”
I heard the faint crumpling of paper from beside me and glanced down to see Jordan fidgeting with the invitation in his hand.
“How the hell did you get that back?” I whispered angrily to him. It had been in my pocket. The sneaky bastard must have slipped it out when I wasn’t paying attention.
I tried to reach for it, but he pulled it away quickly and glared down at me. Looking into his ice blue eyes, I could barely recognize him. I guessed we had been right, the invitation had bewitched him.
I pulled my hand away slowly so as to not make him react, and made a point of keeping an eye on him in case he did anything stupid. I had no idea what the spell was intended for, but I suspected it had something to do with the mill and that guy. Jordan fidgeted with it nervously, and his eyes were darting back and forth as it he was trying to decide something complicated.
“Jordan,” I whispered to him.
He raised his eyebrow at me.
“The invitation is spelled,” I said. “It’s bewitched you. Let me have the paper, please.”
He glared at me again and placed the invitation in his pocket.
I sighed. So much for appealing to his reasonable side.
I waved my arm to get the sheriff’s attention, and when he finally looked at me, I motioned from my eyes then towards Jordan, signaling for him to keep an eye on him.
He nodded his understanding and turned back towards the hole in the wall, the whole while keeping his hand on his gun at his side.
The floorboards creaked as the man began walking towards us. I held my breath and willed my heart to stop beating so loudly. I felt as if everyone in the room could hear the thumping in my chest, and I tried to breathe deeply to try and slow my heart rate.
The amount of stress I was in seemed unreasonable, though, as we were seven and he was one. But given the situation, what with dozens of spirits on the other side of the wall that were likely victims of the person in the next room, I had my suspicions that he was capable of some pretty serious stuff.
The man walked towards our wall in the dark but flicked the light on just before he reached us and turned around to face the center of the room again.
I let out a breath I had been holding and tried to rack my brain to see if I could remember any spells that might help us in this situation. Unfortunately, I had never had the need to learn anything too defensive, and I was coming up dry.
I could see easier through the wall now that the man had turned the interior lights on. It was strange, hiding like we were. Watching. I felt like I was in some sort of spy novel or James Bond movie.
The man walked back toward the center of the room and opened his bag. He then began removing objects and laying them on the floor around him.
When he finally turned around to face the back of the room, I realized it was no man at all, but a teenage boy. He couldn’t have been more than seventeen years old.
“What’s he doing?” Bailey whispered.
“No idea, but I don’t think it’s good,” I replied.
The spirits in the room had retreated from the boy and were all hovering nervously around the perimeter of the room. They had grown silent again, and the air was thick with their fear. I could feel it in my bones, that’s how strong the energy in the air was.
“I need to go to him,” Jordan said suddenly as he moved back from the wall and stepped towards the edge.
Brett reached out and grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.
“Don’t you bloody dare,” he whispered. “You’re staying right here until we know more about this kid.”
Jordan yanked his shoulder free and tried to walk again to the edge of the wall, but Sheriff Reese and his officers were on him as well, restraining him by his arms.
“You stay right where you are,” the sheriff insisted.
Jordan struggled against their restraint, but couldn’t pull himself free. He looked angry and determined and fought hard to get out of their grip.
Their struggle wasn’t exactly quiet, and I anxiously looked back from the hole in the wall to the situation occurring behind me. The boy in the main room didn’t seem to be able to hear anything, but I doubted that would last if Jordan decided to make any more noise.
“Get the paper,” Bailey urged.
I tried to approach Jordan, but he kicked me away.
“Jerk,” I muttered as I rubbed the area on my thigh where he had made impact.
I attempted to reach for his pocket again, but he jerked away from me.
He then twisted to try and get out of the grip he was in, but he fell down onto his back with a loud thud during the attempt, and the rest of the guys fell on and around him.
I gasped as they made impact, and quickly turned to look back through the hole in the wall toward the teenager in the next room.
I could feel my skin grow cold when I realized he had heard, and pulled away from the opening in the wall when I saw his dark, narrow eyes staring right back at me.
I held my hand over my chest and tried to calm my breathing while telling myself there was no way he could have seen me through that tiny hole.
None the less, I was terrified and had to come up with a plan, and fast.
I peered back through the hole and saw that the kid was walking towards us with something long and sharp in his hands.
Just when he got close enough to the wall to nearly see us, though, one of the spirits in the far side of the room shouted something at him.
I couldn’t make out what he had said, but it was enough to draw the kid’s attention back away from us.
I stood frozen, listening to his footsteps grow quieter as he walked away from our wall.
“That was close,” I whispered. I nearly giggled, I was so relieved.
I supposed the sheriff or Brett or one of the officers could have shot him if he had done anything, but somehow that didn’t bring any comfort to my thoughts.
I glanced down at the men on the floor and extended a hand to offer to help them up. Then, sneakily, as Jordan was pushing himself off the ground, I reached into his pocket and pulled out the invitation.
He nearly punched me as a result, but I was lucky that Brett was standing right next to him, and he grabbed Jordan’s wrist before he had a chance to extend it toward me.
“Thank you,” I whispered to him.
Brett nodded. “Don’t mention it.”
Jordan stared at me angrily, but then after a moment his expression began to soften. He then shook his head and ran his hands over his face, and when he looked down at me with those big ice blue eyes, I could tell that he was back to his normal self.
“Oh god, River,” he whispered, stepping towards me. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”
I waved the invitation in the air in front of me, ensuring I was standing outside of his reach. “I do. The invitation has bewitched you. Better leave this with me.”
Jordan blinked and stared down at the piece of paper. “How can such a small thing have so much power?”
I laughed quietly. “Oh, you’d be surprised.”
Jordan nodded. “I’m so sorry. I just… I just really needed to go see that guy in the other room. I felt
such a strong urge to go approach him.”
“Well,” I said. “I guess that confirms who spelled the invitation.” I glanced over to Sheriff Reese, who nodded back at me. I was grateful that he was following along. I made a mental note never to underestimate that guy again.
My attention turned back toward the wall as the ghosts began making a commotion again.
“What’s happening?” Jordan whispered.
I squinted through the hole and noticed the ghosts rushing around the room, murmuring amongst themselves. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying too clearly, but I thought I heard one of them repeating “another one, another one.”
“Silence,” the boy whispered loudly to the room around him. “Do you want to ever be allowed out of here, or not?”
The spirits immediately went silent again.
Ah, so that’s why none of them had left. I wondered if he had cast a spell capturing them all inside? I also wondered how Sarah and Peter managed to escape to come warn me about the danger I was in.
Come to think of it, I wonder why they hadn’t remembered Jordan’s name, given the fact that he was the ex-cop of the relationship. So many questions, I would have to make a point of getting answers after this ordeal was over.
If we survived it, that was.
The boy pulled a black jacket from the bag on the floor and put it on. He then picked up a tray and placed some small objects on it. From where I stood, it looked like some sort of decanter and two glasses. He then walked towards the front door carrying the tray like a waiter and stood near the closed doors.
“What’s he doing?” I whispered.
The boy stood by the front door and waited, completely still, for quite a few minutes.
The chatter from the spirits began picking up again, but this time more quietly.
I wanted to go and ask one of them what was going on, but I didn’t want to risk being seen or heard. Unfortunately, none of the ghosts were near enough to our hiding spot to ask them anything.
Finally, after about twenty minutes, I heard a car pull up near the mill outside.
I gasped and turned to look at Sheriff Reese.
He stared back at me with wide eyes, his hand twitching over his gun.