Oh thank goodness they had managed to get out of the house.
"Keep climbing my loves! Mommy will get to you soon and run - run as fast as you can across the street to the old man’s house."
As she bolted towards the window to make sure they could hear her yells three shadowy figures came from the sides. She couldn't tell if they had been in front of the window the whole time or not with the way Paige had the haze moving around the room.
Paige stood beside her as an older man appeared directly in front of the window with blood running down his face and sides. Beside him was were the children from downstairs.
The little girl with half a face, so grotesque on one side but angelic on the other. Then the blue face of the other. Sara knew without a doubt she was staring at the remnants of Paige's family and the work she had done to them.
"Meet the Clarks," Paige whispered into her ear. “You might think I am crazy but I promise you they deserved it and they will make sure you and your brats meet the same end.”
The little girl was in tears but the two men seemed to have a resolve set about them that surprised Sara considering they were facing the woman who by all accounts had killed them in the first place.
"I have to get to my children, please help me; help me get rid of her." Paige sighed and the air around Sara grew hot and cold creating a deep mist.
“You are really starting to annoy me Sara. I had such high hopes for you.” Paige suddenly rushed forward towards the three in front of her and they screamed in pure fright before Paige seemed to pass through all of them.
Rage filled their eyes as they looked at Paige with a new steely resolve. The man began to approach Sara as the two children went for the window.
“They’re trying to hurt you,” Paige’s voice whispered. “They’re going to kill you, Sara, they hate you, Sara…”
Sara got to her feet, clutching the knife in defense.
Oh no, they were going to get her children back for Paige. She was obviously in charge here and they didn't want to make her angrier.
“No you can’t have my children you monsters.”
Without another thought she dove at the man with the knife held high and stabbed down as hard as she could. Hot blood spurted across her face and she grew bold in the fact that she was able to hurt him. She stabbed over and over.
"Hurry out the window faster, we must go now."
Oh no, the other two.
She had to stop them before they got to any of her precious kids. Hopefully by now they had made it down the house but she had no idea how far from the house these spirits could go or how powerful they were.
Paige could definitely at the very least appear on the outside so there would be no reason these could not as well.
With the knife still impaled inside of the dead man she grabbed the nearest object she could and darted for the girl who was already half way out the window. She grabbed the leg and pulled her back in while the girl screamed in rage.
All Sara could see now was hatred at the fact that this family was trying to also doom hers. Screw them. She was a mother. She would fight till the end. She brought the object down hard on the girl’s undamaged side of the face. The roller-skate hit its mark and instantly collapsed in bone and tissue.
The sick squishing noise went right to Sara's gut and the bile started to rise before falling back down. Deep down she knew the girl was already dead and this was necessary but watching her face collapse in beneath the wheel was just a tad too much for her sanity at this point.
There was some twitching coming from the body and Sara tried not to dwell as she went for the blue boy.
"I have to admit you are stronger than I thought you were Sara, I take back what I said." Paige came over to the bleeding Lily and used her foot to kick the body over a bit.
Sara glanced up and ignored the insane neighbor she had once considered a friend as she tackled the last one. She couldn't remember the name she had read in the diary for this one. Paul, Pete... something along those lines but she wouldn't let herself think of them as real people.
"Stop! Mom, Stop!" Sara didn’t recognize the voice. This was not the time to be distracted.
"Oh she's not going to help you little whelp." Paige giggled to herself.
The boy was stronger than the others and kicked up into Sara's stomach. The pain caused the vomit to fly and she gagged while trying not to lose her hold on the boy trying to get away. As she grabbed his foot she dragged herself on top of him and began to smash his head into the floor.
When he stopped fighting back against her so hard she grabbed his neck and squeezed. She wasn't actually sure if you could strangle a ghost but since they had been able to take on such life like bodies at this point she was willing to try anything.
Eventually the room went quiet and the only thing she could hear was the sound of her own ragged breathing. There was blood all over her clothing, she had cuts on her arms and hands which wasn't quite a surprise.
But she was suddenly exhausted. Crawling on hands and knees she went over to the open window and looked out.
Over the window seal in the yard below she could see one of Janet's dolls.
"Janet!" Sara couldn't see any sign of the children. Hopefully they were able to make it to the neighbors. Stretching her body outside she noticed that the neighbor’s lights were off across the street.
But why would they be out if the kids had made it over there.
The quietness outside began to suffocate her. There was an unsettling stillness. No trees were moving. The birds were sleeping for the night. No insects where singing in the summer weather; what was going on?
"Boys... Janet," her voice was coming out as a whisper now. She turned back around into the room where Paige was silently sitting on the edge of Janet's bed with a glowing smile. The woman looked just like she did the very first day she knocked on the door and introduced herself.
"Where are my children?" Sara was sure Paige had an inkling on where they would be hiding at this point.
Without saying a word the other woman swept her hand around the room.
As Sara's gaze followed her hand she saw the body of John with the knife still in it. There was little Janet with a roller skate by her head, and to the side of the window was James, who had fought the hardest covered in her vomit. Sara stared and her body went cold.
"Stop playing games Paige, I am done! I am done with this and I am done with you. If you want us gone that is fine, we will leave tonight but I am getting my family." She stormed for the broken bedroom door and stopped dead in her tracks.
In the hallway, all staring mournfully at her were the translucent images of Lily, the boy, James, John, and Janet. The husband had his back turned and was slowly walking back into the shadows into some unknown place in the house. There were no words.
Little Lily came forward. "Sorry miss, we tried to distract her but well momma is really good with the head games at this point miss." With that she grabbed Janet's hand and the two faded away.
Sara turned her back on the remaining figures. Paige was smiling at her and holding the knife that had been used to kill her husband or wait to kill John. The bodies were all still there. Still very real. She had failed.
"Don't look so sad foolish woman. You did yourself a favor. Set yourself free from the torment of a family." The smile never left Paige's face.
Sara walked forward and grabbed the knife. Without a second thought she brought the knife up to her throat. With deep and hard thrust the knife worked its way through the artery and part of her throat before she collapsed onto the bedroom floor.
"It's okay Sara, you don't get to pick your family but you do get to pick your friends. And I am so glad that you and I can now be friends for well, eternity." With that, Paige’s laughter filled the house and surrounded the destroyed family.
Epilogue
“Oh I love when new people move in. Sometimes it can be so drab around here,” complained Paige.
“Mhm,”
Sara nodded in agreement. She didn’t know how long the house had stood empty. Paige and the kids were starting to grate on her nerves and she would be happy to meet some new people. Sara’s children were still sore at her and spent most of the time crying or hiding.
Janet occasionally appeared with Lily even though neither of the girls enjoyed being around Paige. The boys…well who knows. There were times when Sara wasn’t even sure if they were inhabiting the house.
“Here they come!” Paige squealed with delight and poked Sara in the side. Surprisingly, whenever she ignored the fact that Paige was a homicidal maniac, Sara did enjoy the other woman's enthusiasm.
The two watched the family below emerge from the car parked in the driveway. Sara couldn’t help but smile as one of the new children looked right at the window where the two women were standing.
~~~~~
The pounding from the knocker had Mrs. Samson running for the door so as not to wake the baby. She was winded by the time her hand landed on the door knob and the sight of the two women standing on the porch caught her off guard. She figured it would be the delivery man for some items she was expecting to arrive today.
“Hi there, can I help you?” asked Mrs. Samson.
“Welcome to the neighborhood!” Paige couldn’t help but be excited. “Are you liking everything so far? We thought you might like some help making lunch or baking. I am a fantastic bake.”
“Please excuse my friend,” said Sara. “This is Paige and I am Sara, we just stopped by to let you know that we will be available if you ever need any help settling in.”
“Oh that is just fantastic,” replied Mrs. Samson with relief. “With the new baby and the move, I definitely wouldn’t turn down any new friends.”
Paige and Sara simply smiled as she led them inside.
The End
The Haunting of Witches Manor
Rosemary Cullen
Copyright © 2019
All Rights Reserved
Prologue
Warwickshire, England – 1798
And the townspeople came with torches and planks and hammers and barricaded the doors of the manor house. Soon the lower floors were engulfed in flames, and a cloud of pitch-colored smoke billowed from the tops of the battlements as though they were chimneys. No heed for the shrieks of the girls, nor the protestations of their father, only exclamations of ‘Witchcraft! Sorcery!’ and ‘Papist black magic!’
The Dowager Lady Harcourt and her son the Reverend Lord Harcourt stood apart from the mob. They had no love of carnage. Both preferred to avert their eyes from the scene and look to the darkening grey sky, confident that what must be done was being done.
When the light from the veiled son began to fade, mother and son retreated to their home by the river. The mob, however, in their frenzy remained fully half the night to watch the last of the parapets crumble and fall. When the old house was reduced to a pile of smoldering ashes, one by one the townspeople returned to their farms or to the village.
Half a week passed before the black cloud rising from the rubble had dissipated sufficiently so as not to disrupt the vision of the sky. With no visible reminders, the incident was soon relegated to the status of history. The remains of the house were soon removed, and no attempt was made to recover the bodies.
Chapter One Exodus
Present Day
It was still dark when Aisha stepped off the platform at Marylebone Station and into the train car which would ferry her away from her home town with which she had become so wearied. Behind her she pulled a heavy suitcase on wheels.
Inside were the last of all her earthly possessions. In her free hand she clutched a thermos full of piping hot coffee. She clenched her jaw, gripped the handle of the thermos tighter, and resolved not to sleep on the train.
The car was nearly empty: a young man sitting huddled in the corner opposite Aisha, an old man in a wool suit gazing out the south window, a moth-eaten blue hat resting on his knees, and a plump middle-aged woman a few seats nearer the door on the north side.
Not particularly in the mood for company, Aisha initially made for an empty seat near the woman, but as she approached, the lady’s zealously applied perfume sent her coughing towards the little man. She sat down across from him on the north side, facing east so that she would travel backwards with the progress of the train.
She groaned with fatigue as she settled into her seat. She brought the thermos to her lips and had her first sip of coffee for the day, brewed exactly how she like it – black, so black it threatened to corrode the innards. The coffee’s bitterness made her cough, and then smile with satisfaction.
No one else boarded the train after her. She waited maybe five minutes before she felt the train begin to slide down across the rails. The station slipped away slowly at first and then picked up speed. The sky was just now beginning to lighten in the east and Aisha could make out the dark shapes of the city racing past. She caught a glimpse of St. John’s Church and the garden behind it. Soon muted colors begin to attach themselves to the shapes as the sun continued its ascent.
Looking out the window to her left, Aisha found she could pinpoint the location of the sunrise, which told her the train was now travelling north and within a few minutes would turn west and leave London behind.
‘I can outrun you,’ she thought and glared at the bright spot on the skyline.
The journey from London to Warwick on this line takes about an hour and a half barring any incident, and Aisha experienced none that morning. By the time the sun had risen high enough for the day to be properly called a day, the train was powering out of Branbury.
Aisha gazed out the window at the green fields and quaint little country highways. She hated the country, but it was better than what lay behind her (or rather in front of her, geographically speaking) in the city.
And now she felt the spark of resentment flare up in her bosom once again. She frowned and thought about the academy. She could barely contain her excitement on her first day. There she had been, finally able to fulfil her childhood dream of becoming a police officer. It was naiveté, she knew now upon reflection, which had landed her in this unhappy situation.
She had expected the subtle bigotry and racist jokes, for her golden-brown skin had always been a source of reproach. Dark as a Spaniard, with a decidedly non-Anglophonic name, it was usually assumed she was an immigrant, though her mother at least was as thoroughbred English as they come.
She had not, however, been prepared for Sergeant Foster. She could tell immediately that he found her attractive. And not in a wholesome or polite way, either. He was twenty years her senior, twice married, weighing at least three hundred pounds. At first she ignored him as much as she could though he was her superior. Now, thinking about him, that spark of resentment fanned into a flame of anger.
One day, Sergeant Foster had summoned his student to his office. Aisha was immediately suspicious, especially when he began showering her with grandiose complements.
‘You’re my best student, Aisha! You have such a bright future here, Aisha!’
She nodded and thanked him, careful not to seem too sincere. Then came the rub which she had been anticipating since she first noticed his furtive glances in her direction.
‘It’s far too easy, my dear,’ he had said, ‘for students, especially women, to slip through the cracks.’
She squinted at him, waiting for the not-so-subtle suggestion she knew was coming. The tighter she squinted, she found, the more his pale, flush face and bright red hair melded into a fuzzy pink ball of angst. This, at least, amused her.
‘It would be a shame for you to be left behind. I can make sure that you won’t be.’
She found herself wishing he would just be upfront about his desires and not act like he was doing her a favor.
He stood up now.
‘Thank you,’ she said coldly.
‘My pleasure!’ And now he came to it.
‘Of course,’ he said, ‘I will require
something in return. A favor, if you will.’
He was sweating. Another young woman might have acquiesced or at least become hysterical. But Aisha gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, and sighed. Then, very calmly, she stood up and without saying a word did an about face and walked gracefully out of the room.
If only that had been the end of it.
The train was now travelling steadily northwest, away from the advancing sun.
A pleasant enough trip she thought.
But the station at Leamington Spa was only the end of the beginning of her journey. Her final destination was further still, in what her father used to call ‘the wilds of darkest Warwickshire’. Of course, it was hardly dark; mostly open fields, tiny villages, and slow rural lanes. It wasn’t even what one might call forested.
As the train rattled across the English country-side, Aisha tried to remember the last time she had made this trip. It must have been many, many years ago. Certainly well before her grandmother had died. She wondered how much, if at all, the old house had changed.
Likely it was just as dreary as she remembered. Time seemed to take less of a toll on things the further one went from civilization. Life in the heart of the city was in constant flux, but an undisturbed patch of land far from humanity may as well have been eternal.
Soon fields gave way to spare groupings of houses, which became tighter groupings of houses, which eventually began to form a modest city. The train slowed and rattled into the station.
They stopped. Aisha took one last swig of coffee. It was becoming lukewarm now, which induced even more coughing than before. Wheeling her suitcase, she disembarked from the train and stepped out into the cool morning air of Warwick.
She took a deep breath and sighed. It was an overcast day. Leaning slightly on her suitcase, Aisha fumbled around for her phone a bit before seeing that she didn’t have to. A few meters away, leaning against a light pole, was Cassius. He had arrived before she had.
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