“Is it just me, or does this look extremely out of place?” My fingers ran along the cool metal surface to the end of the armrest. A leather strap was secured there and dangling freely. “What is this?”
“No idea. But it’s freaking me the hell out. Looks like some type of torture chair.”
I didn’t say anything, but silently agreed. I continued through the barn and stopped at a back door. I pushed it open to find a clearing. A platform sat with cut timber, leaves, and other debris underneath it. The closer I got to it the more I noticed something along the edges, drawn out on the ground. Symbols. Four of them repeated, over and over again. The symbols that matched the ones I had on my arm … and on the man’s forehead. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets, suddenly unsure of the doctor’s theories.
“Any chance a group of teenagers did this?” I asked, studying the symbols. I wished I knew what they meant. Maybe a different language?
“I doubt any of them stayed out here long enough to do something like this.”
I went back the way I had come and reached the back door of the house. I paused and looked back at Jensen. He stood a few feet away, his skin ashen.
“You coming in?” I bit my tongue. The stories they’d told must have been something else.
“I’ll meet you at the truck. Take all the time you need. I know this is important to you, so you shouldn’t have me in the way.” Well-played.
I crept inside, noticing the kitchen was still full of their belongings. Dust covered everything, including a dining table with dishes in place. I picked up a small cup fit for a child and wondered if it had been Pappy’s. I stood back, and for a moment, each member of the family sat around the table, smiling as if they were in the picture I’d found. I replaced the cup, not wanting to disturb what had been left there, and went into the living room.
My gaze darted across the room. I was not sure what to expect. This room wasn’t like the kitchen. The furniture was dragged out at awkward angles away from the wall. Most crowded the front door, which flapped as a breeze blew. I could see Jensen eyeing the house from the truck. I leaned down, running my fingers across scratch marks. A nail was jutted up with a small patch of hair attached to it. I jumped as I heard a creaking sound come from the hall.
Glancing along it, I discovered a rat darting into one of the rooms. I giggled nervously. I had nothing to be scared of. No one had been murdered here. I shook my head and ventured down the hall. The bedrooms held the bare minimum: bed, dresser, and clothes, all as if they were waiting on someone to come home. The boys’ room had two twin-size beds, with a small pile of toys in the corner. I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around what I was seeing. A part of Pappy’s past was here in front of me.
After a few minutes, I realized there was nothing here but dust and old furniture. I walked back to the front and left the house.
“Let’s get out of here.” I looked out over the horizon. The sun had begun to settle behind a row of clouds. “There’s one more place I want to go before it gets too dark.”
“Where’s that?”
“Hell Children’s Home.”
The old pickup truck bounced as the tires dropped off the shoulder of the road. Hell Children’s Home loomed outside my window, seeming to stare back at me. The two-story, wood-framed building sagged with age. The steep hip roof towered into the tree limbs hanging over it. A wraparound porch on both floors didn’t become with welcome. It was the opposite.
“Did you want to go inside?” Jensen asked.
I didn’t answer. I continued to stare at the home, trying to imagine it in its prime. At one time, it probably stood as an immaculate structure, earning jealousy from anyone who passed.
“Piper?”
“Huh?” My instincts whined at me. The pit of my stomach knotted as my head tried to come up with every reason in the book not to go in there. This place seemed different from the family’s house. There was a dark presence that radiated off it. “I … um…”
His unruly eyebrows rose. “We don’t have to. I just thought you might want to see it since you were so adamant about driving out here.”
The sound of a car engine startled me, and I glanced over my shoulder to see an old Chrysler dart by. I looked back to the house and studied the windows for movement. The keys jingled, threatening to fire up the pickup.
“Jensen, do you know what happened here?” I turned and looked at him. “Like why it was closed down?”
“My parents said some kind of sickness broke out. Killed just about all the kids who were staying here.”
I focused on the home again. “Let’s go.” Grasping the door handle, I yanked it open. I slid out of the truck, and walked toward the house with purpose. Each forced step was measured. If I stopped, I would run and demand to leave. I had come all the way out here, so I would go inside. This was my grandfather’s history. No matter how disturbing, heartbreaking, or scary it was, it had been a part of him and thus, was my family history.
I clambered up the steps and stopped short directly in the front of the door. The muscles in my legs tensed, ready to run in the opposite direction. Tremors shook my core and threatened to spill over to the outside. It hadn’t looked as intimidating from the pickup.
Jensen stopped beside me. “You want me to go first?”
I licked my dried lips, staring at the rusty handle. Why does turning it seem like such a daunting task? On the other side was just an empty abandoned house. No matter what I told myself, I knew that wasn’t the reality of it. These empty rooms held horror … death. I could feel it. I nodded, clenching my teeth as he stepped forward and twisted.
It let out an ear-piercing screech from years of no use. I expected something to jump out at him. Something invisible to snatch him into the unknown and slam the door behind it. But nothing happened. Beyond Jensen’s form, I could see an open foyer with a staircase ascending into darkness.
He turned, his mouth curling up at one corner. “Coming?”
I glanced at the stairs once more and then back to him. “Just a warning, if anything jumps out at me, I might hurt you to give me a fighting chance of getting away.”
“Hopefully, I won’t have to worry about that.”
My foot felt like lead, but somehow, I forced it to move. Dust hit me as I entered the house. Years of vacancy stirred around us. It smelled damp and moldy, like something that had been left for dead and rotted. The room was bare, surprisingly. No abandoned furniture. No graffiti.
Jensen disappeared around a corner, his footsteps echoing along the way.
I gazed out over what appeared to be a living space, but my attention was drawn back to the stairs. My mouth trembled as something tugged at my midsection.
I placed an uneasy hand on the banister, the wood cool against my sweaty palm. I gripped it tight to steady myself. The steps looked sturdy, but I couldn’t be sure. The last thing I wanted was to fall through. One by one, I climbed until I made it to the landing. It was darker here than below. There were rooms all around me. The doors were open with the exception of one on the right corner. Coldness crept around me. I shivered and hugged myself as it settled over me.
I edged towards the shut door. Before I could grasp the knob, it turned on its own, right before my eyes, and the door opened. Dim sunlight filtered through closed shutters. The wooden walls had deep gashes. Upon examining them closer, I came upon something white embedded there. I plucked it out and held it up. The scream caught in my throat has I clamped a hand over my mouth. The tiny fingernail dropped to the floor, but I continued to stare at it.
“Piper? You okay up there?” Jensen called. His voice sounded close, as if he was on the stairs.
I started toward the door, but it flew shut.
“Jensen?” I screamed out in panic. I closed the gap between me and the only way out within seconds. I twisted the knob and pulled with everything I had. It wouldn’t budge. I pounded against the wood, dust spraying out over my face.
Pressure gripped me. It
squeezed my mind, making my temples pound with blinding dizziness. I stumbled back, catching myself against a wall. One knee hit the floor. It seemed to rock beneath me.
“Frank, I’m scared,” a voice said. It was so soft, it sounded like a whisper.
My eyes narrowed, trying to focus on what was going on around me. The room moved so fast, changing before my eyes. Another jolt of pressure seized me. It grew tighter and tighter, feeling as though it would crush my skull at any moment. Sweat beaded at my hairline despite the steady drop in temperature. I exhaled, seeing my breath curl around me.
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”
I jerked to the side. The voices were so close to me.
I blinked rapidly, desperate to see what I was hearing. The back of my eyes burned as tears threatened.
“Stop trying so hard. Relax, and it’ll come to you.”
I couldn’t help but feel like that had been directed at me. I closed my eyes, and alarming peace devoured my barriers. The pressure dissolved, leaving me with clarity.
I opened my eyes and found myself in an occupied bedroom. I took a second to orient. Twin-size beds lined two of the walls, with dressers in each corner and a desk in the middle. Drawings hung on the walls, all of them showing two people in different places other than this house.
I darted to the door and beat against it. “Jensen! Jensen!” This wasn’t real. My hand ached. When I stopped, I was out of breath, and couldn’t move my fingers.
Whimpering caught my attention. Two boys were huddled in the corner. A small hand reached up and flicked a lamp off, leaving us in complete darkness. I took a slow, deep breath, analyzing my situation. Somehow, someway, I was seeing things from the past.
Heavy sounds came from below. A deep voice erupted, fury laced in the hateful way it practically growled. The eruption of screams jarred the three of us. I stared at the light flooding in from under the door, hoping it would stop. I shuffled closer to the door and stuffed myself against the wall. If it opened, I would be hidden.
“I knew he’d come. I just knew it. He killed Mamma and Daddy, and now he’s here for us.”
“He didn’t do it alone, and you know that. They helped take them to him.”
One boy cried out.
“You have to be quiet, Thomas. Maybe he won’t come upstairs.”
“I don’t wanna die. Frank … I don’t wanna die.”
My heart broke at his pleas. I didn’t want to see what was about to happen. I now knew who I was sharing a room with. Frank. Thomas — my grandfather and his brother. A brother who had died when he was young, supposedly from illness. Footsteps on the stairs interrupted my thoughts. Whatever was outside was coming.
“Go out the window!” I screamed at them.
Neither acknowledged me.
“Run! Do something. It’s going to kill you.”
Thud. Thud. Thud. The steps stopped outside the door. A shadow melted into the light pooling in.
I tensed, holding my breath. The terror radiating off the boys practically brought me to my knees. Before I could blink, the door flew open, and a large figure moved into the room. Silence surrounded me. The boys were deathly quiet. It tilted its head back, sniffing the air.
“Ah! There you are, boys.” The male voice was almost comical. Like it — or he — was enjoying every minute of this. He took a few more steps in, nearing the corner where they were hiding. “If you would’ve come out, you would’ve saved a tremendous amount of lives. Not that I can complain. Souls to work for you are always nice to have. They make me stronger.” No one said a word. “Still not going to come out and play? Well, I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.”
The bed screeched across the floor as it moved by itself, leaving the boys in the open. They both screamed, shaking uncontrollably. Thomas shot forward in the direction of the man but was grabbed by the throat and held effortlessly in the air. The man’s nose ran over the length of Thomas’s neck before tossing him to the side. The boy hit the floor with a thud as he cried out.
Frank was next. Tears sprung to my eyes as I watched the boy who would grow to be the man I admired completely at the disposal of this thing. It may have looked like a man, but it was far from it. It was the thing I had seen in the mausoleum.
A deep sound resonated in its chest. “You. You’re the one who will live. Something in your future will be mine. Promised to me, here tonight.”
“I’ll never promise you anything,” Frank spat in its face. The fingers around his throat tightened. Redness rose across his cheeks as he struggled to breathe.
“You will promise me what I want.” He paused, looking down at Thomas. “Or your brother will die a brutal death before your eyes.”
“No. Please,” Thomas cried out.
“Do you swear to give me anything I want in your future?”
Frank looked at Thomas and back to the man. He nodded. A second later, he hit the floor and grasped his neck.
The man whirled and moved toward the door. He stopped, as if thinking about something.
Thomas flew into the air and hit the wall with a crack.
My throat seized as fear ripped through me. “No! Leave him alone.” My voice went unheard. I took a shaky breath.
Thomas dug his nails deep into the wood as he was tossed across the wall. Everything touching it was jarred with his impact. His broken body crumbled to the floor.
Frank jumped to his feet, his eyes wide as he stared at his brother’s disheveled body. “You promised!”
The man turned, holding a hand out in front of him.
Frank froze in place. His face contorted as if he choked on words that wanted to spew from his mouth.
“I swore he wouldn’t die. He won’t. But his soul is mine.”
Thomas rose into the air, his head hanging low. His body moved in the direction of the man. The man’s mouth dropped, unhinging in an inhuman way. Thomas’s lips stretched wide open. A mist moved out of his mouth and into the man’s.
The man stepped away and smiled down at the boy.
Thomas stood on his own now, but he had an odd nature about him. He turned toward us. Black liquid ran down his cheeks, dripping off his chin. It stained the floor beneath him. He blinked, and his lips turned up, crinkling the corners of his solid black eyes.
Frank staggered back, holding his hands out. “No ... no. Tommy — I tried. I tried to save you. I’m sorry.” His legs hit the bed behind him. He splayed across it, emotion raging out.
The man and Thomas disappeared before my eyes. I glanced outside the room, searching for them. Empty. I walked toward the stairs.
“Hello?” My tone was clipped.
The air filled with gurgles and chokes.
“Hello?”
The unsettling noise stopped. Fear raged through me.
“Ohhhh …. uhhhhhh…” a ragged, female voice dragged on.
“Who’s down there?” My quavering voice did nothing to mask the terror. I wasn’t sure if anyone below could even hear me.
The boys and the man hadn’t, so why would that change? My breathing ate up the silence.
“Uggghhhhhh…”
Carefully, I descended the steps. At the bottom, I cast a wary glance into the living area. It had been destroyed. Furniture overturned, blood smeared across the floor and walls, and the curtains ripped from the windows. My mouth dropped. This had been a massacre. No wonder my grandfather never told me about any of this. That poor man had gone through so much at such a young age. I turned toward the other end of the house and froze.
Staring at me were all the boys and girls who I assumed had lived in the house, including the twins I had seen, all with the same matching black eyes that Thomas now had. Part of my mind tugged fretfully, tried to make me run for the door … away from them. But I couldn’t move. My legs wouldn’t let me.
“Uhhhhhh…” The children shifted, leaving an opening in the middle.
An older lady sat, bludgeoned. Her blood covered the fabric of the chair sh
e slouched in. The children began to close in on her. She didn’t seem to notice.
“What are you doing? Stop!” I cried out.
Their hands clamped across her body. She let out a startled shriek. Blood pooled, covering their tiny fingers as they dug deep. Flesh and tissue tore from her.
My stomach churned, the bile rising to the back of my throat. I doubled over, grasping the handle of the staircase. Blackness ran from my nose. I choked on it, turning everything white.
“Piper?” Jensen stood over me.
I was in the bedroom, not the living room, and we were alone.
Jensen shuffled me out the door and to the truck. I couldn’t talk. I sat numbly, coping with what I had seen. I looked back to the porch, and standing there were the twin girls.
“Jensen…” I raised my finger and pointed to them.
He looked in the direction but didn’t say anything. He put the truck into drive and swerved onto the road.
I watched in the side mirror as the girls became smaller and smaller, their black eyes still on the truck. I couldn’t deal with it, at least for the next few hours, just until the numbness wore off. “I need a drink.”
He scrubbed a hand across his smooth jaw. “Are you sure that’s what you need right now?” Concern laced his words.
Stuttering out a breath, I nodded. “Please. I don’t think I can deal with things right now. Let me have the next few hours to drink it away.” I knew it was a stupid idea. Alcohol tended to be a depressant. It would only make it worse. Swallowing harshly, I focused my attention out the window. I ground my teeth together, unaware that I was shaking until that very moment. Everything hurt. I pinched my eyes closed, my soul feeling like it had shattered into a thousand pieces.
Jensen didn’t say anything on the way back into town. I didn’t want him to. Words would not logically come out of my mouth right now, even if I tried. But at the same time, the silence was torture. It only allowed me to relive every memory I had of that house. Watching Thomas’s tiny body become broken … then what they did to that woman…
Chosen (The Urban Legends Series Book 1) Page 15