by Amy Cross
"It works," Natalie says. "Forget all those films and TV shows where you've seen stuff like this. This is real voodoo. I think, anyway. The most basic form. All you need is a doll and some needles." She sets a few needles on the floor next to the doll. "And power," she adds. "You need power too, but we have that. The three of us, together, we have more than enough power."
"It doesn't look anything like him," Holly points out.
"It doesn't need to," Natalie replies. "We know it's him. That's enough." As she speaks, there's a creaking sound from above. He's up and about, moving around in the kitchen directly above the basement.
"This is all nonsense," I mutter.
"One hour," Holly says, turning to me. "You said you'd give us one hour to try this stuff."
"You have to be positive," Natalie adds.
"Fine," I say. "Let's get started."
"Everyone hold the doll," Natalie says, reaching out and placing the tips of two of her fingers on the doll's fabric. "Just touch it. And remember to respect it."
Sighing, I do as instructed, and so does Holly. There's a part of me that's impressed by Natalie's work. After all, she's managed to create the doll, and she's doing a very good job of building up some atmosphere. I almost feel guilty for being so determined to sabotage her little ritual, but the alternative is too horrific to contemplate: I can't have witchcraft being practiced down here in the basement. Not again.
"Okay," Natalie says. "Keep focusing on the doll, and keep thinking about the fact that it's the man's body. Just focus on that thought. Don't let anything else into your mind." With her other hand, she takes one of the needles. "Are you focusing?"
Holly nods.
"Elizabeth?"
"Yes," I reply impatiently, "I'm focusing. Just get on with it."
Slowly, Natalie takes the pin and slides it into the doll's shoulder. There's a pause, as we wait to see if anything will happen. After a moment, there's the sound of the man walking across the kitchen above us. It's hard to be certain, but he certainly doesn't seem to be in any pain.
"It's not working," I say.
"Quiet!" Natalie hisses. "You have to be patient! You have to give it time." She takes another needle and slides it into the doll's chest.
Silence.
I look over at Holly and see that she's staring at the doll. To her credit, she seems to be taking the whole thing very seriously.
"Be patient," Natalie says again, taking another needle and sliding it into the doll's hips.
Resisting the urge to sigh, I focus on the doll. Natalie's doing this all wrong. I can tell that there's nothing stirring in the room around us. The power is flat and dormant, not reacting at all to the doll. I knew this is how it would happen, but of course I can't really say anything without raising suspicion. After all, the others don't know about the things I got up to down here before Natalie arrived; they don't know about the others.
Above us, the man is still getting on with whatever he's doing, and there's nothing to indicate that he's in any kind of pain.
"It'll work," Natalie says, sliding another needle into the doll. "We just need to keep focusing."
"If it doesn't work -" Holly starts to say.
"It will work," Natalie replies firmly. "You can't expect it to happen immediately, though. It takes time to build up, to..." She pauses for a moment. "I don't feel it."
"Don't feel what?" Holly asks.
Looking around, Natalie seems lost and confused. "The power," she mutters. "It's barely there. It's just waiting. I thought it'd start reacting."
"What's the power like?" Holly says.
"It's a kind of energy, all around us," Natalie continues. "It's in the air. It has tides and phases, but sometimes it's possible for us to direct it toward certain places, and that's when it starts to have an effect. I don't know why it's ignoring us."
"Maybe you need a better doll," Holly suggests. "Have you thought about making it look more like the guy? Or using something of his to make it?"
I stare at her. The truth is, she just got a lot closer to the right idea, almost as if she has a kind of intuitive understanding of how the power works. The problem with the doll is that it's just made out of random rags. Natalie needed to include something to represent the man, maybe some hair or blood. As things stand, there's nothing to indicate that the doll is supposed to be a replica of the man upstairs, and that's why the power isn't responding. I could tell Natalie all of this, I should tell Natalie all of this, but I can't. The last thing I want is for the power to be unleashed again.
"Keep focusing," Natalie says, taking hold of another pin. She sounds less confident now, as if she's starting to lose faith. "Just keep focusing." She slides the pin into the doll.
We wait.
Nothing.
"Come on," Natalie whispers. "Please God, make it work." It looks as if she's close to tears. I guess she's spent so long believing in the power, she's shocked to find that it's not working properly. This is what I was worried about; she's believed in the power for so long, she's going to be very disappointed when she finds that it doesn't work.
"Maybe we should try something else," Holly says quietly.
"No!" Natalie replies, raising her voice. "Just focus! Both of you focus!"
"We are focusing," I say, "but -"
"Focus harder!" she shouts.
"This isn't working," I reply.
"Focus!" she shouts again, clearly losing all self-control. After a moment, she seems to calm down a little, but there are tears in her eyes. "This is going to work! We're going to focus, and... and I'm going to put the needles in the doll, and he's going to feel the pain!" She looks up at the ceiling, just as there's a creaking sound as the man walks across the kitchen again. "He's going to feel it," Natalie says, her voice trembling with anger. "He's going to feel these needles being pushed right through his chest."
I glance over at Holly, and as she looks back at me I can see that she's starting to doubt Natalie.
"Let's try one more time," I say calmly. I know I should stop this whole thing immediately, for Natalie's sake, but I feel as if it's important to push on and really prove once and for all that there's no point trying to manipulate the power. I just want everything to be peaceful down here.
"Focus," Natalie says, staring at the doll.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, and finally Natalie places the final needle straight through the doll's head.
Silence.
"Why isn't it working?" Natalie asks, her voice close to a whine. She looks over at me, as if she expects me to provide an answer. "What am I doing wrong?"
"I don't know," I say weakly, even though I do know exactly why this isn't working. I could tell her. I could help her. What I want, however, is to put this whole thing to rest once and for all. If we're ever going to get out of this place, it won't be through silly magic tricks. The power isn't a toy, and it can't be controlled by amateurs.
"I need to think," Natalie says, standing up and hurrying over to the corner, where she sits back down and draws her knees up to her chin. It's a pitiful sight.
"You know the crazy thing?" Holly asks, turning to me. "I actually started to think that it might... I mean, you know, that it might... work."
I nod. "It can be very convincing."
Picking up the doll, Holly starts slowly pulling out the needles. "Maybe you were right," she says eventually. "It looks like Natalie's taking this pretty hard."
"She wants to get out of here," I say. "So do I. So do you. But Natalie focuses on silly, superstitious ideas." I feel bad for being so mean, when I know that Natalie's ideas are actually correct. What she needs is a more focused way of implementing those ideas and manipulating the power, but she's too young and raw to understand. I doubt she'll ever mature enough to make these discoveries without help, and I'm certainly not going to give her any assistance whatsoever.
Looking up, I hear the man's footsteps moving across the kitchen again, and suddenly I realize that he's heading tow
ard the door that leads to the basement.
"Is he coming?" Holly asks, looking over at the door.
I nod. My heart is racing, and for a moment I'm terrified that somehow he might know what we've been doing. I grab the doll and throw it into the shadows, before reminding myself that there's no way he could know. This is just a coincidence.
After a moment, the door opens and a small wooden block is tossed down the steps.
"I can't go up again," Holly says, her voice trembling. "I can't. I can't go into that ice bath again. I can't do it."
Without saying anything, I get to my feet and walk across to the wooden block. When I pick it up, I'm surprised to find that there's just a single notch carved into the surface.
"What number is it?" Natalie calls out, her voice filled with tears.
"One," I say calmly. I turn to Holly. "It's me. He wants me."
"It's been a long time since he wanted you," Natalie says.
I nod, before taking a moment to straighten my dress. It has been at least a couple of months since he chose to call me upstairs. I'd begun to wonder if I'd done something to displease him, and I thought that Holly would be his favorite toy for a while. Now, however, it seems that he's decided to try me again. Without saying anything more to the others, I turn and head to the steps.
"Good luck," Holly says.
I don't reply. I start walking up to the door, and I can see his dark silhouette waiting for me. I knew he'd want me again eventually, but I was hoping to put this moment off for as long as possible. Still, it's part of the ritual around here. I always understood that one day I'd be called back to the ice bath, and now that day has arrived. I step through the door and wait for him to push it shut, and then I turn and face him. He's standing, as usual, in the shadows, but I can just about make out his features in the gloom. His eyes are staring straight at me, and I can't shake the feeling that he's looking forward to our session together.
Ben Lawler
Today
As I finally get back to my apartment, with the storm still battering the entire town, I half-expect to find Elizabeth and Natalie waiting for me. After all, I'm convinced that they're around, and I'm almost certain that they're behind Samantha Briggs' disappearance from the hospital. Unfortunately, however, I get all the way to my door without meeting another soul, and the only thing waiting for me inside the apartment is a power-cut, with the lights and appliances completely dead.
"Great," I mutter, flicking the light switch uselessly a couple of times before muddling through to the front room and looking out the rain-covered window. The storm seems to be building and building, beyond anything I've ever experienced before. I hope to God that Samantha's somewhere safe, because in this weather it's hard to see how anyone could survive too long.
Turning, I head across the room. It takes a moment before I realize that there's a shape on the sofa, but finally I stop and look down at the dark figure curled up on the cushions.
"She's okay," says a female voice nearby.
I look over at the door and see two figures standing in the shadows, watching me.
"She's just resting," the voice continues. "She's been drugged for a couple of days, and it's going to take a while for all that garbage to get out of her system. She just needs time, but she'll be okay eventually." She steps forward, and finally I see that it's Elizabeth, which means that the other woman must be Natalie. "Sorry we let ourselves in," she says with a faint smile. "We were in a hurry, and your wall was unlocked."
"You mean my door."
"No. Your wall"
"It's fine," I reply, looking down at Samantha as she sleeps soundly. "Are you sure she's okay here? She was in a coma -"
"She was in a medically-induced coma," Elizabeth says. "They were doing it to her on purpose. If they'd just left her alone, she'd have woken up by now."
"She was dying," I say.
"She was dying because someone wanted her to die," Elizabeth continues. "They were doing it slowly, so that everything would seem more natural, but she'd have been dead within twenty-four hours."
Kneeling next to Samantha, I peer closer at her in the darkness. Her eyes are closed and she's breathing very slowly, but when I reach out and touch her hand, I find that her skin is fairly warm.
"Don't worry," Elizabeth continues. "No-one's going to come looking for her. Not here. We've laid out plenty of distractions for them. They're going to be chasing their own tails for hours. Literally, in a couple of cases. It's so easy to keep them busy. Still, we should probably get moving in the morning. Sooner or later, they're going to come looking for you."
"How did you get her out of the hospital?" I ask.
"We used certain tricks," she says with a smile. "We had to make sure that she'd be safe. There are so many people who want to hurt her. We were able to get her up and moving for a short period, but the experience was tiring. We can't do it all the time. Without Holly, we're not at the height of our powers."
"We need to be together," Natalie says. "Without the full coven -"
"We need Holly," Elizabeth says firmly, interrupting her. "Three of us can maybe do something, but two of us won't be enough."
"I can help," I say.
Elizabeth smiles. "Thank you for the offer, Ben, but I'm afraid we need Holly."
"Has Samantha said anything yet?" I ask, getting to my feet. "Did she tell you what happened to her?"
She shakes her head. "It'll be a while before she's up to talking. Anyway, even once she's awake, she might not be able to tell us much. There's a good chance that she's blocked the whole thing from her memory. If that's the case, it's important not to push her. Her mind will be very fragile at the moment and she's still got a long way to go before she's better. Don't underestimate the severity of what she went through, Mr. Lawler. As soon as she entered that house, she was under psychic attack."
"I'm not underestimating anything," I reply. "I just... I think they're trying to blame me. They wanted to pin her death on me, and the same with Brenda Baynes."
"Probably," Elizabeth continues, "but ignore them. We can keep them distracted. The most important thing is the house itself. You were right the other day when you said that there's evil there. We thought we'd defeated it, but we can feel it stirring again. I don't know how it survived, but it's still there, and I don't think there's anyone else who can stop it."
"I don't want to go back," Natalie says, sounding hesitant.
"Neither do I," Elizabeth says, "but we don't have a choice."
"We can't go back without Holly," Natalie continues. "We need Holly. We had no power before Holly, and we've got no power without her."
"We've got some power without her," Elizabeth replies, "but not enough."
"Holly's going to come, though," Natalie says. "Don't worry. She'll be here eventually. She's just scared."
"We can't rely on that," Elizabeth says.
"She's coming," Natalie says confidently.
"I need your help," I say. "I've tried going to the house, and I'm not getting anywhere."
"But you felt it, didn't you?" Elizabeth replies. "If you've been there, you must have felt it. It's unmistakeable. There's something living in that house, and its presence is palpable in every room."
"The house itself?" I ask.
"Maybe."
"I felt something," I say. "I saw something, too. There was a man. I caught him on video, but the police have my camera."
"What did he look like?" Elizabeth asks.
"Fairly old," I say, "with a -"
"Thin face?"
I nod.
"I don't want to see him again," Natalie says, stepping back into the shadows.
"You won't," Elizabeth replies. "I thought he'd be there. He never really went away."
"Is he the source of the evil?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "He's just the voice of the house. Or a voice. We never found out for sure, but I always suspected he was a soul that became lost in the building. He was a victim, just as t
he man who tortured us was a victim."
"He wasn't a victim," Natalie hisses from the shadows.
"Natalie and I aren't quite agreed on this point," Elizabeth continues. "She didn't know him as well as I did, but I saw the truth in his eyes. That house has the ability to draw out a person's worst aspects, Mr. Lawler. It's dangerous to step inside. Think of your soul as a tapestry. If you have any loose threads at the edges, the house will pull them and unwind you until there's nothing left."
"He was a monster," I say. "He made you all go into the ice bath. He hurt you. He -"
"He's dead," she says, interrupting me. "That's one of the few certainties in this whole situation. That man died, and in my mind that makes him as much a victim of the house as any of us. Even you, Mr. Lawler."
"Nothing's happened to me," I tell her.
"Not yet," she replies, "but you're part of it. It has different strategies with different people. Some it grabs. Others it pulls in slowly. That house brings out the absolute worst in every person. I doubt there's a soul in the world who could go into that place and not be affected."
"You talk about it as if it's alive," I tell her.
"She's waking up!" Natalie says suddenly, rushing over to the sofa.
Turning, I see that Samantha is starting to sit up. She seems groggy, blinking rapidly and looking confused.
"It's okay," Elizabeth says. "You're among friends."
"Mr. Lawler?" Samantha asks, staring at me. "What's happening?"
"You were hurt," I tell her, trying to work out the best way to explain things. "You've been in a coma for the past few days."
"You're okay now, though!" Natalie says excitedly.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Elizabeth replies calmly. "Samantha, how do you feel? Are you in pain?"
She shakes her head.
"I know this must seem strange," I say, "but you have to let us explain. Do you remember anything about going out to the house on Willow Road?"
"The house? What house, what -" She stares at me for a moment, and then slowly she turns and starts looking at the window. It's almost as if her mind has gone completely blank.