House of Shadows

by Darcie Coates

  Sophie wove through the house’s maze so quickly that her shoulders bumped the corners. She found her way to the stairs without passing another soul and took them to the ground floor at a reckless speed.

  The butler stood by the gun storage room. His calmly watched Sophie as she dashed past but made no move to stop her.

  Sophie tore open the door. The sun was setting, and it cast a sickly red glow across the washed-out landscape. Sophie was breathless and gasping, but she didn’t let herself slow down as she took the steps to the lawn and followed the dirt path to Northwood’s gates.

  She wanted to cry, but she had no tears left in her body. Her eyes ached, her lungs burned, and she felt as though she might be sick. Once again, the black-and-white drawing appeared in her mind. The making of a vengeful ghost. As if Marie’s untimely death hadn’t been cruel enough, was she also cursed to linger in Northwood instead of finding rest in the next life?

  The sun had dipped behind the treetops. Although it still spread its red glow over the sky, the clearing was shrouded in heavy shadow. Sophie felt too bone weary to run any longer and settled for a fast walk as she climbed the hill towards Northwood’s exit.

  She’d left her travel case in her room, but nothing could entice her to return for it. I don’t care where I end up or what happens. As long as I don’t starve and never have to return to Northwood, I’ll consider myself the luckiest woman in the world.

  The gate loomed ahead, its black wrought-iron the only thing standing between her and freedom. Sophie gripped the metal bars and pulled, but the gate stuck. She dug her feet into the ground and tugged harder, then she tried pushing and finally searched for some type of bolt or seal, without any luck.

  They can’t be stuck; Joseph went through them just this afternoon. She strained against the gate until her arms ached, then she staggered away, panting.

  The house doesn’t want me to leave. The thought was accompanied by a sinking, sickening feeling in her stomach. Just like Joseph, it wants to keep me here forever.

  She glanced at the house. Lights were appearing in its windows as the staff, many probably still ignorant that their mistress had left, tried to chase away the darkness.

  I have to find a way out.

  A stone wall extended from either side of the gate and disappeared into the trees. Though too high to climb, it still gave Sophie a glimmer of hope. It can’t wrap around the entire clearing; it looks like it might only go on for a dozen meters before ending. I could walk around it then follow it back to the road.

  That meant going through the forest, though. The tangle of dark trees sent prickles up Sophie’s arms. Still, she approached it. She followed the curve of the clearing a little way then turned and pressed into Northwood Forest’s smothering depths.

  Branches scratched at her exposed arms and snagged her hair as Sophie ducked and wove through the trees. She hadn’t realised how unstable the ground would be; decades of partially decayed leaves and sticks crumbled under every footfall, threatening to collapse entirely. Sophie clung to the branches when she could, ignoring the stinging of her scraped hands as she searched for the stone wall.

  It can’t be far away, surely.

  She could barely see in the clustered, dim woods. Every time she raised her eyes, she hoped to catch a glimpse of the grey stones through the trees, but all she could make out were shadows.

  Maybe I’m past the wall’s end already. Should I turn and try to find the road? Or should I go forward for a little longer?

  Sophie paused, breathing heavily, as she tried to orient herself. Hidden beneath the cacophony of rubbing branches and wild animal calls, Sophie thought she could make out another, less natural noise. It sounded like whispers spoken through dry lips, punctuated by clicking teeth. Sophie, one hand gripping a thick branch that extended above her head, rotated on the spot, trying to make out shapes in the dying light. She thought there was some movement to her right, but whether it was from nature or something more sinister, she couldn’t tell.

  Her nerves were frayed to the edges of their endurance, but she pressed forward, trying to guess the direction of the road. It was far too easy to become displaced in the woods; she couldn’t be certain which direction she faced any longer.

  The whispering noises grew louder, rising over the forest’s sounds. Sophie kept her eyes moving, alternating watching where she was about to step and scanning her surroundings. Laughter rang out in the distance. It was cold and mirthless, a sickening debasement of the true emotion that should accompany laughter. Sophie moved faster, using her arms as much as her legs to clamber through the vegetation while cold sweat coated her and stuck her hair to her face.

  Her dress became snagged, and she twisted to pull it free. A sharp tug couldn’t dislodge it, though, and Sophie leaned closer to see what she’d become caught on. She gasped.

  Bone-thin, blackened fingers gripped the edge of her skirt. She could see the knuckles bulging against the papery skin. She followed the arm across the leaf-strewn forest floor, then raised her eyes to see the distorted, skull-like face leering at her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: Joseph

  Joseph couldn’t keep himself from scanning Northwood’s visage as he approached the building. On nights like that one, when the sunset painted the skies in reds and golds, Northwood almost looked romantic. His mouth twisted at the idea.

  Sophie’s window overlooked the house’s entrance. He wondered if she was waiting for him, as she had been that morning. The curtains were open, but he saw no movement inside.

  A single apprehension had been playing through his mind like a mantra since he’d left her that morning. What if something happens while I’m gone? What if she’s hurt?

  The thought sickened him. He’d urged his horse as fast as he dared on the journey, but it had still taken him six hours to return—six hours, and all for a fool’s errand.

  The bitter, painful failure left him with an impossible choice. He’d second-guessed himself more during the previous two days than he had at any other point in his life. Maybe I should have told her about the house, after all. She deserves to know the truth.

  He’d been on the verge of telling her that morning, but he’d convinced himself that it would be better for her if he delayed the painful moment. There had been a chance to fix the situation and ensure Sophie’s safety without her ever having to know the house’s history—but any hope of that had been dashed by the sight that had greeted him in the inn’s small, musty room.

  He expected Sophie to hate him when she found out why he’d brought her to Northwood. In the meantime, he’d clung to the small moments of delight like a drowning man. Her fingers, tiny and delicate, bandaging his arm. Her silky skin and impossibly soft hair. The way she dropped her eyes when she was embarrassed. She made him feel alive like nothing else could, and the idea of losing her was a living nightmare.

  He pushed through Northwood’s doors and inhaled the familiar, cold air. Even after a lifetime of enduring it, the smell still managed to turn his stomach.

  Reynolds, the butler, stood by to take his coat, but Joseph didn’t stop. He had to see Sophie and reassure himself that she was safe. Everything else could wait until after.

  The house seemed unnaturally quiet as he jogged up the stairs and turned towards Sophie’s room. The maids were hiding again, and the implications of that sent chills up his spine.

  Please let her be safe. She’s already endured so much. If she’s seen something—if the house has done anything…

  He knocked on her door and, when there was no answer, pushed into her room. It was empty. An open case lay on the bed, abandoned halfway through being filled. Joseph’s mouth dried. He scanned the room and saw no signs of a struggle, although some of her dresses had been dropped onto the floor.

  Rose had come up behind him while he was distracted. She moved so silently those days, he had no idea how she managed it. He wouldn’t have known she was there except for her quiet, delighted exhale.

  He t
urned towards her, and one look at her face told him she knew something. She bared her teeth in a smile. The insanity that had been creeping into her eyes over the past four months seemed more pronounced than ever. Joseph tried to keep his voice calm, despite the fear shredding his insides. “Where’s Sophie?”

  “Gone,” Rose murmured. She crossed her arms over her chest like a hug and inhaled deeply. “Finally gone.”

  Joseph had to clench his fists to stop himself from shaking his aunt. He had no hope of hiding the panic in his voice this time. “Where is she? I swear, if you’ve hurt her—”

  “Ha! No, no, no.” Rose was delighted. She swayed as she tightened her arms about herself. “I haven’t spilt so much as a single drop of her blood, my dear. She’s managed that all by herself.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: The Dead

  Sophie screamed as the corpse latched a second hand onto her dress and began to drag itself towards her. She’d never imagined something so nightmarish could exist; its skin had dried into a thick leather over its sunken cheeks. Its eye sockets were empty, but its head bobbed as though it were still trying to see her. Patches of sparse black hair sprouted from its skull and fell past its shoulders. Any flesh under the skin had melted away over the years, leaving nothing to cushion the sharp angles of its bones. It opened its mouth to expose rows of small, sharply pointed teeth, and a rasping gurgle escaped its throat.

  Sophie shrieked and kicked at the hands pinning her in place. Her foot smashed through one of them. The bones splintered under the impact, and the sensation made her stomach revolt. She gave her skirts another hard tug and managed to snatch them free from the second hand.

  She didn’t spare even a second to gather herself before running, tearing through the forest without regard for the hard branches that scratched her face and limbs. She’d taken only three paces when her foot plunged into a hole hidden by the forest’s debris. Sharp pain shot through her ankle, and Sophie smothered a cry.

  She grabbed a nearby tree trunk, digging her fingernails into the bark to drag herself free from the hole. Her foot ached. There was no time to check if it could still take her weight; she began running again, biting back against the stabbing pain that accompanied each step.

  There was movement all around her. Shapes materialised from between the trees and rose from under the forest’s litter. Bony hands reached towards her, and Sophie ducked and wove as well as she could in the forest’s cramped confines.

  Dead fingers caught in her hair and pulled her back. Pain shot across her skull, and she fell, slamming into a fallen tree trunk with a heavy thud. She rolled over and found herself face-to-face with one of the corpses. Its skin had split and bubbled, leaving dark cracks across its face. Sophie thrashed to pull herself free, but more hands fixed over her limbs and tangled in her hair. Then blinding, hot pain shot through her arm as one of the corpses bit into her flesh.

  A crack deafened Sophie, and the pain in her arm ebbed to a dull sting as the creature released her. After a second crack, dark fragments sprayed over her. She blinked at them, dazed, and saw what looked like bone fragments had fallen over her dress.

  “Sophie, keep your head down!”

  The voice, beautifully familiar, filled Sophie with burning relief. She ducked her head as instructed, and another crack released the pressure on her hair. The air filled with a horrible, furious hissing as the dead surrounding her reacted to their attacker.

  She raised her head just enough to see Joseph racing through the trees. He paused, raised the gun to his eye, and fired. The bullet shattered one of the corpse’s skulls, spraying Sophie with more bone chips while freeing her arms. She raised them over her head to protect herself and felt hot blood dripping from her elbow.

  Joseph was almost on top of them. He turned the gun around and used its butt to smash one of the creatures away from her. More corpses were materialising out from the trees, converging on Joseph and snatching at his legs. He fought furiously, using the gun and his fists to shatter the desiccated bodies, pausing only to crush any grasping hands that came too close to Sophie.

  The first time she’d met Joseph, Sophie had imagined his cool exterior hid something as dangerous as a wolf. She hadn’t been wrong. Her husband’s face was contorted into an animalistic snarl as he fought for her, and his eyes blazed with a dark, dangerous fury. He had no reservations in the fight and attacked mercilessly, beating back the corpses until she was surrounded by nothing but a scattering of broken limbs and crushed skulls.

  Joseph stood for a moment, breathing heavily as he glanced around them to search for any further assailants. Then he discarded the gun and dropped to his knees beside Sophie, and all of the ferocity melted into fear and grief.

  “My darling—” He caught sight of her bleeding arm and groaned. “Forgive me, Sophie. Shh, you’re safe now. Come, let me…” He wrapped his arms around Sophie and picked her up with slow, deliberate care.

  She pressed her face to his chest. His heart beat quickly in her ear, and she closed her eyes to soak in the sound. The entirety of the events from the afternoon washed through her. Grief, pain, and overwhelming fear collided, dulling her mind and making her limp in Joseph’s arms. She was aware of movement but couldn’t imagine what he was doing or where he was taking her. Joseph spoke to her in quiet, calm tones, but she couldn’t make out the words. Then cold light spread over them, and Sophie opened her eyes to see they had escaped from the smothering forest and were standing in natural moonlight.

  “Stay with me just a little longer,” Joseph said. “We’ll be inside soon.”

  “No.” Sophie finally began to struggle. “No, I’m not going back. Not to Northwood.”

  “Calm down, Sophie. We have to. Please stop fighting—we don’t have a choice.”

  “Let me go,” Sophie spat, shoving against Joseph’s chest. Her energy had been drained, and she couldn’t pull free, but her exertion was enough to make Joseph kneel on the grass so that he wasn’t in danger of dropping her. He wrapped his arms about her and held her still against his chest until her struggles died. Sophie fought to breathe properly. Still, she managed to put force into her words. “I’m not going back to Northwood.”

  “You’re in shock. And you’re injured. I need to get you medical attention, or you might not survive the night.”

  “I’d prefer death than that house.”

  Joseph sighed and buried his face into her hair.

  She realised he was shaking. What from? Fear?

  “Sophie, if there was any way for us to leave Northwood, I would take you away this very second. But we have no choice. I’m so sorry.”

  Sophie scowled. “What are you saying? Of course we can leave Northwood. I don’t mind walking, but we can take the carriage if you prefer.”

  “Don’t mind walking…” Joseph chuckled, but the sound died almost immediately. He stroked a hand through her hair as he sighed. “It’s not as simple as that. If we try to leave, Northwood will kill us.”

  Sophie didn’t speak for a moment. The numb sensation was starting to fade, and the pain was returning. She examined Joseph’s face. It was pale and anxious, and there was a terrible resignation about his eyes. Northwood will kill us. She understood the words, but they made no sense. “No more secrets,” she said at last. “You’ve been lying to me ever since I came here. If you want me to trust you, you have to tell me everything.”

  “I will,” he said. “It’s been long overdue, my darling. Forgive me; I won’t conceal the matter any longer. But first, I need to get you inside. You’re half-frozen and bleeding.”

  Without replying, Sophie nestled her head against Joseph’s shoulder. He took that as a silent acceptance, lifted her, and resumed the long walk back to the house.

  Neither of them spoke as they passed through Northwood’s doors and crossed the silent foyer. Joseph carried her to the third floor and navigated the now-familiar hallways that led to her bedroom.

  “Not my room,” Sophie said. The memory of Marie, her fa
ce distorted in death, flashed across her eyes. She squeezed them closed so that she wouldn’t have to see it again.

  “Will mine be all right?”

  She gave a short nod, and Joseph brought her to the bedroom she’d seen on her first night at Northwood. It was just as clean and orderly as she remembered it. A fire had been lit, and it cut through the chill.

  Joseph carefully lowered her into the stuffed armchair in front of his fire. He left her for a moment, but when he returned, he was bearing thick blankets, which he wrapped around her.

  “Tell me about the house,” Sophie said.

  “In a moment. Let me clean your wound first.” Joseph pulled the rope that would summon the staff. Someone knocked at the door almost immediately, and Joseph spoke to the maid. Sophie couldn’t make out his words, but his tone was brusque. She took advantage of Joseph’s distraction and pulled the blanket away from her arm to check the cuts. The corpse’s teeth had created two semi-circles of punctures a few inches below her shoulder. The bleeding had stopped, but her arm was coated in gore.

  She covered the wound again when she heard the door close. Joseph pulled the second seat nearer and sat on its edge, his dark eyes scanning her face.

  Sophie felt as though she might explode from the questions and thoughts swimming through her mind. She was becoming more aware as the shock wore off and the fire warmed her, but she still struggled to put her thoughts into words.

  “Would you like some laudanum for the pain?” Joseph asked.

  Sophie shook her head. “It stops me from thinking clearly.”

  “You don’t have to tell me what happened if you’d prefer not to.” Joseph’s face was darker than she’d ever seen it, focussed and intense. “It would allow me to help you more if I knew, though.”

  Sophie turned to look through the window. The moon, large and bright, cast blue highlights over the treetops. “Rose killed Marie.”