by Sara Clancy
Chapter 12
It didn’t take long for Draciana to regain control of where they were going. She moved with conviction through the rooms, passing from hidden passageways to main areas without the slightest hesitation. Did the gremlins not affect her? Jealously came with the thought but left just as quickly. They had left Abe’s laughter behind, but he couldn’t shake the thought that he was always right behind.
They didn’t stop running until they staggered into the kitchen. Bracing his hands against the table, Mihail tried to catch his breath and settle his mind. It had been hard to keep all the items in his hands, and he dumped them on the counter. Seeing the phone, he jabbed at the screen with shaking thumbs.
“We should have reception here,” he panted. “Maybe I can call them back.”
Draciana opened a drawer and pulled out a large knife.
“No,” he said sharply. “We’re not killing Abe.”
Her eyes narrowed on him with a dark glare that might have been enough to break his resolve before. She didn’t let go of the knife.
“I have a Taser,” he said as he held it up. “I can handle this without anyone dying.”
It didn’t matter how he tried to hold or present it, his bravery was only ever a façade, and one that was quickly slipping out if his reach. He relished the opportunity to put down the weapon in exchange for his phone. Typing the message out, he translated it and held the phone towards his grandmother. It took a little coaxing but she eventually came close enough to read the screen. While it was a small victory, he almost sagged with utter relief when Draciana put down her knife and snatched the phone from his fingers. The normal creaks and groans of the house made him flinch and he could barely keep his eyes from the two entrances long enough to read her message. The two entrances that you know of, a voice in the back of his head whispered.
“He’s not Abe anymore,” Mihail read aloud.
He had turned to her before he recalled he needed to use the phone. It was hard to condense everything that needed to be said. So he kept to the basics. Telling her that he knew Abe was possessed and reaffirming that they weren’t going to kill him. As he translated the message, the words she had spoken while cocking the gun worked its way through his panic. He knew the word. It was at the back of his mind but he couldn’t quite reach it. So, after she had read his message, he pulled the phone back before she could reply. ‘Goodbye?’ He read and reread the translation. She said ‘Goodbye Sarina’. She knows who’s in Abe?
Typing out the question, he watched her face carefully as she read it, searching for any sign of recognition. It came in the form of a slight twitch of her lips and a lift of her chin. The message she wrote to him was corrected more than once before she allowed him to see it. Mihail struggled just as much to read it. The words were clear but he couldn’t believe them.
‘Sarina Albu was my friend. Always odd. Troubled. She lived here with me and your grandfather. But when your mother was born, she became violent, deranged. She hurt your mother. Almost killed her. I confronted her on the battlement. We struggled. She fell. Drowned in the lake, but her soul remained.’
Mihail swallowed thickly as he reread it. He had felt Sarina’s fear as she fell. The terror of icy water slowly strangling the life out of him. He knew it because she made sure that he had felt it.
“Why did you stay here?” he asked aloud before remembering to type it out.
‘It was my fault. I didn’t get her help when she needed it. I thought we could live peacefully until she tried to hurt you. I brought in a priest but she didn’t want to leave. Sealing her within the nesting doll was the only way to bring her peace. I became her caretaker.’
“And I opened it,” he muttered.
Draciana nodded softly and placed a hand gently on his shoulder before retreating to type out the next message.
‘We need to put her to rest.’
“How?” he couldn’t keep himself from saying aloud as he typed the message.
‘Take her back to the lake.’
“I’m not killing Abe.”
‘We only need her to think that we will. When she leaps out of his body, we can seal her again.’
He blinked at the message, a new sense of hope battling through his hopelessness. Hurriedly, he typed out, “Do you know how to do that?”
She nodded.
‘I remember what the priest did. All you need to do is get him into the lake. Let him think he’s going to drown.’
Mihail was about to ask how he was supposed to achieve any of that when a crash made their heads snap up. He couldn’t tell which door the noise had come from. Pushing the phone into his pocket, his fingers brushed against his own waterlogged device. He had completely forgotten that his own phone had been ruined when he had been dragged back into the water. The reminder that it was Abe’s phone gave him a little shot of hope. It would be a lot easier for Abe’s parents to get in contact with them if it was Abe’s phone.
The noise came again, this time closer. Making sure that he had possession of the gun, he gave his grandmother the Taser and led her towards the sink. The pantry would be the first place Sarina would look. And he wasn’t going to run the risk of them getting locked in the walk-in fridge. After his cleaning spree, he knew which cupboards had just enough room to squeeze in people as small as them. Once she was safely within the cabinet, Mihail had just enough time to make it into his own hiding place. His feet knocked against the pots and pans as he settled and inched the door closed.
The kitchen door slammed open, hard enough to make the walls rattle and hide Mihail’s movements. His heart pounded so fast that it left him lightheaded. Choking down his heavy pants, Mihail tipped his head to the side to see through the gap. The moonlight illuminated the room with shades of silver. But the thin gap let him see little else by the opposite wall. The first footsteps into the room made him jump. He clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle a scream, but he couldn’t stop himself from breathing hard through his nose.
A shadow crossed the gap. Mihail pushed himself back before he could stop himself. Desperately clenching his muscles, he stopped before he kicked the pans, but his gun still shifted over his lap, producing little clicks that seemed like screams in the silence. The footsteps halted.
“Draciana?” a voice called.
It was Abe’s deep baritone. But there was something weaving within it, another voice merging with his, like two people speaking at once. The second voice was distinctly female. Mihail squeezed his eyes shut, fearful tears brimming on his lashes and threatening to fall.
“Mihail,” the twisted voice taunted. “Are you here, little Mihail? Come out. I have so many games to teach you.”
Mihail tensed. The words sunk deep into his head and dredged up a dozen, long forgotten memories. Each memory of the blue woman trying to lure him from his room, urging him to jump. From the battlement, the edge of the observatory, his bedroom window. She was always asking him to jump and promising that he would fly.
Light filled the cabinet an instant before the chime began to announce an incoming Skype call. Mihail came to his senses and fumbled with the device, trying to silence it. The cabinet door ripped open. Almost instantly, strong hands wrapped around his throat and hurled him out. Mihail smacked against the tiles and slid until he hit the far wall. Wheezing through the pain, he groped blindly for the phone, the gun, but found neither. The tune still played as Mihail sat up and caught sight of Abe. Instead of stalking towards him, Abe stayed on the other side of the room, the twisted smile still curving his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around the knife Bunica Draciana had left there.
He scraped the length of the metal across the edge of the counter. The moonlight caught on the blade, the flash making Mihail’s heart freeze. Forcing himself onto his feet, he tried to steady himself against the wall. Abe’s smile was tinged with fresh blood. The remains of his shirt were gone, leaving his torso on display, highlighting the vast difference in their
forms. You’re not going to win this, a voice whispered in the back of Mihail’s mind. Broken as he was, bloody and beaten, Abe could still crush Mihail’s skull with one hand. Abe’s head dipped to the side. He smacked the blade against his palm again, making blood well from the point of contact and drip onto the floor. Mihail’s breath caught with each blow. He jolted to the side and Abe countered.
“Where is she?” Abe asked, his dual voice battling over the words.
Refusing to let his eyes even flinch towards the cabinet, he instead looked at the door.
“You can’t win this. This body is stronger than yours.”
“Yeah,” Mihail took a deep breath and balled his hands. It didn’t stop them from shaking. “But I’m faster.”
Mihail bolted for the closest door, the one that opened into the kitchen, and pushed his way through. Abe followed an instant after, shattering the wood of the door into a hailstorm of splinters. They rained down against Mihail’s back as he ran around the edge of the table. As he sprinted down the length of it, racing towards the far exit, he heard Abe leap onto the table. The wood clattered and the fine displays shattered as he chased Mihail down. Mihail didn’t pause, didn’t look back, his eyes fixed on the door before him.
Like before, he was able to keep a few paces ahead of Abe. His massive frame made it harder for him to move as quick, or change directions swiftly. Agility was Mihail’s one advantage and he was determined to use it for everything he could. Weaving his way through the narrow corridors and ancient furniture, Mihail found himself back in the main foyer. The open space allowed him to push himself into a full out sprint. Abe was still behind him, bellowing out his name and charging towards him like an approaching storm.
The doors were still wide open, just as they had left them, offering him a glimpse of the outside world. As he came nearer, the towering hunks of wood began to close. Panic pulsed through him, carried on his rampaging heartbeat and spurring him on. He ran with a speed he hadn’t known he was capable of. Still, the narrow gap was almost too thin for him to pass through. He battered against the sides, pushing and shoving as the doors combined to squeeze him. Forced onto his side, the edge digging into his stomach and his spine, he glanced behind. Abe was quickly closing the distance between them, his face twisted into a mask of pure rage.
Reaching through the gap, Mihail braced his hands on the sides and pulled himself through. It felt like the door edges were scraping across his bones as he ripped himself free. Tumbling over the stones, he flipped over onto his back, scrambling away as Abe roared in impotent rage. The doors closed with a booming crash that shook the ground. Mihail’s eyes were locked onto the tip of the knife that was trapped between the doors. My head was there.
It took a concentrated effort to push the thought aside. And even then he had to remind himself that it wasn’t really Abe. Snow brushed against his skin as he got onto his feet and heaved a few breaths. Each one brought a new spike of pain. He hugged his stomach, trying to keep himself together for just a little longer. Ice slicked the stones, tripping up his steps as he hobbled towards the side entrance. The open drawbridge taunted him as he passed. Beckoning him. Offering a way out if he was desperate enough to take it. One quick conversation with Bunica isn’t a plan, a voice in his head whispered. You could go into town. Bring back help.
Even as the unwanted thoughts bubbled into his mind, he knew he wasn’t going to listen. There was a chance Bunica Draciana could hold him to their plan. And if so, he wasn’t about to leave her alone. This knowledge didn’t make passing by the exit any easier. He kept his eyes locked on the door in a desperate attempt to keep himself from straying.
The snow grew thicker, reducing his limited sight and turning his blood to ice. But all the while, the moonlight continued to shine. Mihail glanced up, still able to see the stars. It’s always colder in the castle. In his haste, he failed to spot the ice patch in the threshold. He slipped the moment he hit it, his head bouncing off the wall as he fell. Pain sliced up his knee as it cracked against the ice and stone. But it couldn’t compare to the pounding in his head. Cupping his temples, he leaned forward until the frost of the floor cooled his forehead. It helped a little but still, he could barely see straight.
The solid thud made his head snap back up. He watched as the front door bucked on its hinges in time with the booming noise. Mihail knew instantly that Sarina was hurling Abe’s body at the door, trying to break it open. If she didn’t close it, who did? A part of him wanted to believe that it was his grandfather. That even from beyond the grave, he was still trying to help his family, protect his wife. All the other options that crossed his mind terrified him. Most of them reduced him to just a pawn in a game between demons and the dead.
His moment of contemplation ended the second the lock snapped and the door burst open. Mihail hurled himself behind the nearest wall, managing to hide himself before Abe regained his footing. Don’t run! his mind screamed at his body, but it was still hard to listen. You need him to follow. Bunica needs time to prepare down here. But it was watching Abe straightening that forced Mihail’s body to listen to reason. No longer under Abe’s control, the sheer presence of his body scared Mihail more than anything else he had seen. Everything about him screamed of predatory intent. Sarina wasn’t going to stop until she killed them.
The only way Mihail could get Abe in that water against his will would have to be a trick. And the only one he could think of was the same trap that had worked on him. Lure him to the battlement. Catch him by surprise. Knock him off. He didn’t let himself think beyond that. This has to work. You have to make it work. Not wanting to tip his hand so soon, Mihail glanced around for something that could catch Sarina’s attention but not her suspicion. Reaching into his pocket, he pushed past his phone and found his lucky button.
Holding the metal disk between his fingers, he smacked his hand against the wall as he lunged up to his feet. It made a disappointingly small sound. He wasn’t sure that Sarina would hear it. The fear was dispelled almost instantly as Abe charged towards his hiding place.
Mihail didn’t bother to visually check and instead ran up the staircase. There was little need, anyway. He got through the first door, barely remembering the sudden drop off before he ran right over it. It made him drop and scramble, one foot dropping over the edge before he was able to rebalance. He was up the next flight of stairs by the time Abe managed to follow. Larger and with more momentum, he had a harder time adjusting to the short stop and sudden change. Pausing at the next door, Mihail snuck a glimpse back. Abe had fallen hard, his torso landing upon the stone while his legs were left dangling over the edge. He had to fight his urge to go back and help.
Mihail took the first three stairs of the next flight before remembering the sheer drop could send Abe tumbling to his death. He jogged back down and opened the door wide, hoping that exposing it would reduce the risk. Making this decision gave Abe enough time to close the distance between them. Close enough that Abe could slash Mihail’s head. With a scream, Mihail leaped back. The tip sliced easily through his jacket like butter and slipped over his skin like fire. Blood seeped into the tattered remains of his shirt, but it wasn’t deep enough to splash across the stone floor.
Mihail threw himself back, out of Abe’s range, and raced up the stairs again. It took Sarina a moment to maneuver Abe’s body around the curve to follow. Mihail managed to get to the top of the stairs before his pursuer could follow. The moment he set foot onto the walkway, leaving behind the safety of the building, the wind struck him like a physical blow. Mihail staggered with the force of it and was almost thrown over the edge.
Gripping the edge, he forced himself to keep going, needing to get to the next battlement before Abe caught up. Snow lashed across his face as he raced to his destination. It was only once he had reached his destination that he realized he had completely forgotten the layout of the space. There was no place for him to hide. The realization made him desperate. Glancing around the space, he searched
for something – anything – that might help him. Everything was obscured by snow and darkness. He couldn’t even be sure that he was actually over the pond. Time’s running out. Make a choice. The thought entered his head but only fed into his panic. Do something! But he knew it wasn’t as simple as that. It wasn’t just ‘something’ that they needed. Bunica Draciana and Abe both needed him to make the right decision. And they needed him to do it now.
The edge of his lucky button dug into the cut of his palm as he balled his hands. Blood soaked into his bandage. A damp heat that burned his frozen hand. Mihail barely felt it. Panic had filled his mind and emptied it all over his thoughts. He grabbed at the sides of his skull like he could force away the terrified static. Strands of his hair twisted around his clawing fingers until they ripped from the roots. Do something, you idiot! Abe’s footsteps were coming closer, growing louder as they rolled around the empty space. There wasn’t anything he could use. Just cool stonewalls, narrow windows, and one pathway that was lost to the nighttime abyss. Abe was steps from the door. Choose now or you lose your chance.
Throwing caution aside, Mihail ran to the window and put his leg through it. The snow that covered the tiles shifted as it was squashed under his shoe. Putting his hands on the sides of the window frame, he pulled himself through. It was a tight squeeze, the stones coming together tightly enough that they almost trapped him in place. But he could hear Abe’s growl of rage and didn’t care if it skinned him to the bone; he was fitting through. His foot slipped as it took his weight. Falling through the space, his back smacked around the tiles and he began to slide. He remembered how tiny the ledge was, with barely enough room to fit his complete length. He dug his heels in and curled onto his side, managing to bring himself to a stop. The tiles shattered into shrapnel and bombarded the back of his head.
Scooting only a few more inches to the side brought Mihail to the edge of the balcony. Ensured that he was as far away as possible, he looked back. The knife glistened in the moonlight as it swiped towards his face. But Abe’s arm was too thick, his chest too broad. There was no way he could fit through the window. He could hear Abe’s grunted breath as he slashed about blindly. The wind created by the knife streaked across Mihail’s face. He was just an inch away from it slicing into his eye. So he froze. He held his breath and locked his muscles, and shifted his gaze to the arm coming from the window instead of the blade.