"To the living room." I rushed past Kade and broke into a run. Now that we forced him out of the basement and blessed all but the living room, he had only that one place left to go. No doubt about it ... we were in for it now.
A breeze blew through the living room, wildly ruffling the curtains and making the pictures on the walls rock back and forth. It was dark and cold and stunk to high heaven. Okay, maybe not heaven. It smelled like hell though. Literally.
The five of us stood in the doorway and looked in on the chaos with fascination because really, this was quite fantastic. We also looked on with acute trepidation for we were going to have to go in there and deal with it. But my gosh, you didn't see stuff like this every day. Not even those who went looking for it. In fact, many of those people never got to see anything. We were getting the full paranormal treatment.
Things were falling to the floor ... a lamp, books from the bookcase, pictures from the wall. And though I couldn't be totally sure, I heard what sounded like a low rumbling growl. Maybe it was just all the activity going on that made the noise but it was frightening never the less.
"We need to stay together," Mark said. Without taking his eyes off the scene going on in my living room, he continued in a quiet, even voice. "We'll link hands and head for the area in front of the fireplace ... which now, if I'm not mistaken, is right above the closed pentagram we just completed down in the basement. We'll form a circle there and begin the process of getting that thing out of this house once and for all. Kade you take my hand, Tess your other. Tess take Grace's hand and she'll also hold Don's."
"It can't hurt us. It will try to scare us into fear. Should it manage to do so, it will then seek a way in to mess with your mind." Grace looked at each of us, her expression stern. "You must not let it in. If you feel any pressure at all, imagine a light shining down from heaven and piercing the area like a laser." Grace looked at Kade pointedly. "Whether you believe it or not. Do it."
"Will it matter if I don't believe in this light? Won't that render it useless?"
Kade's face was a little pale. This had to be rather overwhelming for someone who hadn't been in the paranormal business very long. Hell, for that matter, it was a lot for someone who was active in the paranormal business. I hoped it wouldn't prove to be too much for him because this was my world now and would be as much until I died.
"It will work because you are doing it," Grace assured him. "The act itself is a leap of faith. Also, you'll be doing it because of what I just said so that gives your actions my intention. It will work. Just so long as you play along." She gave him a playful smile which was odd under the circumstance but then not so odd for someone of her caliber. "Fake it until you make it. There's a lot of power in that simple directive." She motioned for him to take my hand. "Let's do this."
I glanced at Don to see how he was doing for he was very quiet. Seeing the focus on his face, I didn’t doubt he was busy doing some internal work, preparing himself and doing what he could to ensure we all stayed safe.
Grace took my hand and Don's and then we all looked at Mark to lead the way. After a quick glance to ensure our hands were locked, he headed into the room.
I felt like a kindergartener on a field trip. That feeling went away, though, almost immediately. The first thing to hit me was a sense of panic. An image of Kade running out of the house and driving away in his car filled my mind and the image wouldn't let go. Sure I was having a premonition, I yanked on Mark's hand. "We need to get out of here. We'll try something else."
Mark held me firmly in his grip and must have seen the panic in my eyes because his gaze locked with mine. "Listen to me ... it's going to be fine. We can do this."
My glance slid to Kade's. He stood grim faced, his eyes staring straight ahead and I was sure he could see something I could not. "What is it, Kade?"
"It's Humphrey. He's waving us away."
That image of Kade leaving just became a little clearer. "Mark!" It was an appeal to do something.
"Who is Humphrey?" Don asked.
"He's one of the men killed in Afghanistan by the roadside explosion that also injured Kade." I looked to the area Kade was fixed on and saw nothing. How could he be seeing something that I couldn't even feel?
"It's feeding on your fear and vulnerabilities. Whatever you think you see, Kade ... there is nothing there. And whatever is causing your panic, Tess, it isn't real." Mark held out his free hand to Don. "Let's form into our circle. That should help diminish its ability to influence us."
I tried to get Kade to look at me but he wouldn't even glance in my direction. My fear grew and I knew I needed to push it away or it was going to defeat our whole purpose for being here.
The cold was intense. It hurt my lungs breathing it in. Mark started reciting the Lord's Prayer which at this point was starting to sound like a mantra and though my teeth were chattering, I joined in with determination.
Worried about Grace, I tried to turn and look at her but for some reason I couldn't move my head. That made my panic rise up again. I'd experienced this in dreams ... the inability to move ... but to experience it while wide awake was quite frightening. Though I wanted to tell Mark what was happening, I couldn't even do that. My voice faltered to nothing and finally it got so bad I couldn't even move my lips. Locked into position, I went through a private hell, unable to ask for help or even signal that something was wrong. Was I even holding anyone's hand anymore? All I could feel was a numbing cold.
Then my vision began to narrow into a pinpoint and I was viewing my living room through a tiny little opening at the end of a very long tunnel. A noisy breeze blew constantly making it hard to hear. In fact, I no longer could hear Mark talking.
All at once it went completely still and quiet. That pinpoint of light grew bigger and bigger until I could see that it wasn't my living room I was looking at. And just like that I was through the opening and standing inside a very rustic old cabin. Everything was made of roughly hewn wood ... the walls, the ceiling, the floor. A homemade ladder led to a loft which looked to be someone's bedroom. I could see a bed covered with a patchwork quilt and a night stand holding a lamp. Sort of like my hurricane lamp but not as nice. Though the loft suggested peacefulness, nothing up there stirred. The room around me, however, was in shambles. Dried crumbled weeds lay strewn everywhere. Bottles and jars and tins and baskets ... they lay in a scattered broken mess. Most of them were piled near the two windows off to my left. Directly ahead of me was a fireplace where a small cauldron hung from a hook over a pile of blackened ashes.
It was all so sudden and confusing that I didn't know what to make of it. Was I in the throes of a vision? But I was me and that's what made this all so confusing. Usually in a vision, I became the identity of whomever I was channeling. I was not channeling this. I was living it. Had I been transported somewhere? Oh God. Was I in another dimension? Another time? Could I get back?
The sound of weeping finally penetrated my awareness. It grew louder until I swung around and gaped with shock. An old woman lay crumpled on the floor. She was dressed all in black. Black dress, black boots, a black shawl. A young woman sat crouched over her. Both her hands were folded as if in prayer and she was rocking back and forth, holding her folded hands to her mouth as she continued to weep. A vision then?
The girl looked up and met my eyes. She stopped rocking and went completely still with shock.
"Who are you and where did you come from?"
She could see me? She could see me? "I'm Tess."
"Have you come for her?" The girl looked down at the lifeless body beside her and resumed her sobbing.
She was a pretty girl. Late teens or thereabouts. She had long dark hair parted in the middle and very straight. She too was wearing a dress. A long gray one. And black ankle boots. I wasn't quite sure what to do as I'd never had a vision in which I interacted with anyone. Not as me anyway.
Before I could figure out what to say, she was looking at me again and it was then that I noted ho
w dark her eyes were. Like Mary and her brother Adam. Their eyes were dark like that. Almost black. Though hers were more unnatural looking. They held secrets and power and knowledge. I found I could not continue to meet them and dropped my gaze.
"Have you come for her? You must be quick. He'll be back any minute and he must not find you."
"Who?"
"The Dark One." The girl's eyes filled with more tears and when they spilled down her cheeks they left a dark trail of sorrow. Was she wearing makeup then? I certainly didn’t notice any.
"What's your name?"
"Why?" The girl stood and faced me. She was slightly taller by an inch or two. She was thin but looked quite strong. "Why are you here?"
"I don't know." I looked at the old woman and said gently, "Is that Naylee?"
The girl gasped and stepped forward. She grabbed my arm and held me tight. Shock filtered through me. I could feel her! This was just so fantastically real. "Tell me please who you are. There's not much time!"
"I told you. I am Tess and I don't know how or why I am here." I covered her long slender fingered hand with my own. "Tell me your name."
"Isidora."
Oh my God! Could this be possible? How? Never had I interacted with people from the past. Not in this way. It was a dream. Mark said the Big Bad was using magic. Maybe he was tricking me.
"What do you know? You must tell me." Isidora shook my arm to regain my attention. "Please."
What on earth was I supposed to say? Elijah! I needed to know how he betrayed her. Maybe it would help me somehow. But what if this was a trick and it was the Big Bad trying to get information?
"You know who I am don't you?" Isidora let go of my arm and stepped back. "Naylee told me you would come. She said we were being watched by another but that I could trust you when you came. You must be the one she was talking about."
This was impossible. Now I knew it was a dream. Should I play along with it and try to figure out what the Big Bad was up to?
Isidora once again knelt next to the prone body on the floor. I took a step nearer but positioned myself so that I could keep an eye on the door ... which was wide open, as were the windows. It was pitch black outside. "Naylee told you I would come?"
"She said you would tell me things that I must share with Clay."
Clay? Who was Clay? Then it hit me. She was talking about Clayton Rowen, a distant relative of my friend Mary. He had also been Elijah's friend. A fact I learned while resolving Mary’s ghostly problems. "Where is Elijah?"
Isidora's dark eyes widened with surprise then narrowed. "He will come. I don't care what that horrible man says. He will come."
"What did the Dark One tell you?"
"He gave me a note. It looks like Elijah's writing but ..." she shook her head vehemently. "He would never leave me. He would never send that man here."
"What did the note say?"
"First you must tell me what it is I will be sharing with Clay."
But I didn't know what to say. What was I supposed to tell her? Then I remembered the vision I shared with Isidora's mother not too long ago and the impressions that came to me about Isidora herself. "All I know about Clay is what you will share with him about the Buck curse."
"The Buck curse? Buck who?"
"Jonathan Buck." How bizarre this all was proving to be! Here again I was talking about Bucksport's town founder Jonathan Buck and playing a part in his cursed tombstone.
Isidora stood and came at me so fast I didn't have time to react. She grabbed my arms and looked at me with such an intent expression that I found it disturbing. "What are you saying? The Buck family is cursed?"
"Images will appear on his graveside monument and a rumor will spread that a witch has cursed his family. But it's about the treasure Clay and Elijah are trying to find. It won't be found until over a hundred years later and it will be by your family. It will come just in time to save them from financial ruin!"
Isidora's eyes widened in disbelief. "Tell me everything."
And so I shared with her what I learned during my search for the truth about the Jonathan Buck curse. She listened to it all without saying a word and I knew she was committing it to memory. But how long would she have to worry about that? Not long. Sadly.
I was scrambling for the words to warn her that she needed to be careful when the air started sparking with static and the hairs stood up on my arm. He was coming.
Isidora’s grip tightened on my arms. "What shall I do about Naylee?"
"She's done. You must save yourself."
"I must know what has happened to Elijah."
And then a man appeared in the doorway. He was very tall and thin, his features sharp, almost hawk like. His skin complexion was dark though he was not black, maybe of European descent though I couldn’t say for sure. His hair was black and his eyes were as dark as Isidora's. A fact I found quite interesting. The energy around him swirled even darker than his appearance. Now I understood the meaning of calling him "the Dark One" for he most certainly was that.
Surprisingly, he stood at the threshold but did not enter. I wondered why and had a strange feeling it was because of me.
"You might keep me out of here ... but you cannot make me leave. You have angered the wrong person." He didn't speak and yet I heard him as clearly as I would if he'd spoken out loud. His voice was raspy and it made my skin crawl. And oddly, it sounded familiar.
"You can't win here," I told him, feeling decidedly brave because he didn't or couldn't enter the small cottage. That one small thing gave me hope. He could be beaten.
"You must go! Find Elijah and send him to me." Isidora gave me a small push and I fell forward with a whoosh. But I didn't land on the floor. I fell through space falling faster and faster. Frantically I flung my hands about in an effort to find purchase, to grab something, anything, but there was nothing. Nothing.
And then I heard a voice calling me and I focused on its sound while trying to locate it in the vast emptiness around me. Kade! It was Kade. I fixed on his voice and rushed faster through space though the feeling was no longer that of falling. Instead I felt a tugging sensation around the region of my heart and would almost swear I was being reeled in. Kade’s voice grew louder and then I could see light and struggled to reach it. So far above me. So very far. I held up my hands and someone wrapped theirs around them. The grip was firm and recognizable. Kade!
"Open your eyes, Tess."
I thought they were open. I'd been staring so hard at that light, focusing on it, reaching for it. But now I realized that they were in fact closed. My lids lifted and there he was. His beloved worried face, hovering close to mine.
"Are you okay?"
A quick glance around told me I was laying on my living room sofa. Don, Grace and Mark stood on either side of him looking as anxious as he was. "What happened?"
"Well, the Big Bad as you call it got a little crazy and then you passed out." Grace nudged Kade aside to take one of my hands from his grasp. "What happened, dear?"
"I feel like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. I've just been over the rainbow and met the horrible wizard himself!"
"You met the Big Bad?" Kade asked, his voice rising with concern.
"I'm pretty sure it was him. But I was with Isidora and Naylee, Kade. Naylee was dead though."
"Who are Isidora and Naylee?" Grace asked.
"They are in a story I am writing but I think they are real. I think they used to live here and that the Big Bad killed them." I looked at the three faces staring down at me and knew they were trying to get a reading on things. "Is he gone then?"
But I knew the answer to that. He told me already. I could keep him out but I couldn't make him leave.
"He's not in the house anymore but I don't think we vanquished him," Mark said.
No he most certainly wasn't vanquished. So now what?
"You need to figure out who it is. Calling him by name will give you the advantage you need over him," Grace told me.
Well I k
new what he looked like. And with any luck, I would come up with a name to fit that despicable face. One thing for certain, he was going to up his game and we had precious little time to beat him at it. I had the worst feeling that the connection we made ... whether it was through a dream or whatever that was I just experienced ... it would be something he could use as an advantage over me. Only one of us could come out of this a victor. To the winner goes the house. And I intended to win.
Chapter 19
Although Mark, Grace, Don and Kade continued to talk around me, I wasn't focused on what they were saying because I was too busy with my own confused thoughts. Impressions, ideas and revelations spun through my head and none of it made much sense. It wasn't until Grace patted my hand to get my attention that I refocused. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"If you are sure you are okay, we are going to head out for home. I am quite tired, dear. Is there anything you want to share with us before we go?"
I told them about my experience and they all took it with the same degree of surprise that I did. No one knew quite what to make of it. Since I was feeling much better, I made to push myself up from the couch and Kade was quick to wrap an arm around me and helped me stand. He continued to hold me next to him as we walked with the others to the front door.
My living room was a mess. "What happened after I passed out?"
"Nothing. Everything went deadly still," Mark said. "Of course, we were worried about you and that's where our entire focus went. We're pretty sure the entity disappeared the same time you collapsed but again, we weren't paying attention so can't be sure."
"In fact, we thought for a brief moment that it had gone into you, my dear. Imagine our relief when you didn't rise up off the floor and float into the air spewing obscenities!" Grace's expression made it quite clear that she had pictured just that and then she began to laugh. After a very brief pause we were all laughing with her. It was just such a relief and it was nice to let out our bottled up anxiety with a good dose of amusement. Laughter really was the best medicine ... for every type of dissonance.
Vanquishing Ghosts (Tess Schafer-Medium) Page 26