The Rattler (Rattler Trilogy Book 1)

by P. A. Fielding

  The girl sensed she wasn’t alone. She heard the stairs creaking. “Hello? Sydney Ellwood? Is that you?” The sounds stopped. Silence. The cold sensation disappeared. “How spooky was that?” She waited. Nothing. Well, folks, it looks like that’s all there is for tonight – I don’t want this to get boring so, it’s back to bed. Alone!

  2

  Zoe was walking towards a popular supermarket when her mobile started to ring. Vana was displayed as the caller. “Hello you! How’s it going? Is it still alright to come round tonight, hun?” Vana was on her bed, surrounded by text books and paperwork. The room was small and cluttered, with clothes, a rucksack, and A4 folders stacked neatly on the floor.

  “Hey, Vana. Course it is. Just getting the supplies in. Want anything special?”

  “Just the usual, crisps and chocolate,” giggled her friend. “Vana, you’re so predictable – and easily pleased.”

  “Only when it comes to food, yes!”

  “See you later then.”

  Inside, the supermarket wasn’t busy – just a few old-aged pensioners, and a couple of young mums, with toddlers in tow, plodding along the aisles. Zoe pushed her trolley, thoughtfully, down the well-stocked aisles, picking up favourite items, along with the normal essentials such as bread and milk. She noticed an old lady, with tangled black and white hair, who seemed to be following her. “No, it can’t be, it’s just my mind playing tricks,” murmured Zoe; “must be getting paranoid.”

  After Zoe got the crisps and chocolate as requested by Vana, and helped an elderly lady to get a box of Cornflakes off the top shelf, she was almost done. She was just about to head off for the checkout when she was aware of the wonderful aroma of freshly baked bread and cakes. “These managers certainly know what they’re doing. If they don’t get you with their tasty samples, they get you with a whiff of freshly made cakes. We’re all just suckers.”

  She followed the tantalising smell to the area of the supermarket (situated at the back of the store so that customers had to walk past all the other goodies on sale, and be tempted to buy what they didn’t need – more psychology!) that was a dieter’s nightmare! What was it the diet leader had told one of her friends – smell all you want, just don’t touch.

  “Rubbish,” said Zoe, and placed two bags of jam doughnuts into the trolley, followed quickly by some vanilla slices. “Hm, two for a pound – heaven!”

  As she turned towards the checkouts someone bumped into her. It was Hagatha. “Whoops, sorry,” said Zoe. The old woman, with her matted black and white hair, stood there. She stared straight into Zoe’s eyes, and then gawped down at the contents of the trolley. “Little Miss Piggy,” she said, loudly. Zoe, stunned with fear, didn’t know what to do – run? Hide? Or, yell for help? However, it didn’t take long before everyone in the store stopped what they were doing, turned around, and joined in, shouting, “Little Miss Piggy! Little Miss Piggy!” It got louder and louder. Zoe began to cry. “It’s in the past,” she sobbed, covering her ears to block out the chants. She collapsed on the floor, coughing uncontrollably.

  3

  Zoe woke up from her nightmare, struggling for breath and clutching at her throat. She jumped out of bed, charged out of the bedroom, and dashed up the stairs to the bathroom. She came to a stop over the toilet, slumped to the floor, stuck two fingers down her throat, and made herself sick. “Just a bad dream, just a bad dream,” she mumbled. Her breathing became a little more controlled and she got to her feet. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and started to splash her face with cold water.

  Zoe’s emotions were everywhere. Her heart was still pounding, and she was sweating from head to toe. She splashed her face again, and scrubbed her teeth. She slowly calmed down. As she dried her face, she felt something in her right eye. She bent down to the washbasin and rinsed her eye with water. Then, as she looked back in the mirror, there she was – Hagatha, her matted black and white hair all over the place.

  Zoe freaked out, screamed, and fell to the floor. Her heart was pounding, and sweat poured from every pore. She frantically and hysterically looked around the bathroom. No-one. She was alone. Hagatha had disappeared. Zoe’s nerves were pushed to the limit; tears ran down her face and fell onto the floor. “It’s not real, and she’s not real,” she said, shaking her head. A ghostly voice whispered around the room, “But I am, dear, and I know you can hear me.” Zoe covered her ears. “I’m not listening! I’m not listening!” she repeated over and over again. Panic well and truly set in as every part of her body began to shake. A loud click from behind her made her turn, horrified. No-one there. But then, unnoticed by Zoe, the black shadow of a man glided past the door.

  The atmosphere eventually started to change; there was an air of calm and peace. Zoe stumbled to her feet, and peered out of the door. She was alone again. She ran across the landing, down the stairs, pulled the bedroom door closed and jumped into bed. With the duvet over her head, she willed herself to sleep...

  14: The day after last night

  1

  Tuesday morning, 10.30 am. Vana was knocking furiously on the front door. She took out her phone and dialled Zoe. “Come on, Zoe, where the hell are you? I’ve been banging on the door for the last ten minutes,” she grumbled, looking around the house for signs of life.

  Zoe struggled to wake up, turned towards the musical jangle coming from her phone, and answered it, drowsily. “Hello, my wake up call.”

  “It’s me! Come on, open up. I’m freezing my knockers off down here!”

  “Shit! Sorry hun. I’ll be right down.” Zoe struggled out of bed and went downstairs. She opened the front door. “Oh, my God!” cried Vana. “What’s happened to you? You look as if you’ve been on the roofies last night. You remind me of Carla.” Zoe looked a real mess; her face was pasty white, eyes black and blue, hair all over the place, and there was a distinctly sweaty smell. “Thanks, Vana! That’s not even funny! Remember what happened to her last year after a night out in Halls? The rapist was never found.”

  “Sorry, love. It’s just, well, you look a mess.”

  “Gee thanks.”

  “Come on, I’ll make some coffee whilst you get dressed.”

  2

  Zoe took a quick shower and came back down to the aroma of coffee and toast in the kitchen. “Right,” said Vana, “I want info. What’s been going on? What the hell happened last night?” Zoe sat at the table, head in hands. “To be quite honest, I don’t know. I can’t remember a thing. I might as well have been on the Rohypnol. The night’s a complete blank. All I know is that I feel like shit. It’s like the biggest hangover in the world – without the pleasure of the wine!”

  “Here,” replied her friend, “have some toast and coffee; that should help. Anyway, something must have happened because all that Jake keeps texting me about is the two videos you made last night.”

  “That I made?” Zoe was puzzled. Vana rolled her eyes. “Bloody hell, Zoe! Get your laptop; we need to have a look at these.” Zoe felt dizzy and confused, and staggered as she got up from the table. “Hey, hun. Stay there. I’ll get your Mac. Is it upstairs?”

  “Yes,” mumbled Zoe.

  3

  Vana returned a couple of minutes later, laptop in hand. She placed it on the table and booted it up. “Time to get to the bottom of this little mystery,” she said. The girls sat glued to the screen as the first recording started. “What’s that?” said Vana. “Quick! Turn it up!” The whispering noises Zoe thought she heard were now coming from the computer. “Holy shit! I deffo heard that,” yelled Vana. The friends could not tear their eyes away from the screen as the events of the previous night unfolded.

  They watched, silently, as Zoe walked towards the second floor and saw, clearly, the shadow of a man hiding behind the bathroom door as she reached the landing. “Effin’ Hell! What IS that? Did you see it?” said Vana, excitedly pointing at the screen. “Rewind it, let’s have another look.” Zoe rewound the video, and the image came into view again. “I don’t b
elieve it. It’s a shadow person,” said Zoe, pausing the machine.

  “What’s a shadow person?”

  “I can’t remember her name, but that woman on that ghost programme on television is always seeing them.” The girls continued to watch the video playing. “No wonder Jake’s been bothering you. I can’t believe this happened,” said Zoe. They watched in silence, seeing the orbs dance around in the basement, and then the discovery of the old newspaper. “This is fuckin’ fantastic!” said Vana, as Zoe passed her the newspaper. “Have a quiet read whilst I get us some more coffee,” replied Zoe.

  4

  Vana’s eyes widened as she read the article in the Daily Express. “Come on, let’s see the next video,” she said, enthusiastically. The video showed Zoe approaching the attic; Vana covered her face, peeking through opened fingers, but Zoe was bewildered – she could not remember any of this. “Well,” said Vana, taking a sip of coffee, “he was deffo up there with you. Are you sure watching it didn’t trigger anything off in your memory?”

  “Unfortunately not, but I’m so glad I managed to capture it.” Zoe was looking with interest at her Internet history, and saw that she had bookmarked the Manor Murderer. The girls read the reports with interest; the entire affair really captured Vana’s imagination. “I can’t believe this all ended with his arrest right here. Do you think he could have blocked your memory from last night? And, if so, why? I suppose all of this could explain why the house has been empty for so long. I guess people don’t want to buy a haunted house, and share it with the living dead.”

  Zoe took the cups to the sink. “Please don’t say that! I’ve got to sleep here, remember?”

  “Don’t worry, hun, I’m still staying. It doesn’t scare me.”

  Vana opened up her rucksack and took out a DVD. “I thought we could watch this tonight – it will certainly put us in the mood for spending a night in a haunted house,” she laughed. “What’s it about?” asked Zoe. “Well, it’s a PAF Brothers’ film about a serial killer who is captured, drugged, and then given a sex-change. It’s called The Way they Turn the Knife. It’s not actually scary, just a good thriller,” smiled Vana.

  5

  After a quick visit to the local takeaway for lunch, and a walk to clear Zoe’s head, the girls sat on the sofa as they waited for a message from Vana’s boyfriend, Matthew, to say he had set up the game Fall of Duties they had planned to play as a four player co-op game.

  “Have you spoken to your mum yet?”

  “Yes, they arrived safely. By the sounds of it, it’s perfect tanning weather.”

  “Lucky them! Have you told her what’s been going on?”

  “God, no! Can you imagine what she’d be like? She’d be pulling her hair out – she hates anything to do with the paranormal. Plus she’d only end up worrying about me.”

  “Your dad, then? Don’t you think they should know?”

  Zoe’s parents were very protective of her, and Mary, in particular, had found it hard when Zoe went off to Oxford. “I don’t know, Vana. They’ll think I’m going crazy. Aunt Sally would be OK about it, though. After my uncle died she really got into it, and saw Mediums and everything.”

  “Well, hun, there is certainly something going on here, and we’ve got the videos to prove it. Tonight should be very interesting indeed.” Vana could hardly contain her excitement. Zoe glanced at her but then a single beep on Vana’s phone and a Game Invite message on the top right corner of the TV screen helped changed the subject.

  15: Movement calling

  1

  After an afternoon’s session of Fall of Duties played against Matthew and one of his friends, the girls watched a pirate copy of the film MeSays. Zoe removed the disc from the DVD player. “Dad would absolutely kill me if he knew we had this,” she said. “I know,” replied Vana, “but having seen the trailers I just thought it might be fun.” Zoe placed the first disc back into its case, and put the next one into the machine.

  “In what way fun?”

  “Well, perhaps fun isn’t quite the right word; that was before I knew about the weird things happening here. It was actually filmed in a haunted building, and those EVP’s are real.”

  “EVP’s? Remind me?” Zoe sat beside her. “Electric voice phenomenon. It’s great! You set up a voice recorder and then ask questions. Sometimes an answer is picked up by the machine that can’t be heard by the human ear.”

  “That’s right. I remember now. Again, they used to use them on that television programme. So, they weren’t just added in for effects?”

  “No, deffo not, it was real. I read about it in an interview.”

  2

  It was now 7 pm; the girls were hungry and the pizza hadn’t arrived. “What time did we order the pizza?” asked Zoe.

  “About half an hour ago, I guess.”

  “It should be well on its way by now, surely.” Just then, there was a loud knock on the front door, which made them both jump; spooky films and girls go together like milk and cookies – and these two were no different. “Balls! That’ll be the pizza. You get that, Vana; he’s gonna think I’ve got a crush on him.” Zoe paused the film.

  “Is he cute?”

  “Kind of.”

  Vana grinned. “What, a lights off or lights on moment?” The pizza boy knocked again. “Just get the bloody door,” replied Zoe.

  Vana opened the front door and smiled at the delivery boy. “Hi there,” she said, suggestively. “Hi,” he replied, handing over the pizza and Coke. Her fingers brushed his hand gently as she gave him the discount voucher and some cash. She took the pizza, opened the box to check its contents and then put it down on the floor. “What time do you get off? You should come and join us,” she said, in a sexy, almost slutty voice.

  The embarrassed lad gave Vana her change, and watched as she bent down again, provocatively, to pick up the pizza. “I can’t; I really should get going,” he stammered, his eyes wandering over her body. “Your loss, not mine,” said Vana, smiling as she turned and closed the door.

  3

  It was way past midnight by the time they eventually went upstairs. They were lying on the bed, having a late night feast of crisps and chocolate, whilst watching television. “Zoe, all this bed-in needs now is the fellas.”

  “You could be right,” was her friend’s reply.

  Sometime later, the girls were asleep. They did not hear the sound of the front door gently closing, or the stairs creaking. They were not aware of the dark shadow which appeared on the landing and peeked round the bedroom door, watching them as they slept, before it continued up the stairs towards the attic.

  A loud bang woke the girls from their deep sleep. “What the effin’ hell was that?” cried a startled Vana.

  “It came from upstairs. Sounded like the attic door.”

  Vana was first out of the bed. “Hey, wait a minute, where are you going?” asked Zoe. “I’m going to see what the heck that was,” replied Vana; it didn’t take her long to bubble into life. “Wait for me, we need to stick together.” The girls grabbed their mobile phones. “Come on! Hurry up!” said Vana, excitedly, peering into the darkness on the landing. Zoe followed her enthusiastic friend, and they started towards the stairs.

  There was movement in the attic. It sounded like furniture being dragged over the floor. “There’s deffo someone up there,” whispered Zoe. “Do you think it’s a burglar?” Vana stared at her. “Don’t know. What do we do if it is? Go and grab something heavy.” Zoe rushed back into the bedroom, whilst Vana walked slowly around the landing, using her iPhone as a torch. She could feel a chill, and had the weird sensation that someone, or something, was watching her.

  Zoe returned a minute or so later and tapped Vana on the back. The girl jumped. “Shit, Zoe! I nearly pebble-dashed the floor!”

  “Sorry, hun. Here, take this, it’s all I could find.”

  “What the hell am I supposed to do with a wire coat hanger?”

  The girls cautiously approached the stairs lead
ing to the attic. The noises stopped. “Whoever is up there is trapped; they can’t get out unless they come by us,” said Vana. The atmosphere had changed. The temperature was Atlantic cold – it was freezing. After a few deep breaths, Vana slowly pushed open the attic door. The room was empty. “Oh that’s spooky, very spooky,” said Vana, walking around the attic. “Now do you believe me? I’ve not been making it up!” Vana turned towards Zoe. “I’ve always believed you hun, and this just confirms it.” She walked over to the chest and saw scratch marks on the floor. “Look, something or someone was deffo here. This chest has been moved. Come on, Zoe, give me a hand to move it over there.”

  The girls struggled but finally managed to move the chest. They looked down at the space where it had been. “What shall we do now?” asked Zoe.

  “Let’s check for any loose floorboards, like you found in the cellar.”

  “Why?”

  “Just humour me for a sec.”

  The girls felt around the floor and eventually came across a loose floorboard. Vana lifted it up, getting a splinter in her hand as she did so. “Bingo!” she exclaimed, as she reached down and triumphantly lifted up an old, musty-smelling book. Zoe, amazed at Vana’s idea of moving the chest, replaced the floorboard. “You’d certainly make one good detective. What made you look under the chest?”

  “Don’t know, really. I guess it just felt obvious – there was such a racket going on, and then seeing the marks on the floor just made me think it was worth a punt.” Zoe was impressed.

  The house had given up another relic.

  16: You don’t mess with the other side

  1

  3 am, and the girls were back in bed, leafing carefully through the journal. They needed to get warm again after their adventure in the freezing cold attic, and they were both freaked out by the night’s events. They discovered that this was Ellwood’s diary. He explained, in detail, the events which had haunted the family he had so loyally served. He insisted that he was not the Manor Murderer.