“The windows are boarded up,” Chloe says as she peers at the mansion through the hedge opening. “How are we supposed to see whatever it is you want us to see with boarded up windows?”
“I bet there’s a crack in the boards or a portion of a board is missing,” Brenae says.
“Aye, you are correct, Bre,” Colette says. “You will have to take turns looking through the crack. You will be happy you remained unflappable when it finally comes to your turn to see what you are about to see.”
Brenae thinks to herself, Unflappable? Where in the world did she come up with that word? Must be a Scottish thingamabob.
Diana Jane says nervously, “Why can’t you tell us what you saw, what we are about to see? Just being outside these stinky hedges gives me the willies.”
“If I told you what I saw,” Colette spreads her arms out wide, “you would never really believe me. As they say, seeing is believing. Now follow me. No more chitchat from this location going forward! Or, as we say in Scotland, haud your wheest. Be quiet!”
After creeping through the hedge opening and crawling the one hundred or so feet to the base of the building, the teenagers gather on the porch. They are on their hands and knees.
“Uh-oh,” Colette whispers, “the plank that I was looking through a while ago has broken away from the other boards. I must have dislodged it when I was here. That’s all the better. This way the six of us can peek through the opening at the same time.” She places her forefinger to her lips. “Carefully now and as silently as a sextet of mice.”
“Is she alive?” Diana Jane whispers apprehensively.
Diana Jane and the others are lying on their stomachs as they stare wide-eyed through the gaps of the wooden boards. They are looking at the bloodstained, lifeless body of an older woman. The woman is hanging horizontally about ten feet from the floor from strands of twine that disappear into the cathedral ceiling. The twine is attached to the woman’s wrists and ankles.
The woman is shoeless and wearing a tattered, brown gown. Her gray hair is cropped short, but it is long enough to cover her face. Droplets of bright red blood are dripping onto the floor from an unseen injury on her head. The blood has pooled into a six-inch circle on the floor.
“Darned if I know if she is alive,” Brenae says in a soft voice. “If she is, something knocked her out cold, or, what is worse, she has bled to death. Look at the way she is hanging by that twine! There is no way a human being can hang by her ankles and wrists and not buckle at the joints. She should collapse within herself at the waist, elbows, and knees. Instead, she is hanging parallel to the floor as stiff as a board! It isn’t natural to be hanging horizontally like that!”
Sophia whispers, “Not if rigor mortis has set in. A body can go stiff like that once postmortem rigidity has set in. I once saw a cat in that very same posture, horizontal to the ground like this woman. It died when it touched a live, bare wire outside my friend’s house. It was horrible to look at, but it was not as frightening as this.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Brenae offers. “Then again, a ten-pound cat is one thing while a large human being is something else entirely. There is no way this is normal.”
Chloe whispers, “If she has any feelings whatsoever in her body, she has to be hurting like the dickens! As Bre said, hanging like that isn’t natural. Look at her hands and feet. They are pure white like there is no blood remaining in them!”
Colette whispers, “Does anyone know who she is? I am fairly new in town, so other than you five and a handful of my classmates; I don’t know anybody around town. Who is she?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Sophia stammers. “Boy, does she ever look creepy or what?” She pokes James on his shoulder. “How about you, Jay? Do you know who she is?”
“Nope,” James replies. “I haven’t the foggiest idea. What do you say we try to remove some of these boards and see if we can get her down from there? Anybody game to join me inside?”
“Not me,” Colette says. “I think we should call the police.” She glances at the others. “What do all of you think?”
Brenae says, “I do not think it is the right thing to do, to call the police. For starters, something in my gut is telling me if we call the police no one is going to believe us. Besides, we could find ourselves in deep kimchi for trespassing.” She points over her shoulder with her thumb. “There are like a gazillion no trespassing signs back there. I do not want to go to the clink, especially if what we are seeing is real.”
Diana Jane whispers, “Yeah, going to prison for trespassing and disturbing the dead, or worse, murder, is not my cup of tea. Then Puppet will have succeeded.”
Chloe shakes her head as she glares at Diana Jane. She says, “Please, Diana Jane, don’t say that. We do not know if the woman is dead or if she is alive. We do not know if she is real! We do not know if Puppet has anything to do with this. Just because the woman is hanging by strands of twine doesn’t suggest Puppet is involved. The twine may be nothing more than a coincidence. We must be careful not to jump to conclusions.”
Brenae says in a less than pleasant tone, “I dislike having to say this, Chloe, but I think you are incorrect. I also dislike saying this, but I think you are in denial. You are in denial hoping with all your heart, just like me and the others, that what we are seeing has nothing to do with Puppet.” She sticks her hand between the boards and points her forefinger at the woman.
“Those strands of twine are not a coincidence, Chloe. Your two nasty experiences, the puppety nightmare and seeing Colette in the basement hanging from twine, were no coincidences. Colette seeing you in the basement as she hung from twine while playing her hammered dulcimer was no coincidence. Diana Jane’s astonishing, horrible vision that she was dying thanks to strands of twine was no coincidence. What Jay and I experienced with Diana Jane’s coil of twine was no coincidence.” She glances around at the group. “When you take all of those things and combine them with what we see at this very moment, everything points to the Loser, Puppet. Besides, I would recognize the Loser’s handiwork anywhere. That twine is his! There is no doubt in my mind.”
Sophia says, “I’ll tell you one thing I know for certain. Whatever state this woman is in, or who is responsible for her situation, what we are seeing is scaring the bejesus out of yours truly.” She looks at her friends one after the other. “How about the rest of you?”
Diana Jane suddenly cries out, “Oh, my God! I think she is moving! See? Is it my imagination or is she moving ever so slightly a little bit at a time?”
James says calmly, “Could be a breeze.”
Brenae says bluntly, “I don’t see her moving.”
Chloe sticks her finger into her mouth, and then she holds it high in the air to test if there is a breeze. “What breeze, Jay? There is no breeze outside, so I seriously doubt there is a breeze inside.”
Colette says, “Okay, everyone, what do you want to do? Do you want to hang around here, no pun intended, looking at this creepiness? It isn’t getting us anywhere except scaring us half to death!”
Brenae begins to crawl backward on all fours. She whispers, “Yeah, it is time to leave. We need to find a quiet place and talk this over. I have serious —”
Before she can finish her sentence, Diana Jane suddenly screams, “Oh, my God, she is coming after us! Look out!”
Diana Jane suddenly stands. She quickly turns around to scramble off the porch. In her haste, she trips over Brenae who is crawling near the edge. The two of them tumble sideways from the porch onto the grass.
Brenae shouts, “Hey, watch where you’re going!”
“Sorry, Bre,” Diana Jane whispers in a frightened tone, “but we have to get the heck out of here!”
Brenae replies, “I agree. However, we need to wait for the others.” She looks up at the porch. James is standing motionless. Chloe, Colette, and Sophia are on their hands and knees as they continue to stare through the opening in the boards.
Suddenly, Colette lets out a horri
ble scream. She yells, “Will you look at that! She is vertical like she is hanging from a cross! Oh, no! Look out, everyone! She is diving toward us! We need to get out of here fast!”
A hideous, terrifyingly loud, high-pitched screech suddenly springs from inside the mansion. Chloe, Colette, Sophia, and Diana Jane cover their ears with their hands. James starts to move his hands to cover his ears. Then he places his hands to his sides. He impassively stares at the three girls crouched on the porch.
As she covers her ears with her hands, Chloe screams, “Tell her to stop. I cannot stand her shrieks! They are deafening! Horrible! They are going to drive me insane!” She is about to stand up, and then she hesitates. She stares at Colette. She screams, “God, no! Colette is halfway into the opening between the boards! In a second or two she will disappear inside completely! We must help her!”
Colette screams, “Help me, Jay! She has me by the arms! She is trying to pull me inside! Help me, please! I beg of you, help!”
Chloe shouts, “Jay, Sophia! Help me to pull Colette back outside! Grab her legs.” She glances over at Brenae and Diana Jane. They are sitting on the grass staring. “Bre, Diana Jane, get up here and help us!”
In response to Colette and Chloe’s shouts, James does not move. Neither does Brenae. Nevertheless, Diana Jane does. She jumps onto the porch and drops down on her knees. Along with Chloe and Sophia, Diana Jane begins to pull forcefully on Colette’s ankles.
Brenae suddenly stands. She places her hands on her hips, and then she rears back and hollers as loudly as her petite, five-foot-two-inch physique can mobilize a mighty, forceful shout.
“Everyone, stop! Stop now, I say! What you think is happening is not real! Stop it before you pull Colette’s feet off her legs! You are going to hurt her. Stop pulling!”
Brenae scampers onto the porch. She seizes her female friends by their shoulders and yanks them to their feet one after the other. After they are standing, they stare without blinking as if they are in a hypnotic trance. They also are trembling nonstop. Brenae shouts each of her friend’s names one by one.
“Colette! Chloe! Sophia! Diana Jane! You look at me right now!” She claps her hands loudly. “I said look at me! Do it now!”
It takes at least a minute before Brenae’s shouts register into her friends’ consciousness. They begin to look around slowly.
James continues to stare blankly at his friends. Brenae snaps her fingers two times in front of his eyes. He looks at Brenae. “What is it, Bre?”
Brenae says in a commanding, authoritative tone, “Help me get them out of here. You take Colette and Chloe by their arms. Walk them to the opening in the hedges. I will help Sophia and Diana Jane. Now move, Jay, move!”
CHAPTER NINE
INSURRECTION
“You too can become immortal!”
Puppet and Misters Cheaply and Sorrie are standing in the stunningly decorated, spacious living room on the second floor of the White Mansion. Robert is sitting on the couch at the far end of the room. He is ignoring what the others are saying while he seems to stare at a book that is on his lap.
Luxurious, handmade furniture from the Victorian era (1837 – 1901) adorn the living room. The room also is overflowing with hand-carved wooden figurines and precious porcelain antiques from the American Colonial and Revolutionary eras. Beautiful, priceless paintings adorn the four walls. Along with everything else in the mansion, the occupants stole all of the items in the living room.
The Storm on the Sea of Galilee, painted by Rembrandt van Rijn in 1633, hangs above the fireplace mantel. The masterpiece is one of 13 priceless paintings stolen on March 18, 1990, from the Isabella Steward Gardner Museum, Boston, Massachusetts. The 13 pieces are worth over $500 million. One of the 13 stolen pieces includes the painting Landscape with an Obelisk believed to have been painted by Rembrandt. The priceless painting is hanging between two large windows in the dining room.
When they stole the paintings, Puppet and Mister Sorrie had posed as two policemen responding to a disturbance call in the museum. They tied up the guards, and then they took their time collecting the 13 works of art. The Concert, by Vermeer, valued at over $200 million, was also stolen. They also took masterpieces by Degas and Manet. The museum has not recovered any of the 13 stolen items. There is a $10,000,000 reward for anyone who knows the whereabouts of the 13 invaluable paintings.
Neighbors correctly assumed someone lives in the White Mansion. Puppet and Robert have occupied the mansion since the mid-1900s, ever since they murdered Doctor White as he slept. The murder occurred on a stormy night in late autumn of 1953. It was the day after Doctor White signed the decree allowing farmers to bush hog the grass of the estate. Puppet and Robert also murdered Doctor White’s two servants.
With the assistance of Mister Sorrie, they burned the three bodies and scattered their remains on the sprawling estate. Seeing as Doctor White was a recluse, and his servants lived on the premises, no one in town missed them. While the doctor’s colleagues occasionally came to call, Puppet never opened the locked gate. As a result, the doctor’s associates did not know that the doctor was dead. What's more, the many letters that the doctor’s colleagues had sent to him went unanswered until, eventually, they stopped arriving.
In due course, the world of the living ignored the fact that Doctor White and his two servants had ever lived. All that remains today of the doctor and his servants’ cloistered existence are a few passages in the town’s historical ledgers and unprovable legends.
“It didn’t work!” Mister Sorrie exclaims with dismay. “Two of them didn’t seem to respond whatsoever to the illusions and the soundtrack. And that darned Woodbine girl – gosh, how she makes me mad! She wasn’t affected by what the others saw and heard toward the end. She snapped them out of their trances and is leading them off the grounds. What is even more disturbing, the others shouldn’t have recovered as quickly as they did. We blew it big time!”
“What is the big deal?” Puppet says. His tone is rude, angry. He reaches to turn off the TV monitor. He walks over to Misters Cheaply and Sorrie. They are staring through the expansive picture window as the Sextet quickly scurries through the opening in the hedges.
Puppet says, “I think having four out of six believing what they saw and heard near the end of our ploy is a perfect number. It is an excellent start. We need to work harder on the boy and the Woodbine girl, that’s all.” He glances at Robert who continues to ignore them.
Puppet says, “Perhaps we should go to a higher level to frighten them. Do any of you have a suggestion about how we can get the teenagers to see things, for lack of a better term, to our way of thinking? How about you, Robert? Do you have anything to add to our conversation?”
Robert looks up from the book resting on his lap. He glares at Puppet angrily. He slowly shakes his head, and then he resumes staring at the book.
Mister Cheaply’s expression is all daggers as he looks at Puppet and Mister Sorrie one at a time. When he finally speaks, his tone is disapproving.
“What do you say we cut to the chase! Maybe your twine and your string-puppets aren’t as good as you think. What we witnessed a few moments ago was a stupid joke. Let’s be honest here, gentlemen. The boy held a massive ball of your supposed miracle twine in his hand. It didn’t seem to affect him too much if at all. A few moments ago he seemed immune to what the four females had experienced.
“The Woodbine girl held the same huge ball of twine as the boy. She had a coil of twine in her back pocket as well. Consequently, she received a double dose of your supposed miracle twine. From what we just witnessed, she still appears to be immune to whatever you two think you are doing. You call what you are doing magic, but I know better. If it is anything even close to magic, and I seriously doubt that it is, it is the sorriest form of magic ever invented.” He glances over at Mister Sorrie. The smaller man is glaring at him because he said the word sorriest.
“Yes, Neville, I intended the pun, so get over it.”
&
nbsp; Mister Sorrie shakes his head in response to what Mister Cheaply has said. With an air of certainty, he says, “It is like that sometimes, David. After more exposure and more mind-altering interaction, everyone is consumed by the magic eventually. There have been cases throughout history when this has proven to be inaccurate, but it is rare. It will work over time. You will see. Besides, nowadays we have all these technological marvels. We didn’t have them in the past.”
“Perhaps it will work, perhaps not,” Mister Cheaply shouts. His manner continues to be agitated, disgusted. “I have my doubts that your efforts will succeed. Those two are very pigheaded and remarkably resolved. Furthermore, they are brilliant.”
“Yes, all of them are very intelligent,” Puppet snaps. “By what Neville tells me, the six of them have above average intelligence. Moreover, one of them is a frigging borderline genius. We are dealing with the cream of the crop. The others in this town will be a breeze to manipulate in comparison to those six teenagers.” He chuckles. “It already has begun. We are polluting the mind of the Brown girl’s best friend. I think her name is Anna something or other. She is the first one that contacted us with valuable information. Every time the Brown girl tells her an investigative secret, she passes it on to us.”
Mister Sorrie affirms Puppet’s comments with a slight nod of his head.
Mister Sorrie says, “My brother is correct. I have access to the school nurse’s records. Kids already are complaining to the nurse about what they think they see and hear. I know what the Anna girl said over the phone about the videotape stolen from the principal’s desk. I even recorded Anna’s voice message for posterity. Therefore, yes, my brother is truthful when he says it already has begun.”
Mister Cheaply is a competitive person. He does not want to be outdone by what Mister Sorrie and Puppet have said. He exclaims, “I am relatively sure we will have the Chloe Brown girl beginning to see anything imaginable. I wouldn’t be surprised if she sees puppets everywhere she looks – hiding in corners, lurking in shadows, even springing from her bedroom closet at night.
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