The Haunting of Brynlee House: Based on a Real Haunted House

by Caroline Clark

  Judy looked a little shocked for a moment.

  What now? Emma thought.

  “Oh, how very strange,” Judy said. “That nice Detective Markham borrowed that very same item this morning.”

  Emma felt her blood run cold. Did Brent know something? Was he trying to hide something from her? She knew she would have to ask him, and yet somehow she dreaded doing so.

  After Janet left, Emma retired to a far corner of the library and tried to gather her thoughts. She was torn between thinking that she had lost her mind. That she had succumbed to the stress of the move or the possibility that Mark had found her, or that something strange was going on in the house. Taking out a pad and pencil she wrote down all these thoughts. Was she losing her mind? Her hand rose to her neck, and she could feel the damage there. Something had grazed the skin and left a deep welt. Could she really believe that she had done that to herself? If she hadn't done it then was it an intruder? That didn't make sense. No one was there… but surely, they had to be… and yet, after the incident, all she had found was a cobweb. There was no way that a cobweb could have torn her skin and cut off her breath! It just wasn't possible. So that left only one explanation, something was wrong in the house. Something was going on.

  Could it really be haunted?

  Emma did not believe in such things. Yes, evil existed in the world, but it was human and mean. She put down the pen and stared at the notes she had made. Here in the peaceful library, feeling safe and with the sun shining in through the window it all seemed so stupid. Yet, when the darkness fell, she knew she would be afraid.

  What should I do?

  Closing her eyes, she did what she had been taught at the center. She let go of everything and cleared her mind. Then she let her heart tell her what she must do. Should she leave and go back to London? After asking the question, she sat quietly and waited. The answer she received was not the one she wanted.

  Chapter 15

  Emma drove back to the house. She knew she should be afraid. Either she was losing her mind, or she was about to face a ghost. A relative and her daughter were murdered there. One inside and one outside the house. That sort of blood would leave a stain on anything.

  How could anyone murder a child, burn it alive just to torture the mother? Every time she thought about it, Emma just felt sick. The pain Ursula must've felt was unimaginable, and poor little Rose. No child deserved to die in such pain, to feel such fear.

  How could she ever ease the pain that tainted this house?

  While she was at the library, Emma had done some more research. At the time it seemed sensible, that she would arm herself against the spirits. Yet, as she approached the house it seemed childish, stupid, but it was all that she had.

  As she walked into the house, the cat was sat beneath the banister. Its amber eyes glared at her, and it sat in the exact place she had seen the noose, where she had felt the noose. Where she had almost been hung!

  "Gaia," Emma said feeling rather silly.

  The cat's ears pricked up and its eyes seemed to mellow. It was as if the fire inside of them began to fade.

  "So, Gaia, show me what I need to know," Emma said.

  Gaia looked at her and then turned to walk away. Skirting around the bottom of the banister she followed the cat to the kitchen. It stopped in front of a cupboard, jumped onto the surface and rubbed itself against the door. Emma opened the cupboard, and she understood. She pulled the salt out of the cupboard and placed it on the surface. Gaia walked across to the window, to the sage plant that grew there. He meowed in front of it and touched the bell. Emma grabbed some scissors, cut off some of the sage and placed it in her pocket. Then the cat walked to the wall and disappeared through it.

  Emma's breath caught in her throat, and she gasped. For a moment she could not move, but somehow she knew that time was short. That if she was to survive this, then she must act quickly. She went to the back door, opened it, and stepped out into the garden. The sun was going down, and it was already feeling gloomy. The light seemed to shine on the circle, the burnt circle. Then Emma remembered the first time she had looked into the house. The name Brynlee. It meant burnt clearing. Was this a clue? Had her relatives named the house to give her a clue? Or had they done it to simply torment themselves? The cat pawed at the ash. Emma bent down and ran her fingers through it. It was as cold as ice and yet felt silky against the skin.

  What am I supposed to do here?

  The trees began to whisper, the leaves mumbling and chattering softly at first and yet the sound grew. It rose as if the wind was blowing a gale and yet the night was still. Soon the leaves tossed and the branches rubbed together, grating, murmuring, now they sounded like an angry mob.

  "What do you want? Emma shouted. "What do you want from me?"

  The noise stopped and was replaced with a deathly silence.

  Unsure what else to do Emma took some sage from her pocket and scattered it over the ashes. As she did, the cat stood and walked back towards the house. The wind whistled behind Emma, and the shadows seemed to lengthen. It was getting colder, and a feeling of menace, of oppression, surrounded her. As she watched, the cat disappeared through the door. Emma knew she must follow and yet suddenly, the house felt dangerous.

  As she stood, she felt a hand grasp onto her wrists. It was cold, frigid and so tight it seemed to bruise her bones.

  Jerking violently she pulled her hand free and spun around, but there was no one there.

  It was time to leave. What did she think she was doing here?

  Emma almost ran back to the house. As she pushed through the door, she saw a presence before her. The air coalesced and swirled and seemed to form the shape of a translucent woman dressed in white. Her arms reached out to Emma's, beseeching her. Then the figure turned to mist, and the mist rushed towards Emma. She tried to move, but her legs would not hold her. She was engulfed in cold and felt the touch of lips against her ear.

  "End thissss," the voice said.

  Emma's hands flapped like a child’s in the eye of a nightmare. Yet, she could not feel anything, there was nothing to fight, there was nothing to stop. It seemed that she was at the spirit’s mercy.

  Every fiber of her being wanted to leave. She wanted to grab her bag and run from the house, never to return, and yet she knew she could not. Somehow, she had to help this woman. The presence had shocked her, scared her, and yet, it did not feel threatening. It did not want to hurt her. It wanted her help. Though she did not know why, that was what she felt. What she could do?

  The door slammed behind her. Emma jumped. "Shit!" she shouted and turned to face the door.

  There was something there, something dark, something insubstantial and yet it had slammed the door. A darkness cleaved out of the air to become almost a man. Then the figure turned into mist. Swarming like angry bees, it seemed to buzz around her, and she felt the hair on her arms raise. Heart pounding, her breath caught in her throat, and she was weighed down with a deep sense of dread and danger. Was this what grabbed her?

  Slowly, she backed away from the presence. As she did, Gaia rushed past her and dived at the shadow. As he hit it, it dissipated and was gone.

  Emma let out a sob and collapsed to her knees. How much more could she cope with?

  Emma got to her feet, there was nothing there. The cat had also disappeared, and yet, Emma heard a meow behind her. Turning, she saw the cat sat before her at the door to the dungeon. To the cage. The door was open. All the boards that Brent had put over it were gone. There was just a dark, gaping hole, and it was waiting for her.

  Emma knew she had to go down there, though she did not know why.

  Taking a deep breath, she stepped towards the opening. There was light at the bottom. It was faint, enough for her to see the lower steps but nothing more. Gaia turned, meowed, and then trotted onto the stairs. As she watched, the cat faded into the darkness. Emma knew she had to follow.

  Emma pulled her phone out of her pocket and activated the torch app. The
last thing she wanted to do was go down into the dark and yet she knew she must. Taking a deep breath, she put one foot on the stairs. They creaked beneath her as if they would not support her weight. Still, she had to go down, and so she took another step. Cobwebs tickled her hands, and one thin filament drifted across her face. This time it did not faze her, there was worse to come, of that she was sure. So, she took another step and then another until she had walked down the steps one by one. With each step, her heart beat faster and the breath caught in her throat. Strange shadows flicked across the walls as she approached the flickering light at the bottom. Every one of them filled her with dread, and yet she was pulled down, almost against her will.

  Gaia waited for her just off the stairs, and his presence gave her strength.

  "Lead the way," she said. The cat looked over its shoulder and then turned and walked across the cellar.

  Emma could see the light to her right. It looked like an old oil lamp and flickered, casting shadows and barely chasing away the darkness. The pounding of her heart and the rushing of blood in her ears was almost overwhelming.

  Why was she doing this?

  A meow in front of her was her only answer.

  Gaia walked towards one corner, passing out of the meager light and into the shadows beyond. Emma followed, she could feel a breeze at her back and scooted around, pointing the phone. It cut through some of the gloom but not much, and yet it showed nothing was there. Just the old oil lamp burning in the opposite corner.

  Where had it come from? Who had lit it?

  Should she go towards it, towards the light or follow the ghost cat into the darkness? Even though logic told her to go to the light, it felt wrong. So, despite her terror, she turned her back and headed after her guide.

  Goosebumps rose on her arms. The feeling of dread, the feeling of impending doom was like a weight on her back. It pressed on her chest making each breath tortured. It made her legs heavy and each step difficult. She wanted to run, back to the stairs, out of this house, and to never come back.

  A whisper behind her caused her to spin back around. Then it was behind her again, and she spun back. The words were unclear, she could not even discern the intent of the speaker. Was this the one she felt would not hurt her, or the black spirit that wanted her dead?

  Gaia came into view of the phone’s torch. He was sat next to something, or was he? A blur formed before her and she rubbed her eyes. As she watched, the mist formed into a translucent person. Emma felt the breath catch in her throat, she tried to swallow, tried to speak, but she could not.

  The figure was a woman, it was impossible to tell her age, but she didn't think she was old. She wore a white dress and held her arms out to Emma. Though she should have been terrified, Emma felt a sense of calm came over her, and she found herself walking towards the figure. Towards Ursula, for she knew this was her relative, knew she would not hurt her.

  Ursula pointed towards the corner. Gaia followed the direction of her arm and walked over towards the corner. There he scratched at the dust floor. Suddenly, Emma understood. They wanted her to find something and maybe when she did, then this would be over.

  Emma approached the corner warily. She understood why they had been haunting this place. The atrocities against them were appalling, and she could not understand how anyone could do something so inhuman. Yet, if it was as simple as finding… finding whatever it was, then why had this not ended generations ago?

  Did they bring her here to kill her?

  She felt something cold touch her hand and looked down. Ursula’s insubstantial hand had taken hers and was gently leading her to the corner. The whispering started again, and she could see the figure's lips move, even as she could see the darkness behind it. Yet she could not hear the words. It was just mumbling, and it did not make sense.

  Emma slowed down, was she being led to her death?

  Chapter 16

  The pull of the hand became more insistent as Emma started to slow. She could see that Ursula was becoming anxious. That she wanted her to hurry, but Emma needed to think. What was going on? What should she do?

  For a second she froze. Her breath was coming in desperate gasps, and she dropped her head afraid that she would hyperventilate.

  “Hurry,” Ursula whispered against her ear. “I can’t hold them for long.”

  Emma made a decision. She was here, and somehow she did not think she would get out of this place alive if she argued with this... woman... spirit... ghost. So, she raised her torch and shone it into the corner. There was nothing there. Just Gaia sat pawing at the soil.

  Emma rushed the last few feet before her nerve broke and dropped to her knees. There she began to scrape at the ground. If they wanted to hurt her, they would, but she felt compelled to see what was here. Maybe once she did, this really would be over. Maybe she would survive.

  The floor of the cellar was simply dirt, and in this corner, it seemed to be loose, dry, and dusty. She started to dig and almost as soon as she did she found a small bone. It looked like an ulna, the thick forearm bone. It was small... from a child. The feel of it in her hands turned her stomach and yet it made her want to dig more.

  She scratched into the ground, desperate now, she scraped, dug, and clawed until she found something else… something…

  Letting out a breath she moved the phone to illuminate the object and carefully dig around it. It was a skull, of that she was certain. Tears ran down her face as she tried to free the skull from the ground. It was almost clear when the room dropped 20° in temperature. Mist filled the air as she breathed and she could feel an oppressive presence behind her. It was as if the pressure in the cellar had increased. As if something was crushing her. Before she had the chance to stand, to turn, something hit her hard in the back, and her face was forced into the soil. It felt like knees on her back. As if someone was kneeling on top of her and a hand on her head forced her mouth and nose deep into the loose and dusty earth.

  Emma could not breathe, her lungs screamed for air as she tossed, bucked and heaved to try and shake the attacker from her. It was no use, whoever was here was stronger, heavier, and so cold. Where they touched her, even through her clothes, it felt like ice. Involuntarily she took in a breath, and her throat was filled with dust and dirt. Suddenly, she was mortally afraid. This was it, this was the end, and she had failed.

  Chapter 17

  Emma saw a light before her. It was down a long tunnel, and she reached out to touch it. The aching from her lungs had eased, and she felt as if she was floating. The cold melted away as did the cellar and she felt serene and at peace. Suddenly, she was not alone, but she was not frightened. Turning, she saw Ursula walking towards her. It was immediately obvious that they were related. The same soft brown hair, the same cheekbones, the same full lips. Both had kind eyes though Emma's were brown and Ursula's were a piercing blue.

  "I need to talk to you," Ursula said, and she gently took her hand.

  Emma felt like she was home, like nothing could hurt her and she nodded.

  "We don't have much time," Ursula said. "If you stay too long you will not be able to return."

  Emma listened and learned of all the heartache and pain that had stained the house throughout the generations.

  Can I be the one to stop it?

  "You have to go now," Ursula said. "Thank you for being so brave, and I will help you as much as I can."

  The light was gone and replaced with darkness and pain. Emma gasped for breath and then coughed. Her lungs were full of dirt and dust. They burned and ached and yet she was alive. She still felt as if she was floating and she remembered Ursula's words. She started to fight. Flapping her arms and scratching and clawing she grabbed onto short hair and pulled with all her might.

  "It's me, Emma, it's me, Brent. You're safe."

  Then they were back in the kitchen and the glorious light. Brent rushed straight through to the living room and put her on the sofa. He dropped to his knees next to her and wiped dirt fro
m her face.

  "What happened?" he asked.

  Emma wanted to explain, but something that Ursula had said to her was nagging at the back of the mind. That there was a presence here that wanted to stop her. She knew about the dark force, the dark spirit that had grabbed her. The one that had pushed her into the ground and tried to smother her in the soil. But what if Brent was helping him? After all, he had taken the other book.

  "Emma, why are you looking at me like that?" Brent asked.

  Emma started to sob. She had to trust this man for she had no one else and she could not do this alone. "I was researching the house at the library. I was told about a book and that you had taken it. Why?"

  Brent rubbed a hand through his short dark hair and sat back on his heels. "It's hard to explain.”

  He waited, but Emma would not budge, she would have an explanation, or she would make him leave.

  “I'm supposed to be a man of logic, right? The detective who finds out the real reason for things. However, I have seen things before that do not make sense. That cannot make sense. I know you have been under stress, but I believed you and decided to check into this house because something did not feel right. The book tells a tale that is so horrible that I want us to leave this house now and never come back."

  "I can't do it," Emma said. "I made a promise… The promise that I would end this."

  Brent spent the next half hour trying to persuade her to change her mind. In the end, he realized it would not work, and so, together they read the book and Emma told him what Ursula had said. They told the tale of how Alden Carter had been tricked. How he was afraid of the Bishop and because of that, he tortured Ursula and then pretended that she had confessed. Ursula had been led to believe that her daughter was burned alive and yet, it still did not break her, maybe she knew the truth. For it had not been Ursula's daughter that the Bishop had burned. He could not find her. So, instead, he took a girl about her age, about her size. It was not Ursula's daughter that he had burned alive, it was Alden's. When Alden found out he hung himself in the exact same spot that he had hung Ursula and he saw to it that his bones and his daughters were left in the house. It became his mission to make sure that none of Ursula's relatives would ever find peace. Over the generations, he drove many of them insane, and at least three had killed themselves in the same spot. Those that hadn't were so bitter that they would not end the constant cycle of pain.