Now it was up to Emma to do so. If she could.
"I want to stay, I have to do this, will you help me?" Emma asked.
Brent stood up and turned away from her. For a moment, she thought he would walk out and just leave her there. Instead, he turned back, nodded and offered her his hand. As he did the scent of burning filled the air and the temperature dropped in the house. The lights flickered and died, and they were plunged into darkness. Emma reached for her phone but she had left it in the cellar. Brent pulled a torch from his pocket, and a thin beam of light illuminated the darkness. The scent of burning got worse and the feeling of a presence, a pressure, was undeniable. It seemed to squeeze them until their lungs ached and their chests hurt.
"We have to go, now," Emma said.
Brent took her hand and led her into the hallway. The moonlight was shining through the top window illuminating the hallway. Hanging from a banister were two nooses.
Emma felt her knees go weak, but Brent pulled her forward.
"Wait. I need something from the kitchen."
Quickly, she grabbed the salt and handed it to Brent. "If you see anything dark, throw this at it. It won't stop it, but it may slow it down. It may give me the time I need."
Brent took the salt while Emma grabbed hands full of the sage, tearing and ripping at it this time and not bothering to use the scissors. She filled her pockets with sage and then grabbed the bell from the window sill. It tinkled in a way that was cold and empty and set her teeth on edge.
It was time.
Emma knew that speed was of the essence and she followed Brent down the stairs with hardly a pause. Waiting at the bottom was Gaia. The cat meowed in an almost friendly way. It was as if he was glad to see them. Then he led them back to the corner.
"Protect me," Emma said to Brent. Then she dropped to her knees and started digging.
One by one she found the bones and piled them at the side. Ursula had told her that she needed both skulls and most of the bones. But it did not matter if she got all as long as she got most of them. So far, she had found many bones, but she could not find the other skull.
Suddenly, the temperature dropped in the cellar, and the smell of burning was overwhelming. Both of them started to cough as smoke clogged their lungs and seared the back of their throats.
"He's here," she said. "You have to stop him while I find the other skull."
As her breath misted before her and the smoke clogged her throat, she could feel the pressure of his presence. Part of her wanted to scream at him to let this go, to let them move on and rest and yet she knew it would do no good. So, she tore at the ground, pulling off a nail as she continued to dig and rake in the dusty soil. From behind her, she heard Brent grunt and the sound of him hitting the ground. The light flickered, and she was digging in the darkness. Yet she could not stop. Their only hope was that she found the skull.
The sounds of the fight were going on behind her, but she did not have time to look. Suddenly, she felt a cold hand on her shoulder, and she thought it was all over. Yet, when she glanced up, it was Ursula, and she was trying to tell her something. Emma could not make out the words, could not quite hear her. Then Gaia was back. The cat looked at her, its eyes old and wise, it begged her to follow.
Gaia led her a little way to the right and started clawing at the ground. Emma dug where he had been digging. Then he melted into the air and was gone. Emma gasped but kept digging. Her fingers hurt, they were bruised and bloody and yet she dug faster and harder until she found something solid.
She had found it, she had found Alden's skull.
Chapter 18
Emma grabbed the skull from the ground, feeling strangely jubilant that she had found it. Everything was coming together, and soon this would all be over. Behind her, she heard a yelp, a dull thud, and then silence.
Spinning around she looked for Brent. He was lying on the dust floor, near to the pile of bones. It felt as if a hand clenched onto her heart.
Was he dead?
Emma did not know, but she heard a whisper in her ear.
“You must hurry.”
For a moment she was undecided. Attempt to help Brent or finish this? Next to his still body, the torch pointed at the bones. It left much of the cellar in darkness and lit up the pile like some macabre Halloween decoration. There was still a faint glow from the oil lamp, but it did little to chase away the shadows this far into the cellar. Emma knew she had to move. That the only way to save Brent was to see this through and so she started to run for the bones.
Behind her, the chains rattled on the wall, and a wail of rage seemed to hit her like a physical force. Not only did she hear the sound but she felt the anger behind it as she was lifted off her feet and sent sprawling across the floor to land near Brent.
She had to hurry, if he was hurt he would need her help.
Emma gripped on tightly to the skull. It had started to feel slimy and to slide beneath her fingers, as if rotted flesh slithered beneath her touch. She wanted to throw it, to get it out of her hands and to end this quickly. Only that did not seem right.
Gently, she placed the skull on top of the pile of bones.
Stepping over the bones, she touched Brent’s shoulder. He was alive, she could feel his body moving as he drew in each breath. A sense of joy passed through her.
“Hurry,” the voice was just a hiss, just a whisper, but she understood.
Pulling hands full of sage from her pockets, she spread them all over the bones. Sprinkling them as wide as she could to make sure that all the remains were covered.
A snarl echoed around the cellar and then she felt something hit her. The skin on her arm split beneath her shirt and hot blood soaked into the material. At first, she just felt cold. As if she had been scratched with a lump of ice, but then the pain hit. A scream left her lips, and she felt as if she would faint.
How could she fight this?
The pain spread up her arm and into her shoulder and she could see the darkness forming before her. It was like a bully. One who had to regroup, intimidate, and build up the courage before he could attack. Right now, he was giving her a choice... she could leave, yet she knew it would not last long. Quickly, she looked around, searching for the salt in the shadows. What she saw almost stopped her heart.
There were other shapes, other shadows moving towards her. Emma grabbed the salt and the torch from near Brent. Shoving the torch into the ground so that it splayed out weak light at the specters that surrounded her she backed behind its comforting glow.
Now, what should she do?
For a few moments, she froze. It was as if the whole world had tumbled on top of her and she could not cope with the weight, with the responsibility. At that moment she thought that she had lost her mind and she shut down for a fraction of a second. She gave in.
Gaia was suddenly in front of her and as he brushed past she felt his body. Cold fur pulled over a sawdust-filled sack. It was unreal, and it was enough to bring her back to the cellar. If this… creature… cat… spirit could stand up to the evil before them, then so could she.
Emma tossed salt around the circle and watched as the shapes pulled back. Alden stayed the closest. A wisp of a man, a ghost with teeth bared and bones showing through the smoky filaments that gave him form.
She had to believe he could not hurt her, but the pain in her arm said otherwise.
“Do it now,” the words were whispered into her ear.”
Where once the feel of the air, the ghost lips on her flesh, would have sickened and frightened her, this time it only gave her courage.
She could do this.
Pulling the bell from her pocket, she tried to remember the words. The incantation that she must perform to banish this stained soul from their realm. All around her the smoky mist coalesced, swirled and seemed to throb with energy. Some of the forms appeared to be fighting Alden, and some appeared to be helping him.
Emma turned away from the raging smoke storm that seemed to bubb
le and boil before her and rang the bell over the bones. Up and down, right and left she rang the bell, and she shouted, “Ecce crucis signum, fugiant phantasmata cuncta."
Again she rang the bell top to bottom, left to right. “Behold the emblem of the Cross; let all specters flee,” this time she said the words in English.
The air seemed to relax, the pressure released just a little and Emma thought that it was working. That she was sending Alden Carter on to another realm. To where she did not know, and right then she did not care. If he were to boil in hell for all eternity then so be it, for he had given her relatives hell for many, many years.
Slowly, she turned to her right. Again she rang the bell, top to bottom. As she raised her hand to complete the shape of the cross, she was hit in the back with such force that it knocked the breath from her lungs. The bell went spinning out of her hands and clattered away across the dusty floor. The torch was knocked over, and the cellar was plunged into darkness.
Emma felt the chill of a body upon her back, and she was forced, face down into the dirt. She could feel the bones poking into her spine, and the hands scratched up her back and across her shoulders as they searched for her head. Once they found it, she knew she would be forced into the earth once more, and this time she would suffocate. Then this whole cycle would continue. The hatred would endure on and on down the generations until the house collapsed beneath the burden of evil.
Alden laughed in her ear. A blast of cold, fetid air wafted across her. As she tried to breathe, to shake him free, anything to get out from beneath the horror that pinned her down, her hopes began to fade. She had lost. It was over, there was nothing more she could do.
The hand clasped into her hair and pushed her face into the dirt. Screwing her eyes tight and clamping her teeth she tried desperately not to draw a breath. The hand above pushed harder forcing her further into the gritty soil. Her nose, her teeth, her cheeks all hurt as he scraped her face against the coarse stones that she had unearthed.
Emma pushed against him, trying with all her might to lift her face from the ground. Even if just long enough to take a breath for her lungs were burning and her throat longed to draw in sweet, cool air.
Yet she could not lift him, and she could feel herself weakening. Could feel a sense of calm and drifting. The type that came before the end and yet she would not give in. Reaching out with her hands she searched for something to fight with, for anything. Tentatively her fingers touched something, inch by inch she stretched until her hands found a bone and clasped on tight. Though the angle was wrong and she did not have much force, she swung as hard as she could behind her and just for a second the pressure eased.
Emma lifted her hip and rolled the specter from her back. Climbing to her knees, she drew in great lungfuls of air as she scoured the room for the smoky disturbance that was Alden. Left and right she looked back-and-forth, where was he?
Panting, gasping, and trying to regain her breath, she searched among the shadows. Only it was so dark, and there was more she had to search for. On her hands and knees, she scraped her battered fingers across the ground. Looking for the bell, the torch, for anything that could give her an advantage in this situation.
The pressure started to build again and the air filled with smoke. Emma ignored it, it was not real, and it could not hurt her. Her hand clasped onto something cold, and she pulled it out of the ground. A weak light emanated from the torch, and just for a second, she felt relief.
The beam could not cut through the gloom, or the smoky figures that surrounded her. There was a feeling of despair, of animosity rolling off them and all Emma could do was shrink back against the wall and wait for the worst.
Without the bell, she was finished, and soon it would all be over. For a moment, she spared a thought for Gaia and Ursula, where were they? Had even they abandoned her as the hour drew near? As if just thinking about them had drawn them to her she saw Ursula among the surrounding ghosts. She was surrounded, and an argument seemed to be taking place. The smoky figures drifted and formed, coalescing and then dissipating never solid but substantial. It looked like Ursula had problems of her own, she would not be coming to her aid.
"Gaia?" Emma called. "If you can hear me, find the bell, for without it I am lost."
Laughter echoed around the cellar. The soundwaves hit Emma and pushed her backward, and she shrank against the wall. Once more, Alden separated from the smoky figures and appeared before her. There was glee on his face, triumph in his empty eye sockets, for he knew he had won.
Suddenly, Emma was angry, she was not giving in, and she was not going down without fighting. So, she grabbed hold of two of the bones and swung at him. The figure turned to mist and was gone. Emma dropped to her knees and began to search the soil, rubbing her fingers back-and-forth hoping she could find the bell.
A scream was forced from her lips as Alden stamped onto her fingers and ground down with his heel. Though she tried to pull her hand away, it was pinned, and she was held there completely at his mercy.
Alden raised his arm and, with a look of elation, was about to bring it down onto her head. Emma shuddered and tried to flinch away, but she knew it would be no use.
"Stop this, Daddy." The shape of a young girl appeared before him.
There was something sad about her and yet something strong.
Alden stumbled backward, releasing Emma's hand.
What should she do? It was so dark and yet she scoured the floor for the bell. Until she felt a hand on her shoulder. Emma jerked back and fell onto her bottom. Looking up, she could see the young girl before her. In her tiny hand, she had the bell, and she was offering it to her.
Tears were streaming down Emma's face as she took the bell. This must be Brook, Alden's daughter. This was a child that had been brutally murdered, she had every reason to be angry and to want this violence to perpetuate and yet she was the one who was helping to stop it. "Thank you," Emma whispered.
Quickly she walked back to the bones and started the whole ceremony again. The spirits mumbled as if to try and drown her out. It was like leaves in a storm of the roar of a crowd just too far away for you to pick out the voices.
Ignoring the cacophony, Emma rang the bell, top to bottom, left to right in the shape of the cross while she chanted the words that would banish the spirits. "Ecce crucis signum, fugiant phantasmata cuncta... behold the emblem of the Cross; let all specters flee!" she shouted.
Ursula had told her she needed to do it five times. Once over the bones then to the South, to the West, to the East, and lastly, to the North. After she had completed the second chanting, Alden appeared again. Though his face was hardly there, she could see the fury on it. The temperature in the room dropped, it filled with smoke, and the pressure around them grew to such a point that she felt as if she were being crushed once more. Yet she knew she must not stop. So, she turned again, rang the bell up, rang the bell down, rang the bell to the left, rang the bell to the right. Static was building, she knew something was going to happen and then Alden screamed.
"Let me be," he screamed. "Let me have my revenge."
Little Brook stood in front of her father. As Emma rang the bell and chanted, she could not believe the child would stop him and yet, Brook did not flinch. Everything Alden threw at her she threw back, every time he came at her she held him back, Emma could see that she was weakening. She had two more points to do and then it was over. Part of her felt sorry for Brook, part of her didn't want to banish the child, and yet she knew she must.
The more Brook stopped him, the more furious her father became, and it was obvious that she would lose this battle. All Emma hoped was that she would hold on long enough for her to complete her task.
The air crackled, what little light there was dimmed and Emma was plunged into almost total darkness. She had one more point to do, and she knew she would not make it.
As she raised the bell for the last time the smoky spirits around her separated. Ursula moved to stand next to Broo
k and so did two more.
Relief flooded through Emma as she rang the bell for the last time and chanted the words. Suddenly, the pressure dropped, the light from the torch seemed brighter, and the constant hiss of voices mumbling that had filled her head for so long was gone.
Turning around, Emma was surprised to see that the smoky figures were no longer there. She was alone in the cellar with an unconscious Brent.
It was over, and she had won.
Epilogue
Emma dropped to her knees and started sobbing. It was over, she had won, and yet, somehow, she felt bereft. What had happened to Ursula, to Brook? Where had they gone and would they find peace? Behind her, she heard a sound in the dirt. Grabbing hold of the large bone in one hand and the torch in the other she spun around. The bone dropped from her hand. Brent was trying to sit up, so she rushed across to him.
"How are you?" she asked.
He raised a hand to his head and swayed a little bit. “I’m not sure. Are we safe?”
Emma put her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “They are gone, or at least, I think they are. Now, let’s get you out of this cellar.”
Slowly, she helped him to his feet, across the dusty floor and back up the stairs. The lights in the house seemed suddenly very bright. They were no longer yellow and sickly, and they gave the place a fresh, new feel. As she led him through the kitchen and across the hallway, Emma knew there would be no noose. It just felt different, and she knew that she could find peace here. Guiding Brent to the sofa, she moved the stuffed cat before she laid him down.
The Haunting of Brynlee House: Based on a Real Haunted House Page 9