“The bad spirits can obviously control my visions and even my dreams. I swear, it looked as real as that salt shaker on the table,” I said. I let out a long breath. “Worse, I’m afraid it’s never gonna stop!”
“What did you see?” Eric asked.
“Well, for one thing, your spaghetti was really just tapeworms and eyeballs.”
“Ew. I saw that on Fear Factor once,” Pam said.
“Well, no one here is winning $50,000,” I said. “Worse, then the principal ripped Hunter’s heart out of his chest and offered me a bite.”
“Gross! That’s awful!” Shantal said. “You’re right. Whatever or whoever is messing with us, it’s definitely…malevolent.”
“They can make us see whatever they want,” Hunter said.
“But why? What’s the point in tormenting us?” Shantal asked. “We didn’t create this school. We have nothing to do with this place. Why can’t they just let us stay here until June? Then we’ll be gone forever.”
“They want us to leave now,” Eric said.
Pam shook her head. “Why though? They’re in another dimension, the spirit realm. Why do they care about us being here?”
William suddenly materialized next to me. “Tell Pam your energy carries to the other side, and that doesn’t bode well for them. They prefer the castle to remain empty and deserted.”
“Then why don’t you do something to keep them from making me hallucinate?” I shouted.
“I did,” William said. “Who do you think cut it off?”
The rest of my friends looked a bit baffled at me screaming at an invisible ghost, but Pam knew exactly what was going on. “What did Prince William say?”
I explained, and they all nodded.
“Okay,” Shantal said. “Now try not to look at him…and stop talking to him.”
“But I’m pissed,” I said. “I thought the principal really ripped Hunter’s heart out.”
Eric set his drink down. “I know you’re ticked off, Zoey, but talking into thin air makes you look…well, you know.”
“Crazy?”
“Yeah.”
“William,” I said, more quietly this time, “we’ll talk later. It isn’t safe here. Thank you for helping me though.” When the specter disappeared, I looked back at my friends. “He’s gone.”
“I don’t like that he just shows up anytime he wants,” Hunter said. “The guy needs boundaries.”
I chuckled. “I agree, but at least he tried to help this time. I need to talk to him alone. He knows more than what he’s telling us.”
“He isn’t gonna tell you anything he doesn’t want you to know,” Shantal said.
“She’s right, Zoey. He’s playing games, only out for himself,” Pam said. “He might be helping us now, but that could change in a heartbeat.”
“Please, no talk of hearts,” I said, grimacing.
“Sorry.”
Blair walked over. “Hey, guys.”
“What’s up?” I asked.
“They say there’s a leak in the grand ballroom.”
Shantal nodded. “That’s understandable, with all this rain we’ve been getting.”
She leaned over the table and whispered, “I think you oughtta take a closer look,” she said. “I know we’re not supposed to go in there, that it’s off limits, but it might be worth the risk.”
Pam looked at me. “Well? You ready to break a few more rules?”
“Do you even have to ask?” I answered.
We emptied our trays, then followed Blair down the corridor.
She glanced over her shoulder. “This is really freaky. You’re not gonna believe it.”
Pam gripped Eric’s hand, and Hunter wrapped an arm around my shoulders. When we reached the main doors, Blair flung them open, and we were greeted by a sight like none we’d ever seen before.
“Freaky is right,” Eric said with a gasp.
It was raining, but it was not the kind of rain we were used to. Instead, the drops seemed paranormal, defying gravity and falling upward, and sheets of water flew around in every crazy, nonsensical direction.
“Whoa!” Pam said. “It’s like Mother Nature is RWI.”
“Huh?” Eric asked.
“Raining under the influence.”
“Let’s just get out of here,” Shantal said, not at all appreciating Pam’s untimely wit.
Hunter looked at me. “Get one of the teachers. They need to see this for themselves.”
I nodded and hurried off to follow Pam and Shantal.
When we neared the kitchen, Pam cupped her mouth. “What the heck is that?” she asked above a strange, metallic-sounding chorus of noise.
“It’s the blender,” Shantal said.
“Yeah, and the freaking coffeemaker and mixer and microwave,” Pam said. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m in no mood to find out what a possessed toaster can do.”
Suddenly, we were startled by a loud, insistent banging. “I think someone’s at the door,” I whispered, my voice wavering.
Rita, the cook, walked up behind me and wrapped an arm around us. “Don’t answer it,” she said.
I swallowed hard. “Didn’t plan to,” I said.
When the windows started shaking, I clutched my chest. We were undeniably being taunted by some strange phenomenon, possibly harassed by unseen spirits. Within a matter of seconds, every window and door in the entire castle began to shake like the castle was caught in a tornado or hurricane. The doors started to slam rhythmically all throughout the place. All the noise gave me goosebumps and shot shivers up my spine.
Then, just like that, all the chaos silenced.
Rita gripped our hands and led us upstairs. “Come on, girls,” she said. “We need to tell someone about this.
Miss Duball was the first person we ran into, but she looked at us as if we were crazy. “Are you sure?” she asked. “I have been here all day, and I didn’t hear any strange noises.” She glared at Rita. “With all due respect, you and I both know that blenders do not operate by themselves. Perhaps you accidentally left it on.”
“Please just come with us,” Pam pleaded. “We can show you, and it will only take a minute.”
When she finally agreed, we hurried back to the room where we had seen the rain.
Miss Duball looked around, then stared back at us, clearly angry that we were wasting her precious time. “Rain, you say? There’s not even a leak in here.”
My jaw dropped as I realized she was right; the room was completely dry, without a trace of the torrential downpour we’d seen earlier.
“I haven’t time for jokes and pranks,” she scolded.
“I-I’m so sorry,” I said, then just grabbed my coat and ran outside in confusion and utter embarrassment.
“What’s going on, Zoey?” Pam asked, tagging along behind me. “It’s like something is triggering it, setting the spirits off.”
“But what?”
“I don’t know, but it’s getting worse. The bad spirits are getting bolder. They don’t hurt us, but they’ve got no problem scaring the crap out of us and making us look like we’re insane.”
I sighed. “That dream I had, the one about the deformed wolf that attacked me at 2:08… It really took the cake. It was so weird. I woke up at 2:06, and exactly two minutes later, just like in the dream, the door creaked open. The thing jumped on my bed and growled, just like I dreamt only moments before. That’s not just some joke, Pam. They’re purposely tormenting me,” I said, shaking my head. “What if it’s…something worse?”
“What do you mean, worse?”
“What if they’re demons and not just disembodied spirits?”
“Demons?” she whispered, shocked at the thought.
“Yeah. What if we somehow opened the gates of Hell?” I asked.
“If we did, wouldn’t they have just killed us by now? I’m no theologian or anything, but I’m pretty sure the devil doesn’t like just playing around.”
I bit my lip hard. “You
don’t think we triggered it, do you?”
“How would we have done that?”
“I don’t know for sure, but we’ve been toying around with ancient power we know nothing about. We took this ancient stone and an ancient necklace, and we even froze time. What if we threw the energies off balance or something extreme like that?”
“Listen, Zoey, just leave the crazy talk to me.”
“It’s not crazy talk. Something is causing the hauntings.”
“But Google said the place has always been haunted, even before we got here,” she said, “and you know as well as I do that Google is gospel.”
She smirked and I laughed.
“Right, but these are different, more tormenting. If you knew the terror I felt when I was all alone in my room after that dream, you’d understand. When that door creaked open at precisely 2:08 a.m., I thought I might have a heart attack then and there. I couldn’t breathe. I was paralyzed with fear.”
“Maybe we have nothing to do with it. Maybe the staff or faculty opened the portal. Maybe they’re all witches and warlocks or something.” She gripped my arm. “Oh my gosh! What if it’s like all those crazy movies, where the teachers want the demons to possess us?”
“That’s crazy!”
“It’s no crazier than your gates of Hell theory.”
I slapped my forehead. “I don’t know,” I said in frustration, “but the answers have to be here somewhere.”
“Yeah, but the one who has them is a ghost who insists on talking only to you when he dang well feels like it and then censors the crap out of what he says.”
“I know, Pam,” I said, feeling defeated. “I know.”
Chapter 20
I found myself sleepwalking through a dream. It wasn’t visibly foggy, but I sensed a haze hanging over me. It was the same dream I’d had many times. Pam had surmised that it meant I was unclear about what steps to take next in my life, and while I agreed that she could be right, that did not explain why I always ended up sitting at a piano, bathed in candlelight.
My fingers moved effortlessly over the keys, as if I was entertaining a huge crowd. It seemed as if my tickling of the ivories was more meaningful than a mere hobby. Passion flowed through me, and I felt a drive to produce and compose the most beautiful harmonies. I played from the heart, every note saturated with emotion. What is music without passion anyway? I thought as I began a skillful rendition of Beethoven’s “Appassionata”; I played it nearly perfectly, even though I had no idea how I even knew the name of the song. My performance was powerful and spellbinding, and thunderous music filled the room, pouring straight from my soul. If there had been an audience there for the moonlit recital, surely they would have given me a standing ovation.
My eyes fluttered slowly open at the sound of knocking, and I was jolted back to reality. I swung my legs over the bed, threw on a robe, and walked to the door, half-asleep. I opened it, yawning.
“You were supposed to meet me for breakfast,” Hunter said. “Rise and shine! It’s Saturday, and one thing you don’t need is beauty sleep.”
I shielded my eyes from the brightness of the morning sun and asked groggily, “What time is it?”
He pulled me toward him and kissed my cheek. “It’s ten a.m., sleepyhead.”
“Crap! I’m so sorry I overslept. Come on in.” I ran a hand through my messy hair and hated myself for letting him in before I had a chance to freshen up. “Sorry. I must look like road kill.”
“Sleeping Beauty, if you ask me. What time did you go to bed?” he asked.
“About ten,” I said, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Gosh, I must look a mess.”
“Nope. You’re absolutely radiant.” His smile blossomed into a full grin. “You’re a natural beauty.”
“Even with bloodshot eyes?” Without giving him a chance to answer, I continued, “I haven’t been sleeping well at all. I keep having that same dream.”
He cocked a brow. “The Liberace one?”
“Actually, it was Beethoven, but yeah. I guess it’s better than a nightmare, right?”
“Hmm. You said that William guy called you ‘Victoria.’ Maybe it has something to do with her.”
I pondered. “Maybe. Perhaps she liked to play the piano.”
“I’ll do some digging.” He hugged me tight. “Meanwhile, why don’t you get dressed and meet me downstairs in the library in about thirty minutes?” he asked in a whisper, his hot breath tickling my ear.
I stepped up on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “See ya then.”
He smiled and turned to leave. As he walked down the hall, I couldn’t help but notice how tight his jeans were. Wow, I thought. With a butt like that, Marky Mark’s lucky my guy didn’t try out for that Calvin Klein shoot first.
I brushed my hair and pulled it back into a long ponytail, gave myself one last bloodshot glance in the mirror, then rushed out of the room. I’d missed a hot breakfast, but I was happy to spend my morning with my even hotter guy.
Chapter 21
I stepped into the library and met Hunter’s gaze.
“Hey, babe,” he said from behind a pile of books about as tall as the Leaning Tower of Pisa. “You’ll never guess what I found.”
“Info on Victoria?” I said, arching my eyebrow.
He nodded and excitedly pointed at a page. “Yep. There’s even a picture of her playing the piano.”
I stared at the black and white sketch of a woman running her delicate hand across the keys. “Awesome! This is just the proof we need.”
“Proof of what?”
“That I’m not a complete lunatic.”
He laughed. “I already knew that, but this is evidence that there really was a Victoria…and that she could play piano.”
I let out a breath. “But why did she possess me, if that’s what she did? And why is she still inhabiting me or whatever? I’m beginning to feel like I’m not crazy.”
“So the big question is, why did she possess you that first time and is she still doing it?”
“Who knows? None of it makes any sense,” I said, plopping down in the chair next to him with a frustrated huff. “Maybe Victoria doesn’t need sleep, but I do. I wish they’d all leave me alone, but they want our help breaking free from the castle.”
“We just have to figure out what we’re supposed to do with that medallion and sapphire.”
“Yeah, and we only have until the end of the school year,” I said. “The ghosts seem to be bothering us more frequently. Maybe they’re getting impatient.”
“Either that, or it’s like Pam said.”
“What?”
“Maybe we accidentally opened the gates of Hell or something. Maybe they just don’t like us or other spirits trespassing.”
I sighed. “If that’s true and we could shut those gates, it’d probably keep the castle spirits more comfortable till we figure out how to release them.”
“Not only that,” Hunter said, “but it’d cut down on the extra paranormal activity. The bad are coming through with the good. Some of the stuff they’re doing is just plain terrifying, especially for you. I can’t imagine how scared you were with that reaper-looking thing or even getting locked in the bathroom.”
“You heard about that? My little ladies’ room rendezvous with Death?”
“Are you kidding? A story like that took off like wildfire around here.” He chuckled. “Everyone was scared to use the bathroom for weeks? Didn’t you notice all those guys sneaking off behind trees?”
I offered him a half-smile at the thought. “Gross…but something did lock me in the bathroom. It wasn’t just a story.”
“I know, Zoey. I always believe you, one hundred percent. Still, I don’t think it’s the spirits who are stuck in the castle. They want our help, so they wouldn’t be trying to scare us off.”
I thought back to the message scribbled into the mirror, “LEAVE!” and it sent chills up my spine all over again. “You’re right. There are bad ones, those who want
to kick us out and take over. I bet they’re giving the others quite a fight in the spirit world. We need to investigate and figure out how to stop them,” I said.
Hunter shut the book in front of him. “I’d just love to know why the spirit population suddenly increased.”
“Maybe they’re trying to sabotage the school because they want the castle to be empty.”
Hunter tapped his chin. “Well, all this ghost stuff would be a great way to get the school closed down. Plus, that one article was talking about all those people being opposed to the school being opened in such a sacred, historical place.”
“Do you think anyone has a personal grudge with the owner of the school?” I asked.
Hunter stood. “I’m not sure. There are a million possible reasons for all these hauntings.”
Suddenly, the library door creaked open, and Shantal walked in. “Hey, guys,” she said.
I stood to greet her. “Hey,” I said.
She yawned. “What’s up?”
“I take it you didn’t sleep well either,” Hunter said.
“Nope. I keep dreaming that I’m in one of the rooms in the castle, just writing. I don’t even know what I’m writing, but I never put the pen down. Weird, huh?”
“I don’t get this,” Hunter said, gazing at me, dumbfounded.
“Are the dreams getting worse?” Shantal asked him. “You don’t talk about it.”
“Actually…” He looked at me, then at her. “Yeah, I’ve been having a few weird trips around Dreamland myself. And they’ve been getting more intense.”
I bit my lip. “Hunter, why didn’t you tell me they were getting worse?”
“I dunno,” he said, shrugging.
“What are your dreams about?” Shantal said.
He cleared his throat, then gazed at me. “It’s all a blur really. I’m some kind of painter when I’m dreaming, like I’m a famous oil painter from long ago. Weird thing is, I can’t even draw proper stick people in real life, let alone paint a happy little tree.”
“What’s going on?” Shantal asked, confused. “Are we really dreaming, or is it all real somehow?”
We shrugged.
“If they are dreams, what do they even mean? How do we interpret them?”
Enchanted Dreams - Book 3 (The Enchanted Castle Series) Page 11