Hauntings

by Lewis Stanek

  “Let me sleep on it. There are always options, maybe one of us will come up with an idea that will suit both of our needs.”

  “Yes,” Oswald quickly replied, “a win-win solution.” Oswald grabbed at this hopefully. While he didn't want Aleister Dyer as his enemy at the university, he knew his years there were coming to a close either way. If the research was allowed to continue, he would retire as soon as it was complete. If not he would retire now.

  “That's right Oswald. We're two reasonably intelligent men; I'm certain we can come to a win-win solution. You continue your research, but keep it top-secret. Don't send any reports to the regents yet. Is that agreeable to you?”

  “Yes absolutely. I'll continue working here with Clara assisting, and I will not send any results to the regents without your prior approval.” Oswald replied, relieved to continue to have the opportunity to work on his find, yet discouraged with the delay.

  “So then we are agreed for the time being.” Aleister replied without showing any emotion. “I will be leaving you to your work then Oswald.

  Aleister left without another word spoken between them. Oswald felt a little ashamed of himself, he never considered the effect discovering the altar and standing stones would have on Aleister and his family. Of course Aleister would be reluctant for this to be public, Oswald realized as the sound of Aleister's rental car faded as he drove down the dirt road towards Bloody Gulch Road.

  At Sam & Ella's Roadside Cafe, Freida and Ed were busier than they had been in years. The restaurant was nearly packed with local patrons waiting to meet with Aleister Dyer. Clara was seated at the counter waiting impatiently, ignoring the comments of the restaurant's patrons. After what seemed like hours passed closing time, the front door opened, and there he stood.

  “We have a situation that we need to face,” Aleister began, addressing the gathered town-folk.

  Later that evening as the sun was setting, Clara arrived at the cabin. She parked her Mustang near the front porch, got out of the car and headed straight inside carrying a white paper bag from Sam & Ella's. As soon as Clara opened the cabin door and the aroma of the fresh hamburgers wafted inside making Oswald's mouth water.

  “I thought you might be hungry, so I went ahead and got us a couple of their steamed burger with French fries. I brought a couple cans of coke too,” She called into the house.

  “That's great Clara. I am famished,” Oswald replied. “I saw Aleister Dyer today. “

  “He came to the cabin?”

  “Yep, at first I thought he was excited about the find as I am. I should have know better.” Oswald grabbed one of the burgers from the bag and opened the paper wrapping to take a bite.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He wants me to let it go. To forget about it. To wait some years, and then maybe someone else will be able to come back and take a look at it. He's afraid the find will tarnish his family's name.”

  “Oh my.”

  Oswald took another bite of his sandwich, swallowed hard, then continued. “I only thought of myself. How this find would be the capstone of my career. I never thought about what it would do to him. It could be the end of his career and certainly would bring shame to his family. I'm sure no one at the University knows anything about his family's past out here.”

  Clara opened her burger and took a bite.

  “So what are you going to do? Are you going to let it lie?”

  “He and I argued, no negotiated is a better word. We negotiated. I will continue using the cabin and continue my project, but I will not submit any reports to the regents or anyone until I have Dyer's blessing.

  “You realize that blessing may never come, don't you?”

  “I do, but it is his cabin, his property and his family history we are talking about. I imagine If I published without his consent he would have every right to sue me for whatever I'm worth. Which I have to say isn't much.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “The only thing I can do, I'll complete my research as far as I can, with your kind assistance, of course. Then give it all to Aleister to do with as he pleases. Then I'll retire. Perhaps I'll write. At least I'll know what I found and that I did all that I could with it. Maybe someday, someone else will come along and take it a step further.”

  Oswald took another bite of his burger and then focused his attention on his French fries. Clara ate in silence mulling over what Oswald had said. Oswald quickly finished his meal, excused himself and went straight to work on the Druid's book. Even though he knew the book, the Druids, the altar, and the sparrows were all connected he believed he could at least complete the translation of the book from runes to English could be done without violating his agreement with Aleister.

  He could hear Clara, cleaning up in the kitchen as he worked. He appreciated her help. Her working around the cabin keeping everything running smoothly allowed him to focus all of his attention on his project. The laptop, she encouraged him to buy, increased his productivity, and helped him keep the material organized.

  It occurred to Oswald that there was no real reason for him to stay at the cabin much longer. He could work on the Druid's book anywhere. He had the photographs of the altar and the circular site complete with the standing stones. If there was not going to be a team to properly research the site, there was really no reason to stay other than he enjoyed the time away from the university and Clara's company.

  “Clara, I can't help but wonder what the rituals at the altar were really like. Of course I can imagine, but there is no guarantee that what I imagine would be correct. Just as I can translate the runes in this book into English, but do I know what the words would sound like spoken by a Druid performing the ritual? Absolutely not. That is lost to us. As far as anyone knows the language of the Druids is no longer spoken just as the rituals once performed are no more. I can only guess what it must have been like.”

  “It is a mystery, isn't it,” She replied. I'm going to make some hot chocolate in a bit for a night cap. Would you like some? It's my specialty.”

  “I would love a mug of cocoa. Thank you,” Oswald replied and returned to his work.

  “Do you think they sang at the sacrifice, or chanted along with the priest? Or do you think they only observed, or did some of them have to restrain the victim? I can't imagine anyone volunteering to be the sacrifice can you? Even if someone did volunteer how could he remain still knowing the priest was about to kill them? ”

  “Maybe the sacrifice is drugged so he doesn't know what is happening to him.” Clara offered.

  “Perhaps, but what drugs did they have back then strong enough to have such a sedating effect?”

  “How would I know that? You're the expert here,” Clara said handing him a steaming hot mug of cocoa topped with a dab of whipped cream on top.

  “This looks delicious. Do I smell a hint of peppermint?” Oswald asked accepting the hot chocolate.

  “This is my secret recipe. If I told you, everyone would expect me to tell them too. It's not going to happen. Clara replied then took a sip from her mug. “Hmm that's just what I need to end the day.” Oswald noticed Clara's forehead appeared to glisten just a bit with perspiration.

  Clara are you feeling all right?” he asked concerned that she may be coming down with something.

  “I never felt better,”

  Oswald took a sip of his cocoa. “Oh, that is good,” he said then took another sip. “you know what would be good with this? Some butter cookies.”

  “No such luck there Ozzie. I didn't come prepared with cookies today, only cocoa.”

  Clara walked back into the kitchen and had a seat at the table and waited. Oswald remained at the desk, going over the Druid book and typing notes to himself on his laptop. He took another sip of his hot chocolate, then another.

  “Is there a chance of getting refill on the cocoa?” he called to Clara.

  “Just let me know when you're done. I'll pour you another cup.” Oswald took his mug in hand an
d guzzled it down, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “I'm ready for seconds,” he said getting up from his seat, a bit too quickly, Oswald had to reach for the back of the chair to steady himself almost tipping the chair over. Clara heard the commotion, and hurried into the living room, with the pot of cocoa in her hand.

  “Oswald, why don't you just sit down and I'll pour you that second cup.” Oswald sat down hard on the chair.

  “Woah, I'm feeling woozy. What do you have in that cocoa?”

  “Like I said, it's a secret. Enjoy,” Clara replied refilling Oswald's mug to the brim. Then helping him bring the mug back up to his lips. He sipped from the mug as Clara helped him by holding the mug to his lips.

  The front door opened and quietly Aleister stepped inside.

  “It is time Clara. Is he ready?”

  “As ready as anyone can be I suppose. Then to Oswald, have another sip. It will keep you warm tonight.” Oswald willingly obliged and drank a little more of the hot chocolate.

  “I don't think he can walk on his own.” Clara advised Aleister.

  “Well then we will help him.” Aleister signaled to someone outside, and Fred came in wearing a black habit. His hood was down around his shoulders exposing his grim face.

  “You know what to do. “ Aleister said pointing to Oswald. Fred walked to Oswald, grabbed him under the arms, and hoisted him to a standing position.

  “Time to go, buddy,” he said helping Oswald walk into the kitchen and then out the door.

  There were others outside lighting the way with flashlights. A second man came beside Oswald, and helped Fred lead and support Oswald down the path through the woods to the altar. Oswald thought it might be the grocer, but he couldn't be sure. He saw amber lights up ahead. Every standing stone held what looked to be a tiki torch roughly six feet tall. Each torch was burning brightly providing more than enough light to view the festivities.

  Oswald was sure this must be a dream. His vision would blur and then would come back into focus. Fred and Aleister led Oswald to the altar and made him lay down. Oswald watched what was going on with intense interest. He was surrounded by people dressed in black habits. Everyone wore their hood up, except Fred, who after leaving Oswald at the altar lifted his own hood over his head. Oswald could not make out anyones face in the flickering light. Aleister left Oswald's side at the altar for a moment, but quickly returned wearing a burgundy habit, his hood lay about his shoulders like a cowl.

  Oswald lay motionless on the altar top, he could barely move his eyes, lifting a finger was out of the question. Sleep paralysis, that must be what it is, I'm asleep,dreaming of the Druid's ritual, its sleep paralysis, thats all, Oswald thought as he watched the proceedings.

  Aleister lifted his hands to the sky and began reciting words without any meaning Oswald could understand. It was a foreign tongue, an ancient tongue, the words rolled off of Aleister's lips as if this was his native language.

  The others stood surrounding the altar, watching intently keeping their eyes on their high priest, their Druid.

  Aleister raised his voice louder and the other's joined in chanting words, words Oswald thought he should know from the book, but knew he could never pronounce. These were words not meant for human lips.

  Oswald looked to the sky. There was a white light shining from behind the clouds. It must be the moon, he thought.

  The first flakes of snow falling from the sky were beautiful, glistening in the flickering torchlight. Oswald watched the sky and listened to the people chant. The clouds slowly gave way and let the moon appear in the nights sky. Oswald felt at peace.

  Small birds flew overhead, swooping first one way and then the next, and then back again. Aleister brought his arms down and took a blade from the altar and raised it in both hands above his head. It was a nasty looking piece of work. Black with age, too large to be a dagger, too small to be a sword, it looked to be sharp though.

  That's a good thing, good to be sharp, Oswald thought. The sky swirled then appeared to open into a vortex of many indescribable colors. Colors swirling dancing wildly in the night's sky. Sparrows circled overhead, they appeared to fade in the dark, reappear, then fade away again. The chanting came to a crescendo and suddenly intense pain, beyond description gripped Oswald in the chest as Aleister's dagger split Oswald's sternum in two like just so much butter. It felt as if hot hot coals were burning through his center when Aleister reached into his chest, then pulled something red, something dripping blood high in the air above the altar. Oswald gasped his last breath, releasing his spirit, following the sparrows into the nights sky silently closing the swirling window above.

  Table of Contents

  The Haunting of Reuversweerd A Novella

  Beginnings

  Theadora's Hostel

  To The Castle

  Dinner Conversation

  Séance Privee

  That Night

  A Gathering of Sparrows A Novella

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten