by Ron Ripley
“I know who you are!” the dead man crooned.
“You do?” Shane asked, managing to keep the surprise out of his voice.
Emmanuel nodded. "You're trouble. My mother always told me to watch out for trouble, but you are entirely too appealing to ignore. And my goodness, your scars! You look, if you will forgive me, as if someone has staked you down in the road and ridden over you a few times."
“Feels that way,” Shane admitted.
“Now,” Emmanuel said, “what was your question again?”
“Your bones,” Shane said. “I want to know where they are.”
“And what would you do with my bones?” Emmanuel asked, and then he pouted. “Nothing pleasant, I suppose.”
“You’d be right,” Shane agreed. “I’m going to salt them down and burn them.”
“Ah,” Emmanuel said. “That would explain why the Shaws let you out of the wine cellar. They wouldn't have, you know if they thought you didn't mean it."
“It’s good that I do mean it then,” Shane said.
Emmanuel snickered. “It is. Now, how about a riddle?”
“Sure,” Shane said. “Why not.”
Again Emmanuel looked surprised, and again the dead man laughed. “You know, I don’t really have a riddle? So often when I’ve offered a guest that they’ve hemmed and hawed and chosen the alternative.”
Shane didn’t ask what the alternative was, so Emmanuel sighed and offered it.
“Well, the alternative,” the dead man said, “is to go and speak with the cook.”
Shane looked at Emmanuel’s sharpened teeth, remembered the casual reference to cannibalism, and smiled. “And they ended up as your meal.”
“Oh,” the dead man whispered. “You’re so very pleasant to speak with. I’m almost tempted to let you have my bones. But then that would rather spoil the evening.”
“It would,” Shane said. “I can guarantee that.”
“Well,” Emmanuel said. “I won’t give you the bones, but I will tell you this. You can find them where an old friend hid them, although he didn’t know they would be there when he made the wall.”
“That,” Shane said, “was exactly less than helpful.”
“Then I’m afraid you won’t appreciate this either,” Emmanuel said.
The doors to the china cabinets exploded open, and hundreds of dishes sped towards Shane.
He snatched his pack off the table and raced for the door as cups and saucers, bowls and plates smashed into him. Some broke against him, and others shattered against his knuckle-dusters. More still bounced off him to spin away and roll on the floor.
Out of the corner of his eye, Shane saw Emmanuel, and the dead man grinned his sharpened grin as Shane tried to flee the room.
A few steps away from the white door a large shape caught Shane's attention, and he turned in time to see a soup tureen race towards him. He turned his head away at the last moment, the china cracking against his skull and sending him crashing into the mirror on the floor.
Chapter 53: In the Dressing Room
Marie came to and gasped for breath. She was bouncing on the shoulder of David, and when she struggled, he stopped to put her down.
“Can you walk?” he asked.
“I can run if I have to,” she answered. She struggled to remember what had happened, but she couldn’t. Part of her thought that was probably for the best, especially considering her drinks with Emmanuel.
David nodded, rewrapped the chain around his hand, and gestured towards a door a few feet away.
“Where does that lead to?” Marie asked, ignoring the pulsating pain in her head.
“Don’t know,” David answered. “Could lead to anywhere.”
“Great,” Marie muttered. “I do not want to go in there.”
"Me neither," David said. "We don't have a whole lot of choice, though. If we can meet up with your friends, then that'll give us a better chance of getting out of here."
“Can we?” Marie asked, looking hard at the man. “Has anyone?”
"More than a few," David said. "More than that have died in here, though, I won't lie about that. You may want to get your shotgun out, too."
Marie did so, flipped off the safety, and looked at David.
“You ready to go?” he asked.
Marie nodded. “I’ll take the lead.”
“No argument from me,” David said, stepping aside.
She went to the door, reached out and tested the knob.
It was unlocked.
Marie wrapped her hand around the cold metal, squeezed and turned as she pushed against it. The door opened a sliver at a time, and in a moment the room was revealed.
Light, filtered through green glass in the ceiling, filled the room. The walls were all lined with dark blue curtains and benches with cracked leather seats were set in a haphazard fashion in the room’s center.
David came in behind her, and the door clicked shut, the lock tumbling into place.
“How do we get out?” Marie asked, keeping her voice low.
“I’m hoping the exit is behind one of the curtains,” David said.
“Great,” Marie said, sighing. She watched as he walked to the nearest piece of fabric and pulled it down.
It fell and landed with a soft thump, a cloud of dust spiraling up from it.
“Oh no,” David whispered, staring at what he had uncovered.
All Marie saw was a mirror, and she said as much.
“No,” David said in the same hushed tone. “It’s worse than that. So much worse than that. Hurry, pull the rest down. We need to find the door. We need to get out of here.”
Marie didn't ask why. Instead, she went to the nearest curtain and pulled it down, revealing another mirror. By the time the fabric was on the floor, she had already moved on to the next. In a matter of moments, every curtain had been torn down, and not a single door had been revealed.
Marie’s murky reflection stared back at her, dizzying in its multiplicity as each mirror showed the other.
“Break them,” David whispered.
She looked at him, confused. “What?”
“Break them!” he screamed as he lifted his arm up, the chain rising up with it.
But it was too late.
Black shapes hurtled out of the mirrors, broken glass launching out like shrapnel. The creatures were humanoid but lacked features. Long arms reached out while thin legs launched them across the room.
Marie fired blindly, first one barrel, then the second, and she was fighting for her life with iron rings and nothing more.
Chapter 54: A Reunion of Sorts
When Shane hit the mirror, he felt the glass break, and then he continued to fall.
It was as if there was no floor.
He fell for what seemed like several minutes, and then he was thrust into light and in the middle of a brawl. Shane struck the floor with enough force to leave him breathless and dazed as he tried to make sense of what had happened.
Around him were black shapes, tall and frightening. They attacked a naked man and Marie, both of whom had a hard time keeping the creatures at bay.
Shane regained his breath, scrambled to his feet and became dimly aware that he was bleeding from multiple cuts. He had landed on broken glass and a glance at his legs and chest showed his clothes glittered with what looked like hundreds of slivers.
One of the black beasts sensed him, turned and reached for Shane.
Without thinking, Shane punched it in the head with his knuckle-dusters, and the creature vanished.
They’re ghosts, Shane thought, and he stepped into the fight. He lashed out with both hands, rings, and knuckle-dusters dispatching the dead as he moved forward. In a moment, all of them were gone, and only he, Marie, and the naked man remained.
Marie’s pupils fluctuated in size while the man looked around as though he suffered from PTSD.
“Who are you?” the man asked.
“He’s Shane,” Marie answered. Her words were slur
red. “This is David.”
It was then Shane noticed the blood on her forehead.
“I think you have a concussion, Marie,” Shane said.
“She probably does,” David interjected. “She was knocked out.”
“I’m fine,” she argued.
Shane ignored her and asked the man, “Do you know anything about this place?”
“Too much,” David answered. “We need to get out. Before Emmanuel sends anyone after us.”
“What were the black things?” Shane asked.
“They used to be part of something,” David said. “Then they weren’t. I can tell you about that later. We need to go, and we need to go now.”
Shane shook his head. "I need to find Frank, and I need to burn Emmanuel's bones."
“Nobody knows where his bones are,” David snapped. “They’re probably not even here.”
“They’re here,” Shane said.
“How do you know?” David demanded.
“He told me,” Shane replied.
David looked surprised. “Oh.”
After a moment David asked, “Did he say where?”
“This is what he told me,” Shane said, and he repeated what Emmanuel had said.
“Mr. Johnson,” David murmured.
“What?” Shane asked.
“Johnson,” David said louder. “Mr. Johnson was the only person Emmanuel ever considered a friend. As far as I know, though, Johnson never built anything here.”
“He did,” Shane said.
When he didn’t elaborate, David said, “Well, what?”
“I need to find Frank,” Shane said, twisting around. “Is there a door out of here?”
“No,” Marie answered. “Nothing we could see.”
Shane closed his eyes tried to clear his mind and felt a tug in his gut. When he cracked an eye open, he saw that he stood on a carpet, albeit one littered with broken mirrors.
“There’s a door of some sort under here,” Shane said, tapping the floor with a foot.
“Let’s pull it up then,” David said. “Before he sends anything else after us.”
“No,” Shane replied.
“No?” Marie snapped. “What the hell do you mean, Shane?”
“I mean no,” he said again. “We go up.”
And as he spoke, he turned his attention to the ceiling, in the middle of which was a small, circular trap door.
“How are we going to get up there?” Marie asked.
Shane grinned at her. “You get to go first.”
“And what if there’s someone up there?” she asked.
“Jump,” Shane said.
David nodded. “We’ll catch you.”
“Maybe you will,” she said to David. “He won’t.”
Shane’s response to her statement was to interlock his fingers as he said, “Step on in.”
Marie looked at him with an expression of mixed disgust and anger before she put her foot into the stirrup he had made. David did the same, and in a moment, she had a hand on each of their heads, balancing herself.
“Okay,” Marie said.
Together Shane and David lifted, the muscles straining in the older man's neck as they lifted her towards the ceiling. She kept her hands outstretched, and when they reached the small trap door, she pushed up. The wood creaked, resisted for a second, and then popped. She slid it aside as a cloud of dust drifted down towards them.
Shane and David both watched her, waiting until she got her hands up and into the darkness before they lifted her the rest of the way up. As her feet left their hands, the two men straightened and she climbed into the unlit room above.
A heartbeat later, her scream pierced the air and shook the house to its foundations.
Chapter 55: Mutual Terror
A terrified scream pierced the pain which smothered him and Frank jerked up. His broken forearm was still grasped by an unseen, cold hand. Frank struck out, and the iron rings on his fingers broke the hold.
It was only then that Frank realized he could see.
Enough light came up from a hole in the floor to show him Marie Lafontaine as she struggled against a dark shape. While Frank couldn’t make out the details of the creature, he saw that it held her wrists up and away with one hand. It slowly pushed its free hand into her mouth, stifling her scream and choking her at the same time.
Without looking for his shotgun, Frank scrambled to her, the creature twisting to howl at him. A blast of cold air slammed him in the face, the sensation one of excruciating pain as he inhaled. The beast let go of Marie, jerked its hand out of her mouth and launched itself at him.
Frank swung at it, and the creature ducked beneath the blow. It struck him in the chest, sending him sprawling backward and letting out a joyous cry.
Then the room was plunged into darkness as a figure plugged the hole in the floor.
A cold hand latched onto Frank’s ankle, and he twisted around and slammed his fist into it, the iron on his finger causing the creature to vanish.
“Marie,” Shane called from where the hole had been.
“I’m here too,” Frank said.
"Oh, hell," Shane said. There was a rustling sound, and then a match was lit.
“You look like hell,” Frank said, sitting up.
“Like looking in a mirror then,” Shane said. He tossed a box of matches and Frank caught them one-handed. “I’ve got to help David up. Hold on.”
“Who’s David?” Frank asked.
“My naked friend,” Shane replied.
Frank lit another match off the first before it could sputter out and he watched as Shane passed Marie, went back to the hole, and stretched himself out on the floor. He lowered his arms and grunted.
A moment later an older, naked man climbed into the room. Frank nodded, as Shane introduced them.
Frank lit another match, and David found a candelabrum with the nubs of old candles in it. The wicks soon flickered with flame. The light offered by the tarnished piece of silver was one of comfort as shadows flickered on the wall.
Shane bent over Marie, checked her pulse and shook his head.
“She’s in bad shape,” Shane said, sitting back. “And your arm looks like garbage.”
Frank nodded. “Pretty much junk.”
David, Frank noticed, was covered in a multitude of scratches. Bruises seemed to blossom on the older man’s pale skin. He shivered as well, and Frank knew it was from shock more than the cold of the room, although that wasn’t helping matters.
Shane was the only one of them who looked as though he was fine. He had a few cuts on his face and head, other than those, he seemed unperturbed by the world around him.
Frank took a deep breath and said, “I think we need to find that room, Shane. We need to get out of here.”
“We did find it,” Shane said. “Look behind you.”
Frank did so, and he saw an open door. It was tall and narrow, and the light of the candelabra illuminated a room lined with a dull metal.
They had found the way out, but not Emmanuel’s bones.
Chapter 56: Forcing Them to Leave
Shane lit a cigarette and said, “I don’t care. The three of you are going.”
Marie remained unconscious, and David had helped to splint Frank's broken arm. The older man had also finally agreed to wrap Shane's sweatshirt around his waist and to wear Frank's.
“You can’t stay here,” Frank argued.
Shane looked at his friend and smiled. "You have a bad break. It needs to be set, and soon before you go into shock. We also don't know what's wrong with Marie. The two of you need a hospital. I'll be fine."
Frank opened his mouth to disagree, but it was David who spoke.
“You’ll die here,” the older man said.
Shane nodded. "Always a possibility. But I could die anywhere and at any time. Death here, at least, would be worthwhile.”
Frank looked at him, and Shane shook his head.
“I’m not doing a suicide by ghost,�
� Shane assured his friend. “I don’t think we’ll have another opportunity, and, to be perfectly blunt, you three are dead weight at this point.”
Neither of the men responded.
“David,” Shane said, “can you get the window open in there while I bring Marie into the room?”
The older man nodded and went into the lead-lined room.
With Frank watching, Shane picked up Marie and carried her limp body into Mr. Johnson’s safe room.
David managed to pop the window open and murmured, “Damn.”
Frank stepped past Shane, looked outside and then back to Shane.
“This is on the first floor,” Frank said. “I never saw a window like this.”
“The house moves,” David said. “Each room, every day, multiple times a day. Only the kitchen and the hall remain in the same place.”
The older man grasped the edges of the window frame, pulled himself up and out of the Keep. Shane passed Marie through the window to David.
“Shane,” Frank said, “you shouldn’t do this.”
“I have a shotgun, salt, and enough lighter fluid to turn this place into a bonfire,” Shane replied.
Frank frowned and hesitated before he said, “We’ll wait for you then. At the car.”
“No,” Shane replied. “You can come back after you get yourselves squared away. But you can’t wait. The three of you need to get seen by a doctor.”
David peered in. “Come on.”
Frank nodded and said, “Good luck.”
"Thanks," Shane responded. He helped Frank out through the window, and then pulled it closed. Lead clamps were around the frame, and he tightened them down before he looked out the warped glass. The two men supported Marie between them, and the trio made for a pitiful sight.
Shane turned away from the image, walked to the exit, closed the door, and pulled the lead shield into place. Then he turned around and looked at the room he was in.
Mr. Johnson had described it well in the letter. Various sized sheets of lead were tacked into place around the room. The only light available was that which the window let in. At the far end of the room was a low, narrow cot with an olive drab woolen blanket on it. Beneath the cot were several boxes, and to the left of the bed was an equally tall and narrow door.