The Haunting

by E. M. MacCallum

  Victor’s voice snagged my attention again. He stood before the monster, arms outstretched. “I cannot let these people pay for my mistake.”

  For the first time, the monster spoke. “A mistake? You had your chance to make it right. To even the scales.” His voice was booming, fury seething in each word.

  “I cannot make another,” Victor protested. “I will not make another mistake. I was foolish.”

  “I warned you I would make you pay!” the monster bellowed, arms akimbo as he took two steps toward Victor. “I got all the parts so you wouldn’t have to. I did all the dirty work so you could live with a free conscience.”

  “There is no free conscience when playing God!” Victor shouted righteously. “For that I’m damned.”

  “You destroyed my work!” the monster shouted.

  I remembered the bodies that Claire had watched him collect and cut to bits. Victor must have disposed of them.

  “As melodramatic as this all is,” Phoebe said and pointed to the duo, “if the monster kills him, who will kill the monster?”

  “Crap.” Grumbling, I stood up straight.

  Before we could think up a plan, the monster grabbed Victor with one oversized hand, engulfing his entire shoulder.

  The movement shook Victor like a stuffed doll. With his other hand, the monster grabbed Victor’s head and twisted it as if he were opening a jar of pickles.

  The crack was loud and telling, and was followed by Robin’s high-pitched screams. Anguish ripped from her throat she sagged in Joel’s arms.

  Phoebe grabbed my shoulder, stunned. “We need fire,” she stammered, her words a whisper.

  “The house. We can trap it in the house. There was plenty of lanterns in there,” I answered.

  Without a word or motion of agreement or disapproval, Phoebe began waving at the monster. Stepping in front of me, she shouted, “Hey!” I understood this as a signal that she liked my idea.

  Read stood, his face scrunched in horror as Phoebe began to hop up and down and shout obscenities. “I’m already a dead girl! Pick me, you fuck!”

  Somewhere amongst her swearing and provoking, the monster took notice.

  He’d been staring at his maker, the man’s body limp in his arms, his head angled strangely.

  The monster reluctantly dropped the corpse and stared at it for several heartbeats. Remorse creased its deformed facial features.

  Victor landed, limp, face embedded in the grass and body twisting impossibly. It was the end of the monster’s maker.

  Aidan rolled onto his stomach slowly, watching but not moving, his eyes trained on Victor. I swore I saw him lick his chops.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Read shouted at Phoebe the moment the monster tilted its oversized chin up to stare at her.

  Ignoring him, Phoebe darted closer. “Come on. Think you’re a tough guy because you can choke girls?”

  Robin’s free hand moved to her reddened throat. “Don’t,” she protested in a wail. “Please.”

  From what I could tell, Victor’s death hadn’t snapped her out of her trance.

  The monster turned its back to us. To all of us.

  It was so unexpected I found myself frozen.

  Even Phoebe quieted as she lowered her arms in shock. Glancing over her shoulder at me, she raised her eyebrows.

  Read sprinted toward us.

  The monster reached the trees and kept walking away. He didn’t turn around, glance back, or make any move to return—yet. He just kept walking, leaving Victor’s body behind and the rest of us watching in amazement.

  Catching up to us, Read said breathlessly, “Let him go. He’s probably going off to die.”

  “Like in the book?” Phoebe asked.

  Read blinked. “Did the fake-me say that?”

  “Yeah,” I answered and glanced towards Robin. “She’s still like that.”

  “Can Aidan move? We should round up,” Phoebe suggested.

  I automatically volunteered by walking towards the large roan-colored wolf. Read and Phoebe started towards Joel, Claire, and Robin.

  Kneeling near him though not touching him, I whispered, “Can you walk?”

  He turned his wolf-ish head and did a dog-like gesture by lolling his tongue out and panting at me with a lop-sided grin.

  I smiled back at him. “Come on, this can’t last that much longer.”

  “I found the door!” I heard Claire yell.

  “See,” I said to Aidan, as if I had planned it all along.

  He started to stand, staggering and favoring his front left paw again. In fact, he didn’t put any pressure on it at all, hobbling on three legs instead of four.

  I walked alongside him until we reached the house.

  The front door was no longer red but black. Nailed to the front was a slip of white paper, the edges curled as if it had been hanging there for hours.

  Still holding Robin, who shook but otherwise didn’t seem eager to run away, Joel leaned forward and read the note.

  “Say it out loud,” Phoebe suggested when she saw Aidan and I come around the corner.

  “It’s a riddle,” Claire said to us as we neared.

  Robin eyed the limping wolf suspiciously and seemed to press herself closer to Joel.

  I saw Claire roll her eyes, but she didn’t start any confrontation.

  Reading, Joel began:

  “What is considered good and bad?

  “What is dark and deeply sad?

  “What effects species of different kinds,

  “And different types of different minds?

  “This will never leave your world, Earth,

  “And it shan’t have anything to do with birth.”

  I grimaced. I hated riddles. “Okay, something considered good and bad, but it’s dark and sad?”

  “Never will leave Earth,” Claire said, eyes rolling up as she mulled it over in her head.

  Robin asked timidly, “The ocean? If I answer your riddle for you, will you let me go?”

  Ignored completely, Phoebe pointed out, “Sounds like it effects everything and everyone. Could be the ocean.”

  “Everything living,” Read corrected.

  Aidan growled, making Robin squeal and nearly flip around Joel. If he wasn’t still holding onto her, I would think she’d be hiding behind him. She started babbling under her breath, but I couldn’t make out the exact words; she spoke too fast in that thickened accent.

  “Death,” Joel said finally.

  I nodded. “Maybe Death will be in our next Challenge.”

  Phoebe snorted. “Honey, Death has been stalking us through most of these Challenges.”

  I knew she was making light of her situation, but I could see it stung her as much as it did me.

  “What makes you say that?” Claire asked, blissfully changing the subject.

  I pointed to the door. “The only black door in the entire Challenge.”

  Read smirked. “You’re right.”

  “The only downside,” I said, “is that we didn’t get a ring this round.”

  “Robin did,” Joel said.

  I glanced at Robin as she clucked her tongue. “My name isn’t Robin,” she seethed. “I’ve said this before. I’m Elizabeth Frankenstein.”

  Not wanting to argue with her, I looked to her hand.

  On her left hand, I saw the silver ring. “Wedding band?”

  “Yup,” Joel answered.

  That left just Read and me.

  “If this is death, this could be the last Challenge,” I said uneasily.

  Two rings were never given out in one Challenge before.

  We fell silent, our little group, staring at the double black doors and hesitating.

  This was it. The deciding moment for the rest of us who’d survived.

  Phoebe threw on her authoritative voice, straightening her posture as she said firmly, “We stick together. Don’t separate from the group, even if it’s to check out something. We keep close enough to smell B.O. Don’t lea
ve anyone behind.” She glanced at Aidan. “‘Some of us are injured so we need to work double to keep them with us. Read and I will hold Aidan up if he can’t walk.”

  Read moved closer to the wolf at my side.

  “Joel,” Phoebe turned to him, “watch out for Claire and Robin.”

  He nodded dutifully.

  “Fuller,” she tilted her chin towards me, “if we need you to use some of that magic, can you?”

  “No.” Seeing Phoebe’s eyes narrow, I said, “I’ll see if I can.” It was strange to have something called “magic.” It had fizzled out, but maybe I’d had enough time to recharge. If I used it, though, there’d be hell to pay.

  “Alright.” Phoebe squared her shoulders, facing the door. “Everyone ready?”

  “For?” Robin demanded in her accent, her eyebrows furrowed. “Unhand me. I can walk,” she snapped at Joel.

  “Yes,” Joel answered for Robin, ignoring her completely as he held on tight.

  “Ready,” Claire, Read, and I echoed. I stepped up beside the door, gathering up Aidan’s tattered pants.

  Phoebe stepped up to the door first.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  I wish I could say I was brave and ready for anything at this point. But I wasn’t. I was scared as hell when Phoebe opened that black door, the door that hinted at death.

  Facing off against Death? Or more death to come?

  I thought of Cody and Cooper. Was it fair that they should be dead? No, but there wasn’t anyone to blame. I hated that there wasn’t anyone to focus the hatred on, other than Damien, of course. But this was his life. What if it were about to become my life? Damien didn’t stab Cody; Gretchen did. Damien didn’t drown Cooper; I did. I shook my head. It was an accident, I reminded myself.

  What about Neive? I felt the edge of bitterness with the question. She was practically raised by Damien until who-knows-when she escaped. And if she could get out, why keep coming back if she didn’t want to stay here? She saw me as a rival, I knew that, but she was still my sister. I had to bring her home somehow. I picked up Aidan’s tattered clothes that I’d left by the door and struggled to keep my mind from drifting away.

  Why would she want to be here? I could only imagine how lonely it could be. I didn’t want that for my sister, no matter how much we had grown apart. She was my twin, my earliest friend.

  Taking a deep breath to tangle the rising emotions, I stepped through the threshold after Joel, Claire, and Robin. Aidan limped behind me.

  The moment Robin was through the door, I heard her gasp in a meek breath. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “OH MY—”

  Joel slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her shout.

  At least she didn’t have an accent this time.

  I glanced back to see Aidan twisting on the floor. His body arched, and he whimpered as our eyes met.

  I quickly looked away, embarrassed.

  His spine tried to curve, bend, and twist. The sound of snapping echoed through the vaulted stone ceiling.

  It was as if we had stepped back in time to a grand European church.

  The ceiling was huge and reached maybe a hundred feet over our heads. Pews lined the floor, rows upon rows of wooden glossy benches. Centered at the front, on a shortened stage, was an elaborate wooden podium. Angels were carved into the sides, holding up the table where a fat, weathered book laid open.

  Holy statues stood behind it. One was of the Virgin Mary holding an infant Jesus, and the other was of the cross. The crucifix stood taller than Mary, maybe at least twelve feet high, solid and thick.

  “Wow,” Phoebe breathed, her voice carrying through the hallowed walls, echoing softly.

  Tall tinted windows, too high for anyone to peek out of, allowed very little light through. It must be night outside.

  Torches lined the walls, the light from them casting toward the ceiling.

  To our right, I saw a confessional with carvings of cherubs lining the top. A birdbath type of structure sat near it. I could only assume it was for holy water, yet it was empty.

  Aidan grunted behind me, but this time it was his voice, not a wolfish one.

  Spinning, I immediately wished I hadn’t.

  I expected him to be naked, and I admit in a small shameless way I was curious. In another way, I really wasn’t.

  Coated in a sheen of sweat, he curled up, panting, his pale eyes wide as he began to shiver.

  I put one hand to the ground to support my squat and handed him his pants. I tried to catch his eyes, but they kept wavering, flickering from object to person to wall and repeating.

  “Aidan,” I whispered and pushed the pants near his good arm.

  The touch made him jolt and wince at the same time. He looked to the pants, staring at them as if they were foreign.

  His arm lay on the cobblestone floor at an unnatural angle, making my stomach churn.

  “Aidan.” I whispered his name, seeing recognition the moment his feral gaze found me.

  I wanted to touch him but thought it might be overstepping my bounds considering the shock he was in.

  “Aidan,” I whispered again. “We’re in the new Challenge. You just changed back from being a wolf.”

  He twitched his head in a nod.

  He shivered violently, and I wanted to give him something to warm up, a blanket, extra shirt, anything that would stop it.

  His teeth chattered as his fingers curled around the edge of the folded, torn pants.

  Standing, I turned away to give him some privacy; I had to wave at Claire to turn around too. She blushed and quickly focused on the podium ahead.

  This would be a somewhat fitting place for death to visit. I tried to hide my levity by tugging my bloodied shirt and chewing on my cheeks to squash the smile.

  This was insane. We were all going to be insane after this.

  I pulled on my shirt harder. There was no use losing it now, not when we were so close to being out.

  The idea of getting everyone away from this place sobered me instantly. The weight of the task ahead dropped down on me like bricks.

  Read was good enough to help Aidan. With one broken arm, I doubted it was an easy task to put on clothes. I heard Read mutter, “Don’t mention it,” before moving toward Phoebe.

  Aidan came up beside me, wearing his ripped jeans, his jaw clenched to stifle the chattering.

  I wrapped an arm around his clammy, chilled body and rubbed his shoulder lightly to warm him but not jostle the broken arm.

  He leaned into me and nodded towards the front of the church. In a low voice, he asked, “Should we go to the door?” He held his broken arm tight to his stomach, grimacing with each word.

  I hadn’t noticed it before, but a door stood behind the podium, half hidden behind scarlet curtains.

  “This place is going to be huge, isn’t it?” Phoebe whispered.

  Joel nodded.

  I motioned us forward. “Well, we have to start this someday.”

  Claire cringed and slid closer to Joel and Robin.

  With tears reddening her cheeks, Robin came closer to Aidan and me. Wiping at her eyes, she sniffled, looking lost. In that instant, I felt sorry for her. Reaching over, I took her hand, initiating a glare from Phoebe, but she otherwise stayed silent.

  Robin squeezed my hand painfully hard. She was strong for someone so petite. She turned her eyes to me, glassy and shockingly green from the tears. “I felt everything,” she whispered as we started moving. “Everything Elizabeth felt. It was like I was actually watching my best friend die.”

  Read and Phoebe exchanged a glance.

  After a long pause, I saw her mulling something over. She hesitated before asking. I was certain it had been bugging her the moment she regained her own memories. It was the question I’d hoped she never ask.

  “Where’s Cody?”

  Phoebe opened her mouth, but I hissed, silencing everyone. “Stay quiet,” I warned. “We don’t know what can hear us.”

  Mostly I wanted to avoid the
question. Seeing her slackened, hopeful gaze, I could see she was tired and emotionally wrought. Learning about Cody could put her over the edge. We needed as many people working together as possible.

  Shuffling between the pews on a dark red carpet, we kept our eyes wide and alert. Every sound we inspected, every wavering shadow we stared at, and every pew we checked. In fact, Read ducked several times to check under the pews to ensure nothing crept up on us from under the wooden benches.

  Though it was a slow process, it was thorough and slightly unnerving. Each time Read crawled down on his hands and knees to inspect under the pews, I half expected something to jump out at him. Luckily, nothing did.

  Our footsteps were light and inaudible along the carpet. Only four out of seven of us wore shoes, and they were sneakers, which was to our advantage.

  Moving collectively up the narrow steps, past the podium, we aimed for the door. It was half hidden behind a curtain.

  Phoebe reached the door first. She glanced over her shoulder and mouthed, “Ready?”

  We all nodded even if we weren’t ready. I knew my stomach wasn’t. I didn’t want to know what was on the other side of that door. I wanted it to be boring. More than anything, I wanted boredom.

  Gripping the handle, Phoebe twisted and shouldered it in. She crouched as she peered into the darkness.

  I felt my heart beginning to beat harder. Darker meant more hiding places for our enemy.

  I realized I had been holding onto Aidan harder, my fingers digging into his opposite arm, when I felt him move away. He still shivered, though not nearly as violent.

  I tilted my chin up. Our eyes met, and for the briefest moment, I saw a twinge of hope. “We’ll figure out a sling for you,” I whispered.

  He nodded, gripping his swelling arm hard as if to try and hold the two pieces together. His face was a mask of contorted pain.

  Phoebe slipped into the darkness and reached back blindly. She got Joel, who grabbed Claire, who then had Robin, myself, Read, and then Aidan. Read had Aidan’s shoulder so he could cradle his broken arm. We were holding onto each other as we had during the witch’s Challenge.