Malevolent Hall 1666AD

by Rosemary Lynch

  “Shush, it’s okay Parker,” she said, giving his head a quick reassuring pat. Parker drew back baring his teeth in a silent snarl. Matilda looked down at him.

  “Parker, go and lie down,” she said, forcefully. Parker made a growling noise, just to warn Eric he was still here, and settled back down in front of the fire.

  “You are Eric, aren’t you?” she asked, turning back to him. Her heart pounded as he walked towards her. Stopping a breath away from her, he lifted his hand and caressed her cheek. Matilda closed her eyes, pushing into his hand.

  “Yes, Tilly, I am,” he confirmed.

  “Eric, why can’t you tell me anything?” she asked. He smiled at her.

  “Because of the enchantment, if I told you who I was you would not be able to undo it.”

  She leaned both hands back onto the table and gazed at him.

  “I remembered your name,” she said, her eyes watching his pale face intensely.

  “Yes, you did,” he said, his eyes studying her with meaning.

  “We were lovers weren’t we, Eric,” she whispered. He pressed his lips together.

  “See you do not need me to tell you,” he said.

  She pushed off the table. “So we were,” she replied stepping up to him. He dipped his head.

  “I knew it,” she whispered. “What happened to us?” she asked.

  “Tilly,” he said her name with emphasis.

  “I know you can’t tell me,” she groaned. He lifted his hand to her face and swept his fingers through her hair. Matilda gave an involuntary shudder at the coldness the wake of his fingers left behind.

  “Eric,” she said, moving closer. She reached up and stroked the side of his face. “Why does Mike remind me of you?” she asked.

  “We are the same Matilda, he and I, this is why,” he answered.

  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “You will, I promise. You need to try and remember where you hid the book.”

  “What book, and how long ago did this all happen, can you tell me that at least?” she asked.

  “It was around four hundred years ago. You wrote the enchantment in your book of shadows, and you must recite the reversal spell in order to end this and to stop him, from returning to the living.”

  “Him, do you mean Richard? You’re telling me four hundred years ago I was living here, in this Hall?” she asked.

  “You remember Richard?” he asked, inclining his head towards her. She shook her head.

  “No, another - erm ghost said that Richard was coming and that because of me, he had killed her and many others.”

  He nodded, and pressed a kiss to her lips. Matilda groaned and was reluctant to let his lips leave hers so he could speak.

  “She is right, in a fit of rage Richard killed the other seven in revenge for what you did,” he said.

  “What I did, what do you mean?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  “You can’t tell me,” she whispered.

  “No, I cannot.”

  She glanced towards the kitchen door as she heard someone banging.

  Parker jumped up and barked, and wagging his tail, he shot off towards the front door.

  His fingers traced the shape of her jaw, and he lowered his head, kissing her once more, before fading away before her eyes.

  Matilda closed her eyes at his touch, at his kiss. When she felt him no longer, she opened her eyes and stared for a moment at nothing. The banging at the door brought her back to reality.

  “I’m coming,” she called, dashing out of the kitchen and hurrying to the front door.

  “Hi,” Mike said with a smile, as she opened the door. “Sorry, is it too late? Yes, hello boy,” he said, patting Parker as he jumped up at him.

  “No, not at all, come in. How is he?” Matilda asked. He followed Matilda to the kitchen.

  “Not good I’m afraid, he’s in a coma, and the doctors are not sure why. They think he may have gone into shock.”

  “Shock?” she questioned. “Do you want a glass?” she asked, lifting up a bottle of wine.

  “Yes, please,” he replied.

  “Why would he be in shock?” she questioned pouring the wine into a glass. He shrugged as she offered him a seat with a wave of her hand. He sat down on the sofa nearest the fire.

  “I have no idea. No one seems to know what happened, and we still can’t get hold of Sam.”

  “Sam?” she questioned sitting next to him and giving him his glass.

  “Thanks. Yeah, he was the last person with Carlos that afternoon. They were both around the back of the west wing securing the last of the scaffolding.”

  “Perhaps he went home?” she suggested.

  “Maybe, but he’s not answering his phone and his car is still here,” he replied.

  “That’s weird, and what about the blood, was he injured?”

  “No, it wasn’t his. He hasn’t got a mark on him, and it’s a different blood group.”

  “God,” she mumbled, and she took a sip of her wine.

  “Matilda, the police will most probably come around the site tomorrow. The doctor reported it as it wasn’t Carlos’s blood.”

  “Shit, you don’t think it’s Sam’s, do you?” she asked. He took a deep breath, and a tentative sip of his wine.

  “I don’t know I hope not. The guys searched all around the woods near to where they were, but they didn’t find anything.”

  “What if Carlos did, you know do something to him, and that’s why he’s in shock?” she said.

  He opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a loud bang.

  Parker barked.

  They both spun around and looked towards the kitchen door.

  “Did you hear that?” he asked. Matilda nodded. “Is there anyone else here?” he asked.

  “No, only us,” she replied.

  There was another bang, and another. Parker barked and ran out into the foyer.

  “Stay here,” he demanded, jumping to his feet and heading towards the door. Matilda followed behind. If there were another demon in the Hall Matilda was not about to let him face it alone. Even if it meant she would have to reveal her magic to him.

  Mike stopped and turned to her. She frowned at him.

  “It’s my house,” she said. He nodded reluctantly, and she walked with him towards the staircase. Mike flicked the light on, and they ventured up the stairs. It banged again, and Parker growled. Matilda looked at the dog and his hackles were up, his lips pulled back over his teeth.

  “Parker’s spooked,” she said.

  “I know,” he replied quietly.

  “It’s coming from my aunt’s bedroom,” she whispered pointing to the door. They walked towards it. Mike lifted the latch and pushed the door open. They both glanced into the darkness.

  Mike reached a hand around the wall and switched on the light.

  “It’s just a window,” he said, sounding relieved as he saw it open and banging back and forth in the wind. He walked across the bedroom.

  “How did that come undone? I didn’t open it,” she said, as he closed and secured it.

  “Maybe the lock was loose and it just caught in the wind?” he suggested. “It’s getting pretty wild out there.”

  He looked at Parker, and the dog stood outside the room. He glanced around the bedroom and gave a shudder, as the atmosphere was chilling.

  “Parker, come here,” Mike said, but Parker refused to move, instead he just growled.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Matilda asked. Mike shrugged.

  “I don’t know,” he replied, but the hairs on the back of his neck were sticking up. He looked at the make-up on the table.

  “It is as it was,” she whispered.

  “Sorry?” he said, turning to look at her.

  “This room it’s how it was when they died. It’s been like this for eleven years.”

  “Shit,” he said. “No wonder it gives me the chills.”

  Parker barked. Both tur
ned, and Mike grabbed her arm.

  “Did you see that?” he asked.

  “A shadow?” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  Parker whimpered.

  “Come on,” he urged slipping his hand onto her back and ushering her out of the room. They glanced left and then right, but there was nothing there.

  “It must have been Parker,” Mike theorised. “His shadow - or something,” he added.

  Matilda nodded in agreement, not wanting to think it might have been something else, even though Parker now sat in the hall downstairs.

  As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Matilda stopped.

  “Mike, do you fancy another bottle of wine?” she asked.

  “Sure,” he replied.

  “Well down the end of the corridor, there’s a door and it goes down to my daddy’s wine cellar. I haven’t braved it yet.” He held out his hand.

  “Shall we?” She nodded, accepting his hand. He switched the hall light on and led her towards the door.

  “You go first,” she whispered as they stood in front of the door.

  “Thanks, so the cellar monster gets me first, is that your plan?” he chuckled. She laughed and slapped his back, as he opened the door to darkness.

  “The light’s on the left,” she whispered.

  “Thanks,” he whispered back, and he hit the switch. “Why are we whispering?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered back. They looked at each other and laughed again.

  “Come on then, down into the depths,” he teased. “Parker, stay.”

  Matilda followed him down the stone steps and into the cellar. It was freezing, and she shivered at the cold.

  “Hey, you’re right. Look at this lot. Your dad certainly liked wine,” he said approaching the storage area. “There must be a few hundred bottles down here,” he added.

  “From what I can remember he liked to collect them. I think some of them are quite rare,” Matilda informed him. They pulled a few bottles and wiping off the dust, they read the labels.

  “How about this one?” she said, passing him the bottle.

  “Mmm,” he replied reading the label.

  “Oh and this one,” she said, passing him another, “and maybe one more.”

  “Matilda, I have to work tomorrow,” he said, lifting an eyebrow at her.

  “I know we don’t have to drink them all now. Actually, we’ll take that one too,” she said, lifting out another bottle.

  He looked at her.

  “What? It saves me having to come back by myself. It’s bloody creepy down here.”

  “Fair enough,” he laughed. They headed back up the stairs, and his dog sat waiting for him. Back in the kitchen, Mike opened a bottle, and she grabbed a couple of clean glasses.

  Pulling out a chair, they sat at the kitchen table and Parker lay back in front of the Aga.

  “Oh, this is good,” she moaned. “My father had great taste in wine.”

  “I agree. This is really nice.”

  “Nibbles?” she asked, jumping up from the chair. He watched as she went to the cupboard and took out a large bag of chili crisps, and a couple of plain biscuits. She opened them and offered him one.

  “Thanks,” he said, taking a few.

  “There was something I was going to ask you actually,” he said, as he munched on a crisp.

  “What’s that?” she asked, throwing Parker the biscuits. Parker looked up as they landed in front of him. He sniffed and then scoffed them down.

  “When we rebuild the west tower, do you want that solar glass we talked about, as I need to get the order in next week so it gets here in time?”

  “Yes, please,” she replied, before taking a sip of her wine.

  Parker jumped up from the floor and started barking. He growled and moved towards the kitchen door.

  “Parker, shut up,” Mike moaned at him.

  “Mike, you know I told you yesterday that I was researching my family tree,” she said.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “Well, I’ve found something a little odd,” she said, looking at him.

  “Odd, what do you mean?”

  She jumped at the loud bang. Mike and Matilda exchanged looks, and they both looked towards the kitchen door.

  “You can’t be serious?” he said, and he stood. Matilda put her hands on the kitchen table and pushed herself up.

  “I’ll go,” he said, giving her a look

  “We’ll go,” she replied, ignoring it. He gave her a quick smile before walking out of the kitchen.

  As they began to climb the stairs for the second time that evening, her hand slipped up onto his arm, a gesture of comfort as well as worry.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! The noise was getting louder. Parker stopped at the top of the stairs.

  “Come on,” Mike said to him, but the dog refused to move. “It’s your aunt’s room again,” he whispered. She nodded back silently, keeping a firm grip on his arm.

  Mike cautiously lifted the latch to her aunt’s bedroom and pushed the creaking door open. His hand lifted to the light switch and he turned it on.

  “It’s the bloody window again,” she cursed. “How has that opened again?” she begged.

  “I’ve no idea,” he replied and he walked to the window. It was banging back and forth in the wind. He closed it. “It must have a dodgy catch. Wait here, I’m going to grab my tool box, I’ll be five minutes max will you be okay?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she said, even though her tone was grim. Mike hurried out of the bedroom, and he glanced at Parker sat at the top of the stairs.

  “Coward,” he said to him in jest as he past him and shot down the stairs two at a time. Just as he reached the last four steps he tripped, and went flying down the remainder of the stairs. Matilda heard him yelp and then Parker barking.

  “Mike!” she yelled, and she shot out of the bedroom. She ran down the corridor, glancing at the suits of armour as she did. She frowned, as she could have sworn they had all faced the other way. She spotted him, picking himself up from the bottom of the stairs. She hurried down to him.

  “Are you okay, did you fall?” she asked. Mike brushed himself down.

  “Yeah,” he replied, embarrassed.

  “How, what did you trip on?” she asked looking back at the stairs. They were free from the carpet with no loose boards, or treads she could see.

  “I have no idea.” He gave a nervous chuckle. “If it were not insane I would have said a cat.” He stopped and looked at her. “You don’t have a cat do you?”

  “No,” she replied, shaking her head equally puzzled.

  “No, I though not. Never mind, I probably tripped over my own feet,” he said.

  “Where’s Parker?” she asked.

  “Erm, chasing the invisible cat, I think,” he said, and he gave a Matilda a huge fake grin.

  “What!” she said, with a deep frown.

  “I think he shot off into the kitchen,” he replied.

  “Oh, are you sure you’re okay, you didn’t hurt yourself?” He shook his head.

  “No only my pride,” he replied with a grin. “I’ll go and get that tool box now.” Mike hurried to the front door, and disappeared through it.

  Matilda chuckled to herself as she wandered to the window. She peered through and watched him climb the few steps to his mobile porta-cabin. She looked at the plants on the windowsill, it still puzzled her how they had bloomed flowers like that suddenly. They were still open, bright pink and smelling delightful. Mike caught her eye emerging from his porta-cabin carrying his metal toolbox in his hand.

  The front door opened and he walked in.

  “Right this should solve the problem until we get the windows renovated,” he said, and he marched back up the stairs with determination in his step. Matilda followed behind. She stopped at one of the suits of armour.

  “I swear you were facing the other way just now,” she muttered. Her hand slowly lifted the visor up and she peered
inside. Her eyes looked upon nothing; the suit was empty.

  She jumped at the banging, and realising it was Mike with his hammer, she hurried into the bedroom just as he was finishing.

  “There that didn’t take long. I have nailed it shut for now so there is no way that the window will open again,” he assured.

  “Good, thank you,” she replied, gratefully and she gave an unexpected yawn.

  Mike noticed.

  “Well, I guess I should hit the hay. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow and there’s a big delivery coming in early.”

  “Oh, okay,” she replied following him out of the bedroom. “This was nice,” she said, following him down the stairs. He looked over his shoulder at her. “Well not the window, I mean the drink and chat.”

  “Yes, it was,” he agreed.

  “Maybe you could, you know, pop over again one evening? It gets a little lonely,” she asked.

  He stood with his hand wavering on the front door.

  “I would like that,” he agreed. “Well, good night then, see you in the morning. Parker!” he yelled. The dog shot out of the kitchen, bounded towards him and shot out the door.

  “Good night, Mike,” she replied.

  For a moment, he hovered on the doorstep. He wanted so much to give her a kiss goodnight, but he knew it would be inappropriate. She would most probably freak out and start screaming. So instead, he merely smiled at her, turned, and hurried down the steps.

  Matilda closed and bolted the door. She leaned against it and grinned to herself. As she pushed off from the door, the flowers on the windowsill puffed out a ray of sparkling magic, unseen by anyone’s eyes.

  She went back in the kitchen, and saw her laptop on the table.

  “Oh damn,” she groaned as she had planned to tell him about what she had found. Tomorrow, she would tell him. She cleared up, and went up stairs to the bathroom and ran a bath. She climbed in and sank into its depth. As she soaked herself, she thought of Mike, and of the demon that she had fought. She was scared, but at the same time, hopeful that she was at last going to solve the mystery of what or who killed her family.

  Chapter Eleven

  An hour later, Matilda got out of the bath and wrapped a towel around her body.