Malevolent Hall 1666AD

by Rosemary Lynch

“Thank you,” she said.

  “Hey it’s okay, we’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise.” His eyes gentle as he gazed up at her.

  “You said you didn’t have any tcp?”

  “No, but I have some homemade lotion left from the other day. It should still be all right. It’s in the fridge, in a small glass pot,” she said.

  Mike pushed himself up off the floor and went to the fridge. His eyes scanned the contents and then reached for a glass pot.

  “Is this it?” he asked, showing it to her.

  She laughed and shook her head.

  “No, that’s homemade mayonnaise.”

  “Oh,” he replied, giving her a grin, and putting it back.

  “This?”

  “Yes, that’s it,” she replied, with a nod.

  He walked back to her. Grabbing a clean tea towel, he dried her feet and applied the lotion.

  “There you go,” he said, standing up. He took the bowl of water back to the sink, and tipped it away.

  Matilda rose to her feet and gave a sigh as that already felt better, and she walked towards him.

  As Mike turned, he tried not to stare at her but it was hard, as she was so beautiful. His heart thumped in his chest, and he longed to take hold of her in his arms and kiss her.

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay down here?” she asked, tilting her head and looking up at him. He was only a few inches away and she breathed in his scent as she ran a hand through her tangled hair.

  “I’ll be fine, I sleep like a log anywhere,” he assured with a gentle smile.

  There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other. The corners of Mike’s mouth turned up and his eyes sparkled at he gazed at her.

  He lifted his hand and touched her shoulder. Matilda shivered, not because she was cold but because of the electrical charge she felt go right through her. She took a heavy breath.

  “You should go and get into bed. You feel cold again,” he said, gently rubbing her arm.

  She nodded, her big green eyes still gazing at him.

  “Mike,” she whispered. When he was with her, she felt safe, and unafraid. She really wanted to ask him to come to bed with her, just to lie beside her and keep her warm, and safe.

  “Hmm,” he replied.

  “Would you - come up with me?” she asked. He tilted his head as he looked at her. “Just to share the bed I mean, nothing else,” she added quickly. “I’m still a little scared,” she confessed.

  Mike took in a breath. It was taking every ounce of self-control that he had not to try to kiss her now, yet alone lying beside her in bed.

  “Please,” she whispered seeing he was unsure, and she lifted her hand to his arm.

  He nodded unable to refuse her when she needed him. Gently pressing his hand to the small of her back, he guided her towards the kitchen door. He glanced over his shoulder.

  “Parker, stay here,” he said, and he switched the light off and closed the kitchen door.

  Parker growled.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Lay him down, and strip him,” she said. The two demons dropped Sam’s corpse to the floor and began removing his clothing. When they finished she knelt beside him. Pushing her cloak behind her shoulders, and using her long, black fingernails the woman began to burn words into Sam’s chest. His skin sizzled at her touch and the faint aroma of burning flesh filled the air. It was a message for her Lord.

  The woman rose to her feet.

  “Give him to me,” she said. The two demons lifted Sam’s naked corpse. She gripped one arm around his waist, and slung his other around her shoulder.

  “I failed my Lord in retrieving the girl. I shall take this body back myself.”

  “You will die,” one demon said. “Let me do it, I’m a lesser demon, my lady,” he offered with a bow.

  “No. So be my punishment, he will know I have failed to secure the woman and he will send another to assist you,” she replied.

  The four demons took five steps back from her. One lifted his hand and threw a glass bottle to her feet. It hit the ground and smashed; a vapour of mist began to rise from the ground and surround her.

  “Quaero inferno sunt virtute magna redde Domino Demon praecipio tib,” she chanted. “Quaero inferno sunt virtute magna redde Domino Demon praecipio tib.” The ground shook, and a swirling whirling mini tornado spun around her. Lifting the decaying autumn leaves and acorns in the powerful vortex and in a flash of bright light, she and Sam’s corpse disappeared into the earth.

  ***

  1666AD

  Within a cave deep in the woods, Richard rose to his feet as the portal swirled in front of him.

  “Someone returns, prepare for a body,” he ordered to the gathered, and stepping down from the stone throne on which he was seated, he walked towards them. Five-cloaked men and five-cloaked women turned their eyes to the gateway as it began rumbling. With an almighty bang, the gate opened and two bodies dropped to the ground.

  “Damn it!” he cursed staring at the body of his servant. “She has failed me.” He read the words the woman burned into Sam’s chest.

  “He is already there,” he cursed. “This is why she was defeated! He must have been the one whispering to her. Bring him to the altar, and dispose of her body,” he ordered. Richard spun around and walked to the opposite side of the cavern. His hand pushed three stones on the wall opening a secret entrance, and lifting his hand he shot out a flame and lit the torches hanging on the walls ahead of him. Two demons lifted Sam’s body, and gripping him under the armpits, they dragged him along the corridor after him.

  Stopping, Richard opened another secret door and walked towards a stone altar situated at the back. With a swipe of his hand, the candlesticks and a book sitting on the top flew off and landed on the floor with a clatter and a thud.

  “He is still warm, my Lord,” one said as they lowered Sam’s body on it.

  He offered him Sam’s arm.

  “He has suffered massive blood loss,” Richard growled, running his finger across the gaping hole in Sam’s throat. “She disobeyed my order not to harm him,” he fumed.

  He withdrew a dagger from his belt, and sliced open Sam’s wrist.

  “Sanguis futurorum Pace tua potestate tenebrarum, inquit, tradidi vobis animus vicissim,” he chanted. His lips enclosing around the veins on Sam’s wrist, he drank until he had drained every, last drop of blood from his body.

  Removing his mouth from Sam’s wrist, he discarded his arm in anger.

  “Damn it, there still isn’t enough for me to fully form,” he shouted.

  The ten dropped to their knees and hung their heads. Richard’s eyes glowered as his body absorbed Sam’s blood.

  “You,” he yelled, pointing with his finger. The woman rose to her feet as he approached her.

  “You will fetch me another, and ensure he is not harmed do you understand!” he growled.

  “Yes, my Lord,” she replied.

  “Time is running out. It will soon be hallows eve, and I must have the blood of the future if I’m to pass through in full body with my powers.” He spun around to the gathered.

  “Prepare her,” he ordered. “She leaves immediately.”

  They moved her to the next chamber, and she stood within a reversed pentagram in the centre of the room ready for the transportation.

  The remaining men and woman held hands and gathered in around her.

  Richard moved towards them lifting his hands. He was just about to start, when he had a thought. He swung his hand to the right and using an invisible force picked up the silver candlestick from the altar room and drew it to him. It shot along the corridor, through the next chamber and into his waiting hand.

  “Take this; men are easily tempted by objects of wealth. Use it to draw one to you,” he said. The woman lifted her hand and as Richard threw it to her; she caught it.

  Returning his attention back to the ceremony, Richard opened his arms wide once again.

  “Darkness of light,” h
e chanted. “Grant me thy power,” he yelled. As electricity pulsated from his hands, he approached the gathered. He touched the shoulder of one, and the power spread like wild fire to each one in turn. Soon the circle glowed in a fiery red light, and the men and women shook as they absorbed the energy.

  “Aperire ostium tenebrarum, et accipe haec puella,” Richard cried. Together they stepped forward covering the woman with the energy. The portal began to open, and in unison, they lifted their hands. With an almighty bang, she shot into the air and disappeared.

  Richard looked on – The veins in his neck pulsating as blackness burned through his blood. The day he killed Matilda of the past he gave his soul to Lucifer in exchange for the power of a demon lord. In return for his new gift, he killed the other seven women, offering their souls to Lucifer. He and his demons had murdered many more since in order to gain the power he needed to transport to the future. He took Matilda’s younger sister by force as an act of revenge, and fathered twins, a Rhiamon daughter and a Tovenaar, son. He neither desired, nor cared for the children or for their mother and had immediately abandoned them.

  There were only two things Richard desired, revenge, and Matilda. He returned to the stone alter.

  Withdrawing his dagger, he sliced across Sam’s chest, opening it. Pulling the sleeve back on his cloak, he delved inside Sam’s chest and ripped out his heart. Shoving Sam’s body on the floor, he ran his fingers through the blood left on the surface drawing different kinds of symbols.

  “My Lord, it will drain you,” a voice said from behind. Richard turned and looked sharply over his shoulder.

  “I need to see her, I need her to find me the book,” he growled. “I will not fail to take her this time!”

  The man nodded, and summoning the rest of the gathered, they encircled the stone table. One of the women put a small, black, pot on top and Richard placed the heart in side. Using his dagger, he cut his palm, allowing his blood to drop into the caldron. With a pestle, he crushed the heart, combining it with his blood.

  “Cum sanguine futura praeteritis, nulla vis, mihi,” he chanted. Lifting the caldron to his mouth, he drank the concoction. Slamming the caldron down, he took a step back. “Cum sanguine futura praeteritis, nulla vis, mihi,” he chanted again. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and mist enveloped his body.

  Chapter Thirteen

  In the morning, Matilda awoke to find Mike gone. She grabbed his pillow, and still smelling of his scent, she hugged it. Nothing sexual had happened; they had just snuggled down together and slept. Although he gave her a goodnight kiss on the cheek, she had to fight with every ounce of her self-control not to grab hold of him and kiss him properly. She knew exactly what would have happened if she had.

  Not that she would have minded, in fact she was beginning to become obsessed with the thought of sleeping with him. Every time he came near her, her body responded accordingly, with hot pleasurable tingles that pulsated in every part of her body.

  She sat up and swung her legs around. Glancing down to her feet, she assessed the damage from last night. Her injuries were not so severe in the light of day, but she still wondered what really happened. She had to admit she was unsure if she was more scared at the thought of it being ghosts and demons, or some crazy man that had taken her. Personally, she preferred to think she had slept walked as it made far more sense.

  She stood and walked to the window. The men were already working and she saw Mike talking to his crew.

  She went downstairs, had a shower, and got dressed.

  Matilda was just about to start making her breakfast when there was a knock at the door. She hurried to open it.

  “Morning,” Mike said. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Much better, thanks again for last night, Mike,” she replied.

  For a moment, he stared at her thinking about last night. As he had lain next to her feeling her skin against his and inhaling her scent, he wanted to make love to her. However, knowing it would have been wrong he curbed his urge.

  “Would you like some breakfast?” she asked, reaching out and touching his arm, almost pleading for him to come in.

  He picked up her need for him, and nodded.

  “Sure that would be great, thanks,” he agreed, and he stomped his wet boots on the doormat as he came in.

  “Where’s Parker?” she asked as, usually that dog was at his heels.

  “Still asleep, the lazy mutt,” he replied.

  “Too bad for him, he’s going to miss out on breakfast,” she said with a grin.

  Mike followed her into the kitchen. He washed his hands at in the sink.

  She glanced at him as he took off his hard hat, and as he pulled off his sweater, it pulled his t-shirt up a little and she caught a brief glimpse of his tight stomach. She rolled her eyes as her body ached to be closer to him.

  “Can I help?” he asked.

  “Sure, you can do the eggs,” she said, passing him a frying pan. He took it from her, and watched as she walked to the fridge. Today she wore jeans, and they were tight against her body, showing off her perfect hourglass figure. Her t-shirt was low cut and as she bent down to get the eggs from the bottom of the fridge, he caught a glimpse of her breasts, large and firm inside a red, lacy bra.

  He closed his eyes, and with a deep breath, he turned away before she could see the effect she was having on him.

  “Ah, there we are,” she said, grabbing them and the butter from the fridge. She put the eggs on the counter and went back for the bacon and sausages.

  “Do you want grilled tomatoes?” she asked. He looked over his shoulder still not daring to turn around in case she saw, well, you know...

  “Erm, yeah sure, if you have enough,” he said. His eyes spotted an apron; he grabbed it and stuck it on. There, problem solved.

  She turned to walk back to the counter, and stopped as she saw him doing the apron up.

  “Oh, you don’t mind do you, I’m a terribly messy cook,” he said in jest.

  Matilda laughed, and shook her head.

  “No, of course not, would you like a band for your hair?” she teased.

  “Very funny,” he replied, pulling a face at her. Matilda laughed and grabbed another apron from the kitchen drawer.

  He glanced at her as he lifted up the hot plate on the Aga.

  “I messy too!” she quipped.

  “So where are the eggs then?” he asked, looking around.

  “Over there,” she said, pointing.

  “Erm no, no eggs on the worktop,” he replied

  “What?” she responded, and she stared at the worktop. “I could have sworn I put them there. Are you sure you didn’t move them?” she accused.

  “No, I haven’t touched them,” he retorted, and his eyes searched the room before rolling them at her. “Look you put them on the table,” he said, picking them up and bringing them to the Aga.

  “I swear I didn’t,” she muttered. She stood alongside him, and cooked the sausages and bacon and grilled the tomatoes.

  Opening the box of twelve eggs, he threw four eggs into the pan. She boiled the kettle and made two mugs of tea; she put them on the table, keeping one eye on them as she plated the sausages, bacon and grilled tomatoes. Mike added the eggs, and they sat down.

  “Ketchup?” she asked, getting back up and going to the fridge.

  “Yes, please,” he replied.

  She grabbed the bottle from the fridge and sat back down.

  “Oh, this taste fab,” he said, as he tucked in. She smiled at him.

  “Mike, about last night, we agree that we don’t say anything to the police. Right?” she said.

  He looked up from his plate.

  “Well, I’m not really happy about it to be honest, Matilda. What if there’s some bloke wandering around this estate; that tramp for a start, he looked dodgy?”

  “I know he did, but I don’t think so, like I said, I’m sure I just slept walked. Please, Mike, I promise I will make sure I lock all the
doors and move the keys so there is no way I can get out if I sleep walk again.” He gave a reluctant nod.

  “Okay, but if Carlos wakes up and says some nutter attacked him and Sam, we tell them, okay?”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  Pop! Pop! Pop!

  They both turned and looked at the worktop; the eggs were popping in the box and exploding all over the place.

  “Mike!” she gasped and she stood.

  Mike spun out of his chair, and stared at the eggs, but they had stilled.

  “What the hell was that?” he asked, walking to them.

  “Mike, I told you there are ghosts in this Hall,” she said.

  He scratched the back of his head as he poked the eggs with a spatula, but nothing happened.

  “Maybe they just got hot, I did leave them close to the Aga,” he suggested. Matilda shook her head.

  “No, Mike, it’s something else, I’m sure.”

  “Look, do you want me to go home at the weekend and get my equipment. We can set it up over the hall and see what we pick up,” he suggested. She shrugged.

  “I suppose we could,” she replied, cleaning the mess. “Maybe he will tell us what he wants.”

  “He,” Mike repeated, glancing to her as he washed up the breakfast things.

  “Mmm, I think it’s male.”

  “Why?”

  She pulled a face at him, in an attempt to hide her thoughts.

  “Matilda?” he questioned.

  “The voice the other day in the basement it was male,” she replied, still not sure if to tell him about Eric.

  “Oh, yeah forgot about that one,” he said, throwing the tea-towel onto the sink.

  She opened her laptop.

  “Mike, you know I said I was looking into my family tree,” she said, glancing to him. He walked to her and looked.

  “Yes, why, have you found anything juicy?” he asked.

  “Juicy?”

  “Yeah, you know dodgy relatives, or a great aunt running off with her nephew.”

  “No, but I did find something, well, about us.”

  “Us, what do you mean?” he asked, and he leaned a hand on the table as he looked at the screen.