Malevolent Hall 1666AD

by Rosemary Lynch

  “Back in 1666ad, one of my ancestors, who just happens to be called Matilda, was murdered by a man named Eric Tovenaar on my birthday, and he was hung three days later.”

  “No shit?” he said, pulling up a chair and sitting down.

  “No shit, Mike,” she replied, and she pointed.

  “See.”

  “Oh my god,” he said, and he looked at her. “And you think he might be one of my ancestors?”

  She shrugged.

  “I don’t know I need to do some more digging, and follow this Tovenaar line. Your name is unusual though,” she said.

  Mike’s walkie talkie bleeped making them both jump.

  “Sorry,” he muttered pulling it out of his pocket.

  “Steve,” he said.

  “Mike, can you come on site?” Steve asked.

  “Sure, on my way.” He turned to Matilda. “I need to get back to work, can you show me later?” She nodded.

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay in here?” he asked, concerned as he pulled his jumper back on.

  “I’ll be fine. I was going to ask one favour though.”

  “What’s that?” he asked, putting his hard hat on.

  “Can a couple of your guys give me a hand to take out the old furniture in the day room, and take down the curtains?”

  “Sure no problem, in about half an hour?” he suggested.

  “Yes, thanks, Mike,” she said gratefully as she walked him to the front door.

  Mike glanced back to the kitchen.

  “Look, if you are worried or if anything happens just call me okay. I have my phone on me all the time and I can be here in minutes.”

  She lifted a hand to his arm.

  “Thank you, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m just going to clear out the day-lounge.” He gave her a nod and left.

  Matilda searched every corner of the day-lounge every floorboard to see if one was loose, every cupboard, and every inch of the walls looking for a secret place where there could be a hidden book. She found nothing, but by the end of the morning, the day-lounge was almost habitable and she had crossed one more room off her search.

  In the afternoon, she nipped to town to order the new curtains. Just something temporary she could use until they renovated the room properly. She ate lunch out and got back around 3pm.

  Her next room on her hit list was hers and Teddy’s playroom. This she was dreading and she was in half a mind to ask Mike if he could send his workforce back in to clear it all out so she didn’t have to deal with it. Then deciding as hard as it was, it would be the wrong thing to do. She needed to move on and let go of the past, and the only way to do that was to face the past head on. Well maybe later, she just about had enough time to go for a quick run before it got dark. She changed into her navy blue tracksuit and pink Nike trainers and headed out of the back door.

  She jogged towards the woods, jumping now and then over the huge weeds that took over the old footpath. Ahead of her, she saw a man with his head down in a drain.

  She stopped beside him, while continuing to jog on the spot.

  “Hi,” she said. “What are you doing?”

  He lifted his head from the hole startled.

  “Oh, hi, Miss,” he replied, pushing his glasses back up his nose with his forearm as he was wearing gloves. “I’m just checking the cesspit, there seems to be a blockage from somewhere in the pipe.”

  “That’s a nasty job,” she said, scrunching her nose up at the stench wafting up from below.

  “Yeah, I’ve had better,” he replied with a smile.

  She gave a chuckle and with a smile, she carried on with her run.

  He watched her as she ran; she had her hair fixed in a ponytail, and it swished back and forth as she jogged. He stared at her tight, firm butt. She was hot! Rich and fucking hot what a delightful combination. As she disappeared from his vision, he turned his attention back to the drain. He gave a frown.

  “Now what the fuck is that?” he muttered spotting something looking like silver poking out of the sewerage.

  Reaching down, he tugged at it and as it gave away a little, he saw it was a silver candlestick. His eyes widened, and he glanced back up to make sure Miss Rhiamon was not around to see him.

  “You beauty,” he mumbled, “come to papa.” He tugged harder, but the damn thing refused to budge, so he lay on his belly leaning right into the hole so he could get a better grip.

  “Come on you bastard,” he cursed. “What the …,” he yelled as something suddenly pulled back. He tugged harder.

  He had no time to omit a scream as he whatever held the other end, yanked him down and in seconds he disappeared underneath the stinking shit.

  ***

  As Matilda ran, her nose filled with the scent of autumn, of damp leaves and fresh rainwater, which had drenched the already sodden earth beneath her feet.

  “Why do you run?” he asked, appearing beside her. Matilda stumbled and almost fell over in surprise.

  “Oh my God, Eric, you scared the crap out of me!” she admonished, throwing her hand to her chest as her heart pounded from the shock.

  “I am sorry,” he apologised. “But why do you run; I have checked and no one pursues you.”

  “I’m not running from anyone, Eric, I run to keep myself fit,” she explained. “Run with me?” she asked, with a smile.

  “If that is your wish,” he replied, and he jogged alongside her. “Tilly, what happened to you last night was not a dream,” he said. She stopped in her tracks, braced her hands against her knees to catch her breath, and frowned at him.

  “How do you know what happened last night?” she asked.

  “I am aware of everything,” he replied. Matilda glanced to a fallen log and she walked to it and although a little damp, she sat on it. Eric sat beside her.

  “It was real,” she said, looking at him.

  “Yes, he sent her to capture and hold you until he arrives”

  Matilda glanced at him.

  “He is definitely coming for me then?” she asked. Eric nodded.

  “Oh yes.”

  She gave a deep sigh.

  “I think you should trust Mike, and tell him what is going on. He will be able to help you locate the book.”

  She glanced at him, and his deep, dark eyes drew her in.

  “I don’t want to scare him off. How do I know he won’t just think I’m crazy and leave me?” she asked.

  Eric placed his arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him.

  “Because I know he will not, and you will need him to help you fight against him.”

  “Richard,” she said. He gave her a nod.

  “Eric, do you know anything about the man that has gone missing, Sam,” she asked. The police turned up first thing that morning, but she was unable to help with their enquiries. After a sweep of the area where Sam had last worked, and of the surrounding woodland they left.

  “I am afraid he is dead,” Eric informed her.

  “What?” she gasped.

  “The demon who sought to take you last night, killed him. She took his body back to Richard.”

  “But why?” she asked.

  “I will imagine it has something to do with dark magic, a ritual that Richard will need to perform in order for him to get here.”

  “Oh God, that’s awful. Do you think I should send them all away? Will he take any more people?” she asked concerned.

  “It is possible. Demons reside on the earth in everyday life. You may walk past one and never know. Thousands of people go missing every year, many of them taken by demons. They use them as a sacrifice to Lucifer in order for him to allow them to live in this realm, as opposed to reeling in endless agony in the underworld.” For a moment, she sat speechless.

  “These things are actually real, the devil, the underworld?” she finally asked.

  “Yes they are.”

  “Why does he want me?” she asked. He shook his head.

  “You cannot say,” she rep
lied, and he gave a nod. She gave a shudder as the sun dropped low in the trees.

  “It will be dark soon; I had best head back,” she said, and she rose to her feet.

  He turned her to face him.

  “You must be on your guard. A demon could be anyone, anything, even among those men who rebuild the hall. I will protect you as much as I can, but only you can kill him. Remember trust no one.”

  Kill him, how can she kill another person.

  “He will not hesitate in taking you and your powers Matilda,” Eric said as if reading her thoughts.

  “I know I have to – kill him, it’s just – well, I’m scared, Eric. I wasn’t born a murderer you know.”

  “I know,” he said, pulling her to him. As he kissed her, she closed her eyes. In the next moment, she stood alone and a coldness past right through her. She gave a shudder, turned around, and headed back home.

  She had almost reached the back garden when movement caught her eyes. She ducked behind an oak and peered around.

  “Oh my, God,” she muttered, it was the weird old man and he was staring towards the Hall. As a couple of workmen walked across what was once a lawn, the man turned and scurried into the trees.

  Matilda followed wanting to know whom he was, and where he was living. She followed him deeper into the wood, all the time thinking in the back of her mind that she should turn back.

  “Damn,” she mumbled losing sight of him, but to her right she spotted a wooden shack. She moved towards it cautiously glancing around for the man. The shack had a door and two windows, and she peered through one, but it was dark inside.

  “Shit,” she mumbled. Drawing her lower lip through her teeth, her hand reached for the door and she pushed it open. She glanced around her surroundings one more time before stepping inside.

  Matilda wandered around the small hut, her nose twitching at the stench of old unwashed masculinity and her heart thumping in her chest. There was a bed, a table and a chair and at the back of the shack was an old camping stove.

  Spotting something familiar, she walked straight to it, and picked up the frame.

  “What the hell,” she mumbled staring at the missing photograph of her aunt and uncle at their wedding.

  Whoever this person was he had been stealing from the Hall. She put it down when she heard a noise behind her she spun around and he stood there, his dark shadow blocking out the dwindling daylight.

  “Who are you!” she yelled, both in anger and in fear.

  “You shouldn’t be in that Hall, you should leave,” he growled.

  “Me! You’re the one who should leave, what are you doing on my property?”

  The man remained silent.

  “Did you steal this from the Hall?” she yelled, grabbing the photograph.

  “Don’t touch that!” he hollered and he flew at her. Matilda screamed as he grabbed her.

  “Let me go!” she squealed, pulling her arm away from his grasping hands. He swiped the photograph from her and pushed her away. She fell backwards and landed on the bed, which groaned in complaint. The man pulled the photograph to his chest and hugged it.

  Matilda stared at him; his face was terribly scared from burns. She glanced to the door she needed to run, as this man was crazy.

  “Where did you get that necklace,” he growled pointing to her chest. Matilda’s hand lifted to her mother’s pentagram, which had slipped out from underneath her jogging top.

  “It was my mother’s,” she said in a whisper, gripping it in her hand.

  The man’s mouth moved as if he was going to speak.

  “What?” she pushed, as whatever he wanted to say, he was having difficulty getting out.

  “Tilly,” he finally said.

  Matilda’s gaze lifted to his eyes, and for a moment, they stared at each other. Despite the sadness in them, his eyes suddenly became familiar to her.

  “Uncle Joe?” she said hesitantly. She saw tears stinging his eyes and as he blinked, they ran down his scared face.

  “Tilly?” he said again, not believing his own words.

  Matilda sucked in her breath and pulling on her courage, she stood.

  “I’m Matilda Alice Rhiamon,” she said. The man shook his head.

  “No, you died in the fire,” he muttered.

  “No, I didn’t,” she replied. “It didn’t get me I was saved by a – a ghost,” she said, for want of a better explanation.

  He shook his head, and then looked at the photograph.

  “That’s Aunt May,” she said, and she sniffed back her tears. “You’re my Uncle Joe, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “Tilly,” he said again, looking back at her. She smiled at him.

  “You shouldn’t have come back,” he said, shaking his head. “They’re still here, in the house, in the wood.” He turned abruptly to her. “You must go, now.”

  She shook her head.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Uncle Joe. This is my home and I want it back.”

  He put the photograph down and stepped towards her. As he drew closer, she could see the extent of his injuries and they were horrific. Scaring covered the entire left side of his face, and across his throat, he bore thick, white scar.

  “I thought you were dead,” she said.

  “I am,” he replied. “When that thing killed my wife, it killed me too. I awoke to find the Hall blazing, and I was on fire,” he said, raising his hand to his face.

  “Why didn’t you get help, why didn’t you go to the hospital? I thought everyone was dead!” Matilda wept.

  He stared at his niece, shaking his head at her.

  “I ran, Tilly, into the wood, and found this old woodcutters shack.” He looked away from her. “I can’t face the outside world. Not without my May.”

  “I can’t believe you’re here, I – I thought I was all alone,” Matilda said, taking a step towards him. He took a step back and she stopped.

  “Will you come with me, back to the Hall?” she asked. He shook his head.

  “No, I will never step foot in the place, and neither should you. You should go back to wherever you were these last years. It’s not safe, the demons are still here, and the ghosts are everywhere,” he said. Unexpectedly lurching forward, he grabbed her by the shoulders. Matilda froze as staring up at him.

  “You must leave, or they will kill you, there is nothing I can do to protect you,” he warned. She shook her head.

  “I won’t go, not till I have killed it.”

  “You think you can kill them?” he said cynically.

  “Yes, and I will.” She shook him off her.

  “Matilda, Tilly, please don’t. I have seen them, the ghosts, demons whatever you want to call them. I’ve seen them move around in the Hall, and all over these woods.”

  “So, how have you survived then?” she asked.

  “I know how to protect myself, your aunt was a witch, and she taught me a few things before – before she was murdered.”

  “I have powers too,” she blurted. He nodded his head.

  “I know, but without the book you are helpless.”

  “How do you know about the book?” she asked.

  “You are a witch, all witches have books,” he replied. Something in his eyes made her suspicious.

  “So I am a witch?” she asked.

  “Yes, you are from a very long line of witches, born to Malevolent Hall for over six hundred years.”

  Matilda held onto her emotions when all she really wanted to do was bawl like a baby.

  “Then there is even more reason for me to fight this demon. This is my home, and the home of my children, should I ever have any. Why didn’t you tell anyone you were alive, I could have come and lived with you?” she said, “instead of spending my life in and out of foster homes.”

  He perched on the edge of the table.

  “I told you I am dead, Tilly. After what happened to your parents, to you, Teddy and May, I couldn’t face the outside world.”

  “Your face, those b
urns, you must have been in so much pain,” she sympathised. He shook his head.

  “No, after seeing what that – that thing did to your aunt I was numb to the pain. In fact after I found this place I laid on that very bed for days praying I would die.”

  “How have you survived out here for so long?” she asked.

  “I don’t need much. I hunt in the wood, and I,” he stopped for a moment. “I took a few things from the Hall now and then and sold them for cash to buy essential supplies.” He shrugged. “It’s quite easy in this day and age to remain invisible, especially when you look like this.” He lifted his hand to his face.

  She jumped from her chair and hugged him. Her uncle froze, as he had no physical contact with anyone for eleven years and he found himself hugging her back.

  For the next hour, they talked. Matilda told him all about the last eleven years of her life, and what she was planning to do with the Hall.

  “Uncle, will you promise me one thing?” she asked, as he walked her back towards the Hall.

  “What’s that, Matilda?” he asked.

  “When I kill this demon, and reclaim my home will you come back and live in the Hall?” He stared at her as he thought.

  “You cannot kill it without the book, where is it?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, but I will find it and I will kill him. I will have to tell Mike about you,” she said.

  “The man who chased me?” he asked.

  “Yes, otherwise he will keep looking for you, and he may call the police. You can trust him, I promise,” she assured.

  “Okay, Matilda,” he agreed, and he hugged her one more time as they stood at the edge of the wood.

  “I’ll come and see you tomorrow,” she promised.

  “I’d like that,” he agreed.

  As she walked across the lawn she turned to wave goodbye, but he was already gone.

  As Matilda arrived back to the Hall, the men were packing up for the day, it was Friday, and they were going home for the weekend. Steve was staring up at the roof, and she followed his line of sight as she drew beside him.

  “What’s he doing up there in the dark?” she asked sternly watching as Mike teetered on the edge of the roof. The moon was almost full and it lit up the apex of the roof.