Malevolent Hall 1666AD

by Rosemary Lynch

  “He’s trying to fix your aerial,” he replied, not taking his eyes of Mike.

  “What, does he have a safety harness on?” she questioned, glancing at him.

  “Nope,” he replied.

  “Why ever not,” she demanded, looking back up at Mike.

  “Because he’s an idiot,” Steve replied with a huff.

  As Matilda watched him adjusting the aerial, her heart was in her throat.

  “How about now,” he yelled.

  “Who is he talking too?” she asked Steve.

  “Mark, he is in the kitchen making sure the TV works.”

  “Okay,” Mike yelled back to Mark’s reply and giving him ‘a thumbs’ up.

  “Mike, no!” she screamed, as she saw something black scurry across the top of the roof towards him.

  “What?” Steve yelled, as her sudden and unexpected shouting made him jump. Matilda took a step forward in panic.

  “There’s something up there with him, can’t you see it!” she cried, watching as the creature moved ever nearer to him. Steve stared at the roof and shook his head.

  “No,” he replied, and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

  “Mike!” Matilda screamed.

  “What?” he yelled to her. She pointed along the rooftop even though she knew it was pointless, as he was no more able to see the demon than Steve could.

  “Mike!” she cried, running to the side of the Hall. There had to be something she could do.

  Matilda watched the demon as it hid behind the chimney pot, her eyes turned to Mike, and she frowned. Could Mike see it, as he was backing up and look of fear covered his face?

  “Mike, do you see it?” she screamed. Could she hit it from here? What if she missed and hit Mike by accident.

  “Eric,” she muttered. The glowing man was coming up behind the unsuspecting demon and she literarily held her breath.

  “He is the glowing man,” she muttered in astonishment. The demon turned, looked at Eric, and back at Mike, and before Matilda could breathe again, it pushed off with its hind legs and flew towards Mike. She screamed as it hit Mike and he tumbled backwards. Lifting her hands, she used her power to slow his decent just enough for him to grab at the guttering and hang onto it precariously.

  “Mike, oh God,” Matilda cried. She should have sent him away she should have sent them all away. Every man here was in danger because of her. These demons were real, and they were a threat to everyone.

  Eric pounced on the demon, his hands gripping hold of the creature’s head he wrestled against it. A terrible wailing sound came from the demon as Eric’s white magic burned it. She looked at Steve, who was scrambling with a ladder to get to Mike. The line of vision to the demon obscured by the eaves, she was certain Steve had no idea of what was really going on.

  Eric twisted the demons neck, breaking it. It exploded and particles of ash fluttered away in the breeze. Eric looked down at her for a moment and then vanished. As she saw Mike easing himself down the side of the building towards Steve’s ladder, she finally took a breath. Her heart restarted and she ran to him.

  Matilda stood beside Steve anxiously watching as Mike descended the ladder, and as his last foot touched the ground she threw herself at him.

  “Oh, Mike, you scared me to death,” she said.

  “Hey, I’m okay, I slipped,” he said, nonchalant, drawing an arm around her and hugging her.

  “Yeah, well maybe next time you will obey the health and safety rules and wear a bloody harness,” Steve, admonished with a grim shake of his head.

  “Yes, I will, sorry, Steve,” he apologised. Steve shook his head and muttered something under his breath about him being an idiot, before marching away with his ladder.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, still clinging to him.

  “Yeah, it’s my own stupid fault,” he said, with what seemed to her to be a nervous laugh. “Anyway we’re calling it a day, we’ve boarded up the front of the west wing, as they are forecasting a big storm over the weekend, and we want to keep it dry inside. Some of the lads are going into town to grab a bite before they head home for the weekend, would you like to come?” he asked.

  “Oh, erm, no thank you, I have a few things I need to do, but thanks for asking,” she replied, not wanting to have dinner with a bunch of strange men.

  His face saddened at her reaction, and Matilda caught the disappointment in his eyes.

  “Maybe another time,” she said.

  “Sure,” he replied, and he turned to leave.

  “Or you could come in, for dinner, if you’re not in a rush to get home?” she suggested. He grinned at her.

  “No, no rush. That would be lovely, thanks,” he replied, and the light in his eyes returned.

  “Six o’clock?” Matilda suggested. He gave a nod.

  “Six o’clock,” he confirmed.

  She left him where he stood and went back into the Hall, just as the rain began to fall.

  Matilda stuck the kettle on, and made herself a mug of tea, still pondering whether she should tell Mike about the demon that tried to kill him and the glowing man. As she listened to herself, she laughed aloud at the absurdity of it all. If someone told her a demon tried to kill her, she would have thought he or she were mad. She was just going to have to prove to him that there were ghosts, and the best way to do that, would be for him to bring his ghost hunting equipment to the Hall. She had no doubt that they would catch something in fact she was certain of it. Then when she tells Mike what has been going on in the Hall, he would have no choice but to believe her.

  She rummaged through her larder to see what she could throw together for dinner. She made a lasagne, having brought the ingredients with the intention of making one big one and eating all week. She threw together a green salad, and made some garlic bread.

  With dinner prepared, Matilda went to the cupboard and rummaged inside, she pulled out a rolling pin. It was dirty so she put it on the side to wash up later. She reached back inside and took out her mother’s mixing bowl. She washed it, and as she placed it on the kitchen table, she remembered the fun times she had making cakes with her, and she was glad she could still recall them. She cleaned her weighing scales and measured out the ingredients. Matilda mixed the sugar and butter, added the flour, baking powder, cocoa powder, and eggs, and poured the mix into two tins.

  After she cleaned up, and laid the table ready she had about half an hour before he was due. She shot upstairs, and had a quick shower. She applied a little make-up, some mascara, blush, and a lip-gloss and did her hair. Back in the tower, she raked through her clothes and pulled out a black dress, as tonight she wanted to impress. After spraying herself with perfume, she went back downstairs and checked the time. He was due any minute. She put the cake tins in the Aga and set the timer on her watch.

  Thunder rumbled outside and every now and then, a flash of lightning lit the darkness. She looked at the chest as it sat in the middle of the kitchen floor. She walked to it, unlocked it again, flung the lid back, and began to rummage inside. Matilda took out another three dresses, two pairs of shoes, a lovely brooch, a…. she stopped and turned around. What was that noise? She jumped to her feet, and walked towards the kitchen door. Her eyes lifted to the staircase, and she could hear footsteps running around upstairs. She swallowed, and her hands fisted beside her.

  “Hello is there anyone up there. Work has finished for today,” she yelled, not that there should have been any men working on this side yet. Not getting a reply, she turned to go back into the kitchen.

  Thump.

  Thump.

  Thump.

  Thump!

  Matilda spun around her eyes catching the red ball as it hit the last stair, bounced on the parquet floor and rolled along the hall straight towards her. It was her brother’s ball; the one they were playing with the day he died - it should have burned in the fire.

  “T – Teddy,” she mumbled, “is that you?” The ball stopped at her feet and spun in circles. A lit
tle boy laughed, but it was not sweet, it was not how she remembered her brother, it was fucking scary.

  “Teddy,” she mumbled. “I wanted to help you, really I did, I’m so sorry, but I was scared.” Matilda backed against the wall, as the ball began to bounce faster and faster in the same spot in front of her.

  Bang, bang. She screamed, and looked at the front door as the handle rattled. “Go away!” she yelled, and she backed even tighter against the hall wall. “Fucking, go away please,” she cried. She must have been mad if she thought she could do this all by herself. These demons, these creatures were too strong for her. She knew it and so did they.

  “Matilda, are you okay!” Mike yelled through the letterbox, still shaking the door trying to open it. She took a breath, and looked down at the ball. It had stopped bouncing. She lifted her dress, stepped over it, and hurried to the front door. Matilda unlocked it and Mike looked at her.

  “Are you okay, did you just scream?” he asked her. “What’s wrong you look like you have seen a ghost?” She laughed nervously, quickly wiping her eyes with her sleeve as she opened the door wider.

  “Yeah, well you could say that.” She pointed to the ball that was no longer in the hallway. “What, the f..” She stopped herself from swearing. Where did the ball go?

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing - it’s nothing, it was a mouse. It scared the crap out of me, but it scurried away somewhere,” Matilda lied. As she walked along the hall, she glanced up the stairs, and her heart shook. Surely her baby brother hadn’t come back to haunt her? Mike followed her into the kitchen, Parker as always at his heels.

  “Here,” he said, offering her a bunch of red roses. Her face lit up.

  “Oh, thank you. Where did you get these?” she asked, inhaling them as he took off his jacket. Mike had changed into jeans and a white shirt, he had shaved, and the scent of his aftershave made her shudder.

  “I nipped into town quick,” he replied. “Mmm something smells good,” he remarked, lifting his nose in the air and inhaling as he put his jacket on the back of a chair.

  “What?” Matilda asked, blinking and looking at him.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. She nodded, glancing over his shoulder and into the hallway.

  “Yes,” she said, and she smiled at him. “I hope you like lasagne.”

  “Actually it’s one of my favourite meals,” he replied and he couldn’t help but stare at her as she looked absolutely stunning in that dress. She shook her long, dark hair behind her bare shoulders, and he swallowed. She had beautiful sensual shoulders, and he wanted to kiss them, he wanted to kiss her. His eyes moved down her body; she was curvy and toned and his need for her was becoming painful. He wanted to touch her, to love her, to feel her body entwined with his.

  She took a vase out of the bottom cupboard, filled it with water, and popped in the flowers. She inhaled them again and smiled, before placing them on the table.

  “Wine?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him.

  “Yes, please,” he replied, and his eyes lifted back to her face.

  She took two glasses out of the cupboard, and opened the bottle. She poured them both a glass, and before she gave him his, she took a big gulp of hers and topped it up again.

  “There you go,” she said, giving him a glass.

  “Thank you,” he replied, and his fingers brushed against hers as he took it.

  Matilda lifted her eyes to his and Mike’s deep, dark eyes gazed back at her, sending her body into a quiver. Her urge to be with him was becoming more and more difficult to control and to be honest she didn’t want to control it any longer. After all, they were both adults, and neither of them was in a relationship with anyone else.

  “It’s ready, if you want to eat now,” she said, and she hastily moved back to the worktop and picked up her oven gloves.

  “Yes please, I’m starved,” he replied, and he sat at the table, his eyes never leaving her.

  Matilda dished up their meal, cut the garlic bread, and put it in the middle of the table with the salad.

  “There you go,” she said, putting the plate in front of him.

  “Thank you, it looks fab,” he said, picking up his knife and fork. She sat opposite him, and watched as he cut into the lasagne.

  “It’s hot,” she warned too late, and laughed, as he fanned his mouth, and then gulped down some wine.

  “Yeah, thanks for the warning,” he said, with a grin, and a quick wipe to his mouth with the back of his hand. Matilda’s watch started to bleep.

  “What’s that for?” he asked. “Have you got to be somewhere?” he said jokily.

  “No, my cake’s done,” she said. “Excuse me.” She rose from the table and grabbed her oven gloves. She opened the Aga door, and took out the two tins.

  “That smells good,” he remarked.

  “Thanks it’s chocolate cake, for my birthday tomorrow,” she said, and leaving it to cool on the side, she sat back at the table.

  “Your birthday, I didn’t realise your birthday was on Halloween,” he said with a grin.

  Matilda gave a sigh. “I always bake a chocolate cake for my birthday it’s what my mum used to do. Unfortunately it’s not just my birthday it’s also the anniversary of the day they all died.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mike, said, lowering his fork from his mouth.

  “I can’t quite believe it’s been eleven years tomorrow,” she told him. “It doesn’t get any easier,” she added.

  “No, it doesn’t,” he agreed, with sadness in his voice.

  “Oh, Mike, I’m sorry that was thoughtless of me,” Matilda said, remembering he had lost both his parents recently.

  “It’s okay, we deal with it right,” he said, his voice softening. She nodded, and as she glanced at him, his dark brown eyes warmed, and she felt a flutter in her heart.

  “I haven’t had a chance to tell you who I met today while out on my jog in the wood,” she said, breaking their gaze and looking at her glass of wine.

  “Who?” he asked putting a fork full of food into his mouth.

  “That man, you know the one you chased away.” Mike put his fork down.

  “You confronted him on your own?” he said, his voice stern with concern.

  “Yes. Well, I followed him. Mike it’s my Uncle Tom, I thought he died in the fire but it turns out he didn’t and he’s been living out in the wood for the last eleven years.”

  “What are you serious?” he asked. She nodded.

  “I’ve never been more serious in my life. He’s badly scarred across his face from where he burned in the fire.”

  “Why on earth is he living out in your wood?”

  Matilda gave a heavy sigh. “He had a mental breakdown over the loss of my aunt, and the rest of us. He couldn’t face seeing anyone or talking to anyone about it.”

  “Is he okay, I mean, he didn’t scare you or anything?”

  “A little at first, until I realised who he was,” she replied.

  “And you are definitely sure it is him?”

  “Yes, Mike I am.”

  “How do you feel about it?” Mike asked, tearing a piece of garlic bread in half and mopping up the lasagne sauce from his plate.

  Matilda put her fork down.

  “I’m not sure really. Obviously, I am glad he is still alive and I really hope I can persuade him to move back in the Hall with me. But I think he’s even more screwed up than I am.”

  A cold chill blew through her, and she looked away from him, and glanced around the kitchen.

  “Did you feel that?” she asked.

  “Feel what?” he replied.

  “That cold chill,” she said. He shook his head. Matilda gave a shudder, and put a forkful of Lasagne into her mouth. Her fork rested on her lower lip as she watched her broom leaning up against the wall behind Mike lift up off the ground. She looked at Mike, he was chatting away to her, but she was not hearing what he was saying. Matilda was unsure what to do, should she
warn him or could she stop it. She swept her hand across the table and knocked the salt pot onto the floor.

  “Sorry,” she apologised.

  “I’ll get it,” he said, bending down to pick it up. As the broom careered towards him, Matilda lifted her hand.

  “Belcara,” she chanted, directing her magic towards the broom. It stopped mid-air and dropped to the floor with a bang. Mike sat up startled.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “Erm, the broom, it fell over,” she said. He glanced over his shoulder at the broom and frowned.

  “Weird,” he remarked.

  “Very,” she replied, and she tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. They were getting more brazen with every hour and she had still not found this book, or any more information on the enchantment.

  Matilda played with the locket around her throat, toying with what Eric had said about her trusting Mike and telling him everything.

  “Haven’t you got it open yet?” he asked. She glanced up and shook her head.

  “No, it won’t budge.”

  “Can I take a look?” he asked, sitting with a slight lean towards her.

  “Okay, but I don’t think you will be able too,” she said as she took it off and gave it to him. If she was unable to open the locket using her magic, what chance did he have?

  As Mike ran a finger over the locket, she noticed a strange shimmer coming from his finger and illuminating the locket for a hundredth of a second. He turned it over in his hand and read the inscription.

  “Romantic isn’t it,” Matilda said, with a smile.

  As he looked at her, a frown deepened across his brow.

  “What, what is it?” she asked, as his facial expression had turned grim.

  “I don’t fucking believe it,” he cursed, and he put the locket on the table.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, reaching for the locket. She found it was slightly open, and opening it fully, she looked inside. Her mouth dropped aghast, as there was a miniature painting of a woman, who looked similar to her, and one of a man. Lifting the image closer to her eyes, she squinted at him. She dropped the necklace on the table in surprise.

  Chapter Fourteen