Haunted

by Tamara Thorne

  "What a lovely story," Theo said, her eyes glistening. "But how do you know it wasn't your grandmother's spirit?"

  Give me a break. "That notion would make a nice story, but I'm afraid it simply doesn't work that way in real life."

  "Unless your grandma happens to be a genie in a bottle," Amber threw in.

  "Amber," he cautioned. The spiritualist viewpoint Theo held frustrated David, not only because be found it simplistic and superstitious, but because it caused many scientists to shun paranormal research. He decided that Theo, obviously an intelligent woman, was merely parroting what she had heard: she was another victim of pop parapsychology. "Perhaps I can explain a little better over dinner some time," he heard himself say.

  "Why, that would be lovely, David."

  Carefully, he avoided looking at his daughter. She'd probably rolled her eyes so far back in her head that only the whites showed. "Shall we?" Realizing he was exhausted, not to mention starving, he wanted to wrap up the tour as quickly as possible.

  "This way," Theo said, leading them past the stairs to the other side of the house. At the cross corridor, she gestured to the right. "Several of the rooms have the original bedframes and we've replaced their box springs and mattresses, as you requested." Theo stopped at a door on the left side. "I asked Mrs. Willard to make up the beds in the two biggest rooms--this one and that one, two doors down." Smiling, Theo put her hand on the door latch then pulled her hand back, embarrassed. "These latches are still a shock."

  "Gross!" Amber cried, catching sight of the tumescent brass entry latch. "If you think I'm going to-"

  "No problem, Amber," David told her. Downstairs, the doors had traditional cut glass knobs, but up here, in the "business portions" of the house, most of the rooms, once used by Lizzie's ladies to conduct their business, had penile handles. "We'll change the latch on your room tomorrow."

  "Why isn't it changed already?" she demanded, staring at Theo.

  "It's my fault," David admitted, slightly embarrassed. "I told the agency to keep everything just the way it was. I'm sorry, kiddo, I should have had those changed. We'll take care of them right away." He'd go to the hardware store himself, he decided, and get enough knobs to change them all. Though they were valuable and fascinating pieces of history, he couldn't see himself grabbing one of these things every time he went in or out of a second floor room.

  Opening the door and turning on the light, Theo stood back so he could see the room. "This room, as well as Amber's, still contained some of the original furniture. We found a few more items to completely furnish them."

  "Looks great," David said as he entered. Like the rest of the house, it was painted eggshell white--perhaps he would restore a few of the rooms to their original colors later, but the house was typical of the Victorian era and, therefore, dark and shadowy. It needed all the white paint it could get.

  A dark cherry four-poster bed dominated the room, a navy spread covering it. A large chest rested at its foot. Across the rectangular room, a freestanding wardrobe waited, with an arch of stained glass that sported a daisy chain of subtly human forms resembling those in the dining room. Built-in bookshelves lined the short wall across from the bed, and a chiffonier and secretary were on the north wall. David crossed to the tall, narrow window near the bed. The top arch was stained glass, but refreshingly ordinary, containing conch shells and sea horses. The view was wonderful. From here, he could see the lighthouse and the cliffs. The beacon embedded in the cliffs beyond the conical structure cast intermittent light against the foggy mist, eerily illuminating the derelict structure at ten-second intervals. "I love it," he said. He'd put a small desk under the window so that he could work on his laptop at night with the most inspirational view he'd ever seen. "I absolutely love it."

  "Let's see my room." Amber stood in the doorway, tapping her foot impatiently.

  A moment later they stood in an identical room with similar furnishings, though there was a blessed lack of stained glass insets on the furniture. Central to the room was a sleigh bed with a sunny yellow spread. The window was identical also. Amber sat on the bed, bouncing to test the springs, a small smile of approval on her face.

  "There's a large bathroom just across the hall from these rooms," Theo said. "Altogether, there are eight rooms plus the bath in this wing. The other wing is identical except there are almost twice as many rooms. Except for one big bedroom like these two, they've all been divided into very small rooms. Except for the bath, of course."

  "Lizzie must have added the walls as her business grew," David said.

  "You might want to remove some of the divisions later on."

  "We'll see," David said. "I certainly don't need the space."

  "Dad, could I move over to the big room in the other wing so I can have a bathroom to myself?" Amber asked from the bed.

  Theo raised her eyebrows and David grinned. "I told you she's not afraid of ghosts!" He turned to Amber. "Sure, in a few days. Let's get a feel for what we've got here first."

  "Okay." Rising, Amber crossed to the wardrobe, opened it, and began examining the drawers and closet space.

  "Do you want to see the rest of this floor?" Theo asked.

  "No, that's okay. We'll find our way around in the morning. Let's just take a quick peek at the tower and the third floor."

  "Okay."

  "I'm going to stay here, Dad," Amber said.

  "I'll be back," David told her, and followed Theo from the room.

  "This way," she said, leading him on past Amber's room to the end of the hall. Left of a window that aimed toward town, the wall rounded outward, destroying the squareness of the hall. A heavy arched door was set into the center of the round. Unlike nearly everything else in the house, the door to the tower was unornamented. Theo thumbed the simple brass latch and the door glided open, revealing utter darkness.

  "The switch is here," she said, reaching inside. She flicked it once, twice, then looked at him. "I'm sorry, they must have forgotten to put lights in here. I'll make a note to tell them to take care of it tomorrow." She pulled the door closed. "Heavens, it's cold in there."

  "May I?” Curious, David stepped in front of Theo and reopened the door, just sticking his head inside to get the feel of the air within. Theo was right, it was cold, but he knew that the tower walls were unplastered stone, so that was to be expected. Reputedly, the third floor tower room was the place where the daughter of the original builder, Byron Baudey, had strangled her baby then hanged herself, having gone mad from the rape that produced the child. It was supposed to be one of the most haunted places in the house, and David found it particularly interesting because it was a precursor to the scandals that changed Baudey House into the infamous Body House. It was a precedent that he hoped to research eventually.

  Taking one step into the darkness, David did not hear the cries of a phantom infant, see the doomed mother climbing the steps or even sense any of the slimy-feeling psychic cold that usually accompanied major phenomena. Another night. Slightly disappointed, he reminded himself that the third floor, not the second, would be the heart of the manifestation. Besides, what he'd told Amber was true: first nights in haunted houses usually gave you nothing but a good night's sleep. He stepped out and pulled the door shut. The latch plate had not one but two skeleton-style keyholes in it and he could see old scratch marks on the newly polished brass.

  "Someone wanted to keep this door locked," he said to Theo.

  She nodded. "The doors on all three floors are just like that. As a matter of fact," she added, digging in her purse. "I have the keys for you." A second later, she pulled forth a pair of big old-fashioned keys, ringed and tagged. "Want to try them?"

  "Sure." He inserted a key in the lock and found that it turned easily. "Works great." After an instant's hesitation, he withdrew the key without unlocking the door. His own caution amused him as he turned to Theo. "Shall we go upstairs?"

  "Right this way." They turned right, pausing to admire the stained glass art
on the French doors that opened on either side of the hall. The six right-hand doors opened onto a tall-ceilinged ballroom, its parquet floor gleaming warm gold. On the left, a half-dozen doors opened onto the wide veranda above the front porch. Small brass swing bolts kept them shut.

  David unlocked one door and they walked outside. Three sides of the fifteen-foot-wide veranda were snug against the walls of the house. David would have liked to examine the stone walls and exteriors of the windows, but it was too dark. Instead, he walked to the railing, turned and leaned against it to peer up at the dark third floor. He thought the ribbon of windows on the tower above resembled blind eyes.

  "It's cool out tonight, isn't it?" Theo said, joining him at the railing.

  "Yes. And not a hint of jasmine out here." Something pale flickered behind a dormer window just above them. "Did you see that?" he asked, his heart racing.

  "See what?" She moved closer to him. He pointed at a window to their left. "I thought I saw something move up there." He chuckled softly, still watching, but already calm. "It was probably a wisp of fog. I guess I just have ghostbuster's fever." He stepped away from the railing, but Theo stayed behind, still watching the dormer.

  "Do you see something?" he asked.

  "I-I thought I did." Suddenly, there was a creaking sound and Theo stumbled backward. "David!"

  He jumped forward, grabbing her hands and pulling her toward him as the iron railing gave way. Instantly, her arms were around him and she clung to him, her breathing rapid. He held her, first looking at the crazy angle of the loose railing, then glancing briefly back at the dormer. As he held her, he noticed that he couldn't smell any jasmine on her skin or hair.

  "Are you all right now?" he asked.

  She nodded, letting go of him. "Just a little shaky. Let's go in."

  "Of course."

  Inside, as she threw the bolt, she stared back at the railing, brow furrowed. "The workmen removed the rust and repainted that railing. I can't believe they'd forget to tighten everything down. I'll have a word with Mr. Willard tomorrow."

  "These things happen," David said as they continued down the hall and entered the other wing. "It's an old house. More than likely, it's no one's fault, just a weak spot that they missed."

  "I'll ask him to check the entire terrace, no matter whose fault it is." Theo flicked on the lights and they mounted the stairs to the top floor.

  At the top of the steps, David was glad to see that the third floor wood and glasswork had been as carefully restored as the rest of the house, but, despite the light walls and ceilings, he still felt as claustrophobic up here as he had the first time he'd seen it. The ceilings were lower and the sloped dormer rooms had seemed cramped and tiny.

  "The ballroom ceiling extends into this floor through the center of the house, but there's an unfinished attic to the rear that may contain more furniture. We didn't explore it," Theo said. "There's no electricity."

  "I'll check it out soon, but right now, I want to go in here a moment," he said as they approached the room that overlooked the terrace, where he thought he'd seen something move.

  Theo gave him a tiny, close-lipped smile and nodded. Obviously she was still shaken, and the high color in her cheeks and sparkle in her eyes made her very beautiful.

  "You're sure you're all right?" he asked, his hand on a phallic door latch.

  "Fine." More of her thick dark hair had escaped its bindings and she pushed it away unconsciously. "Ghost hunters first," she told him.

  The door creaked open and, as he fished for the light switch just inside, he felt an unnatural coldness kiss the back of his hand. He paused, his hand on the switch, fascinated by the sensation as the cold areas wavered around his fingers. Like other cold spots he'd experienced, it reminded him of a kid's toy, a cool, oozing gel called Slime, with a weak electric current added to it. He almost told Theo, but decided to see if she sensed it for herself. He flicked the switch and walked in. She followed and the door closed softly behind them. Mr. Willard, or Eric, or whoever had worked on this room, hadn't done their usual faultless job. Tarps still lay on the floor and, though the walls had been washed, only the ceiling and one wall had been painted. A stepladder lay on its side and, near it, a can of paint had spilled all over one of the tarps. David bent and righted the can. The paint inside was dry.

  "Oh, my," Theo said. "I thought they were all done. I'm so sorry."

  He picked up the paint-saturated tarp that the can had laid on and Theo groaned as they saw that some of the paint had spilled onto the wood floor. "I'm so sorry," she said again.

  "The floor's already sealed, so there's no permanent damage done. With a little caution, the paint can be removed without harming the finish," David observed.

  "Well, the agency will make sure you're not charged for any repairs--" Suddenly, her eyes widened and she yanked her hand back up and crossed her arms.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I thought something touched me. Something cold." She paused, then offered him a tiny smile. "It must have been a breeze."

  David tried to hide his delight as he stepped closer to her and reached into the area where her hand had been. He found the cold spot immediately. An instant later, it dissipated. He walked back to the light switch, but felt nothing. "It's a free floater," he said, smiling.

  "A what?"

  "I felt it when we first came in. It's a cold spot. You've heard of them?"

  "Yes," she said hesitantly. "Of course."

  "Some of them are stationery, some move around within a given space."

  Theo yelped and swatted at the back of her neck. "I felt it again," she whispered, moving closer to David.

  "We'll have to find out if that's what scared off the painters," David said, more to himself than to her. He felt it again, like a breath of frigid air on his face. At the same time, Theo started and touched her cheek.

  "Sometimes these change size," he said, raising his hands to try to discern the shape of the spot. It hovered in front of their faces and seemed to be the size of a couple of beach balls.

  "It keeps touching me." Theo's voice shook with fear now.

  It wasn't touching him much at all, which told him he was right about Theo being particularly open to manifestations. "Don't be afraid," he said. "The more fear you give off, the more you'll feed it."

  Theo made a disgusted noise and swatted at the air, then took three quick steps to the door and put her hand on the latch. "Christ!" she cried, letting go of it. "It's freezing! David, what's going on?" She grabbed his arm and clung to him.

  "It's okay," he said, touching the knob. It felt very cool, but not freezing. "Touch it again," he said softly. "Is it still freezing?"

  Gingerly, she put one finger on it and drew back quickly. "Yes!" she hissed. "Let's get out of this awful room!"

  "Theo, listen to me. There's nothing to be afraid of. The latch feels colder to you than it does to me because you're frightened."

  "That's ridiculous."

  She looked ready to bolt, so he grabbed both her upper arms in his hands and made her face him. "No, it's not ridiculous. Your fear is feeding the phenomenon. The reason it's bothering you more than me is because I've seen these things before so I'm not afraid It can't draw energy from me like it can from you because I won't feed it. Don't be afraid. You'll only increase its strength."

  "David," she said slowly and sarcastically, "How can I not be afraid?" She flinched as something invisible floated between them. David could feel the coolness feather over his cheeks. It made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle up and he told himself it was cruel to make her stay there any longer.

  Still, it was so utterly fascinating...

  "All a cold spot is, is an energy drain. It doesn't think, it doesn't feel. It's mindless. It's drawn to humans because we have energy it can feed on. It's also drawn to electrical devices. Wherever you find cold spots, you're going to find problems with light bulbs going out, clocks stopping, and things turning on and off mysteriously. Batteries
don't last long in haunted houses. Now, does that sound very spooky to you? To me, it sounds merely annoying and--"

  The cloying scent of jasmine suddenly dropped over them. A suffocating cloak, sweet and rich, it swirled within the growing coldness that touched his face and neck, his arms, and body. He could feel spectral fingers through his clothing, patting him, prying and familiar, touching his lips, hardening his nipples, caressing his buttocks and penis with horrifying intimacy. Adrenalin surged through him, eating away at his courage, filling him with utter panic.

  Imprisoned in his hands, Theo stood utterly still, her eyes glazed, the chocolaty irises nearly eaten by her pupils. She moaned.

  "Come on," he said raggedly. "Let's get out of here." He let go of her to open the door, but she had turned to stone. He could hardly breathe. "Theo! Let's go!"

  Slowly, her eyes met his, still glazed and slightly unfocused. Her tongue poked out and wet her lips. Her nostrils flared. She tilted her chin up toward him, her mouth slightly open.

  He became aware of a putrid odor underlying the jasmine, a foul, rotting-meat smell, sweet and nauseating.

  "Theo!" he said harshly. "Snap out of it!" He started to raise his hand to slap her cheek to get her out of her daze, but she caught his wrist in a cold iron grip.

  "David," she whispered, her voice throaty with emotion. She pulled him closer, raising her lips to meet his.

  The kiss was cold fire and David drew back, not believing she had kissed him, or that he'd responded. She put two fingers under his chin and drew him toward her again. Her other hand snaked around his waist and pushed against the small of his back, pressing his body into hers as they kissed again, her tongue forcing his lips apart, darting and exploring. He responded, sucking her lush lower lip into his mouth, tasting her, smelling her beneath the scent of jasmine and decay. The erection he ground against her body was so hard that it hurt.