Thriller: Horror: Spirit Doll (Mystery Suspense Thrillers) (Haunted Paranormal Short Story)

by Stephen Kingston

  Meg knew they could not afford another child, their parishioners were not the wealthiest people in the world, and asking the congregation to subsidize them with food was unthinkable. She’d simply have to sell more of her mother’s jewelry and do without. That’s all there was to it.

  Rolling over on her side, away from the snoring of her husband Meg wondered how she’d ended up with such a life. She was thirty-three years old and the mother of nine children. She could barely remember what it was like to not be pregnant because she’d been pregnant every year of her marriage so far.

  She’d tried avoiding her husband when she was likely to get pregnant but Robert wouldn’t have it. Meg had learned long ago to keep her opinions to herself and to bow to Robert’s will, she didn’t like having to hide bruises.

  Meg thought children were a blessing but breeding indiscriminately was just greedy and unhealthy for all involved, especially the mother. She’d once asked Robert what would happen if she died giving birth to one of their children and his face had blanched. Not because she’d be gone but because she wouldn’t be around to do all of the raising of the kids and he might have to take some responsibility for them. He’d assured her God wouldn’t allow that to happen, their children needed her and wouldn’t let her talk about it again.

  At one point Meg had tried to secretly take birth control. When Meg went six months without getting pregnant Robert had torn the house apart until he’d found the offending pills that kept her form conceiving. She’d hidden her tears as he poured them down the toilet and called the pharmacist, forbidding them to refill the prescription. Meg had felt her final bit of spirit die as Robert made the call and resigned herself to her life.

  Meg rolled once more, staring out of her bedroom at the window. As she had in previous pregnancies she wished she could just give this child to her friend Joan. The news she’d had today increased that desire. Poor Joan wanted nothing more than to have a child of her own. Meg was about to have two more of her own. She hadn’t even had the heart to give Joan the news yet, too worried it might hurt her friend’s feelings.

  Joan was a good friend; she’d even talked Meg into going to the doctor with her because she knew Meg was afraid of birth, even though she’d done it so many times before. Meg knew her body was wearing out and just wanted some peace from pregnancy and birth but now she was not only going to have to cope with nine young children but two tiny babies at one time. If Robert would have allowed it Meg would have just handed the new children over to Joan as soon as they were born.

  Meg wasn’t heartless, she loved each of her children, she thought to herself in the dark room, but Robert had simply asked too much of her. And poor Joan, childless and longing for nothing more than the chance to be a mother deserved to have her own child.

  Meg sighed, knowing she had to accept her fate and look ahead, to how she was going to feed her children, not keep picking over old wounds that would never heal. For some reason her brain would not allow her any rest tonight. The thoughts kept coming and she began to cry softly into her pillow as she thought over her life so far.

  Robert had promised her the world when she married him at twenty-two. She’d graduated from college with a degree in teaching and he’d promised he’d allow her to work until she got pregnant, then he’d prefer her to stay home. She’d been eager to start her new life as a teacher and wife, building a life that promised her more than just the endless tea parties and charity drives where her mother paraded her around.

  She’d had little idea that Robert would ensure she got pregnant within two months of their wedding, taking note of when her monthly visitor arrived and counting down until the week when she was most fertile. He’d been pleased beyond compare when she informed him of her pregnancy but Meg had been terrified. She knew so many women without mothers and she’d heard the whispered tales of terrible birth experiences. Birth was not something she’d looked forward to as a happy experience.

  Robert had also laid his hands on her with that first pregnancy, when she’d insisted on being able to work after the child was born. She’d not lost the child but she’d lost a bit of her own will and her spirit with that beating. Robert had told her the Bible condoned his treatment of her and he always followed his favorite passages to the letter.

  Meg had known then there was no escape but every now and then she’d have enough and rebel. By the time the fifth child was born she’d learned to hide her rebellions, to perform them in small ways that Robert wouldn’t notice or in ways that would make him think she was complying. She’d learned deceit from him and Meg hated herself for it.

  Rolling over once more Meg thought of what it must be like to be Anne, stuck up on that mountain with her mother. Meg suspected Anne’s tale of her husband John was just that, a tale, but knew Anne’s mother. Sophia and John could often be found on a Sunday discussing the evils of the modern world. Meg didn’t care for the woman and felt deep pity for Anne. The things that woman must have endured growing up with such a hateful mother.

  Meg vowed to do what she could for the poor woman, befriending her being the first of her tasks. Meg couldn’t do a whole lot to rebel against Robert but she could help Anne get away from her mother once her child had been born. She’d already written a letter to some of her old friends asking for help for the girl.

  Meg’s old friends could be vapid, judgmental, and pointless, their lives revolving around parties and social climbing but they understood charity. Meg hoped she’d be able to help the woman by setting up a fund for after her child’s birth. She’d used the story Anne had told, without telling her friends of her doubts, and posted the letters before Robert even came home.

  Meg knew she may be trapped in her life and that there was little she could do for Joan but she knew she could help Anne. Meg was determined to help the woman and hoped letters, and checks, would start arriving soon. She could not ask for that same charity for herself, Robert’s pride could not stand that, but she could ask for Anne. She’d wait until after the child’s birth to tell the woman, she decided with a smile. Her mind finally at peace, having solved one problem, Meg finally fell into a light sleep, the only time she was truly at peace.

  Chapter Six

  Over the next few months Joan, Anne, and Meg all became friends, the trio often seen doing charitable work together and visiting one another. The exception was that Joan and Meg avoided Anne’s house. They’d all silently agreed that spending time with the sour Sophia was to be avoided.

  Anne and Joan bloomed, while Meg began to grow worn-looking. The shots kept her energy levels up but Meg’s body still wasn’t responding well to her tenth pregnancy. The dark circles under Meg’s eyes worried all three women but all they could do was pray and try to ease her burden.

  Joan spent a lot more time with Meg than Anne did. It was difficult for Anne to get away from her mother. The woman always had some kind of chores for Anne to do and would apparently throw fits when she thought Anne was spending too much time with the other women.

  Anne tried to tell her mother she was with the preacher’s wife and the other woman’s best friend but Anne’s mother accused her of meeting up with men and other things that no woman should accuse her child of doing without good proof. Meg and Joan knew exactly where Anne was, with them, and thought Sophia’s accusations a sign of just how insane the woman was.

  Joan was helping Meg bathe the children and feed them, wondering for the millionth time where Robert was that was so much more important than helping his wife with their children when Meg’s phone rang. Meg looked at Joan in question and Joan shook her head, letting the other woman know she had control of the children so Meg could answer the phone in peace.

  “Hello?” Joan heard Meg ask.

  “Oh, how terrible, yes of course I’ll let Robert know Mrs. Rasnake, tell Anne…” Meg’s words cut off halfway through her sentence and Joan heard her muttering from the other room.

  “That woman is a terror and should not be allowed around people.” M
eg told Joan as she came back into the warm kitchen where they had three metal tubs set up to wash the children in.

  Joan could tell Meg was stalling, there was more than her anger at Mrs. Rasnake causing that crease between Meg’s tired eyes. Joan expected the news wasn’t good and wished Joan would get on with it. The longer Meg stewed over the news the more anxious Joan grew.

  Finally, Meg gave a mournful sigh and looked at Joan. Joan braced herself, seeing the tears in Meg’s eyes.

  “Anne’s baby was stillborn. I didn’t even know she’d been in labor. Mrs. Rasnake called to ask Robert to say a prayer for her. Not Anne or the baby but for herself. She hung up before I could ask about Anne.” Meg said bluntly, coming to the conclusion that trying to soften the blow wouldn’t work.

  Joan gave a stricken cry, her worst fear realized for her friend. Joan put a hand over her mouth, realizing too late that the hand held a wet wash cloth and spattered herself with water. Wiping at the water Joan looked over at Meg with horror.

  “How terrible! And you weren’t able to ask that hideous woman a thing. We should go and see Anne tomorrow.” Joan said, wanting to support her friend.

  Joan’s gentle kindnesses were one of the reasons Meg loved her so dearly. Still, she wondered if it would be kind to visit Anne now, in their states, the promise of life resting in their bellies where Anne’s was now empty.

  “Do you think that would be wise?” Meg asked, trying to hint at her concern, scrubbing little Simon’s head as Joan washed little Mary’s.

  “Because we’re pregnant? I don’t think it can hurt. I didn’t resent it when I lost mine.” Joan said, knowing she’d appreciated the kindness of a visit.

  “We are all different though. But if you’d like to go we can.” Meg conceded, pulling Simon out of the water and sending him off wrapped in a towel as little Michael stepped into the water.

  “It’s settled then. Can you get a sitter?” Joan asked, sudsing up little Lisa’s head as Mary walked over to the fire to dry her long hair.

  “Yes, it won’t be a problem. Now, little Michael, I believe you need a haircut; you’ll be getting that tomorrow son. Rinse your hair darling, come on that’s a good boy.” Meg coaxed her son, knowing they still had five more children to get through.

  Joan didn’t get to visit with Anne the next morning, her own labor starting that night. Joan was terrified to see her legs covered in fluids in the middle of the night, although she knew what it meant. She woke up Scott with calm, however, wanting her husband to remain peaceful, even if she was screaming in fear on the inside.

  The pains came quickly together and Joan knew enough by now to know she needed to get to the hospital quickly. Scott drove like a demon and the doctor was called in to attend to Joan. The nurses assured Joan all was going according to plan and tried to make her comfortable.

  “Everything is just fine, Joan,” the unknown woman said. “Your baby will soon be here and you’ll be a mother my dear.”

  The woman then disappeared and left Joan and Scott alone with their thoughts. Joan retreated to her own little world, Scott holding her hand from a chair, as the pains grew in intensity and frequency. Her terror grew when the doctor came in tutting.

  “No, this will never do, nurses, prepare the OR. We have to get her in now.” Doctor Nelson spoke from behind a mask.

  Joan’s terror turned into outright panic and she clenched at Scott’s hands, Anne’s worries suddenly making sense to Joan. Anne had been terrified the doctor was trying to take her baby but they’d all tried to assure her everything was fine and Doctor Nelson was a good man. The nurses had said everything was going fine, according to plan even, and now the doctor comes in, takes one look, and insists on surgery?

  “Don’t let them take me, Scott, something’s wrong here, take me to another hospital, anything but get me out of here!” She pleaded with her husband her eyes filled with fear.

  Scott made to do as his wife asked but Doctor Nelson stopped him.

  “Mr. Parker, if you take your wife out of this hospital you could cause her death and I will ensure you are prosecuted, sir. I’m sorry but she needs surgery.” The doctor said sternly, his eyes boring into Scott with threat.

  “What’s wrong with her exactly?” Scott asked, confused and uncertain.

  “She’s hemorrhaging. She will bleed to death if we don’t stop the bleeding.” The doctor said, standing in a way that hid Joan’s spread thighs from Scott’s view.

  The blood drained from Scott’s face and he moved out of the doctor’s way. He wouldn’t look at Joan as she screamed at him for help, her cries filling the entire wing of the hospital. Her cries broke Scott’s heart but he didn’t want his wife to bleed to death. He wanted the doctor to save her and so he held his hands over his ears as they wheeled his wife away.

  An hour later the nurse came to him and tore his world apart. The child had died and Joan was in critical condition. Then the woman walked away briskly. Scott sat in the hallway, his world devastated, his best friend, his wife, his love out of his reach and no other friends around to comfort him. It wasn’t until 9 am the next morning that the doctor came to take him to Joan.

  “Can I see the child?” Scott asked the doctor before he left, staring down at his wife.

  Joan refused to look at him, as if she was in a catatonic state. She apparently wasn’t responding even to pain, staring only to the right, not looking at anyone, not crying, and not speaking. Totally in her own world and refusing to interact with the world around her. Doctor Nelson had already recommended electro-shock therapy to Scott, to “bring Joan out of her stupor.”

  For a week Scott tried to talk his wife out of her state, bringing her flowers and candies, all of the things men were supposed to do for their women but nothing worked. Joan refused to budge and Scott, at his wits end finally agreed to the treatment the doctor recommended. He simply wanted what was best for Joan and this catatonic life wasn’t it.

  Scott felt a small niggle of worry that maybe this was all wrong but he was a simple man. He believed the doctor’s words and didn’t question them. Watching as the nurse took Joan away Scott hoped he’d soon see his wife again, back to her normal smiling self.

  Unlike Anne’s experience with EST Joan’s was controlled and administered with care. The experience was still traumatic but Scott noticed an improvement immediately. Joan wasn’t completely normal but she did finally speak to him.

  “Take me home.” That was all she said with a hard look in her eye that Scott had never seen before. She started crying as he pulled into the driveway and Scott gave her one of the pills the doctor had called “mother’s little helper”. She went to bed and went to sleep, never even glancing back at Scott.

  Over the weeks Meg came to visit but even that didn’t cheer Joan up. Joan seemed to have given up on life and though she’d talk to Scott it was only to respond to his questions. Deep inside Joan knew what had happened to her and her baby. The doctor had taken her to the OR where she’d delivered a healthy live baby then he’d cut her open after knocking her out with anesthesia. The next morning the nurse and the doctor both assured her none of that had ever happened, that her baby had been delivered by C-section, she’d never heard her baby cry because it had been born dead and deformed. She knew her one chance at being a mother had been stolen from her and that her baby had been stolen as well. She suspected the same had been done to Anne.

  She’d heard the whispers while she was in the hospital, heard Anne’s screams for her child. She didn’t want the same treatment as Anne had received so she kept quiet. Meg also blamed Scott but felt tremendously guilty over it. Her resentment of him grew daily, however, and the only way she could cope was to retreat from the world where her best friend, her husband, did not protect her but delivered her, over and over, to her tormentors.

  Scott’s nerves became fraught and day by day, as the house deteriorated and Joan deteriorated Scott finally called on Doctor Nelson again. The man had Joan admitted to the hospital
and more EST was given. Then came the call in the middle of the night, asking if Joan had come home. Where was Joan, the nurse asked. Scott had no idea.

  Chapter Seven

  Meg went into labor two days after Joan, her worry over both of her friends, and the stress of coping on her own, proving too much for Meg to deal with alone and the babies she was carrying decided it was time to come into the world. She called one of the women from the church to come sit with the children until Robert came home then went into the hospital on her own, her bag in hand.

  In her mind, deep down where nobody could see it, Meg was terrified, in her own way, but her previous experiences had taught her well. She knew everything was fine and expected little trouble form the birth experience. She clamped down on her worries and headed into her room with the same stoic fortitude that had got her this far in life. None of those present would have guessed that deep inside Meg was still screaming in terror like a young woman giving birth for the first time.

  Humming a country tune to herself about staying on the straight and narrow Meg walked behind the nurse into a dimly lit room, put her bag in the closet and changed into more appropriate attire for giving birth in. Wondering if her husband had made it home yet Meg calmly counted the seconds between her pains and waited for the doctor.

  The nurse came in to check Meg’s progress and didn’t say much before disappearing out of the room. Meg shifted in the bed, uncomfortable but knowing the time was coming when she’d have to use all of her strength. An hour later, when Meg was certain the first child was on the verge of hanging out of her body, the doctor arrived.

  “Hmph. No, this won’t do. Nurse, you know what you need to do.” Without another word to Meg the doctor left and she was suddenly being rolled into another room.