by James Hold
***
“It was a horrible tragedy. Black Hollow had never seen such violence before, and hasn’t since that fateful day in 1876.”
I had to make an effort not to roll my eyes at Joanna’s theatrics. We were seated on an overstuffed Victorian couch better suited for a parlor in Charleston than this small house in Kansas. In fact, the whole place seemed to be made up in the most garish Victorian fashions imaginable.
Much like Joanna herself. She was simpering now, overcome by the deaths of two as he continued on with his interview. I caught Joey standing off to the side, struggling to open a piece of gum while holding the camera steady and tried not to laugh. I wondered if he knew this was what he was signing up for when he agreed to join our little show.
I doubted it.
“How are you related to the Tillotsons, Ms. Whitaker?”
Elliot had leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he listened to her explain how she was the daughter of Samuel’s great uncle. Not direct granddaughter as we had been led to believe. I made a mental strike in my head of the first lie she had been caught in, promising to look up her history as soon as I could.
“I was raised here, you see. These very walls speak of the murder which happened here. Poor Catherine.”
Joanna was on the verge of tears again, so I stepped in. “Tell us about them.”
“What?” She paused, either for the effect or because she was surprised I had finally spoken. Either way, the woman had the decency to stop her ridiculous dramatics.
“The murders. What happened that night?”
“Oh, well. It is told that Samuel flew into a rage after he discovered Catherine had a lover. He had adored her, you see. He even had built this house for them to raise a family in.”
“But tax records show Samuel bought the house in 1872.” I had no problems interrupting her second lie. “It was already here when they came to Kansas from Tennessee. He didn’t build anything.”
Joanna glared at me. “Well, perhaps I have my facts wrong. But he did, at least, buy this house for her. And they were madly in love.”
“How did he find out about this lover?” I mirrored Elliot, leaning forward as if I were engrossed by her tale.
“Well, now, it was such a scandal!” Joanna threw a gloved hand to her forehead. “He walked in on them in the midst of a passionate embrace. Her lover got away, but poor Catherine! She met the edge of her husband’s very blade that night.”
“I don’t understand.” I gestured to Cyrus who brought my folder to me. I thumbed through the paperwork and found what I was looking for. “According to the Wichita papers, there was a blizzard during the week of the murder. And it had been snowing for weeks prior to that. How could a lover get to this house – which is out in the middle of nowhere – and get away without freezing to death? Besides, we don’t know if Catherine was stabbed or not. Even the police reports are unclear on how she actually died.”
“Can we take a break please?” Joanna was positively furious as she pulled a fan out from her elegant costume and slapped herself on the knee. Joey made moves to cut the camera off. She made sure he sat the equipment down before she turned on me.
“What are you trying to do?” Our client snapped at me. “You ask me questions but refuse to believe my answers. How dare you!”
“I told you outside and I’m telling you now, we are here for the truth.” I returned her glare as I gestured to the papers in my lap. “There is this new thing called the internet. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. The people who watch television also utilize those services. They can easily pull up the information you give to us. If it is wrong, it will do more harm than good. Your theatrics are fantastic, I’m sure. But I did not travel all the way here to be lied to.”
“Lied to?” Joanna was huffing. “Why, I never! You understand, don’t you?” She turned on Elliot like a cat. “You understand how important the legend is around these parts. It is what keeps our town on the map because tourists want to believe the tragedy.”
“Yes, I do.” Elliot disentangled himself from the grip the woman had on him. “But Eva is right, ma’m. We are doing an investigation, not a travel show. We need to know what really happened so it can support what the spirits are telling us.”
“There are no facts!” Joanna stood up in a swirl of skirts and spit. “We don’t know what happened.”
I caught sight of Joey finally getting into that piece of gum. I noticed to the small red light on the camera was blinking. God bless him, our cameraman had turned the camera back on when she wasn’t looking.
“Alright, alright.” I stepped in, trying to act as a mediator. “Let’s start over, shall we? Joey, grab your camera. Let’s start with what we do know. Two people died here, right?”
As Joey raised the camera up, Joanna’s anger fell away to the genteel façade she had when we arrived. She sank back into her chair with a nod. “Yes.”
“Catherine Tillotson was believed to be murdered by her husband, Samuel Tillotson, who then killed himself in the backyard?”
“Yes. It was,” She looked up to me and the tone in her voice fell a notch. “That is where they found him with the knife buried in his chest.”
“Ok.” I started to pace, but there wasn’t enough room with all the knickknacks and tables cluttering the room. I settled on tapping my fingers against my chin instead. “And it is believed this place is haunted.”
“Yes.” Joanna’s face lit up as she saw an opportunity for the theatrics to continue. “We see them, you know. Catherine and Samuel. They appear before us in the shape of wisps and shadows.”
“What else?” Elliot shifted in his seat and I could see the interest in his eyes.
“Well, things move on their own accord. The knickknacks and such. I believe Catherine loves to have them in her home. She always loved such delicate things.”
“Ms. Whitaker,” I made sure the underlying warning was clear in my words. “The facts and nothing more.”
“Oh, very well. Come see the rest of the house I’ll show you the diary Samuel kept when they first moved here.”
Joanna led us up a thin staircase and into an even smaller hallway. When she reached the final room to her left, she opened the door. “This was their bedroom. We had it restored to fit the time period, just as every other room in the Tillotson home.”
Elliot stepped inside, but before he could utter a single word of warning, I followed in behind him to be faced with a large oval mirror. There were no whispers in my head this time; only the loud screams of the woman facing me in me the glass. She was covered in the blood which ran from her neck. The moment I stepped into the room, I felt a sharp pain rip across my throat as her anger overwhelmed my mind. I’m afraid I screamed along with her as she reached out, her arms slipping through the glass as if it were liquid.
My screams were silent. I could feel myself trying to get it out, but there was nothing. No sound. No echo. Nothing.
“Eva!” Elliot grabbed me, pulling me from the room so quickly I crumpled into a heap on the carpet. He then turned to a bewildered Joanna. “Close the door. Now!”
I heard the door slam shut as Elliot gathered me up in his arms. I couldn’t shake the fear surrounding me. I knew the woman I’d seen was Catherine. I had been blindsided by the mirror itself and she took advantage of it to scare the daylights out of me. Elliot sat me back down on the sofa with Cyrus crouching down beside me.
“Little One, Eva,” Cyrus reached up and brushed his hand over my neck. “You are bleeding.”
“No, I’m not.” I was trying to get a hold of myself as my voice came back. I sounded like I had swallowed a bucket full of nails. “She didn’t touch me.”
“She didn’t have to.” Cyrus lifted up his hand to show me his fingers were streaked with blood. “Catherine Tillotson shared more than her presence with you, it seems.”
“She shared her wounds.” I finished his sentence, staring incredulously at him. “How is this possible? Why c
an’t I feel it?”
“What is going on here?” Joanna was standing off to the side, upset she was no longer the center of our camera’s attention. No, such an honor was reserved for me now. “I thought you didn’t want dramatic.”
“Take care of her.” Cyrus gestured to Elliot from his position by my feet. “She will only be in the way.”
“Damn you, no.” Elliot looked as if he were going to knock Cyrus clear across the room as he put his cell phone to his ear. “Let me get a doctor in here to take a look at Eva. She needs help. That cut looks pretty serious.”
“It will heal on its own before any physician can get here.” Cyrus stood and faced Elliot. “If my words weren’t true, if she wasn’t what she is, then your Eva would be dead by now. Obviously, she is very much alive. There is nothing to worry about. Now go. Take care of the spectator. I will ensure the Sibyl’s safety.”
“Spectator? Why, I never! And in my very own house!” Joanna was so upset by Cyrus, her lily white complexion became red with anger. “I have every right to be here if any of this footage is going to be shown on television.”
“Ma’am, Eva has had an injury. It is best if we give her some room.”
Elliot sounded tired as he took the woman’s elbow to lead her outside. I could hear him as they stood out on the porch. He was reassuring her I would be fine and that Theia Productions was not going to sue her. I could tell he had his hands full, but I didn’t have the strength to go outside to save him. I reached to my throat and traced the jagged line stretching across my skin. I took a brief moment to wonder if I would end up with a scar as I pulled my hand away. A quick glance down at my shirt told me it was ruined. After I finished my brief examination, I turn to my keeper for answers.
“I didn’t die because of the immortality clause in this whole Sybil contract, right?”
Cyrus didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. I could see the affirmation in his dark eyes as he busied himself with examining me.
“How could she harm me? Cyrus, Catherine wasn’t contained by the glass. She reached through it.”
Cyrus lifted himself up to sit on the couch beside me when he was satisfied the wound had indeed closed on its own. I was sure he did it to buy time to find his answer. I wasn’t mistaken. When Cyrus spoke, his words were slow and careful.
“As I told you many times before, Eva, you have much training to do in the event something like what just happened does indeed occur. The spirit world is one of power. Certain souls have more than others. You must be prepared.”
“So they can physically hurt me now?” I hissed in an attempt to keep my voice down. It was hard enough to sit here as if nothing had happened. “I thought my powers were limited to just seeing and speaking with them. Messenger of the dead, remember?”
“I do.” Cyrus kept his hands together in his lap. “Messenger of the dead, daughter of Apollo. Those are your titles, Little One. I thought you did the readings I gave you. Did you skip the ones regarding Hades?”
“I don’t know. I read a lot, mind you. It seems like I missed the most important parts though.” I sighed. “How can I keep them from harming me? Or at the very least, from being so scared I need to change my jeans after an encounter.”
He chuckled. “Time? Practice? Exposure? There are no certain methods to protect yourself, Little One. I can only tell you what the others before you found to be useful. Expect to see them. Learn to listen to the sounds of the dead long before you are faced with a portal they can get though.”
“Like the mirror upstairs.”
“Yes. I told you before, use only Apollo’s mirror to make contact. The glass is too small for them to reach through.” Cyrus tapped the side of my head gently. “Stop and listen before you walk into any space. If you start to hear the whispers, put up the door in your mind. This will hold them off until you can actively do so when faced by them in the glass itself. If they come through, form a shield much like your door around you. This too will be easier with practice. I will be able to pull you free if I must, but it is dangerous for you.”
“My new role has become extraordinarily tedious.” I grumbled as I stood up to go outside. I could feel the hate in this place now, and it was so much more than I could have believed possible. The very walls seemed to vibrate with the resounding scream still echoing inside my mind. “Let’s go. I think we are done here for now.”
“Yes, I believe so as well.” Cyrus nodded as he followed me. “For now.”