“Christ, God's Word made flesh, commands you. Be gone, Satan, inventor, and master of all deceit, the enemy of man's salvation. Unclean and evil beast, hear the Lord’s words and be gone.”
Matron threw back her hood and dark eyes blasted Rosie with loathing. The look was like a physical force, pushing her back and she wanted to run. To turn and flee from this place but she couldn’t. Where would she go?
A pitiful sound pulled her eyes back to the children. She had to help them if it was the last thing she did.
“I cast you out, unclean spirit; in the name of our Lord, Jesus Christ, be gone from these creatures of God.”
A strong wind roared toward her and knocked her off her feet. She was slammed into the wall with a resounding crash and the pain in her shoulder threatened broken bones.
Turning from Matron she concentrated on the children. This was her power, remove the Matron's support base and she would have a chance. Only she had suffered a major blow and she had a long way to go.
“In the Name of Jesus, I rebuke the spirit of Mary Patterson. I command you leave this place, without manifestation and without harm to me or anyone, so that He can dispose of you according to His Holy Will.”
A small girl smiled at her before disappearing.
Matron screamed and the room became a whirlwind of flying objects. Rosie ducked down and covered her head with her one good arm. When she felt something cold touch her hand. Peeking out from beneath her arm she saw Alice holding the salt.
Taking it she understood and she picked herself up and battled against the wind. Slowly she managed to make her way across the room to Matron and she threw the salt at her. At first Matron just gave her a look of pure hatred. Rosie threw again and then the spirit was gone.
Rosie collapsed back onto the floor, gasping. Before she could catch her breath, Alice was back and she knew that she must not rest. This respite gave her time to weaken the spirit and she had to take it.
“In the Name of Jesus, I rebuke the spirit of Lydia Patterson. I command you leave this place, without manifestation and without harm to me or anyone, so that He can dispose of you according to His Holy Will.”
Rosie did not know where the names were coming from but as she said the prayer a name came into her mind and the corresponding child stepped forward. There were over two dozen of them. More than she realized before and Alice seemed to be the leader. She protected the children, holding their hands and pushing them forward if they were reluctant to go. Her sweet smile was strong and warming and she nodded often to show her approval.
Rosie was exhausted. Each time she read the prayer it drained energy from her. It was as if she was giving a little bit of herself to help the children cross over and she wondered just how much more of it she could take. What would happen when Matron came back?
There was no time to dwell on such things, for that way led to madness and fear. If she were to do this she must be calm, quick, and determined. Each child she sent to peace reduced the spirits power and increased her chances and yet she was so tired how could she ever wish to fight her?
Rosie started the prayer again, “In the Name of Jesus, I rebuke the spirit of Martin Johnson. I command you leave this place...”
The air chilled in her lungs and the pressure on her chest took the very breath from her. Rosie dropped to her knees and clutched onto her chest. The pressure was intense. It squeezed her lungs until they screamed. On her knees she choked and coughed, desperate to draw breath. Just as darkness began to settle over her she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Alice.
“Just breathe, it is all in your mind. We will help you,” the girl said in her mind.
Rosie dragged in a desperate breath and nodded. Looking up she could see four figures wearing the heavy dark cloaks. Her vision was still blurry and she could not make out their faces, even though their hoods were down. Then she could see that they surrounded a smaller figure. They must be her acolytes, the malevolent people who had given up their souls to worship this creature. How could she face such evil and win?
Rosie tried to stand but was blasted off her feet with a gust of fetid air. Knocked back, she slammed into the wall. The impact was bone crunching and knocked the wind from her lungs. For a moment she felt her eyes close and blackness was a welcome friend. It would take her away to a world of rest and recuperation. Slowly she let it take her and relaxed into the dark. A hand shook her shoulder and then slapped her face.
Rosie jerked awake to see Alice before her.
“Do not sleep or you will be hers,” the young voice said in her head. “You will be a lost soul forever if she gets inside of you.”
Rosie nodded and shook her head to clear it. The acolytes were approaching her and she knew that this would be the last battle. Could she win?
18
Alice was by her side offering support.
This incensed the spirits and Rosie could feel the hatred as they rushed toward her. Raising her hand, she threw the salt and chanted the prayer.
“Christ, God's Word made flesh, commands you. Be gone, Satan, inventor, and master of all deceit, the enemy of man's salvation. Unclean and evil beast, hear the Lord’s words and be gone.”
As the salt touched the black robes, curls of smoke rose into the room and the acolytes stopped. Their hoods were raised but she could sense their doubt. It was as if she could understand their minds. They had been promised eternal life and suddenly they were vulnerable and it shocked them to their core.
Was she winning?
Again, she said the prayer and walked forward tossing salt over the cloaked figures. “Christ, God's Word made flesh, commands you. Be gone, Satan, inventor, and master of all deceit, the enemy of man's salvation. Unclean and evil beast, hear the Lord’s words and be gone.”
The one to her left dissolved. It was as if the salt was acid that burned through the heavy cloak and then into the flesh below. The creature screamed in a most inhuman way and yet the more it burned the more it appeared to become what it once was. As if the pain burned away the evil and stripped it back to the person it had once been. One moment it writhed in agony and the next the face cleared, smoothed and dark eyes gained peace and then it was gone. The other figures were backing slowly away.
Filled with confidence Rosie walked forward and tossed more salt.
“Christ, God's Word made flesh, commands you. Be gone, Satan, inventor, and master of all deceit, the enemy of man's salvation. Unclean and evil beast, hear the Lord’s words and be gone.”
She pushed every ounce of energy she had into the prayer and filled it with the intense desire to see the spirits gone. They melted before her eyes. As if struck down by a holy white fire sparking from the grains of salt.
Now, she was face to face with matron and she could feel the joy of the young girl beside her. This had been a long time coming and Alice was rejoicing. Yet, Rosie could see the look on the spirit’s face. She was not afraid and that scared her. What did she know? Or maybe she also wanted peace after all these years.
“You will not destroy me!” Matron roared. “I am old and eternal and I have traveled this path many times before. Run now and I will let you leave... if you stay I will consume you and use your body for all eternity.”
There was silence and Matron pointed to the door. For a moment Rosie almost turned and ran. Something about the old woman’s face told her that she actually had the choice. That this time she would escape. Only as she looked at the door she looked past Alice. The young girls face crumpled into a look of pure despair and yet she nodded. Alice would encourage her to go, to save herself even though it would leave her and the rest of the children in torment. Rosie knew she could not do that. No, she was in this until the end and she would have her happy ever after. She would save all the children and she would send this evil bitch back to the hell she came from.
Quickly she walked forward throwing the salt and shouting out the prayer, “Christ, God's Word made flesh, commands you. Be gone, Satan,
inventor, and master of all deceit, the enemy of man's salvation. Unclean and evil beast, hear the Lord’s words and be gone.”
Mabel stepped back in shock and seemed to fade.
“Our Father who art in heaven,” Rosie prayed. “Hallowed by Thy name. Thy kingdom come.”
Matron was fading. It was not the same as the other spirits. She did not burn or sizzle as they had done.
“Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”
Instead she seemed to fold in on herself. Shrinking before their eyes. Becoming smaller and fainter.
“Give us this day out daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”
Rosie felt her spirits soar and continued walking toward the shrunken figure. She was winning; she would survive this. Once more she threw salt and the woman bowed over before her.
“Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory forever and ever.”
As she walked towards Matron the older woman faded away to nothing.
Rosie had won.
She dropped to her knees and put her head in her hands.
“Amen,” she whispered and then burst into tears. She had done it. She had survived and all she wanted to do now was curl up on the floor and sleep.
A gentle hand touched her shoulder and she looked up to see Alice smiling up at her. This wasn’t over. She still had to see that all the children were given rest.
“I haven’t forgotten you,” she said and sat up. “Just give me a minute.”
The gentle voice appeared in her head. “There is no rush. We can wait another night. Sleep now and we will watch over you. Tomorrow night is time enough to lay our souls to rest.”
Rosie nodded and stumbled to her feet. She walked across the office and to the opulent bed in the other room. For a moment something nagged at her mind but she pushed it away and fell onto the bed. Before she could even adjust her position she was asleep.
19
Rosie jerked awake and sat up in the dimly lit room, her heart pounding. With her hand clutched to her chest, she listened and tried to make sense of what had woken her. It was hard to remember but she had been dreaming. In her dream she was fighting and she was losing.
There was nothing here.
She let out a long breath and relaxed against the headboard. It had all been a dream. Closing her eyes she tried to calm her pounding heart and catch her breath. Yet there was something wrong with her cheek. It felt different, stiff, no not that. It just felt wrong. Thinking that it was probably just how she lying but knowing she wouldn't sleep until she had taken a look she crawled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom.
As her feet touched the floor her back and hip ached. It had not been that long since she had taken a severe battering. The bumps and bruises were letting her know about it. Maybe that was what was wrong with her face. Maybe it was just a bruise and yet still, she felt drawn to the mirror. She had to see what the problem was.
Pulling on the cord, she flooded the bathroom with light. The gray room had never looked so somber. The paint so dull it cloaked the room in shadow. Now she knew she had to be imagining this. Looking for problems where there were none. So she walked to the sink and ran some water. Then, she looked up at the mirror and her face.
Fear traced a cold knife down her spine and then rammed it into her heart. The hairs rose on her arms and her breath froze in her throat. The left side of her face was distorted.
Her hand reached out to touch it; the skin felt course, dry, wrinkled. As she watched, it was as if that side of her face was aging rapidly. The skin tone slackened. Her cheek dropped and deep crow's feet appeared around her eyes. Wrinkles spread across her cheek and lines appeared etched deep into the skin.
Rosie's mouth fell open, still she could not breathe.
What was happening?
She wanted to turn away. To run back to the bed and crawl under the covers to hope that by morning this would be gone, that it was all a dream.
Instead she reached down with both hands and scooped water from the sink. Splashing it over her face.
The right side felt exactly as she thought it would but the left side felt different. It was almost as if the skin was not real, as if it was not hers. How could this be?
In her mind she tried to call Alice. The young girl had helped her so much and maybe she could help her now. Nothing happened, just that strange half face in the mirror.
Maybe this was just a dream and she had to wake up. With her right hand she pinched her left arm.
“Ouch.”
The pain was real and still nothing changed.
At last she could draw in a breath and found she was gasping for air. Breath after breath she pulled into her lungs but still she wanted more. The panic was taking hold, closing her airways once more and weakening her. Closing her eyes, she willed this to be gone, willed it to be back to normal. As she opened her eyes, the wrong face stared back at her.
Once more, she lifted her hand to touch her cheek. Tentatively she traced two fingers over the crow’s feet and down her skin. It felt so strange and she pulled her hand away. Only in the mirror the hand continued to trace downward.
Rosie let out a gasp.
The left eye and the left side of her face curled into a smile... no... it was not a friendly gesture, this was a mocking, cruel motion, it was a sneer.
Stunned, Rosie reached up to touch her face. The hand in the mirror moved with her, for a moment she thought she had imagined everything. It was just her mind playing tricks on her. Yet as her fingers touched her cheek the hand in the mirror turned. She could still feel the wrinkled skin and yet she could see those very same fingers reaching out towards the mirror.
How could this be?
“I still have power,” the face in the mirror said. “You may have gotten rid of some of my strength but much of it still remains and now they will help me destroy you. See?”
The fingers looked different. Like her cheek, they were older. The joints twisted and swollen with arthritis. As they touched the glass it rippled like the surface of a lake and then the hand burst through and pointed behind her.
The breath left Rosie’s lungs and she turned around to see that she was surrounded by the children. There were at least ten of them and once more they wore the feral visage of desperate animals. They were angry, controlled, and braying for her blood.
Rosie searched for Alice but she was not amongst the crowd. How she hoped the girl had escaped but she did not think it was possible. Then she saw her, standing near the door of the bedroom.
“Alice run!” Rosie shouted. “Maybe I can set you free but keep away from her.”
Alice hesitated on the threshold. Dithering on the spot, as she wondered what was the right thing to do.
“In the Name of Jesus, I rebuke the spirit of Alice Cotton.”
There was a roar from behind her and Rosie turned back to the mirror just in time to see a figure step from the glass.
It was Matron, the woman in the cloak. She was bent and wrinkled but as Rosie watched she straightened up and smiled in a way that turned Rosie’s blood to ice.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“You know,” the voice said. “I gave you the opportunity to leave and you turned it down. Now you will be mine.”
“I command you leave this place,” Rosie shouted putting all her focus on letting Alice go but she could not take her eyes off the spectacle in front of her.
The old woman was changing. The skin became firmer, the cheeks more rounded. The wrinkles smoothed out as she watched. Gradually she seemed to straighten up. It was as if the kinks in her spine were dissolving and she was becoming younger before Rosie’s very eyes. Only that wasn’t all that was happening.
Rosie knew she had to keep on with the prayer but her mind was blank as the woman staggered towards her and put her hands around her throat. Ice cold fingers squeezed onto her windpipe and the face be
gan to change. It was morphing, flexing, dissolving and reforming and Rosie could not take her eyes off it.
As her lungs began to burn and her throat craved for just one breath of air, the figure that was squeezing the life from her became her. She was looking at a mirror image of herself. Staring into her own eyes as her own fingers squeezed the very life from her body.
Only the new her wasn’t solid. At times the figure would blink and she got the chance to draw in a breath. It seemed to happen at regular intervals and she watched and waited until she was ready for the next one.
As the fingers dissolved and loosened on her neck she stepped back. Ignoring the pain and the desperate urge to breath she shouted with all she had, “Alice go, without manifestation and without harm to me or anyone, so that He can dispose of you according to His Holy Will. Amen.”
Rosie turned to the door. Alice was looking at her with a smile on her face and yet there were tears in her eyes. She had found peace and she faded away but she was replaced by Matron wearing Rosie’s body.
Matron thrust her hands around Rosie’s neck before she could move and was squeezing again.
Rosie could feel the blackness settling on her but she knew she had to fight. So she timed it carefully and as the hands loosened she stepped to the left. She was free for a second and she drew in a deep breath before starting the prayer again.
“In the Name of Jesus, I rebuke the spirit of...”
The hands were back around her throat before she could say a name. It had been strange but each time she tried to lay the soul of one of the children to rest, their name came into her mind and she knew that the next child was Shaun Bedford, but she could not speak the words. As the hands tightened around her throat she tried to think them but everything was going black.
“You are not strong enough,” she heard her own voice say.
Be gone unclean beast, Rosie thought, but there was nothing left.
The Ghosts of RedRise House Page 11