The Ghosts of RedRise House

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The Ghosts of RedRise House Page 20

by Caroline Clark


  Now she just had to wait until these two crazy people came to see her. As the minutes passed, she began to believe that they must be con artists and she wanted to get up and walk out. But, she couldn't. She owed it to Rosie to at least try and work this out.

  36

  Jesse steered the old Jeep along the winding country roads toward Leeds. It was a trip that was now quite familiar to him and no longer required his full attention. The countryside was stark, but beautiful. The road sloped away to the left and rose above them on the right. It was dotted with the occasional tree, lots of sheep, and the dry stonewalling that was so prevalent on the moors.

  For the last few weeks they have been very busy, but of the five cases they had dealt with, only one had been a genuine haunting. Of the others, one had been the case of, so-called friends, trying to scare the client. The others were easily explained by rattling pipes and faulty boilers. It was amazing how much central heating pipes would rattle and knock if there was air in the system. Even to professionals like Gail and Jesse, it could be quite scary.

  The last case he had dealt with, the family were convinced that they had a ghost. They had even communicated with it by getting it to answer the questions with knocks. They had heard it walking across the floor and there were cold spots and drops in temperature, which seemed to point toward a spirit.

  It had taken both Jesse and Gail a while to persuade them that there was nothing supernatural there. Bleeding the central heating system and then calling a plumber in to do a power flush certainly helped. Jesse had then found himself lifting floorboards and padding the pipework. Eventually though, he had been able to put the client’s mind at rest and move on.

  To Gail, it had been disappointing and frustrating. She was still so excited about communicating with spirits, that the more mundane side of the business didn't interest her. But to Jesse, it was all part of the job. Putting someone's mind at ease, relieving their fear, was just as important whether it was a ghost or not.

  They had been so busy that so far they haven't had a night to themselves in the last month and a half.

  Gail was still working her job as an architect and because they had been so busy during the day, she was often working at night. So far, even though their paranormal investigations agency was going well, she wasn't prepared to give up her job and Jesse couldn't blame her. It also meant he hadn't had time to propose. He wanted to do it properly, romantically, or maybe he was just procrastinating.

  The ring was still in his desk drawer and every so often, when she wasn't there, he would get it out and look at it. Maybe he should take her away for a few days. Book a short break and go, no matter what came up.

  Yeah, he would do that. After this job he would clear some time and take her away. They could go back to London for a few days. Take in a show, do some shopping, he could book a nice restaurant, and there he could propose. Just thinking about it put a big smile on his face and he decided that was the plan. As soon as this job was finished, he would book it and no matter what came up, they would go away.

  "What are you smiling at?" Gail asked.

  Jesse felt heat hit his cheeks and he kept his eyes on the road. He was sure she knew what he was planning, as she always seemed to be teasing him whenever he was thinking about it.

  "I was just thinking what a fabulous job we have," he said, keeping his eyes on the road.

  "What do you think about this one? Do you think it is genuine? Is there anything I ought to know before we go in there?"

  Jesse thought about it for a few moments. Gail was very good at putting people at ease, much better than he was. Her only problem was she didn't have much patience and if she thought it wasn't a real haunting, sometimes she thought the client was wasting their time. It was all part of learning the business. Understanding that the client was frightened and that the fear was real, even if the haunting wasn't.

  "She didn't tell me much, but I can tell that she is afraid for her friend. I think this one we just play by ear, feel things out, and see how we go."

  Gail nodded. "This coffee shop is becoming like a second office for us. If you are not careful, they’ll be charging us rent."

  Jesse laughed and steered the car into the car park.

  "Okay, let’s go meet our new client." Saying that still gave him a special sort of buzz.

  The coffee shop was crowded, but they spotted the client quite quickly. She was sitting at a small table on the right near the back. She was the only person alone and looked as if it was taking all her effort to stay still. It was as if she wanted to leave and was forcing herself to sit there.

  Jesse and Gail threaded their way through the crowd and walked up to the table. Jesse held out his hand. "Hi Amy, I'm Jesse and this is Gail. It's really nice to meet you. Would you like another drink?"

  Amy stood and shook his hand. She was an attractive looking girl, her dirty blonde bed hair styled short. Her big brown eyes were worried and the lines beneath them told of her fatigue. Gail squeezed her hand as they shook and gave her a slight smile.

  While Jesse got the drinks, Gail sat down. He knew that she would develop a rapport easier without him there.

  Gail was the one with the talent now as she could sense spirits much easier than Jesse, but he doubted she would sense anything here. They would have to meet the friend, if they determined it was worthwhile.

  Jesse put the three drinks on the table and sat down.

  "Now, tell us everything," he said.

  "I don't know where to start." Amy's eyes were moist with unshed tears and she looked down, a little ashamed.

  "I understand that this is frightening and difficult. When was the first time you noticed your friend was different?" Jesse knew it was easier to go right back to the beginning. That way, what Amy was telling them wouldn't sound quite as strange. They could gain her confidence and get a feeling for whether this was a real haunting before she had to tell them anything too difficult.

  Amy looked up and chewed on her lip for a moment, then she nodded. "I house sit for a living. Rosie had a really bad... she was attacked by her boyfriend and beaten very badly. If I hadn't found her she would have died. He disappeared, and she ended up living in hotels to hide from him for some time. I suggested that she take on a housesitting job in order to get away. To somewhere where he couldn’t find her, and to give her a chance to write in peace. I forgot to say she writes for a living." She stopped and sipped at her coffee.

  "Go on," Jesse encouraged.

  "I got her this job at a lovely old remote house. I thought it would be perfect for her, but when I went to stay with her for a few days, she wanted to come back and she was acting really strange."

  "Strange, how?" Jesse asked.

  Amy looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. It looked like she didn't want to say.

  "You can tell us. It doesn't matter how strange it sounds," Gail said.

  Amy nodded, but a few moments passed before she was able to form the words. "The first thing I noticed was... she was dirty and she smelt really bad. It looked like she hadn't washed in days, and that isn't like Rosie. Then she was cold and distant, and at times she didn't seem to understand things.” Amy’s mouth fell open, her eyes widened.

  “Oh my God. Maybe she's had a stroke or something. Oh my God, what am I doing talking to you when she could be sick or dying?"

  "Don't worry, we will rule out a medical condition if we think we need to. Now where was this house?" Jesse asked.

  "It was right out in the sticks the other side of Leeds; it’s called RedRise House."

  Jesse felt the old excitement curl in his stomach. RedRise House was not too far away and it had a reputation. There were tales of people going missing there in the past and he had heard that it had once been used for occult rituals. It was one of the properties that they planned to investigate but, as always, they hadn't had time just yet.

  "We have heard of RedRise House; it has some history," Gail said.

  Jesse touched her foot benea
th the table, his signal to leave this to him. When they were investigating, it was best not to cloud the client's view with any tales. It was amazing how much evidence the human mind could find to support something that it thought was true. However, knowing that Rosie had been to RedRise House certainly made things very interesting.

  "What else did you notice?" Jesse asked.

  "She was cruel at times and her face would look as if she was trying to stop herself from saying something. It was like she was trying to stop an expression from showing. At first I thought it was a joke, and then one day I was outside her house and I heard her talking to herself in two different voices. She was talking about... oh, God, I don't know whether to tell you this?"

  Gail reached out and took her hand.

  "It's okay," Jesse said. "Whatever you say will be in confidence and we will help you through this, no matter what it is."

  "She was talking about killing someone. It was as if she was arguing with herself."

  Jesse nodded. He really wanted to meet Rosie and to investigate this place. So far, he could think of two main reasons this could be happening: The first was that she had suffered a schizophrenic breakdown, and the other was that she was possessed. He believed it was the latter.

  "Could she have done this? Could she be mad?"

  "It's possible, but this sounds a little like a possession to me. Spirits are often not bothered about cleanliness. They also take time to fully control a person. During that time, they will be fighting the host they are within and they don't know everything the host knows. That would make your friends behavior strange. I think we need to meet her... would that be possible?"

  “There is something else, something really bad, but I can’t tell you,” Amy said.

  Jesse looked down at the local paper next to Amy. He knew what the headline was, and his excitement turned to fear. Could this haunting have anything to do with the murders that were taking place? It was a lot to infer, but his gut said yes.

  “Anything you tell us will be in confidence. We would never report your friend, and even if we did, who would believe us?”

  Amy looked up at him and he could see that she wanted to talk, but she was scared.

  “Do you believe she has hurt someone?” he asked the question in his softest voice and he felt Gail come to attention next to him.

  Amy nodded.

  “Then you must be even more careful. Do not go see your friend. If she won’t come to meet us, then we will visit her. We will find a way to stop this and to help your friend.”

  Amy smiled and it lit up her face. "I can try and get her to come for lunch tomorrow. There's a little cafe across the road, can you make that?"

  "Yeah, that would be great, say 1 p.m.?"

  "Yes. I will get her there one way or another. Thank you. Now, do I pay you?" Amy looked embarrassed.

  "Let's see your friend first," Jesse said. "Be careful. If she is possessed, she will likely want to sever relations with you, and that could be dangerous. Try and arrange things over the phone and if you go see her, don't push it."

  "Okay," Amy said, but the color had dropped from her face and once more her eyes shone with tears.

  37

  Rosie was walking down a dark street. The sound of her heels echoed on the houses around her and each step caused a sharp pain in her temple. How had she gotten there?

  You're just my passenger, Matron’s words echoed inside her head. From now on, you go where I want, you do what I want, and you kill who I want.

  "No, no I won't," Rosie shouted the words, but her mouth didn't move and they sounded insipid inside her own head.

  Everything was fuzzy, from her vision to the way her body felt. It was all disconnected, all out of control. She was losing this battle, she was fading inside herself. If she didn't do something soon there would be nothing of her left. But what could she do? How could she take back control?

  You can't. I have two now. Two acolytes and soon there will be three. Then I will have Amy and you will do nothing to stop me.

  Inside her own head, Rosie screamed and shouted, but not a word of it came out.

  They turned left onto another street and carried on walking. Rosie knew what she was doing. Matron was looking for somebody alone, someone vulnerable. She was looking for another easy kill.

  How could she stop her?

  You can't.

  "I can and I will."

  Rosie's mind was filled with pain... searing, boiling, excruciating pain that made her retreat back inside herself. She drew back into her vault… back to safety.

  The pain eased and she was able to breathe again. Cautiously she peeked out of her vault and watched what was going on.

  Matron had walked for maybe half an hour during the time it took Rosie to recover, yet it had felt like mere minutes. She had to be careful, cleverer than this if she was going to win.

  Her body’s heartbeat kicked up a notch and she could feel Matron's excitement. There, across the street, was a young man. He was maybe twenty-one or two and he was very drunk. Stumbling along the street, he tripped on a raised paving stone before stumbling into the wall. Then he laughed and slid down to the ground. Having tried to get up a couple of times but failing, he slumped back down and laughed some more.

  Matron crossed the road, looking left and right. Not for traffic. This was a quiet part of town. No, she was looking for witnesses.

  Rosie bided her time, waiting for any chance to save the man.

  Her heart, Matron's heart, was racing now as they got closer to their prey.

  Sprawled on the street, the young man pushed a lock of floppy coal black hair out of his eyes and looked around. He was embarrassed and trying to see if he was being watched.

  Matron froze, slinking back into the shadows of one of the trees that lined the street.

  The young guy continued to scan his surroundings. There was a bemused expression on his face as he stared around him. Seeing no one there, he tried to haul himself up to his feet.

  As he did, Matron stepped out from the tree and walked to the next one. Rosie felt her excitement build… she was so sure she could do this. Rosie knew she had to stop her, but how?

  Floppy-haired man was half standing now, leaning against the wall with his back to them. There was a little over 10 feet between them and Rosie was aware of the knife in her hand.

  Where had it come from?

  Had it been there all along?

  She didn't know the answer, but there wasn’t time to work that out right now. Fighting back the revulsion at the wet leather in her fingers, she steeled herself to act and bided her time.

  The man was standing, wobbling on his feet and still clutching onto the wall.

  Matron crept along behind him. Intending to get within striking distance before he even knew she was there. The street was dark and tree-lined and they were between streetlamps. The shadows were in her favor as was the inebriated state of her intended victim.

  With all the concentration she could muster, Rosie slammed down her left leg. The sound of it slapping onto the pavement echoed in the street, and the young man jumped into the air and turned around quite comically.

  He was staring right at them. Rosie could feel Matron's anger, followed by a burst of pain. It wouldn't stop her, not this time as she was becoming immune to it. Before Matron could act, she opened her mouth and screamed, "Run, she wants to kill you! She has a knife! Run quickly!"

  Rosie had expected pain but instead she felt confusion. Suddenly, Matron lurched forward with the knife in her right hand. Rosie had no control as her arm raised high into the air. Poised now for the killer blow.

  The drunken man could hardly see through his floppy black hair, but there was a jovial smile on his face. He expected this was just a joke. Possibly even thought one of his mates had put her up to it. Then he saw the knife and his drunken expression became one of stone-cold sobriety. Moving backward with surprising speed, he seemed to have a chance. Then his feet caught on each other and
he was sent sprawling to the pavement. The look on his face was one of abject fear as the knife in Rosie's hand plunged toward him.

  Matron moved so fast. Jumping across the distance and pouncing on him like a lion on its prey. She didn't bother with the ritual tonight and didn’t bother which way she was facing. She simply slashed the blade through his jugular as Rosie screamed in despair, watching the confusion on his terrorized face. The word why on his lips as the light went out of his eyes.

  Rosie woke in her bed. This time there was no blissful ignorance. No period of not knowing what had happened. She could even feel the dried blood on her clothes and the memory of what had happened was ever so clear. However, once more, she was in control again. Each time Matron killed she gained power and yet it seemed that just after the killing, she was at her weakest. How could she use that to her advantage?

  Throwing back the covers, she was aghast to see the bloodstains on the bed. How many times had she gone to sleep with her blood-covered clothes on?

  Quickly stripping off her clothes, she walked through to the bathroom. On the floor in the corner was now three days’ worth of blood-soaked clothing. Her stomach began to wretch a dry heave at the ghastly and all-too-familiar sight. Climbing into the shower, she began to wash her body clean. Once more, the water ran red as she soaked and shampooed and scrubbed at herself.

  Today she wasn't going to worry about what was done. She pushed away the feeling of disgust and despair. She forced back the guilt. It was time to concentrate on the future and how to stop this madness. Maybe she had a little time. Maybe she could talk to Amy before Matron regained control.

  Showered and changed, she walked down the stairs, hunger and fatigue making her dizzy as she grabbed the phone. The temperature in the kitchen dropped and yet she wasn't scared. Maybe she should be as she knew what was about to happen. Mary would appear to her from out of the mist. Mary believed she had killed her and no doubt wanted revenge, yet she didn't care. If the old ghost killed her, then maybe this nightmare would be over.

 

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