The Ghosts of RedRise House

by Caroline Clark

  "There is more I have to tell you," Amy said, her voice little more than a whisper. "Rosie lived with an abusive boyfriend. No doubt you saw her scars. That was why I persuaded her to visit RedRise House to house sit. I thought she would be safe there, that it would give her time to heal." Amy held back her tears and carried on. "She was never the same after that but... I bought her a present. It was a necklace I had seen her looking at."

  Jesse felt his stomach flip as he knew what was coming.

  "It was a crystal rose on a silver chain. It was found on the second victim’s body." Amy's voice choked and she broke down into tears.

  Gail got up and went around the table. She slid into the chair next to Amy and pulled her into her arms. Hugging her close, she rubbed her back and just let her cry.

  At last Amy sat up and looked across at Jesse. "She killed those people, didn't she?"

  Jesse nodded. "Most likely."

  More tears slid from Amy’s eyes as she understood her choice. Stop a killer and send her friend to jail.

  42

  Matron raced down the street as if the devil was on her heels. Fear pushed her in a way she had never felt before. The young body rushed forward, strong, athletic and yet she stumbled more than she should have. It was like she was running out of control down a hill so steep that any moment she would fall, tumble, and plummet to her death.

  No! She could not die, could not fail. Now that she had finally escaped RedRise House she had to survive, to grow, to conquer.

  Arriving back at Rosie’s, she fumbled for the key and then remembered she hadn’t bothered to lock the door. Why would she? None of the material things mattered to her. Besides, if anyone tried to come in, her acolytes would drive them out.

  That brought a smile to her face and calmed her nerves. She had power. Not the power she had before. Not the dozens of young lives that she had left behind in RedRise. Young sacrifices gave so much power. Their life force was vital, strong, and encompassing. So far, she had only taken one youthful life… the drunken boy she now knew was called James.

  He still didn’t understand what had happened. He thought that he was still drunk. It amused her to watch him try and leave the house. He would get about 50 yards from the door and then bounce back with a bemused look on his face. It was fun, but she needed him to submit to give her his full power.

  He was fighting her still, unlike the first two who had accepted their fate.

  Geoffrey had even welcomed it and would become her most trusted acolyte in time. He believed that he had been saved, transformed, and he savored the darkness.

  Mary was not so pliable and was stronger than she looked. The fool sympathized with Rosie, but that would come to nothing. Rosie was fading and soon she would be naught but a memory.

  Matron locked the door and walked up the stairs. Passing the bedroom and the table with the horrible fake flowers, she walked to the room that Rosie hated. It was the one she had shared with Clive. Matron hadn’t been able to get all the details about her relationship, but she knew that Rosie was scared of the man.

  In this room she had made an altar. It wasn’t much, but it bound her spirits, her souls to this house and it gave her power.

  A small table was covered with her black altar cloth and on the wall behind it was a pentagram. Drawn in Mary’s blood. It dripped occasionally as though it were a living thing.

  On the table were two candle sticks in black, and her book. It was open to a blank page. Sitting down she picked up a pen, wanting to record the day’s events, but she hesitated, dropping the pen. What had happened today was the closest she had come to failure and she would not record it. She would never fail.

  Closing her eyes, she pushed back fear and despair. These were things she should inflict, not suffer. Rosie, that foolish girl, was the cause of all her problems. She had to break her will.

  It had been harder than she expected keeping Rosie from taking control. Fatigue weighed heavy on her shoulders, like wet furs that dragged her down. To control Rosie, she needed more… more lives, more souls, and one of them had to be Amy’s. Would she come?

  Matron delved into her mind searching for Rosie’s thoughts. The fool thought that she was hiding from her, but she didn’t understand. Matron knew all, felt all, and understood all.

  So she pushed and shoved against the barrier in her mind, searching for the weak link that would snap and let her in. All she wanted was to find out if Amy would come.

  Silence filled her mind… silence and nothing. Whatever Rosie was doing was keeping her out and it drove Matron wild.

  Tell me!” she screamed in Rosie’s mind. Tell me when she will come

  Nothing.

  Matron launched herself from the room and ran down the stairs to the insipid kitchen. Rage filled her and she looked for someone to hurt. There was no one about, no one outside on the streets. Fury filled her and she swept everything off the counter.

  A cacophony of crashes and bangs echoed off the dull beige walls and rattled against the blood-red blind as canisters of coffee, tea, and sugar hit the tiled floor. The more they crashed, the more intense her fury, and they were followed by mugs, a teapot, and a potted spider plant.

  Wrath controlled Matron as she tore pictures from the walls and threw them to the floor. Opening a cupboard, she swept all the cups from the shelves. Seeing them fly through the air filled her with satisfaction, but as they crashed to the floor her, legs gave way and she crumpled down and landed amid the debris.

  Weakness sucked her down like quicksand would capture an unwary animal. At first she struggled, afraid of the way it pulled her toward oblivion as it lulled, soothed, and pacified. Soon she welcomed, not having to think or to fight the noise and bustle of this new world, and she succumbed to the darkness that was nothing. Just for a little while, she would rest.

  Rosie felt Matron let go and took full control of her body for the first time in a long while. Her hunger was no longer painful. It had been hard ignoring her need to eat, and difficult hiding the meaning of the pain, but it was worth it. Matron was exhausted, malnourished, and weak.

  Now all she had to decide was how she could take advantage of the situation.

  As if in answer, a dark shadow crossed the room and stopped just in front of her. Slowly it formed into the shape of an old lady. Out of the darkness she could see the hint of pink and a smile.

  “Can we stop her killing?” Amy asked.

  Jesse understood the unasked question. Could they save Rosie… could they rid her of the possession, or would they have to kill them both? It was a question he was not ready to answer, but even a slight hesitation here might cause them the loss of Amy’s help, and so he lied. “Yes, we will be able to exorcise the Old Hag from your friend. Rosie will be fine.”

  A greasy coil of guilt turned in his stomach like a snake settling down for the duration. It made him want to quit. To run from here and to give in.

  Trust your instincts and reach for your power.

  He remembered the words Sylvia had spoken not ten minutes ago. Gail was his power; was that what Sylvia meant? It didn’t feel right. Did she mean that he still had his talent? That he could become sensitive again?

  It was what he had wanted since that day. Since the meeting with the Black-Eyed Children, the death of his grandfather, and the loss of his talent. All his life since then he had been searching to regain his abilities, and now Sylvia had hinted that he may be blocking himself. No, it couldn’t be true. But even if it was, he had to help Rosie and there was no time to rediscover his abilities. Speed was of the essence if they were to prevent the Old Hag from taking more lives — but the question was how?

  Trust your instincts and reach for your power.

  It sounded so simple and yet he knew it would be anything but. For now he would trust his instincts and he would be careful.

  “We need to go and see Rosie,” he said, “but we have to prepare first. Can you give us the address and please make sure you don’t go to see her? S
he may try and cajole you into visiting, but it is of the utmost importance that you don’t. At the moment, she wants you dead. Needs you dead. Do you understand?”

  Amy shook her head, and the color drained from her face. “I have to be there; I can help.”

  Jesse was about to say no when Gail touched his leg.

  “You can come, but it will be hard, harrowing, and possibly dangerous,” Gail said. “If you understand all that, and do exactly as we say, then we will take you with us.”

  Jesse bit down on the retort that was perched on the edge of his tongue. Having Amy there would make things much worse and it would be extremely dangerous. There was a possibility that Old Hag would jump from one person to the next. Hopefully, he and Gail would be safe. They wore protection, but it was wrong for Gail to suggest this. Maybe he needed to talk to her and tell her not to speak unless she checked with him first.

  As he had that thought he felt heat hit his cheeks. If he had said that aloud she would smack him around the head, a proper Gibbs slap, and he would deserve it.

  Amy was nodding. “I will do what you ask.”

  “That means leaving if we ask, too,” Gail said.

  Amy nodded.

  Jesse bit back his anger and they all left the café. “We will meet back here in one hour,” he said. “If we are late, wait; do not go see her alone.”

  Amy nodded.

  Soon Jesse climbed into the jeep and turned the car away from the town. He wasn’t going home. All he needed was the time to talk to Gail and to prepare them both. His car was packed with everything they needed and lots they didn’t. Cold spot meters, infra-red cameras, EMF meters were all redundant. They knew a spirit was there and all they had to do was exorcise it.

  All!

  Jesse found a quiet road and pulled over. He was still angry and still wanted to stop Amy coming with them, but he didn’t know how to broach the subject.

  A hand reached out and touched his shoulder. Looking at Gail, he could see that she knew she had upset him.

  Her brown eyes were defiant and yet worried, and his heart melted. He couldn’t be angry with her, but he had to explain the danger she had put Amy in.

  Before he could talk she cut him off with a raised hand.

  “I know you don’t want Amy to come, but she wasn’t going to give us the address unless we invited her.”

  “I could have gotten it out of her,” Jesse snapped.

  “You’re right, you probably could have... but could you get the Old Hag to open the door for us?”

  43

  Amy sat in the back of the Jeep, deathly quiet and ghostly pale.

  Jesse caught a glance of her in the rearview mirror. Had it been the right decision to bring her? Seeing her here, her hair so fashionable and chic. So confident, and yet now she bit her lip and fear widened her eyes. Knowing they were taking her into danger curdled his stomach and made his jaw ache. But now he had had a chance to think about it, he understood Gail’s logic. They needed the Old Hag to let them in and the spirit wanted Amy.

  Gail sat in the passenger seat. Her hand constantly went to her neck and the turquoise necklace hanging there. Just two days ago he had dipped that necklace and the black bracelet he wore in holy water while blessing them both. It cleansed them, giving them protective properties, and helped prevent the wearer from being possessed. Maybe they should have gotten something similar for Amy.

  It was all he could do to not turn around as he remembered a time when Gail had been possessed. Her talent was so strong that he thought she would never succumb, and he had made the mistake of leaving her vulnerable. Was he making the same mistake here?

  There was so much to think about. Amy had insisted on coming, Gail had agreed. He was the one with no power and he had to go along with the decision. All he had was experience and knowledge — would that be enough?

  The acid in his stomach told him everything he needed to know. They were in trouble.

  They had to force the spirit out of Rosie and it may try to control Amy. Why had he allowed her to come? Maybe they could leave her outside. Maybe he could help protect her with what they had in the car. The thoughts circled his brain like a never-ending carousel. Round and round until they all blended into one.

  “Jesse!” Gail called. “We’re here.”

  Jesse knew that if he didn’t take control, then Gail would. She was strong, full of natural talent, and excited about the spirit world. It was still new to her and she had beaten everything she had faced. Exuding confidence, she was ready for battle, but would it be enough?

  “Good.” He jumped from the Jeep and went to the back. Opening up the door, he looked inside. All the equipment was at the back. They wouldn’t need that.

  “We don’t need meters,” Gail said. “We should just go in. I feel that time is running short.”

  Jesse put his hand on her arm. “We go in, but we do this my way. We go in prepared and we stay safe.”

  “Does Rosie have time for this?” Amy’s eyes were wide and defiant, but tears had dried on her cheeks.

  “We can’t help her if we’re dead.” Jesse turned from the women and searched through the compartments he had filled over the years. In the bottom somewhere were some velvet bags and some copper wiring. He found them and then searched for a crystal and some white sage. It didn’t take long. Everything was neatly sorted and stored. The order gave him confidence.

  Piling the bits he had found into the velvet bag, he grabbed three bottles of holy water and splashed some onto the drawstring bag. Handing one bottle to both women he stowed the third in his pocket. Holding the bag in his left hand he closed his.

  “Hurry,” Amy said, and started toward the house.

  Without opening his eyes Jesse, reached out and grabbed her arm. He pulled her back. “We will do this right.”

  Feeling her relax, he let go and breathed deeply. Going inside he trusted his instincts and waited. The urge to call on his spirit guides was strong even though he knew they wouldn’t appear. “Oh guides who protect me, lend me your energies and give me your power to conquer the evil we are about to face.”

  The feeling of strength and healing light filled him, and so did confidence. Maybe he did have something to offer here.

  “Bless and cleanse this totem and keep safe all who wear it. Guide them to find the truth and the place of light. Guide me to send this spirit back to the darkness and to keep Rosie safe.”

  At the mention of that name, so similar to that of his most loving spirit guide, his dog, he felt Rose join him. She sat before him, her tongue hanging out of her big black face. Many people would say dogs can’t smile, but she was surely happy to be there, and he was instantly enveloped in her love.

  “Keep us safe as we enter the darkness and guide us to the light.” Shaking his head he sent her his love.

  Opening his eyes he could see the women looking at him. They were staring and he knew that his confidence was high. Something had changed, and although none of them knew what it was, they could all feel it.

  Taking the totem bag, he tied it to a string and gave it to Amy. For a moment it looked as if she would disagree. His hand hung between them, the little bag swinging. Jesse wouldn’t pull back. She either wore it or she stayed out, and maybe she saw his resolve, as she accepted the bag and tied it around her neck.

  “Okay, let’s do this,” he said.

  Amy approached the door first and knocked. “Hey Rosie, I’m here.”

  They waited. The house was dark, too dark, and standing beneath its shadow filled them with a feeling of foreboding.

  Ignoring the chill, Jesse reached out and tried the handle. It was sealed; they were not getting in without the Old Hag’s help.

  Amy knocked again. “Rosie, you wanted to see me… well, I’m here.”

  Rosie could hear her friend at the door. With all her heart she wanted to let her in, but she knew she couldn’t. Matron had made it clear that she wanted Amy dead and she knew that she didn’t have the power t
o stop her. Hunger, fatigue, and the constant pain had all taken its toll. Even at her strongest, she doubted she could fight the spirit, but now she had little chance – no chance, if she was honest. Mary had helped her, offered her hope, and given her a way out. She trusted she would have the strength to carry it through. But, if Amy got in and Matron took more souls, then all would be lost.

  Ignoring her friends, she went upstairs to make the final arrangements. Quickly throwing a few items into her a bag, including Clive’s cut-throat razor, she searched for her phone.

  At last she found it, and was pleased that the battery still had some power... enough to send a text.

  Amy, I love you, but I have a plan.

  I can’t explain, but I have to do this alone.

  Please leave.

  Thank you for always being there.

  Rosie xxx

  Once that was done, she sat down in the corner of the room and waited. The knocking on the door stopped and she let out a sigh. Amy would do as she asked. Soon this would be over and her friend would be safe.

  “Rosie, come on, we need to talk,” Amy said, as she knocked on the door again. A buzz from her phone stopped her and she pulled it from her pocket. “Oh!”

  “What?” Gail asked.

  Amy showed them both the text. “We can’t leave her, can we?” Amy’s eyes were so big in her white face that she looked like an Anime doll.

  “No, we can’t leave, but you can,” Jesse said. “Your friend is fighting and it’s clear she won’t let you in. If we act quickly before the spirit regains control, then we have a chance.”

  “I won’t leave.” Amy folded her arms and blocked the way. “I can help you. I can get through to her.”