Beaconfield

by Bri R. Leclerc

  “Oh, you’re okay,” Ridge said with a sigh. He was checking West over, looking him up and down.

  “Yeah,” West said slowly. “I’m . . . I think . . .” He paused and stared at Ridge and me. His body twitched slightly and a cold breeze blew through the graveyard.

  I pulled Ridge away from West. “Something is about to happen,” I said. “I can feel it.”

  West closed his eyes then and held his head in his hands. When he opened his eyes again, I peeked down to see what color they were.

  White.

  I scrambled away from the monster and pulled Ridge with me. He whimpered under his breath as he saw what his brother had returned to.

  “You thought you would be rid of me that easily?” the woman’s voice asked.

  “Run!” I yelled, grabbing at Ridge’s arm. I limped as fast as I could, feeling the ache in my ankle. Ridge was behind me, coaxing me along, and West was behind him.

  “Follow me, I know where we can hide,” Ridge whispered in my ear and then took off running. I sucked up my pain and ran after him, hissing with each step. But the sounds of West behind me made me push harder.

  West seemed to be slowing down as I was speeding up. Soon Ridge and I had lost him, but I knew that it could’ve been a trick.

  I nearly screamed when someone grabbed my arm. I was pulled to the side and through a door. The door shut quickly behind me.

  “It’s me,” said Ridge’s voice.

  It was dark in the room. The only light was coming through the small crack in the door. But I knew it was the mausoleum. I saw the outlines of two independent crypts in the center of the room. The floor was covered in dirt and dried leaves. It smelled of mildew, burnt candles, and a little bit of death.

  I took a step closer to Ridge and wrapped my arms around his waist. I pulled him into me and rested my head on his chest. We waited. I listened to the sound of Ridge’s heart beating rapidly. It began to slow and then it was more normal.

  We both flinched as we heard footsteps outside the door.

  The wind blew under the door, rustling the leaves on the floor. I felt the breeze on my ankles and shivered. I drew Ridge closer to me. I heard his heartbeat pick up again.

  Outside, we heard the sound of feet crunching through leaves. He would stop every few seconds and pause, listening for us. I covered my mouth with my hand to dampen the sound of my ragged breathing.

  We waited.

  Then West was gone, and the only sound I could hear was the dripping of water in the corner of the crypt.

  I leaned back and looked up at Ridge, who was looking down at me. The adrenaline of nearly being found was pulsing through us. The breath left my lungs as Ridge moved closer. There was a moment where we just looked at each other, and then he kissed me. I melted into him, sighing as I pushed my mouth harder against his. The struggles of the past day floated away and it was just the two of us, alone.

  He pulled me closer to him and put a hand on my neck. I felt my skin tingle at his touch, and returned the gesture by placing my hands on his lower back, feeling his warmth beneath my palms.

  He leaned closer. His breath was hot on my face and he smelled like peppermint. I licked my lips and glanced down at his, which were slightly parted. I wanted every bit of him in that moment.

  Ridge seemed to want the same. He pushed me back against the rough concrete wall. I wrapped my hands around his neck and he lifted me up, using the wall as support.

  All the feelings from our childhood came flooding back. I was inundated with a sense of euphoria. We were transported to another time, back to a happier and brighter Beaconfield. With his mouth on mine I felt solid and whole.

  We forget all about what was happening just outside the door and the bodies all around us in the mausoleum.

  Ridge pulled away from me slightly but I pulled his face in for more. This was the most real thing that had happen to us in days and I needed him.

  We kissed for a few more moments and then the feeling faded and we returned to the mausoleum. Ridge and I stared at each other in the faint light. I let my legs slip from around him and I returned to the ground. My lips were still on fire, tingling out of desire. It was just then that I remembered we were surrounded by dead people.

  “Can we get out of here?” Ridge asked quietly, almost reading my mind.

  “Please. This place gives me the creeps.”

  The graveyard definitely wasn’t my favorite place anymore. I’d enjoyed coming here as a kid, but after running for my life from a possessed West, I didn’t want to be here at all.

  “What year did Elizabeth die?” Ridge asked me.

  “1836,” I recalled.

  Ridge nodded and then directed us to that part of the graveyard. I followed, watching my surroundings. I felt a blush creep up to my cheeks thinking about the kiss that Ridge and I had shared. I was glad that Ridge was ahead of me so that he couldn’t see my embarrassment. I also hoped that we wouldn’t be haunted by the ghosts in the mausoleum for making out in their eternal home.

  “I think this is it,” Ridge said when he stopped.

  Elizabeth Marie Harp

  June 11, 1810 - November 22, 1836

  He put the shovel on the ground beside the grave and stood back to look at the headstone. I threw the crowbar down and sighed loudly as I grabbed the shovel. I rolled up my sleeves and started digging.

  Ridge and I took turns digging the grave, and when we weren’t digging, we kept our heads on a swivel, looking out for West. It was still cold, but the physical effort kept me warm. I was digging fast and trying to get big shovelfuls of dirt. I wanted this over with as fast as possible.

  As we dug, we were distracted by the sounds around us. There were creaks and cracks and sounds of animals. I tried to get them out of my mind, but I couldn’t help but picture the white eyes of West.

  I slammed the shovel down and heard a thunk. I looked at Ridge, my mouth hanging open. I continued digging faster. Finally, we uncovered the coffin. I swiped the dirt away from the plaque on the front of it.

  She was waiting for her prince.

  I grabbed the crowbar from the edge of the hole and jammed the end into the seam. I took a deep breath and said, “Here we go.”

  I cracked the top of the coffin open. We coughed simultaneously and shied away from the dust and mildew of the contents.

  Covering my nose with my sleeve, I leaned down and opened the coffin. I was surprised to see that there was more than one body in the casket.

  “Who is that?” Ridge asked, leaning over the hole. There were three bodies in one casket.

  There was a man’s body on top of what looked to be Elizabeth, and next to them was a bundle of old blankets. I felt my heart squeeze as I realized that the bundle was the child of Elizabeth Harp, the one that only had a date of death.

  “It’s the Harps,” I gasped aloud. “But why are they here?” I wiped sweat from my brow.

  “Bury me with what means most . . .” Ridge said under his breath. “Mari, what if your grandad put them in here?”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “That was his interpretation of what the ghost wanted. Bury me with what means most. Your grandad thought she meant her family.”

  “How is she back now? Because West opened the door to this world?”

  “Maybe. What do we do now?” Ridge asked, running a dirty hand through his hair.

  We stood there, staring over the bodies of the Harp family. Suddenly, the sky grew darker than it was before and a breeze blew through the graveyard. On the wind there were sounds of a woman screaming.

  Ridge shivered and said, “She’s here.”

  I scrambled out of the grave and hung onto Ridge. He wrapped his arms around me. A cold breeze whipped around us, my hair blowing in my face and cooling the sweat on my arms. Ridge pulled me closer to him.

  The wind continued blowing, making a twister, kicking up dirt and dead leaves. It was circling around and around, getting closer to us. I thought it was going
to go right through us, but it stopped and hovered over the grave.

  “What’s happening?” I asked. I had to shout over the sound of the wind.

  “I don’t know,” Ridge said back, squinting to keep the dirt from flying into his eyes.

  After the words were out of his mouth the wind stopped. The graveyard had suddenly become silent. The lack of noise rang in my ears. We looked to each other, clueless.

  “You’ve found me.” The voice pierced through me, making me shiver.

  I turned to see West with his white eyes standing behind us.

  Ridge and I started to take a few steps back as West approached us, getting ready for the chase. I took a step backward and felt myself begin to flail as I fell into the grave. I let out a scream as I felt myself fall and then I was jerked to a stop. Ridge was holding on to my wrist.

  He pulled me toward him.

  West pounced.

  Ridge and I spun on our heels ran in the opposite direction. We weaved in and out of the headstones, trying not to slip on the decaying leaves on the ground. As we ran through the graveyard, a light fog descended over us. I couldn’t see more than five feet in front of me, but I continued to run.

  We came to a crossroads: one path to the right, one to the left.

  “You go that way. I’ll meet you at the front gate,” Ridge said, looking behind him for his brother. I nodded and started to the right. I’d gotten about twenty strides before I heard Ridge’s scream behind me. I slid to a stop and stared through the mist. I couldn’t see him anymore.

  I knew I should’ve run, but I needed to keep him safe. I ran back for him. I approached cautiously, squinting my eyes against the fog. I came upon a struggling mass of bodies in front of me.

  Ridge was on his stomach, trying to crawl away as West sat on his back, clawing at him, just as the grave keeper had done.

  “Ridge!” I yelled, running toward them. I jumped and tackled West to the ground, giving Ridge enough time to get up. He winced, his back now bleeding through his shirt.

  West overpowered me and flipped me over. I protected my face but I didn’t need to, because I felt his weight leave me as Ridge tackled him. They wrestled with each other until West grew stronger than he should’ve been. He pulled his older brother off the ground and threw him to the side. Ridge flew like a rag doll and his head cracked when his forehead hit a large headstone.

  He lay still.

  It was quiet again.

  I looked down on the ground in front of me. The pentacle ring lay there in the dirt. It’d fallen off of Ridge in the struggle. I gasped and scrambled away from West.

  He glared at me. A disturbing smile spread across his face. “All alone now,” Elizabeth said.

  I turned left and then right, trying to decide which way to run. My heart dropped into my stomach. I was trapped. There was nowhere to go. Elizabeth had won, and she knew it.

  “I want you to hurt like I hurt.”

  I shivered at her threat.

  “I hadn’t recognized you at first. When you said we were related, everything fell into place. I finally saw myself in your eyes and dark hair. You look like me, almost exactly like me when I cast myself from the top of Lavender Light. I nearly got you all those years ago in the Light. I made my way inside of you, controlling every piece of you. I made you hold yourself over the edge, and I was just about to let you go before your mother saved you. Ah, a mother’s love.” West sneered at me.

  “Oh, shit,” I said under my breath. Elizabeth had tried to kill me the last time I was in Beaconfield. “Why?”

  “You represent everything I never had. I lost my child and my husband, never to have a family. I had to watch my sisters grow happy around me. You’re one of theirs, and I want you . . . to . . . hurt.”

  I felt tears growing in the corner of my eyes. I’d lost West and now Ridge. I didn’t think I could do this on my own. I started thinking of ways out of this, but I came up empty. No one was going to help me out of this, not anymore. Our plan hadn’t worked, and there was no plan B.

  I glanced down at Ridge on the ground. I could faintly see a pool of red forming on his head. He was bleeding. A lot. I would have to leave him behind.

  “Completely alone,” the ghost said.

  I ran. I needed to get out of the graveyard, and fast. I pushed through the pain in my ankle and pumped my arms faster. I cursed the architect who’d decided to fence the whole thing in, giving me no other opportunity for escape.

  I glanced behind me and saw that West wasn’t following me, but I didn’t slow down.

  Through the fog, I could see the outline of the gates. I moved faster. I was so close.

  Then West stepped out in front of me.

  I skidded to a stop. My ankle buckled and nearly threw me to the ground. I caught myself and continued running. I sprinted as fast as I could in the opposite direction. The graveyard was starting to look the same everywhere I looked. This was driving me crazy. I ran in between headstones and around in circles, trying to confuse the ghost and get her off my tail. I looked for something that could help me.

  The mausoleum.

  I saw it out of the corner of my eye. If I could lose the ghost and hide there again, it could give me some time to think about what to do next. I glanced back to see that West was right behind me.

  I pushed myself harder—I hadn’t run like this since middle school track. I directed myself to the part of the graveyard with the most trees to conceal me. I dodged between the leaves, branches, and trunks. I heard the sound of West bumbling through the thick foliage.

  Suddenly, I ran into a large, low-hanging branch. I hissed as it slapped me across the face, scratching my skin. My hand flew to my cheek. I drew it back and saw a spot of blood.

  I came out on the other side and knew that he was far enough behind me. Through the fog and the dull light of the moon, I couldn’t see him anymore. I ran toward the mausoleum. I yanked open the heavy wooden door and closed it behind me. I pressed my ear to the cold door and pulled the knob tight.

  Footsteps grew closer to the door. I held the knob tighter and gritted my teeth. Holding my breath, I waited for the footsteps to pass. They stopped in front of the door. I could hear the sound of West’s labored breathing through the wood.

  I gripped the knob as tightly as I could. I felt him grab it on the other side of the door. I gripped harder. He tried to turn the knob but I turned it the other way, making it seem like the door was locked. He jiggled the handle back and forth, shaking my arms, but I didn’t let go.

  Finally, the shaking stopped, and he walked away. His footsteps were quiet but I could faintly hear them moving in the opposite direction.

  I let go of the knob and let out a breath.

  I ran to the other side of the room and hid behind one of the caskets. I leaned against the cold stone and drew my legs up to my chest. Resting my head on my knees, I took a deep breath to steady myself.

  I listened to the sounds of the graveyard around me, a light wind rustling the leaves and the cawing of a crow. The noise seemed to be echoing off the stone walls of the mausoleum.

  What just happened?

  I needed to sort everything out in my head to figure out what to do next. I was beginning to spiral, and I needed to refocus myself. I took another breath.

  This ghost tried to kill me six years ago and is my great-great-great aunt or something. The ghost has also now taken over both Ridge and West. I have no one to help me. I need to get this done on my own.

  Elizabeth is a ghost who’s now hell-bent on killing me because I’m related to her and she’s upset that she lost her family. Obviously I don’t want her to kill me, so I need to either kill her or distract her long enough to get out of here.

  But getting out of the graveyard wouldn’t help because we couldn’t leave Beaconfield. I didn’t want to leave Ridge and West behind, and there was my grandmother too. That meant I had to get rid of the ghost somehow.

  Elizabeth Harp was related to my grandmother and h
er husband left her to go to work in Nova Scotia but never returned. Shortly after he left, she gave birth to their stillborn child. After that, she was so distraught that she climbed to the top of the lighthouse and killed herself.

  In her will, her one request was that she be buried with what meant most.

  Bury me with what means most.

  And she was. My grandfather had put her family in her grave with her.

  Why wasn’t that enough?

  I thought back to when I’d first encountered my grandmother, and how she’d touched the necklace and snapped out of the kind of spell that she was under. But when West picked up the necklace while being possessed, nothing happened.

  It had to be the necklace.

  “Bury me,” I said aloud. I stood up and brushed the dirt off my jeans.

  Bury me with what means most. She wanted to be buried with the necklace. Just giving it to the spirit wasn’t going to help. She wasn’t of body, she couldn’t touch things. Maybe with West’s body, but not with her own.

  I needed to bury the necklace with her and her family.

  My hand flew to my neck to find that I didn’t have it. I groaned and remembered it being in my pocket. It must’ve fell out during the struggle in front of the grave.

  I needed to find it and bury it to get rid of Elizabeth for good. I had to try to get the courage up to leave the confines of the safe stone room. Behind these four walls I felt that everything I’d dealt with over the past couple of days had all been a nightmare. I looked to the wooden door and thought of the passionate kiss that Ridge and I had shared, but then I thought of the white of his eyes and the ghost that was controlling his body.

  This needed to end. Now.

  I went to the door and took a deep breath before I turned the handle and pushed. I poked my head out, looking right and left for any sign of movement. I squinted through the fog, but I didn’t see anything. I slowly stepped out of the mausoleum.

  Which direction had Elizabeth’s grave been? I’d spent so much time running around the graveyard in circles that I wasn’t confident that I knew where to go from here. I went to the front of a row of graves and looked at the death date on the headstone: 1957. Elizabeth’s grave was deeper in the graveyard—these graves were too new.