LeRoux Manor

by Liz Butcher

  “And it’s not just the storm,” Jayne said through a few sniffles. “It’s the weird earthquake and the lights and—”

  “You did want to spend the night here...” Jonathan said with a shrug. Both Jayne and Grace shot him annoyed looks. “What? She did.”

  “What... what happened to those cuts you had?” Jayne asked, momentarily side-tracked as she pointed at Camille.

  “Uh, so... I have no idea what happened, to be honest. I was kind of in a lot of pain when we left the room, but by the time we reached my parents, it was like nothing had happened.”

  “This isn’t happening!” Jayne screeched, burying her face in Lachlan’s chest.

  “Look,” Camille said, trying to ignore the way Jayne clung to Lachlan. She sat on the edge of the bed next to Grace instead. “I’ll admit it’s been pretty scary. I can’t explain what’s going on any better than you guys can. But the storm seems to be passing, and once it does, I’m pretty sure we’ll all be a little more level-headed. So how about for now, we just try to ignore it and wait it out?”

  “Sounds good to me.” Jonathan tossed the cushions off the bed and led Grace toward them. He flopped back onto the floor, pummelling the cushions around him and making himself comfortable. Grace waited for him to finish before she sat down beside him. "While you too were gone,” he added, “I was thinking about something.”

  “About what?” Camille asked, grateful for the distraction. She forced herself not to look at Jayne still clutching Lachlan to her.

  “What if your uncle did come here... but never left?” Jonathan asked Lachlan.

  “What do you mean?” Lachlan gently unlatched Jayne’s arms from around his waist and guided her back to their circle, where he then sat between Jonathan and Camille. Pouting, Jayne was forced to sit between Grace and Camille, who was now hyper-aware of being on obstacles in Jane’s path to Lachlan. But her heartbeat picked up at the same time, knowing she sat so close to him again.

  “Well, we know that he’d planned to come to the manor and spend some time here,” Jonathan continued, completely oblivious to the additional drama unfolding before him. “It was a huge opportunity for him, so there’s no way he would’ve passed it up, right? But what if we don’t just assume he left after that? Like I said, what if he came to the manor... and whatever happened to him happened right here?” Everyone else stared at him in surprise. “What?” He leaned back on his elbows. “I can chill and pay attention at the same time.” That brought a few chuckles before the mood dampened again.

  “So, you’re saying you think he died here?” Lachlan asked with a frown.

  “Yeah. I mean, I know it’s a shit scenario to consider, since he was your uncle. But it makes sense to me. We know he couldn’t have helped himself if he had the opportunity to stay here. And we know no one ever saw him again. Maybe he found something here that got him... you know.”

  “Or maybe someone just didn’t like having a houseguest,” Jayne added.

  “Charles was an old man,” Camille said. “And he was seriously unwell. Physically. I can’t see him killing anyone.”

  “Your family also didn’t know him that well,” Jayne said. “We probably know as much about him as you do.”

  Camille tilted her head in concession.

  “It might not have even been Charles LeRoux who did it,” Grace added. “Assuming there was a murder.”

  “What are you saying?” Camille asked, shuddering as though an icy hand had brushed against the base of her neck.

  “Well, he wasn’t the only person living here, was he?”

  The room fell silent again at that, with only the sound of thunder and the rattling windows to cut up the tension.

  A much louder crack of thunder trembled through the room, and Jayne leapt to her feet. “That’s it! I can’t stay here in this murder-ghost house!”

  Camille and Grace jumped up on either side of her. “You’re okay,” Camille said. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. It’s just a theory, and it was a really long time ago. And there aren’t any ghosts here. Just a storm. It’ll pass.”

  “Don’t let it get to you,” Grace added, rubbing Jayne’s back. “Once the storm’s over, you’ll have a good laugh about this. I promise.”

  “And if you still want to go home after that, I know Mum or Dad wouldn’t mind driving you back into town. I just don’t think it would be very safe to head out right now.”

  “They’re right, Jayne,” Lachlan added. “Come sit back down. We might as well pass the time doing something constructive, right?”

  Jayne glanced at him, then gave him a pitiful nod and reluctantly sank to the floor, shifting her cushion to be as close to his as she could get.

  “Okay, so what do you all think about my idea?” Jonathan asked.

  “I guess it sounds plausible,” Lachlan replied. “Not that I really want to think about him dying here... Look, to be honest, I never knew the guy. But he was still my uncle. And I’d still like to know what happened to him. For my family’s sake. For my Dad. But I can’t see any way to prove or disprove your theory.”

  Jonathan shrugged. “Yeah, you’ve got me there.”

  “So, where do we go from here?” Grace asked. “It feels like we’ve just hit another dead end.”

  Camille was only half listening. Because she thought she heard something else between the claps of rolling thunder. Something that shouldn’t be there.

  “Camille?” Grace asked. The others stopped talking and eyed her warily.

  “Camille?” Lachlan said.

  She lifted a hand to silence him and cocked her head, listening intently. “Can you guys hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Jayne asked, her eyes shifting anxiously around the room.

  Camille wanted to scream at the storm when the sky rumbled again overhead, but she waited for the noise to die down so she could keep listening.

  “Wait. I think I just heard something.” Lachlan got to his feet again. “It’s like a scratching, scrapping sound, right? Is that what you heard?”

  Camille nodded. “I thought it was all just in my head.” She got up too, and the others just stared at her in bewilderment.

  “I don’t hear it, dude,” Jonathan said. “How can anyone hear anything over this storm?”

  “Where is it coming from?” Grace asked.

  “Not sure...” Lachlan glanced at Camille, and she shrugged.

  Then the sound came again, and she walked past her friends toward the opposite side of the room—and the wardrobe. Pausing, she listened for it again, but the noise had stopped. Just as she was about to give up and return to the cushions, there it was. Looking up at Lachlan with wide eyes, she nodded.

  He hurried to join her and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “To try recording it,” he said.

  “Hey, I want to hear it too.” Jonathan forced himself to his feet and pulled Grace with him by the hand. Jayne quickly followed.

  Huddling together around the wardrobe, they listened for the sound. Camille wished the storm would hurry up and pass so they could work out what the hell that noise was without being interrupted. The next time the scratching caught her attention, she almost jumped at how much louder it was.

  “Yeah, I definitely heard that,” Grace said. “What was it?”

  Originally, Camille had thought it came from the wardrobe. But this time, it seemed to be in the wall beside it. She took a step closer and placed her hand on the wall.

  “Great. So now there are ghosts in the walls too,” Jayne muttered, folding her arms.

  “Hardly,” Lachlan said. “It’s probably an animal that got in trying to escape the storm.” He turned away from Jayne and placed his hand on the wall. Camille met his gaze and realised he didn’t believe his own words for a second. That part terrified her. She knew, deep down, that it wasn’t an animal, either. The memory of hearing the voice beyond the wall behind her bed came back to her and made her shiver.

  “Wait! Did you hear it that time?” Jonathan a
sked, startling Camille out of her own recollections.

  “Yeah. But that sounded like it came farther down the wall.” Lachlan stepped around Camille to stand on her left.

  “Wait, what?” she asked.

  “Listen.” He gently grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to the wall. Hesitantly, they both placed their ears against the plaster, facing each other.

  “You two are nuts...” Jonathan forced a laugh that fell completely flat. The sound repeated, much louder with their ears against the wall. Camille and Lachlan jumped at the same time.

  “How is it getting louder?” Jayne asked.

  “Maybe it’s not,” Grace suggested. “Maybe the storm’s just getting quieter.” Her theory was punctuated by an enormous triple-clap of thunder reverberating through the whole room. Camille felt it through the wall too.

  The scrabbling, scratching sound rose again. “I think it’s moving...” Lachlan looked down the wall, following the sound with his phone. It sounded like it was moving in a straight line across the wall, remaining at about chest height.

  “What kind of animal would move like that?” Jayne asked, taking a step back so she was half-hidden behind Grace.

  “None that I know of,” Lachlan replied.

  “Where is it going?” Grace asked as the sound reached the corner of the wall before turning to travel toward her bedroom door. Camille and Lachlan hurried to follow it and stopped with it at the doorway, peering out into the dark hall.

  “Jonathan, can you grab a couple of those torches please?” Lachlan asked.

  “I really don’t like this...” Jayne’s voice quivered.

  Lachlan shushed her and didn’t turn around even as Jonathan handed him a torch. Camille looked back to see the hurt in Jayne’s eyes and did her best to give the girl a reassuring smile.

  “Wait. Did you hear that?” Lachlan pointed right—across the hallway. “I think it’s moving that way on the other side. We’re getting closer.” He flicked Wendy blinked three times before opening her eyes as wide as she could. on his torch and stepped out into the hall with Camille right behind him.

  “Can we wait here?” Jayne asked, but Grace grabbed her by the hand and pulled her along.

  When Camille reached the light switch, she realised the power must be out everywhere now; she flipped the switch on and off, but nothing happened.

  Lachlan ran the beam of his torch along the wall and over the closed door closest to him. “What’s this room?” he asked.

  “Another bedroom. We haven’t really been in any of these rooms much. Just mine, the one you’re staying in tonight, and the bathroom. Mum’s been focusing on the main floor first.”

  Lachlan nodded absently, and the sound rose quite loudly again, dragging along the wall in front of them before starting across the wooden bedroom door. Camille reached out, quickly twisted the knob, and shoved open the door. They swung their torches across the room, ignoring Jayne’s whimpers of protest behind them. There was nothing here but dusty, sheet-covered furniture.

  “Wait, it’s still out here!” Grace said. Camille and Lachlan hurried back into the hall. The sound moved faster, forcing them to almost jog if they wanted to keep up down the hall.

  The sound reached the corner at the end of the hall and without pause continued into the adjacent wall across the landing. Then it disappeared again down the hall of the opposite wing. “This is so wrong...” Camille muttered.

  “What’s down there?” Lachlan asked, picking up the pace.

  “Just more rooms.” She frowned in realisation. “And the door to the attic.” Lachlan shot her a quick look. She wasn’t surprised at all when the scraping sound ended at the door to the attic stairs.

  “Wait.” Lachlan grabbed her arm when she reached for the door. Then he lifted his phone to remind her he wanted to catch whatever it was on audio and stepped in front of her.

  “Do we really have to go up there?” Jayne asked.

  Camille paused with one step on the staircase and turned around. “No, of course not. You can wait here.” Before she took another step, a loud creak came from the darkness above them.

  “Shh...”

  “I didn’t say anything,” Camille whispered without turning around.

  “Neither did we,” Grace added, her whisper laced with fear.

  Camille slowly turned her head to look at her friends, hoping one of them was playing a prank.

  “Who—”

  The attic thumped above them, like someone was running across the floor toward the staircase. The footsteps raced with increasing speed right toward the top of the stairs, then thundered down them toward the landing. Camille felt the thick churn of air as something rushed past her. Her panic and confusion made her leap back, but she lost her footing and fell down the few stairs to the hallway floor.

  “Camille!” Grace jumped toward her. “Are you okay?”

  Camille took her friend’s outstretched hand and accepted the help back to her feet. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “What the hell was that?” Jonathan peered up the attic stairs before looking up and down the hall.

  “You guys heard that?” Camille asked with equal parts surprise and relief.

  “We sure did.” Lachlan paused his recording and lowered his phone. “Shame we couldn’t see anything, though.”

  “Maybe your phone picked up something we didn’t catch,” Jayne suggested, stepping toward him.

  “You know, like in the movies.”

  “That’s not a bad idea.” Lachlan lifted his phone again and opened the clip. “Woah. I think I actually have something.” He looked up at the others with wide eyes, and curiosity got the better of Camille. She hurried to his side for a look. It’s just the last part when you fell,” he told her then pressed play again. Something flashed across the screen at the moment Camille tumbled backwards, but nothing was clear.

  “I don’t know, man,” Jonathan said. “That could just be a trick of the light or some dust or something.”

  “Can you replay it in slow motion?” Jayne said, leaning toward Lachlan and his phone.

  He altered the settings as she suggested and played the footage back in slow motion. “Woah...”

  Camille heard the hush followed by the footsteps as clearly recorded as if they’d come from a real person. The minute she fell backward on camera, a young girl rushed past her, grinning. The screen flickered when the child’s hair flashed from black, to white, to black again. Even creepier was the moment the apparition looked right at the camera and giggled. That was also plainly audible, though none of them had heard it the first time. Then she was gone.

  “Give us a look,” Jonathan asked, and Lachlan handed him and Grace the phone.

  “Okay, call me officially freaked out,” Grace said.

  “What, only now?” Jayne obviously tried to make a joke, but it sounded more like she was on the brink of hysteria. “So, do you think... I mean, was that...”

  “Yeah, that was Mena,” Camille said.

  “Shit,” Lachlan whispered. “I can’t believe we actually got something.”

  “Isn’t that what you wanted?” Camille asked.

  “Yeah, of course. I just didn’t think we would actually get something concrete. This is an actual, legitimate apparition sighting. We have to get this up on your blog.”

  Camille sighed and turned away from him.

  “Are you still planning on checking out the attic?” Grace asked, taking Jonathan’s hand.

  Camille looked at Lachlan; his bravado was gone now. “No. I think we should call it for tonight.” She led them back to her room, ignoring the fact that Lachlan had started recording again. As they turned down the corridor of her wing, the light flickered on just long enough for them to catch a glimpse of something on the wall.

  “Did you guys see that?” Jayne asked.

  Camille nodded before realising it was still dark. “Yeah. I have to admit, I’m not super keen to raise my torch for a better look.”

  “We’
ll do it together.” Grace stepped up beside Camille, pulling Jonathan with her. Lachlan stood on Camille’s other side, his phone ready, and Jayne took her place as close to him as she could get.

  “Okay. One, two, three.” They raised their torches. Jayne and Grace screamed and dropped theirs, leaving Camille and Jonathan to scan the wall alone. Camille barely heard Lachlan swear beside her as he took it all in via the phone.

  “That wasn’t there before, was it?” Jayne whimpered.

  Camille couldn’t answer as she passed her torch over it again. Scratched into the wall before them were the words ‘Get them out.’

  “Who else thinks it’s a good idea to take that advice?” Jayne asked.

  A loud crash echoed down the hall. Light spilled across the floor from the bathroom, flickering off and on every few seconds. Camille took off toward it.

  “Camille, wait up!” Lachlan tried to run after her while also recording everything on his phone. Camille stepped into the bathroom and found the large bathroom mirror shattered and shards of glass all over the floor. She leaned over a piece large enough to see her reflection—only something didn’t feel right. In the broken mirror, she saw herself as she was now and herself as an old woman at the same time. Her eyes widened in horror when a thick black thread appeared from nowhere in the mirror and sewed her reflection’s mouth shut in three ugly X shapes. Camille’s reflection moved when she did not, trying to shake the thread off lips that weren’t hers. When Camille reached out, though, her reflection did the same, shaking her head faster and faster until the movement became a blur. A high-pitched screech filled the bathroom.

  “Camille?” Grace grabbed her arm. The shriek cut off abruptly, and Camille realised the sound had come from her.

  “Can you see that?” She pointed down at the glass.

  “See what? Our reflections?” Grace asked as Lachlan stepped into the bathroom behind them.

  “That’s all you see? Just our normal reflections? Nothing weird?”

  Grace shrugged. “Nope. I just see you and me. Admittedly, we’ve both looked better. But other than that, it’s just us.”