Ghosts
All posts tagged Ghosts
The village lies quiet.
But silence doesn’t always mean peace.
Sometimes it means something is watching…
The past does not sleep,
it simply waits for the right moment to return
The darkness is stirring.
When the cellar finally falls silent, the echoes remain. The world above carries on — footsteps on streets, voices in kitchens, the rhythm of ordinary life — but beneath it all lies an absence too heavy to name. Rachael’s voice is gone, yet her fear lingers in the cracks of memory, in the uneasy hush that settles where a child should be. Those who knew her speak less as the years pass, though some cannot help but look over their shoulders when night falls. For the story is not finished. What was taken does not simply vanish. It waits.
The village rests in silence, but silence is never empty. It presses close, listening, waiting. Some shadows don’t simply fall with the night — they move, they breathe, and once you notice them, it is already too late to turn away.
Annie sensed his fear. Its musky, acidic smell surrounded him like an aura. They were alone in the dark and the next move was down to her.
“Do you know who I am,” she asked. “Or why I am here?”
“I know you’re trespassing,” his voice was hoarse, as he brought the back of his hand up to wipe the moisture from his face.
“Then we are alike. You have no claim to this house either.”
“Oh, I get it,” his laugh sounded hollow in the stillness. “You’re one of those bleeding hearts. On some sort of quest, are you?” He jabbed the statue at Annie, pushing her back towards the curtain-less window. “Did the old woman put you up to this?”
“Stop,” Annie pleaded, as for a moment, her fear of the O Brien’s returned.
Liam dropped the statue and grabbed her by the throat. Her back was pressed against the window frame as he moved ever closer. The hand encircling her pressed harder, and she moved up on her toes to try and escape the pressure.
“Let me go,” she croaked. “You are hurting me.”
“This is nothing to what I’m going to do to you. I’ll show you pain that up to now you could only imagine,” Liam’s spittle flew against her face. “You won’t look quite as pretty when I’m done with you.”
His words took her back to that room. She saw once more the gleam of the nails in the chair. Smelt the leather on the restraints and looked on the blood-soaked body of her sister, lit by the light of the brazier. The heat threatened to overwhelm her, but this time the fire was inside her. Liam felt the flesh beneath his hand ripple and ebb, the movement unnatural. He tried to draw back, but terror held him prisoner.
“Fiend,” the voice was no longer that of a young girl. “Betrayer of women; destroyer of the innocent.”
“No,” Liam sobbed, as the flesh he held crackled like dead leaves.
“You bring destruction and death to all and care nothing for the suffering,” Annie continued. “Very well, let us see if you welcome death as freely as you embrace its power.”
The clouds parted and allowed the moon to light the room. Liam screamed into the face pressed against his. The hollow, cobwebby eyes, the jutting bones covered in places by blackened skin, and the putrid breath was toxic.
“So,” Annie smiled at his bulging eyes. “You see me now as I really am. So, tell me, do you still think I am pretty?”
His only answer came from the small trickle of urine that flowed down his legs and dripped onto the floor. He gagged on the stench, and the muscles in his stomach clenched until he thought he would embarrass himself even further. Still, his legs remained like lead.
“And what about my hair?” Annie asked. “Is it not beautiful? Do you not want to touch it?” Reaching up, she ripped some of the matted tendrils from her skull and waved them under his nose. “Go on, run your fingers through it.”
Though the sound of Liam’s screams were as soothing as music, The Dark One grew impatient. He flew towards the attic window and placed his hands on either side of it. All pretence of normality gone; he showed his true features as he roared.
“Kill him. Do it now.”
The demonic face at the window startled the figures silhouetted inside, but it was enough to break the spell and before Annie could regain control, Liam ran screaming down the stairs. Dora, despite her promise, came running to see what the noise was all about. So, the first thing Liam encountered, as he ran along the landing, was the little girl. In his terror and heightened state of awareness, he saw her as she really was. To her he was the monster who’d beaten her to death, and she started to scream. Behind him he heard the slow, shuffling steps on the wooden attic stairs. The thing holding the doll was blocking the stairway, but that didn’t deter him in his flight, and he launched himself over the rail landing awkwardly on the stairs below.
“Go back in there, now,” Annie ordered, and the child scuttled back into the bedroom.
Liam limped down the stairs aware of the footsteps following. The front door loomed in the distance and he gritted his teeth against the pain, as he moved towards it. Twice his sweat-soaked fingers slipped on the latch until finally, with the aid of the storm, it flew open. He had forgotten in his terror, the demon outside. The steps were carpeted with leaves, and he struggled to keep his balance as he climbed down. His injured foot gave way when he reached the rough gravel, and he was forced to grab on to one of the stone sculptures. There were footsteps on the driveway, and he cried with relief. This was short lived when he saw who it was, he screamed again and brought a hand up to protect his face.
“Bastard,” Cora raised the fallen branch. “You killed my child.”
“No,” the voice from the doorway cried.
Cora looked towards the sound and her eyes grew wide with fear. Something was making its way down the steps. Something so horrible, that for a moment time ceased and she remained frozen, the arm holding the branch raised above her head.
“This is mine to deal with,” the thing said. “I am beyond hope. All is lost to me, but you have a chance. As yet, you remain unblemished by this monster, this thief of time.”
Cora realised, despite the creature’s fearsome appearance, the voice was that of a young woman. Liam reached out and caught hold of Cora’s skirt.
“Help me,” he sobbed.
Cora looked into her husband’s eyes and saw reflected in them the cold, white body of her child. She reached down and gently pried away his fingers. All the while the thing stood silent, waiting.
“Poor Liam,” Cora stroked her husband’s cheek, and he grabbed at her hand and kissed it. “You know,” she smiled at him. “I never realised until now what a truly, pathetic little man you are.”
“What are you saying?” He asked, as she raised the branch again.
“I’m saying, I hope you rot in hell,” she swung as hard as she could.
Annie leaped forward and caught her hand in mid air. Cora struggled with her screaming above the noise of the storm, she had to do this. But the fingers encircling her wrist burned like boiling water on her skin and she dropped to her knees moaning in pain. The branch slipped from her grasp.
“Listen to me,” the thing knelt beside her.
Cora’s tried to turn away. Tried to sink into the blackness she saw in the eyeless hollows of the face before her, but instead she clutched at her empty stomach and sobbed.
“I need you to heed my words,” it continued. “You have young ones to care for. They will need you in the days ahead. Do not desert them as I did to all I held most dear.”
Liam watched the scene before him and took advantage of his wife’s distress. His car keys were inside the house, and with his injured ankle, he would never make it inside and back to the car without them noticing. His only option was to make for the trees and out onto the road beyond them. The gravel crunched like glass beneath his feet, but the crying of the wind masked its sound. He inched his way towards the back of the house and moved as fast as he possibly could through the jungle-like garden and into the shelter of the trees.
Annie’s heart ached for the woman and for her terrible loss.
“I know something of your suffering,” she whispered.
“How can you?” Cora sobbed. “No one knows what I feel.”
She looked up at the long-dead thing and gasped. Between the intermittent lightning flashes, she caught a glimpse of the young girl. A stunningly, beautiful girl with flowing auburn hair that floated around her in the wind.
“What are you?” Cora asked.
“I am a wraith. I bring death to the evil in this place. For centuries I have wandered the earth in search of peace. Now it is within my grasp. Your man is the last in his line, and his time has come.”
The roar of thunder overhead was so loud Cora covered her ears. But Annie heard reflected in the sound the voice of The Dark One.
“He is getting away,” he roared, and in an instant, she was on her feet and running.
Liam stopped to rest against a tree. Despite the cold night air, he was sweating. Not far to go, he thought, as the white of the road showed clear between the trees. Pain shot along his leg and he reached down and rubbed at his swollen ankle. There was no time to waste. That thing could come after him at any time. He swore aloud, as he snagged his foot on a root and fell hard onto the forest’s branch-strewn floor.
“Christ,” he gritted his teeth and tried to stand.
This is that bitch Cora’s fault. His anger so intense, he forgot for a moment he was being hunted and it was not until he felt the fingers in his hair hauling him up, his terror returned. He was propelled face first into the nearest tree trunk. The force, with which he made contact, shattered his nose and the crunch of bone echoed in his pain-filled howls.
Annie spun him around. Blood matted his face, dripped down his chin and coated her fingers.
“You cannot escape me,” she snarled.
Her putrid breath mingled with the taste of his blood and made him retch. The grip of the skeleton fingers was so tight he knew if he vomited, he would choke. All around him the night filled with sound. There were urgent whisperings, hundreds of voices chanted prayers he remembered from long ago, when he still believed in a power greater than himself.
“You will not stop me,” Annie drew back a little, but still retained her death grip on the quivering man. She looked towards the shadows in the trees and roared “This is how it must be, if I am to rest.”
“No, Annie, no,” the cries encircled them.
“They will not stop me,” the thing moved closer, until it was pressing against him.
Annie brought her free hand up to his face and then slowly almost dreamlike, she allowed her fingers to slide down his shirt and rip away each button.
Liam sobbed, as the bony fingers pulled aside the fabric and exposed his flesh. The cool night air made his skin tingle, but it was not this that made the goose pimples rise. It was the feel of the claw as it moved towards his chest.
“Please,” he sobbed. “Let me go.”
“You expect mercy; but you have never shown any?”
“Just tell me what you want. I’ll do whatever you say, pay any price.”
“Your riches mean nothing to me, but you will pay, and the price is what lies beneath.”
Liam screamed, as the dirty razor-sharp nails stabbed at his chest, then traced downwards opening the incision wider.
Cora heard him and staggered to her feet. She made no move towards the sound and it wasn’t until she felt the small hand slip into hers, she looked down. A little girl, no older than six or seven and clutching a doll was looking up at her.
“We have to help Annie,” the child nodded towards the forest. “Or else The Dark One will have her forever.”
Cora dropped the child’s hand and started to run around the house.
Liam felt the warm blood as it dripped down his chilled skin. The wound in his chest burned and his eyes widened as the fingers of the thing arched ready for attack.
“Don’t,” he begged.
“It is too late to beg for mercy. I asked for it once and my cries went unheard, and the cries of your son will never sound because of you. I believed men such as you were heartless; I now know I was wrong. I can feel it beating as any other, but it is not like any other. It is rotten to the core.”
Liam’s screams echoed through the trees, as Annie thrust her fingers deep into the wound. She felt the flesh part and the softness of muscles, as she moved towards her target. Her skeleton fingers scraped bone against bone on his ribs.
Despite her revulsion Cora managed to grab hold of her. Annie caught off guard, was thrown back. The suction sound as her fingers were torn from Liam’s flesh was nauseating.
“Annie, no,” Cora gasped, winded from the run and her recent ordeal.
Liam slumped to the ground and was clutching at his torn chest trying to stem the flow of blood. Annie, stunned by the surprise attack, sat against a tree trunk.
“He’s not worth it,” Cora said. “It’s bad enough I’ve had to suffer up to now at his hands, but think of it Annie, yours will be eternal.”
“That is a price I am willing to pay.”
Liam tried to back away as she crawled towards him, ready to renew her assault.
“Please, no,” Cora begged, caring only for the memory of the young girl she had glimpsed moments before and nothing for the man she had once called husband.
“No,” the cries of the spirits joined with hers, and Cora hugged herself as the ground beneath her shook.
The roots of long dead trees sprang from the earth and wrapped themselves around Annie’s ankles, pulling her back. She roared in frustration and beat at the earth-brown sinews holding her against the trunk. Some were so brittle with age they crumbled to dust beneath her rapacious tearing. But as soon as she managed to pull one away another replaced it. Cora sobbed, as she watched the battle before her. Nature itself loved this young woman enough to fight for her. The wind died completely, and the night grew still, except for the snapping of the roots and the howls of their prisoner. The moonlight returned and small shafts of its light made their way through the trees. From far above her head, Cora heard an urgent rustling as every bird awoke from slumbering and took to the air. Crows, sparrows, starlings, and magpies flew as one towards the sky, their wings beating a tattoo and their voices calling out to him who created them for help. Still, the heavens remained silent.
Dora sat on the steps of the house crying and hugging her doll. The noises from the forest frightened her, and even though she wanted to help her sister, fear held her in its grip. She was so frightened she did not even move when the big lights came towards her.
The taxi deposited its passengers and drove away. The darkness returned and Laura, Shelly and Emily were left standing staring at the little girl who sat with her eyes covered, sobbing.
“What’s that noise? Laura looked at Emily.
“I don’t know, but it’s coming from behind the house.”
“Shelly, stay there,” Laura ordered, as she followed the old woman.
Shelly walked to the steps and sat down. Dora peeped between her fingers and realising it was another child took her hands down.
“You have to help Annie,” she whispered.
“I can’t,” Shelly said. “My head is broken.” And she rubbed at the offending lump.
“What happened?”
“My stupid sister did it.”
“Why?”
“Cause I called her names.”
“Hugh beat me with a stick.”
Who’s he?”
“A horrid man and very big like this,” she stretched her arms above her head.
“What did he beat you for?”
“I would not tell a lie about Annie.”
“Did it hurt a lot?”
“Yes, I was all cut and my new dress got blood on it, look.”
Shelly bent to look at the dark stain on the faded garment and wrinkled her nose.
“That’s gross. What did you do then?”
“I fell asleep.”
“Hey,” Shelly noticed the doll, reached across, and grabbed it. “That’s mine.”
“I did not break it or anything. I just played with it.”
Shelly looked at the strange little girl with the big sad eyes and gave the doll back.
“Here, you can keep it. I have loads more.”
“Oh, thank you,” Dora clasped the wonderful gift and, while the earth and all of its forces fought against the threatening darkness two little girls sat and talked about dolls and sisters and things that remained the same throughout the centuries.
Laura caught up with Emily and they walked hand in hand into the turmoil. Annie still fought against her bonds; Liam managed to get to his feet but was unable to walk. A tree took his weight, as he leant against it. He needed both hands to keep his flesh together.
“Mam,” Cora did not hear Laura call her name as above her the birds circled faster, their cries growing more urgent. It was not until her daughter touched her, she realised she was there. She knew the old woman with her had to be Emily.
“Laura, don’t look,” She pulled the child against her, trying to shield her eyes.
“It’s all right, Mam. I know Annie and I know why she is angry. He hurt you, didn’t he?” She cast a disdainful look at her blood-soaked father.
Cora did not have time to reply.
“Annie,” Emily walked towards the struggling figure. “Annie, dearest, don’t you know me?”
Annie stopped and looked at the old woman.
“I’m family, Annie. I am descendent of Rose. Look deep child and remember.”
The skies grew quiet as the birds flew down and lined the branches of the trees. Nothing stirred; even the moon stood still and waited.
“You are Rose’s child?”
“Yes,” Emily walked closer. “And I know all about you and what you’ve suffered.”
“Then she lived?”
“Yes, child. They all lived. Meg, Pat, Lily and Paul. They’ve kept watch over you throughout time.”
With this Annie started to cry. She bowed her head and sobbed, and when she finally looked up, she was a young girl again.
“Then I was not alone?”
“You were never alone. Their love was hidden from you by The Dark One’s curse.”
Who’s The Dark One?” Laura asked.
A shadow slipped from between the trees.
“I am,” he bowed mockingly and walked over to the child.
Cora pushed her daughter behind her, but she was no match for his superhuman strength, and he threw her aside. Bending down, he took Laura’s chin in his hand.
“Don’t touch me,” she tried to pull away. “You’re a bad man.”
“Oh, you have no idea how bad I am, little girl.”
The smack she gave him resounded in the stillness.
“I hate you.”
“The feeling is mutual I assure you.”
“Take your hands off her” the roots released Annie; she pushed him aside and became a barrier between him and the child. “I will not allow you to hurt her.”
“You cannot stop me,” he sneered.
“Oh, I can stop you, Lucifer. Like you I have learned much, and I will cast you down as Michael did before me.”
His eyes blazed and his mouth drew back in a feral grin, as he lunged at her. The force with which she hit him sent him flying and he landed so hard, the earth beneath him cracked. He sat for a moment watching her, undecided. Then got to his feet and brushed the dirt from his clothes. The three women and the child moved closer together. Finally, he spoke.
“Very well; you have made your choice,” he waved at Liam. “He is still alive and my curse cannot be lifted and believe me Annie, he will sire more sons. Your search for peace will be endless.”
“But I know I am no longer alone. Dora is with me, I have seen her, and Rose survived. I will take this knowledge with me always, and I have learned so much I can no longer be of use to you. I will always hold true to the Most High. Go now.”
He moved back into the shadows until they could no longer see him.
“Where did he go?” Laura asked.
“Back to where he belongs,” Annie said. “And I pray he stays there for a long time.”
The lights in the house came on as the power supply was restored and lit the garden.
“Dora is waiting for you, child,” Emily took Annie’s hand and led her out from the trees. Cora and Laura walked behind them.
Liam’s laughter followed them, its sound hollow in the night air. All fear left him, and he considered himself immortal after hearing The Dark One’s words. Already his wound was starting to heal.
“You’re fucked,” he called after them. “All of you are fucked, understand? You,” he jabbed his finger at Cora. “You’re out, and you old woman,” He glared at Emily. “you’ll rot in that home.”
Annie started to walk back to him, but Emily stopped her.
“Leave him be, child. There’s a greater power will deal with him.”
“That’s right,” he sneered. “Listen to the old woman. Because one way or another you are really fucked. Kill me and you know what will happen. I heard him back there. I’m not stupid.”
“Come, child,” Emily pulled the reluctant Annie away.
“I’ll knock the house and dig every inch of the land until I find you. I will grind your bones to dust and there is nothing you can do. You’re useless,” he was shaking with temper. “Just like every woman ever born, you’re worthless.”
The watching birds screeched into flight, as Annie ran back towards him.
“I will kill you,” she screamed, but before she could touch him…
The clouds parted and a ray of light brighter than the sun cut through the night sky forcing them to cover their eyes. The lightening bolt, thrown by one who had remained silent for too long, found its target and cut Liam’s heart in two. The shocked women looked in wonder at his fallen body and the small plume of smoke rising from it.
“Don’t cry, Mam,” Laura said. “Dad was a bad man and he’d have hurt us and Annie.”
“I know,” Cora could not tell her young daughter her tears were ones of relief.
“The power of God is still strong,” Emily said. “And as he says there’s a time for everything under heaven,” she pointed to the opposite side of the garden and the figure of the blond child skipping along beside the young woman.
After the rain, the warm air started to rise, and a mist floated above the grass. Annie and Dora stopped when they reached their resting place and waved.
“God grant you peace,” Emily called to them, before the mist rose and they were lost to her forever.
And deep below the earth, wrapped in its velvet folds, a small child cuddled closer to her sister, stuck her thumb in her mouth and with her free hand holding tightly to her doll drifted away.
The Dark One stood amid storm tossed trees and watched as Annie sobbed over her own grave.
“I am so frightened, Dora,” she whispered. “Meg’s gone and I’m all alone. There is no one to guide me and I am weary. I want to lie down with you and sleep for the rest of eternity.”
The Dark One felt the spirits being moved by her plight. They came from out of the earth, from the sky and their voices echoed in the wind. His enemy was frightened, and he had a right to be so. As soon as he harnessed that girl’s power, he, once called Prince of Angels, would be as strong as the one calling himself God. Then the continuation of the world would be in his hands and he would wreak havoc on all who opposed him. Even now he felt those that lurked in the dark shadows drawing nearer, sensing his strength.
“Let me help you.”
Annie looked up, then shied back from his touch.
“You help me? All you have ever done is hurt anyone who has crossed your path. Why would you help me now, Lucifer?”
“I told you before. Do not speak that name.”
The skin rippled on his face threatening to expose his true features, and the fire in his eyes glowed, as he tried to control his rage.
“Don’t anger me, woman,” he warned. “You, who are without ally, cannot afford to turn down my offer.”
“An offer of eternal damnation?”
“That is not so. I will give you your life back, as promised. You will live out your allotted time and all you love will be restored.”
Annie looked down at the still, silent grave and the dark earth covering her sister.
“She was so young,” The Dark One picked up some of the soil and crumbled it between his fingers. “What a full life she could have lived, but for your selfishness; I would have destroyed the O Brien’s back then and all of this suffering could have been avoided. Yet even now you allow it to continue and another child has died because of him.”
“Then it is as I suspected, the child is dead?”
“A boy child,” The Dark One laughed.
Annie looked at him, disgusted.
“Well, you have to admit it’s amusing.”
“I find no merriment in the taking of life. Get out of my sight, Lucifer.”
This time the use of his given name had no effect on him.
“But it is your fault, if you would, but once admit it. You allow him to live and he will sire others. That woman, the one he calls wife, is not the only one he lies with.”
She could still hear his laughter as he faded back into the shadows. It was her fault, what he said was the truth. If she had given him her power all the suffering could have been avoided.
The house lay shrouded in night, as she moved towards it. All around her the good spirits beseeched her not to go there, but she was beyond reason. She moved silent as death up the steps towards the main door and stood in the shadows, waiting.
Liam groaned, as he drove up the driveway. The trees arched across his path; bending and swaying until he was sure they would scratch the paintwork of his car. He would have to see about cutting them down. A branch scraped across the roof as though reading his thoughts.
“Fuck,” he muttered, and put his foot down hard on the accelerator.
A shower of gravel, thrown up by the car wheels, heralded his arrival at the front door. Ducking his head against the storm, he ran up the steps. The key creaked, as he turned it, and before he closed the door, Annie glided by him. Inside the house was inky black, and he felt his way along the wall for a light switch. The light from the grand chandelier was harsh and lit up the streaks of blood at the bottom of the stairs. He ignored them and went towards his study. The house felt damp, a fault with the boiler, he thought, but he was too tired to correct it. The wait in the hospital seemed eternal. Four hours playing the devoted husband drained him. Hours when he could have been attending to better things. He smirked, thinking of what his dear wife referred to as his latest pillow friend. God, but women bored him. The wiles and whispered promises made his teeth itch. Whores, every one of them, but he made them pay and laughed when their words of love turned to screams of pain. Being the dumb creatures, they were, they came back for more; like whipped dogs cowering before their master.
Logs were piled beside the fire, so he threw some into the grate and set them alight. Taking his hankie from his pocket, he rubbed at his nose. The room smelled musty and a damp odour seemed to surround him.
Annie heard his every thought as though spoken and noticed how his hand shook as he filled a glass from a decanter.
I stayed as long as was necessary, he told himself. After all, the doctor said she would sleep for hours after the anaesthetic. No point in hanging around. The child was dead, best thing for everyone really. When she returned from the hospital, they could all go away for a few days as a family. Women liked that sort of things and she would soon forget the baby. Yes, a holiday would do him good, somewhere hot put a bit of colour into his skin. He held out his hands to inspect their paleness.
Outside despite the storm, the trees stretched skywards reaching out for the heavens. Fighting the force of the wind, they held their branches aloft and begged God to be merciful on one they loved. Even those who lived by the sea and knew well its ways; wondered why tonight of all nights, its voice was so loud. It roared and tossed, giant waves thundered towards the shore and shattered against rocks. The night creatures of forest and hedgerows covered their eyes and wept. “Will you abandon us?” The elements cried. “Will you let the one who was cast down have power over us, as you did to her who was part of us all?”
The heavens lay silent. Even the light from the few stars glowing through the blackness seemed to dim. They must stand alone and be Annie’s only hope. The trees called to the earth and all who inhabited it. From out of the forest came the first creatures. Fox and deer wild cats, rats and even owls worked side by side as they dug into Dora’s grave. Earth flew left and right as sharp claw and nail pierced the soil.
“Come child, come,” The spirits urged. “Your sister is in need of you.”
A small white hand forced its way through the earth and then another until soon, Dora was heaving herself up from the dank hole and running towards the house.
Annie could feel the changes occurring. The smell of her own body sickened her. It was of mould and decay. She knew her features must be frightening and when she touched her hair she cried, a shuddering, sobbing, pain-filled cry. Small tufts as dry as straw laced her fingers. This was his fault; she looked at Liam who had dropped his brandy at the sound. Up till now, she had not allowed him to see her, but that was about to change…
“Annie, Annie,” Dora ran up the steps of the house and tapped at the door. “Annie, let me in.”
Liam looked around, trying to see where the noise was coming from. Annie’s heart ached at the sound of the long-lost voice, but she did not move. The spirits were clever; they would try to distract her. The knocking continued, and Liam who was still shaking from the cry, got up to see what it was. Dora ran past him when he opened the door. The only thing he felt was the force of the wind. There was nothing there. Not for the first time did he question his choice of house. These old places were filled with creaks and groans. Shivering, he went back to the fire.
Annie held Dora and brushed away the dried earth from her face and picked little clumps from her hair, every trace of anger gone now she had her sister back.
“You have to come with me, Annie. Mamma says so.” The child looked up at her. “It is dark, and I am cold.”
“I will come with you, I promise, but not now. You must go back and wait for me.”
“I do not want to. I want to stay with you.”
Before Annie could answer, Liam banged his refilled glass down on the side table. Dora screamed.
“It is him, Annie, Hugh.”
“No,” Annie held her closer. “It is not Hugh; it is someone belonging to him.”
“He hurt me.”
“I know, my sweet, but he cannot hurt you anymore. He cannot even see you”
“He cannot, really, why?”
Annie shrugged, unsure of what to say, but this seemed great fun to Dora, and she crept closer to Liam. Had he been able to see the long dead child, he would have lost his mind. But then so would Annie. All she saw was a rosy-cheeked, blond-haired little girl with her face pressed against Liam’s. In truth, the nose almost touching his was stripped bare of flesh. The blue eyes sparkling with mischief were dark endless hollows, and the flowing hair, tattered tendrils framing the grinning skull.
“You hurt me,” Dora whispered and reached out towards his drink.
An invisible hand swept it from the table. Liam gaped at the fallen glass and spilled liquid.
Dora delighted with her prank, ran from the room and up the stairs. Sure, Annie would scold her; she hid in the shadows on the gallery.
Liam dropped to his knees and mopped at the stain on his Persian rug. The wind shook the shutters on the window and pried them loose. The sound of the wood hitting against the frame made him scream. From within the storm The Dark One watched the tableau and rubbed his hands with glee. Lightening struck the power lines plunging the house into darkness.
Liam, glad of the firelight, took the two ornate holders from the mantelpiece and lit the candles.
Annie crept up the stairs in search of her sister. When Dora heard her coming, she ran further into the house.
“Dora, come back here.”
“You have to find me,” the child giggled and climbed upwards.
Liam looked towards the ceiling and called out to his daughters to be quiet. It was then he remembered they were not there. He was apprehensive, not about ghosts or spirits, because he believed in nothing. Still, there was someone in the house. There was no mistaking the patter of footsteps on the floor above. He wished there were more lights. Despite piling logs on the flames, the fire seemed to lose its glow, and dark shadows crept from the corners of the room. It was no use; he would have to investigate. Taking one of the candlesticks, he moved towards the door.
The hall lay shrouded in moonbeams and darting shapes moved all around him. Leaves, he comforted himself, shadows of leaves being tossed about in the storm outside and reflecting on the floor. But these were nothing so innocent. From out of the darkness the lost souls urged him up, wanting to please their master and bring about Liam’s end. They knew she was up there. The one who could set them free as the master promised. But they were hindered in their work by the others; the ones who worked beside her. Time after time strong hands reached out and pulled them back into the shadows.
Liam moved up winching at each creaking board on the stairs. Somewhere above him a door banged, and he almost dropped the candle. His heart thudded against his ribs and he held the light higher. Was there something crouched at the gallery rail? Cold fear wandered down his spine, sweat coated his upper lip and he stood uncertain of what to do. For a moment all was quiet within the house, except for the sound of the rain on the roof, persistent and melancholic.
“Fuck this,” his voice shattered the silence. “You’re dead, do you hear me. Whoever you are, you’re dead when I get my hands on you.”
“Annie,” Dora came running from her hiding place. “He is going to kill us.”
“No, he is not,” she watched the flame as it moved closer. “Not this time, come.”
She led Dora into the children’s room. The dark was the same as the light to them and the child squealed with delight her fear forgotten when she saw the array of dolls.
“Now, stay here and play,” Annie said. “I will lead him away.”
Dora nodded and picked up the nearest doll.
“Look at me,” Annie turned her face towards her. “I mean what I say. You must stay here. No matter what you hear, Promise.”
Dora nodded again and Annie wagged her finger at her.
“Say you promise. Cross your heart and hope to…”
Dora’s fingers on her lips stopped her.
“Do not say that, Annie. Remember the last time?”
Annie remembered too well and after Dora assured her, she would stay put, she went in search of Liam. Which was no hard feat, as he stumbled along the corridor, a candle in one hand and a small marble statue in the other by way of a weapon? Annie ran by him and up the next flight of stairs towards the attic.
Liam raised the hand holding the statue and wiped his forehead. His shirt clung to his back and the wool from his pants chaffed his sweat-soaked thighs. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to get out, but something was urging him on. A sinister seductiveness surrounded him pulling him towards it. The door to the attic stairs swung noiselessly open and his feet moved forward, despite his terror. Unbroken veils of cobwebs blocked his path and he pushed them aside with the statue. White silken gossamer clung to his sleeves and about his shoulders, making him glow against the black background. Someone stood silhouetted by the window.
“Come out of the shadows. I’m warning you,” Liam raised the statue higher.
Annie walked towards him, the Annie of old with her waist length hair and winning smile. For a moment Liam was taken aback, until she spoke.
“Welcome, I have been waiting for you,” leaning over, she blew the candle out.
Cora groaned, the pressure on her right arm was unbearable. Even in her drug-induced, semi-conscious state, she managed to reach out with her free hand to brush away what was hurting her. There was vague mumbling from above and her hand was clasped in a cool, but firm embrace.
“Cora, wake up now.”
The overhead lights were blinding, so she covered her face. Her mind felt hazy, her thoughts muddled, but she managed to focus in time to see the white figure beside her bed fold the blood pressure cuff.
“Welcome back,” the nurse smiled. “And how are you feeling?”
“I fell,” she tried to make sense of what happened.
“Indeed, you did. It was a miracle you didn’t break something in a fall like that.”
“I didn’t?” She held up her hands to inspect them.
They were covered in yellow and blue bruises.
“I’m afraid you have many more like that, but never mind, it could be worse.”
Now her mind was finally clear of drugs, Cora’s hand went instinctively to her stomach, and she knew her baby was gone. She turned towards the nurse and with eyes filled with fear, asked. “My baby?”
“I’m sorry, my dear. There was nothing the doctors could do.”
“No, please,” she started to sob.
“The pregnancy wasn’t advanced enough. His little lungs were unable to cope.”
“A boy?”
“Yes, you can see him later, when you’re feeling better.”
But Cora knew she would never feel any better and turning on her side, she howled for the loss of her child.
“I’ll ask the doctor for something to relax you,” the nurse patted the bedcovers.
“No,” Cora called after her. “I don’t want anything. Let me be.”
The nurse turned away, shaking her head. Cora wanted to scream, leave me alone. I want to grieve for my loss. Instead, she huddled down under the blankets and her sobbing made the bed shake. After a while she fell into an uneasy sleep. She was back at the house, standing at the top of the stairs with her arms full of dirty bed linen. Then, she was falling, tumbling over and over, the child in her womb spinning faster within her until finally, she was lying at the bottom of the stairs and the warmth between her legs pumped in time to the fading heartbeat inside.
A touch on her arm made her scream, and she struggled to sit up. Marie caught her and held her as the sobbing began again.
“It’s going to be all right, my dear. I know this means nothing to you now, but time is a great healer.”
“I lost the baby.”
“I know, the nurse told me. I said I was your mother. A small lie in a good cause,” she stroked Cora’s back.
Cora sat up and brushed the tear-soaked hair from her face.
“It was a little boy,” she sniffed. “They said I can see him, but I’m afraid. Can you believe that? I’m afraid of my own baby.”
“We all fear death. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Would you come with me, to see him, I mean?”
“Yes, of course I will. I’ll go and ask the nurse.”
Marie left the room and returned in minutes.
“You will need to be taken down in a wheelchair. As soon as they have a porter free, they will send him in.”
During the time they waited, Marie told her how she had taken the children home with her. About Emily and finally, because she knew Cora needed to know, the house’s secret.
For a moment, Cora forgot her own grief.
“Then this Annie, this young girl, has been there for hundreds of years?”
“Yes, poor thing. Trapped in time and bound by a terrible curse to Liam’s family.”
“Is there nothing can be done to free her?”
“Nothing, Emily fears she’s become so desperate in her search of eternal rest she will try to kill Liam.”
“I hope she does.” Cora was trembling with rage. “I hope she tears out his rotten heart.”
“Yes, “Marie sighed. “But if she does, she’s damned. She will belong to the darkness forever.”
“Oh, the poor child,” Marie was unsure if her cries were for Annie or her dead baby.
The sudden whistling from the hallway made them look up and a wheelchair trundled in the door, pushed by a rosy-cheeked porter.
“Your chariot has arrived, my lady,” he joked, as he helped Cora into the seat.
His cheery manner soon abated when the nurse came in and he learned of their destination. It was a solemn, silent little procession that left the room. No one spoke, as they waited for the lift, or even when they descended deep into the bowels of the hospital and along the echoing corridor to the morgue and the chapel of rest. There was more whispering as the porter and the assistant conferred, finally…
“Mrs. O Brien. I’m Joe Hayes. I’ll take you in to see your baby.”
“Thank you,” Cora held out a trembling hand to Marie.
“You’ll be fine, love,” Joe assured her.
She glanced towards the chapel doors and the stained-glass cross fixed in each of them. Somewhere behind those doors lay the body of her child, pale and cold and dead. She wanted to scream, but instead she held tighter to Marie’s hand. The wheelchair jolted as Joe kicked off the brake, and she closed her eyes. She was aware of the doors opening and cringed, expecting a rush of cold air. But there was nothing like that. The room felt warm; there was no harsh smell of disinfectant nothing, but silence.
Marie let go of her and Cora heard her walk forward. Still, she did not open her eyes.
“Ah, God bless him.”
Marie was leaning over a frilled baby basket when Cora peeped through her fingers. There was no coffin, no candles, none of the scary stuff.
“What’s he like?” Cora started to cry.
“A perfect little baby; a little transparent, but that’s to be expected. Come, let me help you.”
With Marie holding her, she moved towards the basket. A sob caught in her throat when she saw her baby. He was as Marie said, perfect. His skin so thin she could trace each vein beneath it. His fingers were curled into tight fists and his mouth pouted into a perfect cupid’s bow.
“Poor little thing,” Cora’s tears flowed as she stroked his tiny hands. “You never stood a chance did you, son?”
Marie bought a hankie to her eyes. Cora was right; he never stood a chance. Hatred for Liam O Brien and for all men like him welled up, so she had to walk from the room as tears threatened.
She had managed to compose herself when Cora was wheeled out. No longer crying, she seemed more at peace, and the hand that grasped Marie’s no longer trembled. The porter soon had Cora back in bed and left with a mumbled “sorry for your trouble.”
Marie was anxious to be back with Emily and the children. So, kissing Cora and promising to be back next morning, she left the room almost colliding with a doctor who was entering.
Outside the wind whipped up, and Marie shivered drawing her coat closer. The forecast said a clear night with a touch of frost. Now, as she looked up at the moon and the dark clouds racing across it, she wondered where the weathermen got their predictions.
Cora studied the doctor standing at the end of her bed.
“Let’s have a look at you,” he indicated at her to pull up her robe and pressed on her stomach.
“It’s amazing you didn’t break anything. I have seen people die from shorter falls than you had. Did you ever think of doing stunt work?”
She did not answer and his face grew serious.
“I’m sorry about your loss. There was nothing anyone could do.”
“Yes, I know. Thank you,” she answered automatically.
“Can you remember what you tripped over?”
“The sheets, I think. I was changing a bed.”
“Yes, that may well be, but it doesn’t explain this,” he rolled back the bedclothes and traced his fingers along a thin red mark on her ankle. “Do you remember how you got this?”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t.”
“Mmm, it’s strange. Your leg must have encounter something sharp. It is worth looking into, but not tonight. You need your rest.”
“Yes,” Cora was unable to tear her eyes away from the thin, blood red line around her ankle.
“There seems to be a storm brewing.”
“Sorry?”
“I said there seems to be a storm brewing. It’s the wrong time of the year for this sort of weather.”
“Oh, yes,” Cora’s attention went back to her leg, so she did not hear him leave.
The effects of the day begun to take effect, and she sank back against the pillows exhausted. There were no more tears left, instead she felt numb. Eventually she fell asleep and her dreams were filled with nightmare images. The one thing she remembered clearly as she awoke was lying at the bottom of the stairs and looking up at the terrified face of a young woman, and the thin piece of wire tied across the top step. Sweat coated her face as the realisation hit. Liam killed her son and had she died in the process; it would not have mattered. Her eyes flew to the clock in the corridor outside. She had only been asleep for half an hour. Easing her way out of bed, she stumbled towards the wardrobe. Her flesh was so battered it felt as though it tore with each movement. The clothes she had been wearing when admitted were folded neatly on a shelf. Though the skirt was blood stained, it was wearable and there were a few crumpled euro notes in the pocket to pay for a taxi. The corridor was quiet; there was no one to stop her flight. The night seemed darker than usual, despite the full moon, and the wind whipped her hair around her face as she stepped outside. She was leaving her baby behind in a hospital full of strangers and heading home to Liam to carry out the teachings of her religion, an eye for an eye.
“It’s getting very dark,” Laura pressed her nose against the window and looked out into the deepening gloom. She had grown tired of waiting for Marie to return and turning to Emily asked. “What’s taking her so long?”
“Perhaps the traffic is bad. It has turned out to be such a windy night. The power lines could be down. Who knows what damage this storm is causing?”
“Yes, but it’s not a real storm,” Laura traced her finger down the pane following the path of a raindrop.
“Why, of course it’s a real storm,” Emily replied. “You can hear it, can’t you and see it?”
“Yes,” Laura shrugged, slipping down from the window seat, and joining Emily and Shelly by the fire. “I mean it’s not caused by the weather.”
“That’s silly,” Shelly stopped writing in her copybook and looked up. “It has to be cause by the weather. You’re weird.”
“I am not,” Laura grabbed at the copybook and a tug of war ensued.
“Stop that at once,” Emily shook her hankie at them with all the power of a demented butterfly.
Laura let go, causing Shelly to fall back against the fireplace and bang her head.
“Now look what you’ve done,” Emily eased her way up from her seat.
“I don’t care. I’m sick of her calling me names.”
“That’s no reason to hurt her,” Emily rubbed at the small lump already beginning to form at the back of the child’s head.
“I didn’t mean her to fall back, did I?” Laura glared at her sister.
“Yes, you did,” Shelly sniffled. “I hate you. You’re a pig.”
“Well. If I am a pig, you must be too.”
“Well, you’re an even bigger pig.”
“Girls give over that nonsense at once. You do not know how lucky you are to have one another. If I had a sister, I might not have ended up in that dreadful place.”
This stopped them, as each had a picture of Hillcrest seared into their memory.
“I’m sorry,” Laura offered. “It’s just people at school are always calling me names. They say I am weird because I see things they can’t. They call me witch and other things.”
“I always stick up for you,” Shelly said.
“Yeah, I know, sorry.”
“It’s OK,” Shelly retrieved the fallen copybook.
For a while peace was restored. Shelly went back to her homework, Laura leafed through a magazine and Emily stared into the flames remembering better times. She had to agree with the child. Marie was taking her time. There was a shuffling beside her, and Emily looked across at Laura who was holding the palms of her hands over her ears.
“Have you an earache?”
She shook her head.
“Why are you doing that?”
“Voices.”
“What do you mean?”
“Voices, in my head.”
“She always hears voices,” Shelly threw her eyes skyward.
“What are they saying?” Emily was intrigued.
“Crying, Annie’s crying and a man, I think it’s my Dad saying help me.”
Emily looked towards the dark window. “She’s out there?”
“Yes, I tried to tell you that. She’s in the storm.”
“We have to save her. We have to get to the house.”
“Shelly, get your pencil case,” Laura ordered, and taking her own from her satchel, she emptied the contents onto the coffee table.
Between them they had over sixteen euros in lunch money.
“This should be enough for a taxi,” Shelly said.
. Marie’s address book was beside the phone, so they found the number of a taxi firm. Laura, taking charge, helped Emily and Shelly into their coats and stuffed the notes and coins into her pocket.
“We better leave Marie a note,” Emily said.
Laura tore a piece from the back of Shelly’s copybook and scribbled a short message. Outside a horn tooted and she ushered the others out.
“You see?” She whispered to Emily, as she helped her down the steps in front of the building. “The sky is crying.”
Marie arrived back at the flat just as the taxi drew away from the curb. She ran inside pulling of her headscarf and unbuttoning her coat. She knew something was wrong. It was too quiet.
“Emily, children,” she called, her voice echoing back in the stillness. Their coats were gone from the hallstand, but everything else was still there. Her eyes were drawn to the copybook on the table and the note lying on top of it. Picking it up, her eyes grew wide in terror at the six words printed in childish scrawl. Annie’s back, gone to save her.
gemmamawdsley 