Copyright © 2023 by â Brynn Morgan â All Rights Reserved.
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Chapter 23
Lainie, Davis, and Emily sat at the table after Bella was in bed and listened to Hillary's entire recording. Cold chills covered Emily's body as Hillary talked about her encounter with the girl and how she reached her in New Zealand. The fact that she was now zeroing in on Hillary's young daughter was terrifying. You could hear the fear and dread in her voice. The girl had tortured her for so long.
"What has made Penelope so angry that she has gone on a killing rampage for centuries?" Lainie asked.
Davis sipped a beer and sighed, running long fingers through his black hair. He sat the can down on the table and looked at them. "What would make you come back?".
Emily sighed and looked toward the living room. "Being wronged in life or being murdered. I would come back seeking vengeance, no doubt," she said.
A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, startling them all.
"So, you have permission from Hillary to enter Hastings and investigate the room?" Davis asked. Lainie and Emily nodded. "Did you not say that you could not even get close to the door because you got so sick?" he asked, concerned for Emily.
She nodded in response. "Yes. I had the worst nausea to hit me. I was so sick, but the second I turned and walked away from the door, I immediately started to feel the nausea dissipating. It was strange." Emily said, remembering.
Lainie began searching on Google for spirits, causing nausea.
She had a dark look on her face. "Listen to this," she said and began reading an article she had found online. "This is from Father Edward Mays in 1922 in Devonshire, England," she said.
"A horrible smell was coming from the basement of the old farmhouse that we went to investigate. The smell was overpowering, and I had to cover my mouth and nose to enter the haunted sight. Once I had entered the location, extreme nausea overtook me, and I had to get out. The cause for this is that the evil entity had passed there, and it was in a very violent manner. I could not return, even at the legacy of the family who pleaded for us to return and perform an exorcism." he wrote.
Emily stood up and paced back and forth across the room with her hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans. "This sounds serious and like we are biting off more than we can chew." She said, stressed. "I do not know anything about this, and neither do you. Lainie and I will waltz in there tomorrow like Ghost Hunters Halfcocked. What if it backfires on us? she asked worriedly. "What if one of us dies?"
"I am not letting y'all walk in there alone. Someone will have to break down the door." Davis informed them with a grin.
Emily and Lainie were grateful to hear that. They needed all the help they could get.
"I have thought about asking Clarrisa to join us, but I don't know if she would want to," Lainie said.
Emily thought asking Clarrisa to join them would be a clever idea. She radiated positivity and light and could bring a peaceful aura to the house. "I don't think that is a bad idea, Lainie. I think it could be a clever idea," Emily said.
Lainie walked away from the group and dialed Clarrisa's number. She answered on the third ring. "Hey, Clarrisa. It's Lainie."
"I know. I have you saved as a contact now. What's up? "Clarrisa asked.
"We have been permitted to access Hasting's house from Hillary."
Clarrisa gasped. "Wow, from the ice queen herself," she stated dryly.
Laine blew out the air. "Emily, Davis, and I are going in tomorrow, and I wanted to see if you...."
Clarrisa interrupted excitedly. "Count me in!" she shouted.
Lainie smiled. "I am glad that you are on board with us. After your vision of Emily the other night, I feel we might need you there for..." she trailed off.
Clarrisa filled in the blank. "Guidance and spiritual support," she stated in a calm tone.
"Yes," Lainie said.
"I agree. Will I meet you at the Hastings House or your own house?" she asked.
Lainie said softly.
"The farm at noon."
Emily woke up in the middle of the night. She glanced over at her phone; it was three o'clock. Leaning over the bed, Emily looked at the pallet where Davis slept and noticed he was gone. She exited the bed, opened the door, and entered the hallway.
Emily heard a clap of thunder and walked through the living room, noticing that the front door was open. She pushed the screen door and stepped onto the porch, smelling the rain over the hills. A streak of lightning lit the sky dark purple, and Emily shivered, wrapping her arms around her middle to ward off the chill she suddenly felt. A few drops of rain splashed on her arms.
"What are you doing out here, Em?" Davis startled her. His voice was low. He was sitting on the far end of the porch on the porch swing. It gently rocked back and forth, making a slight creaking noise with its movements.
Emily turned, and suddenly, she felt self-conscious. She only wore an oversized black T-shirt that hit mid-thigh and showed her legs. Her hair was down around her shoulders. She could feel Davis's eyes on her. She thought of turning around and walking back into the house, but she did not move. "I could not sleep," she murmured.
Davis stood up and walked over to where Emily stood. She leaned against the porch railing and looked into the night, listening to the rolling thunder.
Davis was right behind her. She could feel him. Emily shivered again, but not from the storm, but from him. His presence unnerved her in a way that she could not explain, and it wasn't bad, or was it? She felt so confused around him.
"I can't either." He agreed. His voice had taken on a husky tone.
Emily bent her neck to the side. This whole thing was still so surreal. Was she going into a house tomorrow to confront The Girl? What was she going to encounter? This was all so wild and unbelievable in her mind. A ghost? A spirit? A demon? What?
"I'm wondering what we will find out about Penelope tomorrow. Will we find answers?" she paused. "It is so scary." She admitted to Davis.
Davis placed his hand on Emily's left shoulder, and she turned to him. Thunder rumbled, and lightning lit up the sky. Heavy rain began to fall. Davis looked down at Emily, and his dark eyes glittered. He brushed his fingers across her cheek and tilted her chin to his.
"I will be right beside you, Em. I will not let anything, or anyone hurt you." Davis leaned down and softly brushed his lips against hers.
Emily pushed at his chest. "You can't make promises like that, Davis," she said sadly. "Luke told me that night that he would be right back and never returned. Do not make promises to me that you cannot keep Davis."
Davis pulled her back to him, and Emily did not draw back this time. She lost herself in the moment and leaned into him. She let him kiss her slowly, and then his kiss deepened, and he pulled her closer. Emily moaned as he lifted her leg, and she wrapped it around his waist. He breathed in the smell of her. She was intoxicating to his senses. She felt good, smelled good, and buried her face in his neck as he caressed her back in long strokes. She raised her face to his again, and he kissed her thoroughly. Davis was strong, and he made her feel so safe; Emily needed that. A lightning bolt came down in the distance, hitting a tree in the field; it was loud, breaking Davis and Emily's kiss. They looked at each other, both breathing heavily. Emily touched his chest and lightly pushed him away, putting some distance between them.
"Davis, it's to ... "her words trailed off. Her lips were slightly swollen and parted.
Davis stepped toward her and gently held her face in between his hands. "When you are ready, Emily," he said softly. She looked up at him and then placed her cheek against his chest. They said nothing. They just held one another as the storm raged around them.
The next day at noon, the group met up at the farm and then traveled the short distance to Hasting's house. The mansion loomed before them; this time, it felt threatening to them, as if daring them to enter.
The sky was heavy and gray, with light drizzling rain.
Clarissa exited her car and grabbed a white duffle bag from the trunk, remarking, "The perfect weather for ghost hunting!"
A rusty old truck was parked outside the front steps, and Emily and Lainie walked up to the door. Davis jumped in front of them and knocked on the door with force. They heard footsteps from inside and waited for what seemed like forever as the lock clicked open slowly. The door creaked open, revealing Maureen's tired face peering out at them. "Why are y'all here again?" she demanded, looking at Lainie and Emily.
Davis looked at her and smiled his most charming southern boy smile.
"We," he said with his hand circling his group. "Are here to check some things out." He noted with charm.
Maureen looked at him skeptically. "You are not supposed to be here. It would be best if you left," Maureen told him and went to shut the door, but Davis was quick and stopped her with his steel-toed work boot.
"You might want to speak with Mrs. Hillary, darlin. We have permission, and we are coming in, whether you like it or not," he said in a low tone.
Maureen's eyes widened in fright.
"Maureen! Get yourself away from that door and let them in. You know that Hillary has allowed them to come in here. Now step aside." It was Claude, her husband. A stocky older man with snow white hair cut in a high and tight. He pushed his wife aside tenderly and opened the door wide. She huffed and puffed as they entered. Maureen's salt and pepper hair was pulled back into a ponytail by her, and her bright blue eyes sparkled with anger. Her voice shook.
"Hillary has lost her mind. You are all making a mistake. It would be best if you left good enough alone. You are only going to make her angrier." she warned.
Claude grabbed his wife by the elbow and turned to the group. "I will keep her out of the way so you can do your job," he said, pulling her toward the kitchen. She strained to look back, desperation on her wrinkled face.
Emily shivered. "Well, that was interesting," she commented.
Davis, Lainie, Emily, and Clarrisa went up the stairs slowly, single file. Lainie tried not to let panic take hold of her. She was on the exact steps that her sister had fallen on. Clarrisa had never been in the house before, and her mouth gaped open at the place's grandeur.
They arrived at the top of the landing and stood in a cluster.
"There it is," Emily said with dread, pointing to the door that seemed a mile away.
The darkness of the corridor filled the space. Maureen had shut the doors instead of opening them as they had expected.
Davis took a breath and began to walk down the hallway to the door. He stopped at the halfway point and placed his hands on his hips.
"Wow. I feel sick." He said, bending over.
Emily approached him, and she felt the nausea overcome her, too. She collapsed on the carpet and rolled over onto her back, clutching her stomach.
Clarrisa ran to them and knelt by Emily's side. Her green eyes filled with concern for Davis and Emily. "Guys, you need to go back to Lainie. I will check the door."
Emily grabbed Clarrisa's wrist. "Aren't you nauseous?" she asked incredulously, sweat beading her forehead.
Clarrisa shook her head. "No. I do not appear to be. I will go and check the door. Y'all go back down there with Lainie." she instructed.
Davis and Emily followed her advice and went back to the landing.
Clarrisa continued down the hallway, clutching her moonstone in her hands. She also had a string of smoky quartz beads to ward off the negative energy.
The closer she got to the door, a horrific smell assailed her nose. She stepped back.
Lainie called out to her.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
Clarrisa was barely visible in the shadowed hallway, but they could make out her form. She hurried back to them, breathing hard as she spoke. "It gets progressively worse the closer to the door that you are. I did not have nausea, but the smell was overwhelming," Clarrisa said slowly, taking in great gulps of air. She looked at them. "Do you smell it?"
They all shook their heads to confirm that they did not.
Clarrisa nodded her head. "Something doesn't want us in that room," she said.
She bent down, unzipped her bag, and pulled out white candles, a cigarette lighter, and a few Rose Quartz stones. "Stay here," she said. "And watch."
Clarrisa took a candle, lit it, grabbed the rest of the items, and walked back down the hall. They watched Clarrisa kneel on the floor, placing the candle before her. She also lit the other two candles and put them on either side of her. Holding the stones tightly in her hands, she chanted quietly under her breath and bowed her head. "Davis!" she called out. Davis stepped forward.
"I'm here," he shouted.
"Come to me," she ordered.
Emily glanced with panic at Davis and watched him walk to Clarrisa. He made it down to where she was kneeling.
Clarrisa closed her eyes and muttered words, a prayer under her breath, and then she asked, "Are you nauseous, Davis?"
Davis examined how he felt.
"No. I don't appear to be," Davis said.
Clarrisa looked up at him. "Tell the others to come down."
Davis hollered down the hallway for Emily and Lainie to follow.
Hesitantly, they followed instructions and went down the hallway to Clarrisa and Davis.
Davis looked at Emily and Lainie by the flame of the candles with a question in his eyes.
"I feel fine," Emily said.
"Me too," Lainie said.
Clarrisa continued to chant and then turned to them. "Go to the door, Davis." Her eyes looked glassy in the candlelight, and her voice deepened.
Davis did not wait. He strode to the door and touched it.
"Push against it," Clarrisa ordered.
It would not give; whoever had closed this door intended never to open again.
Clarrisa's voice rose higher.
"Throw your full weight against it."
Davis did it. He stepped back a few feet, ran at the door, and threw his total weight against it, but it would not budge.
Davis breathed heavily. "I need a damn battering ram!" he shouted.
"Do it again!" Clarrisa yelled loudly. Sweat beaded above her upper lip.
Davis stepped back one last time, then jumped and kicked the door with both feet. It splintered, and he heard something give. He kicked it again. A giant crack appeared in the middle of the door. He kicked it again, and that time, a thin stream of light pierced the hallway from the fracture in the door.
The spirit blew out the candles, and all the bedroom doors flew open violently. Gray light filled the hallway from the windows in all the rooms.
Davis panted heavily. He punched the fractured wood, and it opened even more.
"I don't feel a lock. "Davis said. "There is nothing to turn. No knob or handle. Nothing." It's just the door."
Just then, they saw a flashlight come toward them. It was Claude, holding an axe in his hands. He walked up and handed it to Davis. "I thought you might need this. I heard all the commotion. This axe would have been a whole lot simpler," he said in a helpful but sarcastic tone.
Davis took the axe and started chopping at the door. He had cut a sizeable jagged square big enough for a body to climb through.
There was a loud crash close to them. They turned and looked down the hallway. The older woman, Maureen, was standing at the top of the stairs and looking down the staircase.
"The family portraits have fallen off the walls!" She screamed. "Leave her alone. YOU ARE MAKING HER ANGRY!"
The group ignored her and went back to battering down the door. Davis took a final swing, and the wood splintered to the bottom. Emily pushed at it with her hands and then stepped into the room. Time stood still.
"Oh my God." she breathed as she turned in a circle, taking in space.
The rest followed suit and looked in. It was a dim and gloomy room with holes in the bare walls. Davis administered a few more blows to the bottom half, and then he and Claude tore the rest of the wood at the bottom away with their hands so that everyone could walk into the room.
Emily looked around and saw a small half-crescent window toward the top of the low ceiling. The walls had no paint. There was a twin bed in the far corner with a mattress and an old, tattered blanket under the window, and on the other side of the room, there was a small cot with a pathetic mattress made of corn husks. Emily felt great sadness in the room. On the other side of the room was a brick wall, and there was an old cradle with a rag doll propped in the corner. Down at the bottom of the wall was a set of shackles attached to the floor with rusty bolts.
The room stank so severely that they held their hands over their nose and mouth. Davis knelt and touched the shackles; someone unlocked them. Someone had been held captive in this room a long time ago. Someone had been tortured in this room horribly. What had happened here?
Lainie walked over to the cot and leaned down, looking beneath it. She pulled out a potato sack and opened it. She pulled out an old dress, a photo of a man and woman, and a leather-bound book wrapped with a light faded green ribbon.
"Oh shit!" she breathed.
On the inside of the cover was a name.
Clara.
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