The Haunting Within (8 page)

22

As Lisa came out of her mum’s old bedroom she heard a loud chugging noise coming from the bathroom which they had first gone into. Thinking it might be her mum in there she walked over to the door and knocked. After a few seconds of silence, apart from the chugging she opened the door and was surprised, if not a little worried to find the light on and the sink tap running. She turned the tap off tightly, with slightly more force than she needed to use. The tap dug into her palm making it throb. Sitting on the edge of the bath she wondered how it could be that both the light and the tap were on. Maybe her mum had been in here and forgotten to turn them off? It was a possible explanation. The corridor leading from the bathroom to the bedroom Lisa had just been in veered off sharply in two directions, making it look like a two pronged fork. The first way was towards the stairs and the second way was towards the other corridor and the rooms there. Her mum could have come from the other corridor, used the bathroom and gone back downstairs which would explain why Lisa didn’t see her pass the door of her old bedroom. Standing up from the bath she peered down into the plug-hole and saw three big black hairy legs feeling their way slowly and carefully around the top of the plug. Feeling queasy at the sight she bent and put the plug in the hole after much deliberation and mental psyche and pushed down extra hard for the sake of it. The legs detached from the body and, after a few seconds of nervous twitching (and possibly some steely determination, she thought), they stopped moving. She shivered in revulsion.

Believing she had found what had happened she left the bathroom and turned to go downstairs, assuming her mum had gone back down. As she was heading that way she heard a jangling sound from in the other direction. Not knowing if it was her mum or not she turned back and headed towards the noise. She noticed it was coming from her mum’s old room so she stepped back inside. At first glance she couldn’t pinpoint where the noise was coming from until she turned and saw the tall oak armoire behind the door. Closing the door to so she could get to the wardrobe she opened the doors, unsure of what she would find. As it was she found only little girls’ clothes that were also moth-eaten. The noise she had heard was some empty coat-hangers rattling on the rail. Frowning she tried to explain to herself how this could happen. Maybe her mum had been in here and she was looking through the wardrobe at all of her old clothes and that’s what rattled the hangers. Then she must have left the room and gone somewhere else upstairs - otherwise Lisa would have passed her, unless she was in the bathroom at the time. She knew that was the only possible explanation for it, well not the only one but it was the only rational one and certainly the only one she was prepared to entertain.

Just as she was closing the doors to the wardrobe something caught her eye and she opened it again to get a better look. Sliding back the clothes on the rail she saw a large white item of clothing. She took the hanger out of the wardrobe and held it up. What she saw alarmed her more than anything she had seen in her life. Throwing it into the bottom of the wardrobe like it had burned her she slammed the doors shut and ran from the room shaking and on the verge of fearful tears.

In the oak armoire the discoloured straight jacket swung to and fro…

23

Aiden left the dining room and made his way to the hall. The walls were covered with dark wood panelling. It rose from floor to ceiling and covered all of the walls in the large space. The floor was a patchwork of parquet wooden blocks that made a lot of noise when walked on and that were worn and cracked in places, but somehow that only added to the overall look and charm of them. Aiden went to the bottom of the stairs to see if he could hear Lisa, but he heard nothing. As he stood and strained his ears for the slightest bit of sound coming from above, he became aware of a faint odour somewhere on the grand staircase. He breathed it in trying to figure out what it was and where it was coming from. The first deep breath he took didn’t arouse his sense of smell enough to determine what it was. He exhaled and took another long sniff of the air and inhaled the smell deep into his lungs. The stench hit him instantly like a punch to the stomach and it violated his senses. It smelled like rotten meat and it was so strong he could taste it. He felt the bile rising at the back of his throat and he knew if he didn’t get some air he would vomit. He rushed to the front doors and violently yanked them open. His eyes were watering and his mouth was filling up with saliva, a sure sign he was about to throw up. He tried to take deep gulps of the cool night air but at the same time he was trying to keep the bile down by swallowing it back every time it threatened to rise up and break free. After much coughing and spluttering he regained his composure. He stood at the doors, leaning against the frame, exhausted by his nausea, looking out into the darkness trying to comprehend what he had just experienced. It wasn’t a smell that should be in a house. Even though he had never smelled death before, somehow he knew it was that what he had inhaled. What made it all the more strange was that he hadn’t smelled a thing at first; it seemed to rush down the stairs at him and engulf him so quickly he didn’t know what had hit him.

Standing on the front doorsteps still leaning against the door frame for support, it all seemed quiet and peaceful outside. There was no wind or noise and the light from the front room spilled out of the huge windows onto the gravel giving it a nice warm glow. The faint breeze seemed to stroke his scalp, running its insubstantial fingers through his hair, the sensation not at all unpleasant. He gave a small sigh. Looking at the garden now, Aiden didn’t know why he had been so creeped out by it before. He briefly wondered what sort of animals would call this place home. He had always been interested in nature since he was small and he would have liked to take a stroll through these woods had this been any other circumstance. Breaking into his thoughts was a dry rustling coming from behind the topiary hedges. He turned to face them and trained his eyes on the hedge he thought the noise had come from. Letting his eyes adjust to the poor light he wasn’t at first startled by what he saw. It was only when his brain caught up with his vision that he realised something wasn’t right. He thought he saw someone watching him from the other side of the garden, from between the trees that lined the drive. When he realised what he had seen he looked back. Looking straight ahead he mentally prepared himself - or at least tried to - for whatever it was his eyes would fall on at any moment now. Letting his gaze settle and his pupils’ contract to the dark, he stood silently and watched. After a couple of excruciatingly long, dread-filled minutes, he tore his eyes from the edge of the woods, now quite certain there was nothing, or indeed, no-one there. Fighting to believe there was a rational explanation for what he thought he had seen he turned to go back inside when he heard an ear-piercing shriek. The noise came once again from behind the topiary hedges. After much deliberation, he decided he should go and check it out. He
should
but he really didn’t
want
to. He knew he had to though; he had to make sure his mum and sister were safe. He didn’t think either one of them had gone outside but what if someone was being attacked and the attacker got into the house? No, he had to go and make sure there was no-one that could harm them out there in the black of the night. As he walked over to the hedges he was aware that the only bit of light came from the full moon, large and round and milky in the sapphire night sky. He silently prayed that no cloud would cover it; otherwise there would be no light whatsoever for him to find his way. He could use the torch app on his phone but that would drain the battery and he didn’t have the charger with him. Why would he? It was supposed to be no more than a few hours away from home. It was a very picturesque full moon and he knew if his mum was with him she would be sighing to herself about not having a camera when such a beautiful sight was right in front of her. He had never before seen the moon so huge. It was like it was as close as possible to the earth without actually landing. He tore his eyes away from the loveliness of it because he was starting to see spots, like when he was young and would stare at a light-bulb for a while for no particular reason other than because he could, only he never knew the moon could have that effect, he didn’t think it was bright enough.

He made his way past the water fountain, not daring to look up at the sickly face of the cherub sat upon the pillar, just in case it had transformed into some hideously grotesque demon, or in case it had come to life and was following his steps with its eyes. He’d rather not know. Shuddering, he kept going, keeping his eyes on the topiary hedges and occasionally glancing back at the house. He knew he should have stayed inside. Looking at the house in this dim light it appeared even more eerie than in day-light; which he didn’t think would be possible. The moon light bounced off the walls and gave the whole house a spooky glow, like it oozed ectoplasm. From where he was now, the moon stood big and bold behind the house like a menacing insane doctor would stand behind his creation of a monster. Although the doors were open and artificial light spilled out onto the front steps and the drive, and although there were some lights on in the windows, it didn’t look at all inviting to him; maybe he was better off outside.

24

As he reached the edge of the topiary bushes he stepped through the gap between them and the wooden fence that divided the drive-way from the surrounding forest. He ventured down the narrow stone pathway that was now over grown with weeds and tall pointy blades of yellowing grass and long-dead rose bushes with their thorns sticking out, threatening to pierce through his jeans and give him a good stab of pain. He came to an area at the very back of the topiary hedges that was fenced off with a low iron barrier that Aiden could easily step over. The grass and weeds here were completely over grown and out of control. The grass stood almost as high as his waist and he found it quite difficult to wade through it. He awkwardly tried to keep his footing while the blades of grass attempted to snag his ankles and pull him to the ground. It was extremely dry and every step he took on his fumbling way was followed by loud crunching sounds as the arid, brittle grass snapped under his movements. He looked back toward the house which was now so far in the distance all he could see were the windows on the third floor. There were no lights on up there. The windows looked so black they looked like they were painted on. There was not one ounce of light that managed to break through. It looked dead. That was the best way he could describe it. The upper floor looked completely dead. He was still walking as he looked at the house and out of nowhere his toe stubbed something very hard, hard enough to make him curse under his breath. Aiden bent down, separating the grass as he did so, to rub his toe through his trainer. He pulled the grass back from where he banged himself and saw a big stone that stood quite high. He pulled more grass back to get a better look, not even feeling the prickle of unrelenting nettles. Perturbed by what he had kicked, he took no notice of the stinging sensation on his left hand and continued to pull back mounds of thick, dry grass until he uncovered what he had kicked.

He sat back on his heels studying the large stone which he had now exposed as a grave stone. Just like the face of the cherub on the water feature, it too was eroding and covered in moss. The moon gave enough light for him to pick out the faint inscription on the front of the grave stone;
“Margaret Reynolds, much loved daughter of Beryl and Arthur, free from harm and pain, 1905-1952, forever in our thoughts, always in our hearts”
.

Aiden stood up when he began to feel the first prickles of pins and needles in his feet. Looking around the area in which he stood he saw the moon light bouncing off the tops of other grave stones jutting out from beneath the grass. He was in fucking cemetery! He was already spooked enough so he turned and left, hurriedly jumping over the small fence that cordoned the grave yard off and losing his footing as he did so. He fell forward and scraped the top layer of skin from his right hand as it shot out in front of him to stop from falling flat on his face. Squeezing back through the gap in the hedges, he was back on the drive-way. Just a little way past the gap, shrouded in the darkness of the woods with just its face poking out was a small red fox. Aiden expected it to high-tail out of his way, as he knew foxes did when confronted with people - being the timid creatures they are - but not this one. He stood and watched Aiden with an uncanny look of interest and total unconcern in his small sparkly eyes. His nose was twitching like he was sniffing out the scent of him as he walked passed, his long whiskers moving with every twitch of his nose and his sleek red fur on the top of his head glistened daintily in the light of the huge moon, making it look like it was fresh blood shining on his (why was he subconsciously referring to it as a “he”?) head, rather than just his fur. Keeping a close eye on this unwanted watcher, Aiden skirted it as quickly and as silently as he could, hoping and praying that it wasn’t rabid. Did foxes even get rabies? He didn’t know and he didn‘t want to find out. At this point he was close enough to see a set of extremely sharp, extremely white teeth, so small, yet so vicious looking they reminded him of rows of needles. He thought he saw intelligence in the creature’s eyes but he was probably just being fanciful and letting his imagination run away from him. Picking up his pace he walked towards the house, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the front doors and his ears listening out for tiny footsteps on the gravel behind him. He wanted to run so badly, but he dared not for fear of provoking the fox.

The wind was calm and refreshing and although he could have done with staying outside for a bit longer, he had an overwhelming desire to get back in the house. He was just approaching the cherub when out of nowhere a strong gust of wind came and whipped up the fallen leaves on the drive. The wind sounded like it was whispering his name over and over; aiden, aiden, aiden… Above the noise of the wind he heard the ear-piercing scream again from behind the topiary hedges. Not caring if the fox gave chase or not now he ran towards the house, needing to be inside and away from the grave yard. His mind was telling him that there would a rational explanation for it all, but he didn’t have time to stop and think what that could be, he just wanted to get inside. As he reached the bottom step to the house the front doors slammed shut on him. Panicking, he rushed up the steps with the thought running through his mind that he wouldn’t be able to get back in, that he would be stuck out here all night…he stood on the top step, ready to give an almighty push, when he turned the door knob and the door opened easily. He ran inside. Just as he was closing the doors he heard the scream again. Having no desire to check it out he slammed the doors shut, but not before he had chance to see the little fox and another two of his friends slowly advancing on him. Jesus, what was the matter with the animals round here?! Why weren’t they scared of him? And he was pretty sure foxes didn’t hunt in packs. There was no way in hell he was going out there again!