The Mansion (5 page)

***

Michael searched the phone’s previous calls
until he found the name Bannister next to a number. He pressed the
screen, put it to his ear, and waited while it rang. When he heard
the ring stop and someone breathe on the other end, Michael quickly
began telling Mr. Bannister that they needed help and the door
unlocked. He then waited for a response.

The heavy breathing on the other end
continued for a few seconds and then a low gravelly voice spoke:
‘Come join us. Be our guest.’

Michael moved the phone away from his ear and
looked at it; it then burst into flames. He automatically dropped
the phone to the floor and stood up from the chair he had been
sitting on. The moment the phone hit the floor, the flames
disappeared.

He looked at the monitors and scoured them to
see where his partners were. He finally saw them running down the
hallway upstairs; the small detector continued to flash wildly as
they went from door to door. He then heard a thud—and then another
and another. It sounded like someone was jumping up and down in the
room above him. He stared at the ceiling as more and more heavy
banging sounds erupted. He then heard a voice—a voice that called
out to him—a voice he knew well. It was the voice of his friend
John.

‘Where are you?’ Michael called, spinning
round as he looked up at the ceiling.

‘Help me,’ John’s voice called again.

Michael looked at the monitors and saw that
Tony and Jeremy were still in the hallway upstairs banging on the
doors. He heard John’s cry for help once more and decided to join
the other investigators upstairs searching the rooms. He wasn’t
bothered about Phoebe; he wanted to find his best friend.

***

Tony and Jeremy tried the first door and
found it to be locked. Tony beat his fist against it and called
Phoebe’s name, but no answer came. The sensor that was flashing
began to beep rapidly, causing Jeremy to pause as he tried the next
door.

What was it that John said?
He thought
to himself.
The stronger the static charge near or around the
sensor, the quicker the flashes and the louder the alarm will
beep.

The beeping increased in time with the
pulsing lights and began to increase in level.

Jeremy tried the door and it sprang open. For
a moment everything was still and quiet, and then something pulled
him into the room. The door slammed behind him. Tony saw his fellow
investigator suddenly disappear out the corner of his eye. He
turned and ran to the door, shoulder-barging it as hard as he
could, and there was no resistance; the door gave way, and he fell
into the room, crashing against the large crystal chandelier
projector. The walls were awash with the grim pictures that were
encased within it, and a strong cold wind blew around the room,
making the crystals gently jingle as they moved. The pictures on
the wall also moved, but not because of the wind blowing the
chandelier. The pictures on the wall were alive. It was like
watching a number of small movies on a cinema screen, only this one
showed how the people that he had seen earlier were mutilated and
killed. Hooded figures tortured the people with knives, spears, and
burning torches.

He forced himself to look away, searching the
room for his friend. Tony saw a leg and then another. He crawled
along the floor until he found Jeremy, who was sitting up against
one of the walls. His arms were stretched out straight against the
wall and his eyes were wide and didn’t blink; they looked like they
had been glued open. They streamed with tears as the wind brushed
against them and flung dust and dirt into them.

Tony grabbed Jeremy by the jumper and pulled,
but he didn’t move. He grabbed the jumper with his other hand and
pulled again, and this time there was a little movement. He tugged
again, and slowly Jeremy began to peel from the wall. Once he was
free from whatever force had stuck him to the wall, Tony dragged
him back to the opening of the room and back through the open door
into the hallway. The moment they had cleared the door frame, the
door slammed shut.

Michael stopped his run when he saw the other
two crawl out of the room. The beeping from the sensor was now a
high-pitched wail.

‘I heard John calling for help,’ he
shouted.

The other two lay on their backs, staring up
at him, mouthing and gesticulating that they couldn’t hear him.

Michael stepped over them and ran to the
sensor. He paused and then stamped his foot down as hard as he
could. He repeated the stamping until all was silent. He ran back
to the other two men, who were now sitting up, and repeated his
message. They looked at each other and then stood quickly.

‘I’ll check the rooms on the right, and you
and Jeremy search the rooms on the other side,’ Tony said
quickly.

***

Phoebe put her hands against the glass window
of the children’s bedroom. The sharp, cold feeling momentarily
stopped all other feelings until the numerous voices once again
filled her head.

‘Stay with us,’ they said collectively.

She turned around and saw several faint
children’s figures dance around the room in front of her. It was
like watching a sped up movie, where the person being shot is
blurred by the speed of the film. She could tell that there were
several because of the different colored dresses or shirts that
they wore in their blurred appearance. She felt the strong biting
wind that she felt at the bottom of the staircase wrap its coldness
around her like a blanket. The next feeling she had was that of
small hands holding her arms and legs. They began to pull her away
from the window towards the pile of toys. Phoebe fought against the
force that was pulling her. She grabbed the window frame with her
fingertips and pulled. The adrenaline that surged around her body
fought back against the fear and the hands that pulled at her.

‘Don’t go, we want you to stay,’ the voices
chanted in unison.

For a moment, the hands let go. Phoebe
re-established her place in front of the window and began pounding
her hands against the pane. Outside, a crow flew past idly, its
blackness dirtying the light grey clouds and whiteness of the
untouched snow. Its eyes catching glimpsed a woman banging against
a window, but there was no sound.

The cold wind increased in strength—as did
the voices. They no longer called for her to stay; they now
screamed at her in anger that she wanted to leave.

Phoebe felt the hands grab her body once
more. This time they pinched at her skin and pulled at her hair.
She screamed as she continued to fight against the invisible force,
once again clinging to the frame of the window by her fingers. The
voices got louder and louder, shouting and screaming at her.

‘You are like the others!’

‘You will stay here forever! You will not
leave us!’

Amongst the young childlike voices were a few
deeper, older ones. These shouted at her and bullied her
senses.

‘You whore, we won’t let you leave.’

‘You are going to suffer like all the others,
you bitch.’

Tears flowed freely down her face as she
fought to hold onto the window frame. She managed to scream and
shout for help before using her remaining energy and fight to pull
against the hands that tugged at her.

Out of the corner of her tear-filled eye, she
noticed a bright light begin to grow. She didn’t want to look, but
she couldn’t help herself. From within the pile of toys, a bright
white light began to shine. The toys surrounding it all held out
their hands towards her as if it was they who were pulling her
towards them. The light grew in size and brightness, and she could
make out several figures standing on either side of the mountain of
toys: boys and girls all laughing at her. She turned her face and
looked to the window and her fingers. Standing in front of her was
a young girl, her hair not being disturbed by the strong wind that
circled the room, her dress, white with embroidered red roses, had
a red stain around its neck. As Phoebe stared into the young girl’s
pale face, she could see the long red open wound running around her
throat. The young girl smiled at Phoebe and then began prying her
fingers from the window frame. Each time the girl pulled a finger
from it, Phoebe could feel the iciness of the girls touch. When the
strength of the pulling hands over came the last two of her
resisting fingers, Phoebe was pulled towards the light and the pile
of toys. Phoebe’s wide eyes stared at the young girl, who waved at
her. She tried to let out a final scream, but nothing escaped her
mouth before her body was pulled into the space between the toys
created by the bright white light.

Phoebes’ last vision of the outside world
before all went black was several children’s faces peering into the
hole she was being sucked into and smiling.

The moment the light died, the door burst
open. Tony stood at the doorway breathing heavily. He had been
wrestling with the door for a few minutes, fighting against either
a strong wind that pushed the door closed each time he attempted to
open it or an invisible force that teased him by allowing him to
open the door slightly only to push it shut again.

Tony’s eyes scoured the room. For the
briefest of seconds, he saw the figure of a young girl standing by
the window. He did a double take, but what or whoever he saw was
gone. He walked over to the window and peered out. The snow covered
landscape encapsulated him. Even though it was night, the light
from the snow clouds and snow on the ground enabled him to see most
of the garden. His moment of solace was broken by the giggles and
laughter of children and the echoing cry for help from Phoebe.

He called her name and waited, and her cry
for help came again. He found it hard to pinpoint where her cry had
come from due to the reverberation. He ran out of the room, into
the corridor, and on to the next room.

Jeremy and Michael paused outside the next
bedroom door. They both put an ear to it and listened. When they
heard nothing, they smiled to each other and removed their ears
before Jeremy turned the handle and pushed the door open. The large
four-poster bed with the stained mattress sat in the darkness of
the room, its outline just visible. Jeremy slid his hand along the
wall. The last thing he wanted was to enter the room completely
until there was enough light to see everything in there.

The chandelier burst into life, the small
spots of light covering the walls and floor. A strong cold breeze
moved around the room, causing the crystals of the light fixture to
sway, the lights that they cast danced around the room, and the
light chinking sound of them colliding added to the effect. The
four-poster bed and its stained mattress stood somewhat proud in
the center of the room. A strong damp smell attacked their senses.
The smell was so strong that it also had a taste. They stepped into
the room together and moved slowly towards the bed. They were so
close together that to an outsider looking in they would have
thought they were joined at the hip. As they moved around the room,
they could hear the carpet beneath them give off squelching noises.
They both paused looked down and saw that they were standing on a
large dark stain. As they pushed down with their weight, thick red
liquid spurted up over their shoes.

‘What the hell is that? Please don’t tell me
that is blood,’ Michael said.

Jeremy moved his feet around, displacing more
of the liquid, and shrugged his shoulders before moving over to the
bed. Michael stayed where he was and just stared at his feet. The
cold breeze that had made the crystals move on the chandelier began
to build in strength, its iciness making the two investigators
shiver. The crystals began to chime louder and louder as they
crashed together, causing the dancing lights to become blurred
lines and circles as some began to rotate. Michael quickly moved
towards Jeremy; he didn’t want to be on his own even if by a few
meters. A red liquid began to seep from the large stains on the
walls, and it flowed down to the floor and began to pool on the
carpet.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ Michael shouted
against the now strong wind blowing around the room. He looked back
at the door, and it was still open.

‘Ok there’s nothing in here anyway,’ Jeremy
shouted back.

They both turned and began moving to the open
door. They had made only two steps each towards it when it slammed
shut, and a deep voice began laughing.

They looked at each other, tears beginning to
well up in Michael’s eyes again. It had always been fun, sharing
the odd scare here and there on ghost hunting nights with John;
they were the ones who always had an answer to whatever happened;
they were Tony’s debunkers. Never in his wildest dreams would he
have thought he would have to deal with anything like this.

Jeremy turned and pulled at the door handle.
He may have been the more religious one of the group, but this was
way above his expertise.

They both began shouting for help, and the
swirling cold wind that raced around the room forced them to shout
as loud as they could.

‘You are my guests! Let me entertain you,’
the voice said. It was as if the cold wind were speaking to them
because the voice was clear and unhindered by the wind’s noise.

There was a cracking sound, and a heartbeat
later, Jeremy sank to his knees. He screwed his face in agony.
There was another cracking sound, and he screamed in pain once
again. He arched his back as bloody slits appeared on his brown
jumper.

Michael stared at his colleague, mesmerized
by the bloody whip marks appearing before his eyes.

‘Stop it,’ he screamed.

The voice laughed once more.

The wind began to die, and the clanging of
the chandelier eased. The lights cast by the crystals returned to
slow, swaying dots. The door opened slightly, forcing Michael to
jump. He pulled at it, flinging it open until it crashed against
the wall. Michael grabbed Jeremy by the armpits and dragged him
into the corridor. Once clear of the room, the door slammed shut
once more. Michael quickly moved to where he could see Jeremy’s
back and the bloody cuts he had witnessed in the room. Jeremy
remained on all fours, his breathing heavy.