The Mansion (6 page)

‘What the?’ Michael said within a gasp
through tear-filled eyes.

‘What is it? How bad is it? It stings and
burns; what’s happened to me?’ Jeremy asked. There was a sense of
exhaustion in his voice.

‘Nothing,’ Michael replied. ‘There’s nothing
wrong with you. The cuts and blood that I saw happening right in
front of me are no longer there. There’s nothing wrong with your
back.’

‘What do you mean? Nothing? I feel like I’ve
been whipped,’ Jeremy said.

Michael put his hand on Jeremy’s back just in
case the angle he was standing was hiding the cuts.

‘There’s nothing wrong with you,’ he said
again.

Michael sat down next to Jeremy, who turned
over and sat motionless too. They both looked at the next door and
then at each other.

‘You sure you heard him up here?’ Jeremy
asked Michael.

‘His voice came from above me,’ Michael
responded.

They both looked at each other again and then
stood and moved towards the last door on the left side of the
hallway.

***

Tony turned the handle of the bedroom door
and pushed. The door swung open slowly with a creak, and he paused
before stepping in. the door creaked as it closed slowly behind
him. He turned and watched it close. When he heard the click of the
lock, he returned his gaze back to the room. The grimy window let
in a strange light cast from the reflection of the snow. He looked
up at the mosaic mirror that covered the ceiling. His body was
stationary, but his eyes were searching it. His eyes widened and
his mouth dropped open as he watched his reflection walk from his
position over to the bed and smile at him. He quickly looked down
at the bed but saw nothing. He returned his gaze to the ceiling,
seeing his reflection now joined by a naked Phoebe. She sat next to
the reflection of Tony, who then pushed her back onto the bed and
buried his face into her naked breasts. Tony looked up and began
shaking his head. Phoebe wrapped her legs around the waist of Tony
and began moaning as she writhed around. The reflection of Tony
then raised his hands above his head, and a long blade glistened in
the low light. The blade was brought down quickly and with force
into Phoebe’s chest. He shouted out as he watched blood spray from
her chest and red splatter fly from the blade each time the
reflection withdrew the blade only to plunge it in again.

Tony forced himself to look at the bed and
saw nothing. His chest began to feel tight, and he was struggling
for breath. He stumbled towards the bed and collapsed onto it,
burying his face into the cold covers. He turned his head to try
and take in as much as air as possible. As he gulped large amounts
of stale-tasting air, he noticed the painting. The skeletons that
sat at the table were all gone. He could feel the tightness begin
to lift and sat up, staring at the picture. A cold wind blasted
from beneath the bed, lifting the sheets that hung over the gap
between the floor and frame. He felt something grab his ankles and
pull. Tony flew forward off the bed, crashing face first to the
floor. He spread his hands out, trying to grip the smooth wooden
floor but could feel whatever was pulling him was winning as he
began to move towards the bed. He turned his head to see what was
pulling him and shrieked when he saw four skulls grinning back at
him, their bony fingers wrapped around his ankles and calves. He
tried to kick but couldn’t create enough space or momentum to knock
the skeletal hands off him.

The skeletons dragged him beneath the bed,
and he reached up in a last-ditch attempt to stop from being pulled
completely under. He rolled onto his back and gripped the bed
sheets, and there was a moment when he felt the sheets give way and
then the weight of them, combined with the tightness of the tucked
in corners, anchored him where he was. He could feel the skeletal
hands begin to claw at the flesh on his legs. He grimaced as he
felt the grating of bony fingers against his shin bone.

There was then a huge sense of relief when
the hands ceased clawing at him. He quickly kicked his legs, using
them to push himself clear of the bed, and he stood quickly. First
he checked the bed and then his legs; he couldn’t see any marks or
tears in his jeans. He moved to the door and pulled at it, but it
didn’t move. Whatever was in the room hadn’t finished with him yet;
he could sense it. He quickly moved to the window and looked out.
The blanket of snow cast an eerie light across the gardens; even
the darkness of the gathered trees were lit by the pureness of the
snow.

A fox ran from beneath the trees and paused
as it looked at the house and the man standing in the window. It
then darted away as if it had seen a predator. Tony watched as
dark, shadowy figures began appearing from beneath the trees. There
was a strange humanness to the shapes, even though their form
constantly changed. For a moment, he wasn’t concerned by the fact
that the wind had begun to swirl around him in the room or that
moments earlier he had been attacked by skeletal figures; he was
mesmerized by the shapeless figures as they glided across the snow
towards the house. He was so transfixed by the black figures that
continued to move from within the trees that he didn’t even notice
the growing white light that had begun to emanate from beneath the
bed.

The figures gathered on the snow-covered
garden beneath the window that Tony stared out of. They then began
to float up into the cold night air until they came level with the
window. Tony continued to stare, his mouth hanging open, his eyes
wide in amazement. His body seemed to be unable to move from the
spot he was standing. A voice in his head screamed at him to get
away from the window and escape the room, but his body refused. The
dark figures hung in front of him, their numbers growing until they
began to melt together, creating a black blanket that covered his
view of the whiteness of the garden. All of a sudden the black
canvass in front of him came alive with hundreds of white eyes
flickering open. His paralysis was broken with a sudden injection
of terror at seeing all the eyes open, and he stumbled backwards.
At last he felt the coldness of the wind against his face and the
glow of the light beneath the bed. His heart pounded, his mind
raced, and he turned to the door and pulled at it, but it still
resisted. He looked up at the mirrored ceiling and saw hundreds of
bright white eyes blinking at him. He looked at the white light
beneath the bed and saw the skeletons who had attempted to drag him
beneath it waving at him. He struggled to breathe as his heart
raced faster and faster, and his lungs struggled to draw in enough
air against the strong wind that blew around the room. Tony turned
back to the door and began shouting and banging on the door. He
tugged at it again and again.

‘You are going to join us,’ a deep voice
sniggered.

The door sprung open, catching Tony off
guard. He fell backwards, his gaze looking up at the hundreds of
white eyes staring at him. He rolled himself up onto his hands and
knees and quickly scuttled out. The moment he crossed the threshold
of the door, it slammed shut. He collapsed onto his back, gasping
for air, and for the first time, he noticed the warm dampness on
his upper leg. He lifted his head and looked at his leg and the
damp patch where his bladder had given up trying to repress its
contents against the terror and fear that surged through his
body.

Jeremy and Michael pushed open the bedroom
door. It opened slightly and then stopped. They exchanged glances,
and Jeremy pushed the door a little harder. It began to move again,
revealing the large four-poster bed in the center of the room
bathed in a strange grey light. They slowly entered, moving quickly
past the bed and to the large window. They stood starring out into
the snow-covered front garden and driveway. They both looked down
at the snow-covered vans that they had parked out front and then
along the fine outline of the driveway border. Michael then grabbed
Jeremy’s arm.

‘What you doing?’ Jeremy asked, pulling his
arm away.

‘Look!’ Michael gasped before pointing out
towards the statues that lined the long drive way.

Jeremy focused hard on the sculptures and
then gasped himself.

Out in the snow-covered driveway, the strange
contorted sculptures moved in swirling movements as if swaying to a
silent piece of music. As they swayed in unison, a slight green hue
surrounded them, making the sight even more sinister and scary.

Behind the two men staring out of the window,
the door slowly closed, and the faint lines on the wallpaper began
to emanate a bright red light,

The click of the door closing caught the
men’s attention. They turned quickly and stared wide-eyed at the
glowing red outline of several large pentagrams. The segments of
the star had small symbols within them. The outer triangles of the
star housed symbols that represented earth, wind, fire, water, and
a circle with a hand print in the center. The large wardrobe began
to vibrate, its doors rattling as if someone were trapped inside
and was trying to get out. Michael grabbed Jeremy’s arm again, who
was so overwhelmed by what he was seeing he didn’t notice his
friend’s hand grip tighter and tighter.

The doors of the wardrobe suddenly burst
open, and the two men were knocked to the floor by the sudden force
of wind that escaped from it. The wind swirled around them. It had
a thickness to it that made it feel like a snake was wrapping
itself around their bodies. The intensity of the pentagram lines
began to increase, before pulsing like a police car’s emergency
lights. With each pulse came a wave of air that blasted the two men
as they sat on the floor. Michael was the first to try and get up
but found that he couldn’t. The sheer weight and density of the
wind that flew around them had pinned him down. Jeremy tried,
straining against the invisible force. He managed to move onto his
knees when he felt a cold hand grab his shoulder. He looked back,
expecting to see Michael holding him but was met by a large black
shadow. He looked up to where the head and face should be but was
met with a dark space with two bright white circles where his eyes
should have been. Jeremy naturally drew in a lung full of stale,
air ready to scream, when the shadowy figure plunged its free black
hand into his open mouth. He could feel his airway begin to
struggle against the smoky obstruction. He swatted at the shadow
figure, but his arm passed straight through it. With every second,
he could feel his life and fight begin to drain away.

Michael sat motionless as his friend fought
against the large dark figure. The wind continued to swirl around
him, pushing him back each time he attempted to move. He began to
shout at the dark shape, cursing at it and pleading for it to stop
and leave them alone.

The figure’s bright white eyes looked down on
the man struggling for air beneath it and blinked.

The wind suddenly disappeared, the shadow was
gone, and the walls were once again bathed in a strange grey
light.

Jeremy began to gasp for air and cough. The
sudden release from the invisible restraint forced Michael to shoot
forward, almost head butting his own bent knee.

The bedroom door clicked and opened slowly.
The two men looked up at it and quickly got to their feet and
exited the room. They pushed themselves through the door into the
hallway to find Tony sitting up with a large wet patch on his
trousers. For a moment they did nothing but stare at each
other.

It was then that they heard the laughter and
music.

The three men looked at the first door in the
hallway. It had been locked when they had tried it earlier but now
it was open. Children’s laughter escaped the room, and a warm
yellow glow shone from the small crack of the open door.

There was more laughter and music coming from
downstairs, unlike the laughter in the bedroom, the several voices
that giggled and laughed out loud were deep, strong, men’s
voices.

‘What do we do?’ Jeremy asked, looking at
Tony for an answer.

Tony shrugged his shoulders and then looked
back at his two friends.

‘We need to find the other two, which means
going in there,’ he said, nodding towards the open door of the
bedroom.

He stood up and pulled his damp trousers away
from his skin. The damp patch returned quickly to its original
position, sending an unpleasant cold, wet feeling to Tony’s brain
and causing him to shiver.

The three men slowly approached the open
door, listening to the laughter and voices as they chattered away.
Tony pushed the door, and it gently creaked open, revealing the
room with a large four-poster and all the photos and paintings on
the walls. They began to enter cautiously when Jeremy stopped
them.

‘Wait, I’m not getting locked in this room.’
He quickly moved to the electrical charge detection machine that
sat smashed in the middle of the hallway. He returned to the door
and placed it against the door frame.

‘If the door tries to close, this will keep
it open,’ he said.

The other two looked at it wedged against the
door frame and then Jeremy nodded and proceeded into the room.

Laughter echoed around them, and the light
from the small crystal chandelier cast a strange yellow hue onto
the picture-covered walls. The light seemed to have a texture—a
movement about it. It was this that intrigued Jeremy, who walked
over to the wall that was covered in photographs and leaned into
it, getting as close as her could without touching it. His eyes
focused on the thin streamer-like lines that gently oscillated. He
turned and looked at the chandelier and then back to the wall.
What is making this movement?
He thought to himself.

The other two walked around the large
four-poster bed, watching as the sheets gently rose and fell as if
someone were breathing from within the mattress, causing the sheets
to rise in the form of a hill and then fall quickly as if being
sucked back. They looked at each other. Michael continued to shake.
Tony could see his fellow investigators hands and arms vibrating
rapidly. He looked down at his own hands and lifted them slightly
and noticed their tremor.