Lisa's Private Thoughts, December 24th, 2017: "My Christmas Ghost Story" Part-V

 

For a moment I said nothing as I gathered my thoughts. Finally, I breathed, "If this were an old movie, this is the point where I'd ask what you meant was going to happen. But I already know. You mean that sweet little boy I met upstairs is about to experience his death at his sister's hands all over again, don't you?" 

Mr. Billings gave me a sad smile. "I'm afraid so. Ever since that terrible night, the family and anyone within these walls will hear the entire scene play out and ending with bloodcurdling screams.” 

I winced, I couldn’t help myself. The thought of that sweet boy I’d met being murdered at the hands of his own flesh and blood. All for the love of a man... wait, 'follow the money'.

Turning away from the fire I turned to my host and asked, “Mr. Billings, what became of Miss Madeleine and her young man? Did they get away?"

My new friend shook his head sadly. "No, they did not. Nor did they ever marry, not that the scoundrel ever intended to follow through on that promise to Miss Madeleine."

That was all I needed to hear. Nodding I said aloud, "He only wanted her dowry, or her mother's jewels in this case."

Mr. Billings gave me a smile and nodded, "You have a very keen mind, Miss Lisa. You are correct of course."

As he spoke another thought occurred to me. "Madeleine and her brother where here when their parents had their carriage accident. Does anyone know where her suitor was that day?"

"Well done, Miss!" my host exclaimed, beaming at me. "Alas, at the time no one had asked. However, his whereabouts were uncovered a year later at his murder trial."

I did a double-take. "His trial? I thought Madeleine had acted alone when she killed her brother? Or did her boyfriend turn around and kill her after he got the jewels?"

Billings sighed and looked at the clock again. "I see it's only 9:13, so we still have time. I'm afraid I didn't tell you everything about the haunting because I didn't want to upset you further. You see, it doesn't end with Master Reginald's final screams echoing throughout the manor. I'm afraid, there's still more. But first, I must tell you the rest of what happened that terrible night. A servant had come back unexpectedly and heard the commotion upstairs and went to investigate. He'd just reached the top of the stairwell when shouting was replaced by a terrifying scream. Recognizing the voice as that of his mistress', he rushed to the playroom to find Miss Madeleine stooped over her brother's body before the fireplace. She was in a terrible shaking the boy and screaming his name. Naturally, he thought she had simply come home and found her brother in this condition, so he drew nearer to comfort her. Unfortunately, she had no inkling that he had entered the room and was startled when he placed a hand on her shoulder. Whirling to face him several of her mother's jewels, which she'd been clutching in one hand fell to the floor. Now, this man was a close confidante of Sir Peter and knew about his suspicions regarding Miss Madeleine's suitor. And he had been present when Sir Peter had told his nephew not to give in to his sister's requests for money or access to her mother's jewelry. So when he saw them in her hand he realized what had happened. 'Oh Miss Madeleine, tell me you didn't...' he began, but she cut him off shouting, 'They were rightfully, mine. If he'd only told me they were here when I asked the first time I wouldn't have lost my temper. I only meant to push him away... I didn't mean for him to hit his head and..." but instead of finishing her words, she rushed past him and out of the room. In her panic, she turned the wrong way and instead of heading for the stairs, she wound up running towards the balcony that overlooks this room. She was so terrified of having been caught, she kept looking over her shoulder and never realized her mistake until she hit the bannister and..."

Here he turned to stare at a spot on the floor just a few feet from where we were seated. 

Now I fully understood. "After the screams she appears at the railing and falls to her death in front of anyone who's in this room," I breathed.

My friend nodded solemnly. "Which is why Sir Peter, and all his descendants have made sure no one is in the mansion during the hour between 9 and 10 on Christmas Eve."

I blew out a breath and sat back in my chair. Now I understood the reason for the mass at the chapel. But I still had a few more questions. "Mr. Billings, you said her young man was hanged for murder a year later, correct?"

"That I did," he nodded watching me carefully. 

"So they found out he was the one who had shot the parents' driver leading to the crash that killed them?" I pressed.

"Yes, but that wasn't what he was on trial for at the time," my host explained. "You see, as I told you earlier, the young man had been engaged before only to have his fiancee' die shortly before their wedding."

I sat upright at that. "Unexpectedly?" I inquired.

My host nodded.

I continued, "Did he have any other fiancees who passed away 'unexpectedly'?"

Once more my host beamed at me. "Indeed he did. You see, some months before the carriage accident Sir Peter had been at a party with a an old friend who spotted the young man there with them. The friend had mentioned the young man's misfortune but had referred to him by a different name. At first Sir Peter simply assumed his friend had been mistaken. But then he remembered his friend was a sharpshooter back in their regiment days. And the man had spotted the young fellow at a distance. That was what first raised his suspicions about his niece's suitor. He began to start looking into the matter, but with letters taking time, it his investigation was not coming along as quickly as he'd like. Still, he had found out enough to tell his brother to not agree to the match until he could learn more."

"But after Madeleine and her brother's deaths, he finally got the proof he'd been looking for," I concluded.

"Just in the nick of time too," Billings told me. "He was already engaged to another young lady of considerable wealth with no family, who had recently become inexplicably ill."

I nodded. "Like I said before, follow the money. So he was only after wealth, not love. Which means Madeleine would've suffered a similar fate if her brother had given in to her requests."

"Yes, she would have," Billings nodded, "But it wasn't just for money, if you get my meaning, miss."

My eyes widened at that. "He liked killing young women?"

"Young women mostly, but because they were in his way he'd made an exception with her parents."

"Oh that is sick," I breathed and shook my head as the enormity of the tragedy upstairs hit me. "In his own way her brother was inadvertently saving her life, even if he didn't realize it. Only to lose it at her hands, for a man who would've taken hers eventually. If only she'd known and now they're both stuck... wait a minute. I was able to interact with Reginald earlier. And he told me Nathan had actually tried speaking with his sister... which means, they aren't completely stuck playing out the tragedy."

Mr. Billings rose to his feet and said gravely, "Oh, miss I know what you're thinking, but it won't work. Others have tried and failed. Master Nathan is only the latest. And while I admire his determination to try and free those two poor children from their torment, I don't think it will work. Miss Madeleine is very obstinate when it comes to anyone telling her..."

"You've tried to intervene as well!" I exclaimed getting to my feet.

"Yes, I have," he nodded sadly. "And I've not been able to get through to her, try as I might I just cannot get her to understand. She won't listen..."

"Not to any man, she won't," I cut in, my mind was racing at this point. "Think about it, first her father, then her uncle, then her own brother? All men, telling her she couldn't be with the man she thought loved her."

"Miss Lisa, I see where you're going with this but it's dangerous," my companion cried and glanced at his watch once more. "Master Nathan found that out the last time he tried." 

This time he didn't look over at the clock but at one of the large windows. I followed his gaze and saw this particular window looked out upon a three tiered fountain, with a finial top. It was rimmed with snow and ice, and brightly lit by strings of Christmas lights wrapped around its tiers. While it was quite pretty, I couldn't understand why my new friend was staring at it. Suddenly, a figure falling from a great height, landed on top of the fountain amidst a shower of glass. I fell back with a scream, luckily Billings kept me from falling. After regaining my composure, I raced to the window and looked out at the fountain. 

There was no figure impaled on the the finial. Nor was there any sign of broken glass or footprints leading away from the area. Immediately, I thought back to my chat with Reginald when we were discussing Nathan "He had and accident. My sister..." 

"Miss Lisa?" Billings was at my side his eyes full of worry.

"She threw Nathan out the window of the playroom," I breathed and then looked at him. "That's what you mean by she's dangerous. His attempt at intervening only got her pissed and she threw him out the window. Didn't she?"

Billings nodded. "It's 9:20, I really must get you out of here. Let Master Nathan deal with things, I believe he has a plan."

"What plan?" I asked he led me out of the Great Hall and into foyer. 

"I'm not sure, but there's something his Lordship has been seeking for some time. If Master Nathan is here, no doubt he's helping in the search. With it, they may be able to finally reach Miss Madeleine and help break the cycle..." the rest of his words seemed to grow more annoying as a wave of anger swept over me.

Without meaning to I suddenly snapped, "And you think only a man can bring me to my senses! How dare you, talk down to me. You're just like every other man. Only my Cedric understands and listens to me. We actually have conversations and he encourages me to share my thoughts and feeling and discusses them with me..." I finally caught myself and shook my head. Such anger. Madeleine hadn't just been frustrated, she was in a full blown rage! 

"You're a sensitive," my guide whispered, looking at me with a mixture of fear and wonder. "I had no idea. If I had realized it sooner, I would've never kept you here so long. We must get you out of here, Miss Lisa."

But I was already sensing Reginald's growing discomfort from upstairs. We were right next to the staircase, and I couldn't help looking up the steps. "She's already with him, trying to be nice but she's growing impatient, and he can sense something's not right." 

"Master Nathan..."

"Even if he has something, I don't think she's going to listen to him," I interrupted.

Just then shouts erupted from upstairs and I could sense Reginald's discomfort had now become full blown terror.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Lisa's Private Thoughts, December 24th, 2017: "My Christmas Ghost Story" Part-IV

                                         

I tried the doors again, in case the handles had become frozen or something. But as soon as my hands touched them a voice behind me spoke.

"I'm afraid his lordship locked them, Miss. And he has the only keys."

I'd love to say I wasn't spooked and kept my cool, but... I jumped and whirled around, before catching myself. There before me was a man in his late 40's I'd guess, and in keeping with the theme of evening, he was dressed in the livery of a 19th century servant. He had a kind face and a gentle, if somewhat sad smile.

"But don't worry, I'm sure we can find another way out so you can join the others at the chapel," he continued and pulled out an old pocket watch. "Although, I see we should be quick. You don't want to be here... I mean missing mass. The chapel is always beautifully done up at this time of year."

Me being me, I immediately caught that little hesitation and said innocently. "Is it? Well, that sounds wonderful. We can go together. I'm not sure I could find it in the dark by myself."

"Oh, you'll find it all right," the man replied, but a little too quickly. "I have duties to perform before everyone returns."

"I see," I nodded and started to follow him through the foyer. "Will you be checking on the little boy upstairs?" I asked, remembering my little friend with the cold.

The man suddenly stopped. Then without turning to look at me he said, "Little boy? Upstairs?"

"Yes, I met him when I was looking for a place to hide while we played Sardines. His name is Reginald."

This time the man's shoulders slumped visibly as he bowed his head. "You were in the old playroom," he murmured, "And he's still there... I had so hoped..." His words trailed off but I was certain I caught the words "poor boy."

At the same time I felt a chill race down my spine. I know many people use that phrase to describe an uneasy feeling, but in my case it usually meant I was picking up on the fact that things were not what they seemed. I took a step closer to the man and asked very gently, "What's wrong with him? He told me he had a cold, but there's more to it. Isn't there?"

The man nodded. "I'm afraid so. The poor child has had that cold a very long time."

Nathan has told me more than once that he believes I have psychic powers and... maybe I do. I'm not sure. I personally believe that I'm just more sensitive to things that others miss. I admit, there was that one time in Germany where we'd come across the site of where a concentration camp had stood, although there was nothing to mark it had ever been there. And I do have dreams every so often, some of which come true or seem to act as a warning, but it's not like I can control any of this. It just happens. But right now that chill down my spine was telling me that my 'sensitivity' was acting up again, and I wanted to know more. "He's not alive, is he?" I whispered.

My guide nodded sadly. "It happened on Christmas Eve, many years ago. During the reign of Good Queen Victoria."

"How sick was he?" I asked shaking my head. 

"Oh, that isn't what killed him," the man told me. "It was his sister. She killed him, in that very room."

Reginald's words, "She's mad at me. Or at least, it seems like she's always mad at me..." suddenly echoed inside my head. "Why?" I asked, "Did she hate him that much?"

"Oh, no," my companion replied, shaking his head seriously. "No, they were quite devoted to each other. It was..." again he trailed off.

"Please, Mr....," I paused and silently cursed myself for not having asked the man his name. This made twice I'd done that in one night. 

Luckily, he wasn't bothered. Instead he gave me a smile and said, "Billings, Miss. Arthur Billings. I've served both his lordship and his father before him."

"A pleasure to meet you Mr. Billings," I told him and meant it. He seemed so nice. "I'm Lisa, I'm here with my parents and Nathan Steward. Would you please tell me what happened?"

He seemed to think it over, saying, "You're with Master Nathan? He's come back, then?" Finally , he nodded. "Come let's sit, and I'll tell what I can." With that he led me back to the Great Hall. 

As we walked, I kept thinking, 'First Reginald, now Mr. Billings... Nathan must be trying to find a way to end the haunting. But why? And what happened with the sister and Nathan?' I had so many questions. Luckily, I was about to get all the answers, or so I thought.

Mr. Billings guided me to my favorite chair near the great fireplace. After making sure I was comfortable, he moved closer to the fire and began his tale.

"It all started in the summer of the same year that the tragedy happened. Miss Madeleine had met and fallen for a young man she'd met in London. At first everything seemed innocent and proper enough, but then whispers about the young man reached his lordship's ears. It seems just the year before the fellow had been engaged to another young woman, who shortly after their engagement took ill and passed away." 

"How tragic," I remarked, watching the storyteller closely. Although his countenance (I picked up this word recently from being here in England) was flat, I could also detect the slightest touch of bitterness in his tone. Clearly, there was more behind this part of the story, but I kept quiet as he continued.

"Indeed it was," Billings nodded solemnly, "Anyway, his lordship began having second thoughts about the relationship which led to a number of disagreements with his daughter. The girl was eager to get engaged, but his lordship refused to supply a dowry until his worries were put to rest. Things continued this way throughout the summer and into the Autumn, when the lord and lady were both killed in a carriage accident. Apparently, the horses became spooked and bolted for reasons that remained a 'mystery'."

I felt my eyebrows shoot up at that. "What about the driver? What did he have to say about what happened?"

The narrator smiled. "You have an keen mind," he told me, then continued. "Unfortunately, the driver was also killed in the crash. Being on the outside of the carriage he suffered many injuries, especially about the head. But there were a couple of things that bothered his lordship's brother, Sir Peter, who was also a magistrate. Something about the injury did not fit with the rest of those the man had suffered."

"What were they?" I asked leaning forward. 

"Well," Mr. Billings began, "The man had been thrown from the coach, yet there were bloodstains on the driver's seat..."

"Which meant he'd been injured before the carriage crashed," I finished, as my brain went into overdrive. He had mentioned the horses had been spooked, so what could spook a horse? "Someone shot the driver, knowing the sound would spook the horses and there'd be no one to try and reign them in."

Mr. Billings nodded, "Those were Sir Peter's very thoughts. Unfortunately, with no witnesses, there was no way to prove what happened. The horses' could've been spooked by wolves or some other predator, and the man could've hit his head against a low branch as he tried to regain control of the animals. In the end, the inquest concluded death by misadventure."

I shook my head. "That's ridiculous. Clearly, someone wanted the parents out of the way. All you have to do is follow the money and..." 

A horrid thought suddenly came to me, and it must have shown on my face for the storyteller added, "Mind you, Miss Madeleine and her brother were here at the manor when the incident occurred.  They were both quite devastated when their uncle told them what had happened. It was especially hard for the boy, since he was the male heir, the title of Lord, along with the manor and its lands came to him. However, due to his young age, their uncle took charge of overseeing things until the boy became of age. And before you ask, Sir Peter was quite a wealthy man with considerable holdings of his own, so he had no reason to want anything to happen to his brother and sister-in-law."

Nodding I stared into the flames of the fireplace, as my mind began working through everything I'd just been told. From what I could see, the only other person who might wants the parents out of the way would be Madeleine's suitor. But with the title and everything going to her brother, how could he gain from their deaths.  Suddenly my mind went back to Reginald telling me about his sister arguing with their uncle, and quickly put two and two together.  "Let me guess, Madeleine started appealing to her uncle to allow her to get engaged. Which would mean a dowry would have to be supplied for her."

My host nodded.

Sighing I fell back into the wing-backed chair I was sitting on. "And of course, he refused because his brother had no doubt told him about the rumors involving her young man."

"Actually, Sir Peter was one of the people who brought those reports it to his brother's attention," Billings corrected me.

I blew out a breath. "Wow! And when she found that out, she started appealing to her brother to talk to their uncle override him."

"She did indeed," Billings replied. "Unfortunately, with Reginald being so young, Sir Peter simply told the young lord his father had concerns about the match without going into details. And that was enough for the young lad and he did not press the issue further, thus making his sister even more angry with the boy." Here the storyteller paused and stared into the fire. 

I didn't say anything at first, because I was starting to compare my own situation to Madeleine's. I had been in love with Nathan for years, but was always told I had to wait until I was older before he'd consider the idea. Well, I was 20 now, and still he was making me wait. But I was willing to, whereas Madeleine... what had her situation been?

As if reading my thoughts, Billings spoke again. "Then as the Christmas season drew near, things came to a head. The suitor began pressing Madeleine to get whatever she could and join him. Apparently, he had told her that he had debts that were coming due, and if he could not pay them, he might have to accept the advances of another woman with money who was eager to be his bride. Not that he loved the other woman, mind you. But, if his circumstances did not improve soon, he'd be ruined both financially and in the eyes of society. Not wanting such a fate to befall the man she loved, Madeleine decided to find a way to get her mother's jewelry, which were worth quite a fortune themselves. But to do so, she needed to get her brother to tell her what had become of them. You see, when the estate was being discussed after the will had been read, she had not been in the room. So only her uncle and brother knew what had become of them. And she wasn't about to ask her uncle."

"So that was why she had started acting nicer to her brother," I murmured, "She was hoping to get Reginald to tell her where they were, then she and her betrothed would elope on Christmas Eve and begin a new life together."

"Exactly," nodded Mr. Billings and then looked over at the grandfather clock against the far wall, which read 9:10. "It's getting close to time," he said, changing the subject. "I really should be getting you on your way to the chapel. They'll be worried about what's become of you, Miss."

Instead of getting up, I remained in my seat. Several things had been nagging at me since meeting my host. "Mr. Billings," I began politely, "Why does his lordship hold mass in the chapel between nine and ten? I've heard of midnight mass, or even mass at eleven, but nine seems like a very odd time. And why does he not want anyone to remain in the manor, that he even orders the doors locked?"

The man bowed his head, pulled a chair up in front of me and sat down. "Because at 9:25, something terrible is going to happen. The same thing that has taken place within these walls ever since that terrible Christmas Eve."

TO BE CONTINUED...

LISA'S "PRIVATE THOUGHTS" - OCTOBER 22ND, 2014 "Something Bad Is Coming" Part - II

                             

While I continue to watch the land slowly being bathed by the morning’s rays, the leading edge of the light begins to touch the edge of the dairy farm and halts.  Well, not exactly.  The light continues to stretch across the land, but it does so by going AROUND a portion of the farm, in particular the barn.  It’s almost as if that area has a barrier around it, which is repelling the dawn’s rays.  

At first I shake my head, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me.  Perhaps some trees are casting a shadow over that spot, but no.  What I’m seeing is not a shadow, it’s something else, something sinister. 

As I continue to watch, the edge of sunlight slowly closes around the dark area around the barn and continues to spread across the land.  That is of course when my mind starts thinking about Timothy Spratt and what my father had told me.  At this point I’ve usually woken up.  But last night the dream kept going.

Tearing my gaze away from the ‘shadowed’ barn I begin to study the rest of the town, to see if the effect is repeated anywhere else.  To my horror, it does.  Here and there, I notice a few other ‘blemishes’ appear in other parts of the town.  But the pattern is so sporadic, there does not appear to be any rhyme or reason to their locations.  It’s as if all that lay before me was a painting and someone had flicked a brush covered in some dark translucent stain across a canvas, marring the beauty of the scene.

None of it seems to make any sense… that is until the light reaches the grounds of the church.  It’s there that I see a much more heavy concentration of dark spots, mostly around a number of headstones in the newer sections of the graveyard.  Immediately I remember the Professor, I mean Otto, telling me and Marisa that the Ghoul-Slime... or Funus Sobrere (which is latin Corpse Absorber… see I’m already learning from him) preferred bodies of the recently deceased.  

       This of course reinforces my first impression that Tim Spratt may have been one of the creature’s earliest victims, having seen the darkness around the barn.  But at the same time it doesn’t explain why I’m being shown this ‘overview’ of the town.  Are all these blemishes places where the Funus Sobrere had been?  And if so, why was there no other reports of people/animals dying or disappearing?

Then, as if in answer to my unspoken question my eyes drift, seemingly of their own volition, away from the church grounds to one of the other larger buildings in shadows.  It’s one of the medical buildings over on Clearwater Street.  Specifically, it’s the one that contains the local diagnostic lab.  I’ve had bloodwork done there and so has pretty much everyone in town.  There have been no deaths there that I can recall… then I remember the place had a break in and samples stolen…

Including ones that belonged to Marisa’s dad, which would explain how “Ghoul-Boy”… I mean the Funus Sorbrere knew about her father’s condition when it confronted us.  A chill runs through my body at the realization that the creature had actively been seeking out who would make a nice fresh corpse in the near future for it to absorb.

‘But the thing is dead,’ I tell myself in the dream.  ‘Tony… Pastor Gregory’s brother, who it had taken over, had destroyed himself and it in fire.  It’s gone, we’re all safe… right?’

By then a feeling of doom has taken hold and I look back to the rest of the town which has now been completely revealed, blemishes and all, by the morning sun.  All is quiet… almost too quiet.

Then I see the edges of each dark patch begin to move.  It’s a slow but steady movement.  Those closest to each other meet and become a larger patch and continue to spread, seemingly more rapidly because of their greater size.  In the churchyard this happens more quickly, since so many of the graves had been violated and tainted by the Funus Sorbrere. 

I’m rooted to the spot, helpless to stop the progression as the blight spreads darkening more and more of my hometown.  Then I notice the farthest edge of the encroaching shadow begins begins to reach the outer edge of Nathan’s family estate and stops.

"Of course, Nathan was able to beat it to a standstill back in the cemetery when he came to save me and Marisa," I breathe with the first rays of hope.  Then I remember he's gone to ground... "Which means he's not here to protect us," I murmur sadly.

     And that's when the nightmare really begins. 

     It's almost as if the blight heard my words, because suddenly the darkness spreads like a wildfire.  It crashes past whatever was holding it back from my godfather's estate, sweeping over it cause plants to die and trees to wither.  The manor itself begins to darken and age just before collapsing in on itself, while my hometown is swept in shadow and I hear the first screams of terror arise...

     That's when I finally woke up to find the screams were coming from my own mouth.   Naturally my parents came rushing into my room to find out what had happened, and then spent the next hour comforting me.  Both kept reassuring me that there had been no new reports of graves being violated or disappearances of people or animals.  Still, I can't help shaking the feeling that something is coming and I'm certain Nathan will be our only chance of stopping it.

      I can't tell Marisa about the dream because I know she's been anxious about her dad.  She and her Mom are waiting for the latest lab results to come back and I don't want to burden her with my worries.  I'd talk to Otto but he's out of town.  I could e-mail him, but first I want to go to Nathan's place and check on Isabella's grave, where he went to ground with her ghost, to see if there's any change.  If I don't see anything, then I'll contact Otto for sure and ask what I should do next.  

       Damn, almost time for school.  I'll wrap things up here and report back once I've been to Nathan's place this evening.  I pray this is all just my imagination but if it isn't and there's no sign of him coming back, I don't know what we'll do.

Author's Note: Hello everyone, Allan here. I'm sorry to inform you all that my mother passed away just a week ago. She had been unwell for some months now, which combined with my own health problems, have been mostly responsible for the lack of new stories and regular updates on this blog. This will probably continue through to the end of this year, for which I sincerely apologize. So much has been going on in our lives, but we'll be trying to provide you all with updates and other entertaining posts, so please stay tuned. And thank you all for your continuing support of us and this blog. Hope you all had a Happy and Safe Halloween.

Sincerely,

Allan and Helen Krummenacker

LISA’S “PRIVATE” THOUGHTS - OCTOBER 22nd, 2014 "Something Bad Is Coming" Part-I

 *It's the spooky season gang, and I'm still dealing with some health as well as family crisis back east. So, my writing efforts have been sorely impeded. However, I wanted to give you something for the season. And since I have been working on the 2nd Vampyre Blogs novel "The Vampyre Blogs - Family Ties", which is a direct sequel to "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home", a sneak peek into that 2nd installment seemed appropriate. 

For those not familiar with this blog, this tale has appeared here once before (several years ago to be precise). But we thought it worth another appearance, since a lot of work has already been done on the new novel. 

As for where this tale takes place in the timeline in relation to the first book, these events take place during Nathan's absence after he and his sister's 'ghost' sank into the grave at the end of TVB - Coming Home.

We hope you enjoy this tale... and let the Halloween festivities commence! 

It’s been two weeks since Nathan went to ground and there’s still no sign of when he may return… and I’m worried.  Not about whether or not he’s coming back, the Professor has assured both me and Marisa repeatedly that Nathan will come back to us, it’s just a question of when?  Ever since that night at the cemetery when everything went down, I’ve had a growing feeling of unease.  

I only really noticed it a couple of days after the battle, but looking back I’m certain it was already starting to gnaw at me the moment we all headed inside Nathan’s manor to tend to Marisa’s ankle.  But I didn’t dwell on it at the time because my dad arrived with Penny, who had had a bad shock earlier having seen her former pimp Tony in town.  She still doesn’t know the guy was already dead and acting as host to the ghoul slime that nearly killed me and Marisa, not that any of us plan to tell her anytime soon because that would mean possibly revealing Nathan’s secret.  

Luckily the Professor, sorry I mean Otto (he prefers Marisa and me to call him that), was on hand to smooth things over.  I always thought Nathan was a fast talker, but he pales in comparison to Otto.  He explained to Penny that Nathan had been called away on business, leaving him in charge of overseeing further restoration of the manor in his absence. Naturally, Marisa, Richard and I all backed him up, not that we really needed to.  Otto has a disarming way about him and can be so charming that Penny seemed quite happy to have him around.

Of course, there was still the question of what happened to Marisa’s ankle. I wound up taking the lead on that one.  Nathan taught me long ago that half-truths are far more convincing and easier to remember than flat out lies.  So I told her that Marisa slipped and fell while running up the driveway to the manor when she and I were racing each other to see Nathan.  When we found out he wasn’t here, nor were Richard or Otto at that point, we called Dr. Jack who does house calls.  Which is also true, he does make house calls quite a bit even in this day and age.  Then again, we’re not a huge town so that makes things easy for him to give that personal touch.  And he did a great job on Marisa’s ankle, she’s doing much better.  At school today I could barely detect any sign of a limp as we walked to and from our classes.  Some movements still give her a twinge, but nothing serious.

And right now, as I type these words, I’m feeling another twinge of anxiety.  Probably because of the recurring dream I’ve been having for the past week.  It always starts out with me was standing on one of the many hillsides that overlooks our little town of Pointer.  The sun is just rising, and I can see the light spreading across the valley slowing approaching the town I’ve called home all my life.  Soon the morning rays begin touching the trees, turning the yellow leaves that still cling to their branches, a brilliant gold, while at the same time making the grass seem more vibrant and welcoming.

The rooftops seem to spring to life and glisten with morning dew and everything just seems so beautiful and alive… then that uneasy feeling that’s been haunting me seems to awaken and grow with a terrifying vengeance.

I find my eyes are drawn to one of the dairy farms in the distance, where not too long ago a Tim Spratt was trampled to death when something spooked the family herd causing them to break out of the barn where they’d been kept.  Officially, the word is that a mountain lion or bear broke in and killed two of the animals, but I heard my father telling Otto just last night that he believes there is more to the story.  One of the deputies, who is part of Nathan’s “Extended Family” here in town was away at the time of the incident, but upon returning to work he learned the case was still quietly being investigated.

It turns out Kevin, that’s the deputy’s name, learned from his co-workers that tracks were found leading in and out of the barn.  It looked more like several animals had been on the scene, including a deer, a bear and one or two others, that would not normally be found entering a barn.  Furthermore, there had been a sickly smell that still seemed to linger in the area.  Last I heard, the family is tearing down the barn and have moved the animals to another enclosure.

Upon hearing this, my mind raced back to the cemetery where Marisa and I came under attack from creatures the Ghoul Slime had made from the bodies of dead buried there.  Each one had been a fusion of human and animal remains, which gave off a sickly unearthly smell.  I began to wonder then if Tim Spratt had been one of the Ghoul Slime’s earliest victims, which might account for what happened next in my dream…

TO BE CONTINUED...

E-Journal of Nathanlie Eoghan Steward October 11, 2018 “GHOSTS” - Part III

 

Leading father and daughter back to the lobby, I turn off all the lights to the theater along the way. Once we’re outside and I’m certain the place is locked up, we start heading to The Crypt. It’s raining lightly, but we’re all okay with that. After all, the building where my club is secreted is only a couple of blocks away.

Lisa sidles up alongside me, occasionally pressing up against me as we go. I shoot a look of appeal to her father, who simply keeps his gaze fixed straight ahead, apparently oblivious to his daughter’s advances. Although, I’m certain I detect a slight pull at one corner of his mouth that falls just short of being an actual smirk.

This of course, leaves me to wrestle with my warring feelings on my own once more.

In that same moment, as if conspiring against me, the rain begins to come down a bit harder. Automatically, I open one side of my billowy trench coat and extend it around Lisa’s head and shoulders to protect her, since I don’t have an umbrella handy. This of course prompts the young lady to wrap her arms around my waist and rest her head against my chest, so I can pull the jacket closed around the two of us.

She’s clearly pleased with this turn of events.

And for the millionth time, I silently admit to myself, it does feel good. No, not just good, but right. However, the times I’ve held Marisa, have also felt just as right.

But before I can start wondering about how holding the two of them at the same time might feel, I find we’ve already turned down the alley that leads to my club. Carefully, we make our way down the stairs and inside the warmth and quiet of The Crypt.

It’s closed tonight so we’re the only ones here. I don’t operate it during the weekdays, since a lot of my clientele are teenagers who don’t need another excuse to avoid their schoolwork.

As Brian locks the door behind us, I carefully extricate myself from Lisa’s embrace and lead the way to the area where the backrooms await. Once we’re there, I show them the hidden stairwell that leads down to the sub-basement. This, like the club itself, is a leftover from the days of prohibition. Once upon a time, all kinds of booze and distilleries where hidden down here, out of the sight of the law (or at least, the ones who were not here to get a drink or two themselves). and once housed all the illegal booze.

Nowadays, most of the floor is an entertainment/game room, with a small kitchen, a bathroom, and another room roughly 10’ by 20’. Unlike the rest of this underground area, the floor in that room is comprised purely of dirt, not wood or concrete. This is a leftover from before I took up residence in the family mansion. Prior to reclaiming my birthright, I spent most of my daylight hours down here resting deep in the ground, whenever I came to town.

Next to the door that leads into this room, stands a huge bookcase. It stretches from the ceiling to the floor and extends a good ten feet in length along the wall. I proceed to remove several books and stand back. Immediately, a tall section of the bookcase swings open revealing an imposing metal door behind it.

“Well, well, well,” Brian exclaims, his eyes wide with surprise, “You’ve moved it again. I swear, every time I think you’ve shown me everything, you produce yet another little wonder.”

“Impressed?” I ask casually.

“Very,” he replies giving me a slight bow. Then he starts studying the metal barrier. “Let me guess, another leftover from Prohibition?”

“From before that,” I explain. “Originally an old bank stood on this site years ago. Then it caught fire and was replaced by the building above us. But no one wanted to remove the vault, so it just sat down here, empty and deserted. That is until the mob took over and started using it to hide their distillery operations. After I found it, Otto helped me update the facilities and install climate control features. That was back in the 60’s.”

“And the films have been down here ever since,” Brian smiles.

“Actually, I didn’t move them in until the early 1980’s” I correct him. “Prior to that, I had another use for the room at that time.”

“So why did you need a climate-controlled room back in the 60’s?” Lisa asks, studying the books I had removed from the case, along with noting the spots where each one had been taken from.

Mentally, I make a note to rearrange the swinging bookshelf mechanism again, as I answer. “Well, originally, I was keeping certain plants and soil samples in here to study while I was working on my master’s degree in Botany. After I’d completed my studies, I got word that all the old films I’d gathered over the years were not holding up as well where I’d been storing them. So, I removed most of the tables I had kept my samples on, added lots of shelving, changed some of the lighting and…” at this I’ve unlocked the metal door, which slowly swings open to reveal a room the size of a rather large bank vault. Kind of like the ones you see on TV, only this one is the real thing.

There are rows upon rows of shelves inside, along with filing cabinets, film repair equipment, and a few other odds and ends.

“Care to step inside and peruse the collection?” I smile invitingly.

Lisa and her dad are so excited they both shoot past me and for a brief moment nearly get stuck in the doorway.

I quietly smile, thinking back to how many times Roscoe, Buster, Al, or the Marx Brothers would pull that stunt with hilarious results. It may be an old gag, but each of them could put a new spin or twist on it like no one else.

At that same time, the first inkling of an idea starts to hit me. Although to be honest, it’s one that has occurred to me several times, but I’m still unsure about it. The idea of running a slew of silent pictures on opening night would certainly appeal to historical movie-buffs. But what about a younger audience? Would they be interested? Hell, most of them have probably never heard of Buster Keaton, or Al St. John, or my old buddy Roscoe. At best, they might be familiar with Charlie Chaplin, but that’s about it.

Just then I hear Lisa’s voice coming from the vault saying, “Dad, would come and take a look at these? I recognize the artist, but not the names of the films.”

Immediately, I start to wonder which films she’s run across so quickly.

Following her voice, I enter the maze of shelving inside the vault, and find father and daughter studying a particular row of cannisters which I instantly recognize. Out of all the rows of films in here, how in the world did Lisa stumble across that section?

Before I can explore that thought further, Brian says excitedly, “Lisa, do you realize what these are? These are some of the films I was talking about earlier. The ones that were believed to have been lost for almost a century! There are collectors out there who would go give their right eye teeth find just one of these!”

“Seriously?” his daughter smiles, “Cool! Oh, and look who stars in most of them...”

Before she can finish, I call out, “Roscoe Conkling Arbuckle! More well known to the general public as ‘Fatty’, a name which he really hated, by the way.”

TO BE CONTINUED...