“I come at your command,” spoke a soft but hollow voice.
What happened next was so unexpected, so incongruous, that even facing ghosts and demons, I couldn’t believe my eyes. A single point of light appeared over her left shoulder and gently dropped to where her heart would be. A second and a third quickly followed. Then more and more besides until a thousand fireflies encircled her and shot like lightening. With each spark her form began to take shape and become solid. The beauty of her reincarnation is beyond my words to describe. It felt like love and joy made tangible.
It was then I noticed the scowl of hatred on Leota’s face.
“M’Lady… I never knew I had such power.”
“You!?” Her laugh was shot through with disdain and incredulity, “You are nothing more than a vessel to speak the words. It was I who caused this and once I possess that body, then…oh yes, then you will see what power really is.”
The last hints of light faded into the gloom and Emily Gracey stood at my feet[1]. She was young and sweet, clear as a harvest moon and beautiful like new snow. Yet her eyes were cold and dead.
“Leota, I don’t understand…”, I said.
“No, I don’t suppose you would”, she replied almost kindly, “Emily’s spirit isn’t here. It is confined to the room in which she died. This body is now ready to receive my soul.”
Leota had become almost wistful, as if in awe of her own powers.
“Now is the time. Read the spell to bind me to this body.”
I eased the pages back to the spot I had previously marked. “I must do this quick, before she realizes my intentions”, I thought. I opened my mouth but no words came out, my tongue cleaving to the pallet. Fear that she had read my thoughts rose like a tide.
“Michael, be sure you say it right. I will not tolerate mistakes.”
A slow nod and my voice returned. Concentrating on my purpose and desire, I began slowly and quickened through the words:
By Candle’s flame, Harpsichord,
Lamp, Tambourine and Bell
A Servant’s Spirit, Ghost of Lord,
Within thy consciousness they dwell.
Bend your mind upon them now and increase your will,
Doors wait to open, when thousand fold you’re filled.
Leota’s globe flew into the air and shone with a green-gold light from within. Her lips could be seen intoning her rite of power. Suddenly the light turned black, glowing and engulfing all other light. This living darkness filled the room and spread until I could sense it covered the house, cemetery and grounds. Then like a shot it contracted to the globe and into Leota’s mouth.
“What HAVEYOUDONE!!!???” she howled with all the passion, hatred and anger of Hell itself. I could feel waves of energy spilling from her and beating upon my chest.
“You fool! You shall pay for your imcomp…!” she froze mid-word and the silence was more terrifying than her rage. “Your little trick will not hold me for long Michael. You are right, some of these weak and pathetic souls may escape but I shall draw many more to myself. And Michael, you have now given me the strength to open the portal once I gain the 1000th soul. I shall begin…with yours.”
My body convulsed and shook like the worst of seizures. Spirit and flesh were separating as if every cell were split, torn in a most savage manner. The pain was everywhere and nowhere. It grew and grew until I desired death just so it would end. Even as I began to yield a deep and familiar voice cut through the fog of torture.
“Made One, lived One, be One until the appointed time.”
My spirit crashed back with a pain only just less than before. But oh, how exquisite the joy of being whole once again.
“Who dares to enter here and defy me?!” screamed Leota with all her menace. But I also heard doubt for this new-comer had indeed countered her devilment.
“Do you not recognize me Ota? Did my love mean so little?” Le Un’s question seemed to put Leota into shock.
“Sa Guu? How can you…?” croaked the first Ota.
“You are not the only one who knows how to continue, to survive.”
La Un was Sa Guu? He who was murdered at the dawn of time, so long ago. Dumbfounded I stood gaping at the impossible confrontation before me.
‘Ota, you owe me a life. I will take one of my choosing, in my own time.”
“You will take nothing,“ she cried, “You are old and weak Sa Guu. Your time was in the past.”
The past? Yet he lives. The past lives. Then I remembered what he’d said at our parting on the river, “When death is near and the past lives, make your way quickly.”
As if cued by my thoughts, La Un stepped closer to the table, drawing all of Leota’s attention. I took one hesitant step away from the book, then another. Slowly I crept around the table and out of Leota’s sight. She was facing La Un and the door through which I had entered. My only hope was a great dark opening in the far wall. The moment for action came as LaUn loudly said, “Ota, I will now break your hold on these spirits.”
She laughed, shrill as the king of Angmar and I turned and fled. Panic set in as the door began to collapse. Leaping through I found myself in total darkness. I quickly clambered to my feet and ran with hands outstretched trying to find some guide and avoid painful walls. Twisting and turning, I soon lost my way completely. This was the worst, lost and alone in this horror made real; not knowing what demon or ghoul would grab me in the strangling dark.
Had I finally gone crazy or was there music up ahead. No, there was definitely an organ playing. I glanced around a corner to find a high walk above the Grand Ballroom. I rushed across and only caught vignettes of the scene below. There was a birthday party with couples dancing, a real swinging wake judging by the ghosts on the chandelier and more entering every moment. I heard the gunshots of two duelists and last saw the organist himself, endlessly trying to conclude his masterpiece.
Once again I plunged into darkness and was soon climbing a narrow staircase. 20, 30 steps or more I rose until there was no other possible destination… the high attic. I knew that here had been perpetrated two of the Mansion’s worst murders, Donovan Scott and Emily Gracey.
I reached the top and considered my options. The only place to go from here was down. The simple question was, “go through the attic or back down those stairs?” I was definitely more afraid of what was behind than what might be ahead.
“Okay, forward it is then,” I whispered.
Thu-thump. Thu-Thump.
Someone or something was here. A sense of danger dropped on my soul like a heavy coat. I could think of nothing but to crouch down and hide.
Thu-thump. Thu-Thump.
She spoke in a breathless whisper, “Hurry, many here will do her will and they shall be upon you soon.”
The child in my soul screamed in terror and his anguish flew from my lips with all an adult’s power. I rushed past the nightmare toward the only visible egress, a port window in the north wall. It came open on the third pull and I began to climb through. Twisting every which way to squeeze out the small hole, I was just free when a hand caught my ankle and flipped me over. For one brief moment I glimpsed a dark-liveried servant[6] cursing himself for allowing the Mistress’ prey to escape. Then I slid headfirst and on my back down the sloping roof. I tumbled off the eaves and into the loving arms of an old oak tree. Crashing from one branch to the next I fell, and finally hit the ground with a thunderous whoomp. A raven’s caw echoed in my ears as all sense of the world fled and I slept.
It was still dark when I was awakened by a warm moist tongue on my cheek. I was being licked by the skinniest dog you could imagine. His rough-hewn leather collar named him Bony.
“Hey boy…what’re you doing in a place like this? You lost?” I rubbed his thin face and was rewarded by a frantic thumping of the tail.
“Ain’t lost. Bony’s mah dahg an he stays wit me,” came a slow high whisky drawl, “dem what… lives heh…tends to keep thar distance when he’s around. Still, we both gets a might sceered sometimes when they gets all riled-up. What-cha doing heh? I don seem to amember seeing you afore.”
Stepping out of the mists was a thin white-haired man bundled against the chill river breeze. His calm demeanor though could not hide that he was terrified. His knees knocked and his face was a pale mask of fear. He looked for all the world like he had seen a…well a ghost.
Obviously he knew about the house and its residents. Could I trust him? Did I have a choice? In desperation I blurted, “My name is Michael. I came to destroy Leota but I couldn’t do it, she was too strong. Please, I need your help to escape.”
This man’s river of thought ran slow but deep and I could see him mulling the options. It took three eternal seconds for him to decide.
“Thar’s on’y two ways to the river from heah. Ya kin go through the swamp but the gators and quicksand will git ya good. Or ya kin try the crypt o’er yonder. Thar’s a secret tunnel what goes through the back of it and raht up to the river landing. More’n my soul’s worth to go thar, but you do what ya gotta.”
“Thanks,” I cried and pumped his hand vigorously. “You’ve saved my life.”
“Well, mah ole pappy used to tell me, ‘Dick, you always do raht by folks and deh Devil’ll never have yore soul.’ I sure hope he was raht.”
Without another word I lit up the rise toward a knot of gnarled oaks[7] and the family crypts beyond.
The ground was spongy underfoot as I passed into the quarter-acre wood[8]. A century of fallen leaves had collected and decomposed to form a rich and earthy loam. Hairs on my neck and arms began to rise. Something here wasn’t right. Faint as a butterfly’s whisper, I could hear the clang of sword on shield. Men’s voices were yelling, cursing and dying. Louder it grew and louder still until the Scottish brough was clear and a full battle rang through the night. This clamor was sure to betray me. A quick glance at the house confirmed my fears. Three large men in dark frock coats had just thrown the caretaker to the ground and aimed a hard but wild kick at his dog. One of them got a kiss from Bony for that.
Growing in intensity, the ancient battle echoed off the mansion and boomed over the river. Leota’s henchmen looked right at me from away and began racing toward the small grove. I turned to flee only to find the way impassible. Branches had interwoven themselves into a thick wall. I leaned into the hedge and felt the slightest give when suddenly the ground exploded as pale and slimy roots arched up to twist and squirm around my legs. I lunged and pounded on the branches which only gave way as I sheered them from their trunks. Twigs were clawing at my eyes and I haltingly moved forward. All around I could feel the trees grinding with anger and pain with each snapped bough. I burst out of the thicket and their frenzy died just as quickly as it had begun.
Deep gasps wracked my body and a painful stitch tugged at my side. Had to move, had to go.
“Okay…get your bearings…where are you?”
Off to the left rose a wide berm topped by cypress trees. Before me a spacious graveyard and a hundred yards away…the crypt.
There was no time to lose as the first of Leota’s men skidded around the forest’s edge. I set off at a sprint but only took a dozen steps before I was rooted to the ground by the most plaintive, heart-chilling sound imaginable. Somewhere off toward the river a hound was baying at the full and sickly-yellow moon. Pain and terror filled that cry, bringing forth hot stinging tears from my face. With effort I wrenched first one foot forward and then the other. This spell gave way slowly and the goons were almost upon me when all Hell seemed to break loose.
Tombstones began to quake[9] as if the Earth itself were about to split. The very air began to glow a pearly blue and a nearby crypt door creaked open loudly. My pursuers turned and fled in a panic. Within moments I could discern shapes materialize all around and they, as if on the cue of some spectral chorister, began to vocalize, “…spooks come out for a swinging wake…”
[1] Emily Gracey by “Nenya” on Flickr.com
[2] Attic Photo by Alison Grosso, “cotterpin” on Flickr.com
[3] Original Bride image by “Pisco” on Flickr.com
[4] The original Bride had a glowing red heart which beat visibly.
[5] Hatbox Ghost image by Dan Cichalski of DCProductions.com
[6] Male cast members wear a dark grey frock coat and suit.
[7] “Haunted Tree” by Matt Pagel, “Hysterical Bertha” on Flickr.com
[8] Winnie the Pooh lived in the Hundred Acre Wood
[9] Lyrics to Grim Grinning Ghosts by F. Xavier Atencio. Michael’s trip through the graveyard is laced with many references to this song.
[10] Music to grim Grinning Ghosts by Buddy Baker.
[11] Broken Bust by Robert Miller, “Frogmiller” on Flickr.com
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