Authors: Honey A. Hutson
The morning seemed to drag as they hiked out to the lake. She was relieved when she finally saw the water, afraid she might still be caught in the loop she was in yesterday. The crows seemed to disappear as they hiked along to the cove and on toward the house.
Feelings stirred in Katherine. Nostalgic ones. Miranda was still some part of her and this was still home. What had been filled in as the memories of the other lives passed through her mind. The reflections of the stained glass windows dancing on the water throughout time, the stone lions with the torches in their mouths lit, guarding the entryway. The house in all it’s grandeur over the years, carefully maintained, carefully tended. Until the last faithful lover had lured her away, tricked Greystone with dreams of re-establishing power, to save them both.
The silence between them remained as they approached. Suddenly the house became visible through the trees, then they were standing in the few feet between it and the forest. It towered above them, empty windows staring out like a dozen eyes. Darkness resided behind those blank stares. If the eyes were windows to the soul then the soul of this place was nearly empty, all but extinct. Still it held some sway, offered her some strength.
Sadness crept into Katherine. It felt as though she were returning to find that home had been nearly destroyed. The emptiness of the house reflected her own life until she’d met Jim. Even that was so new as to be uncertain and therefore unreliable. This place shared things in common with her, things that spanned centuries. It was not the house that was depraved, or even the lake, but the parasites that fed off of them.
“
Time to clean house,” she whispered and for the first time the sprouts of hope began to grow.
The stone lions were covered with vines that laced up the hand rails and along the porch railing. Carefully she walked up the steps, testing them for stability, finding that they gave, but held her. The porch was frayed along the edges where the weather reached it, but was solid otherwise.
The door stood, solid and unyielding before her. She understood now that the house, the lake, was its own entity and she must prove to it that she was its master. Putting her pack down she unzipped the outer pocket and withdrew the key. It fit perfectly into the keyhole.
The stain where she’d hit her head was still there on the faded graying wood. The knob turned with a squeal of years untouched, but it turned. The hinges screamed much louder, resisting as she pushed on the door. Dust flooded out of the opening in a cloud, causing her to pause, squinting her eyes. The musty smell of time and decay greeted her, welcoming her to a home that had waited decades for her arrival.
Katherine stepped through the opening, a half dozen pasts flowing through her mind like horses on a merry-go-round. It spun, showing her how little it had changed from one life to another. Small adjustments that corresponded to the era in which the life had been lived. Hardwood floors gleamed in one, handmade furniture lining the entryway, oriental runners in another – floral patterns of the time. Vases of varying colors and patterns with flowers of the season, candle holders, candelabras, more modern designs. Eventually primitive electric lights whose outlets now stood empty, lines running from one to another secured to the ceiling.
Jim stood beside her, finally put one hand on her shoulder, bringing her back to the present. The grand staircase ascended before them, cobwebs running through the spindles of the rail as it climbed toward the second floor. The entryway furniture still stood in its place, a hall tree reflected back her image through a dusty veil.
Stepping forward Katherine looked to the left, where the sitting room sat as it had once been, an old fashioned formal couch under the window facing a large fireplace on the inner wall. A painting hung over the mantel. She wandered through the room, stared at the small paintings that hung here and there, was amazed that small sculptures and figurines still graced the shelves.
“
It’s eerie,” Jim said absently, reaching out to clear a cobweb from the face of a Greek goddess on a stand by the window.
“
It’s just as I left it,” she mumbled, running one hand over the woodwork that ran along the lower half of the wall.
As she came to the mantel she gazed up at the portrait of Charles, standing debonair, his face strong and stern as he posed. On the mantel sat black and white pictures. In the middle was the one she’d seen of her father and his sister, on either side of it their parents, her grandparents. The line fanned out from there, turning at some point from photos to small painted portraits of the entire family line.
Pride stirred in her. These were her ancestors. All of them were trapped here and the time had come to set them free. She turned and wandered into the dining room, through the kitchen and into a small eat-in area beyond. This led back to the hallway where the entryway was. Across the hall, behind the stairs was a storage area that opened up to a music room where a piano, base, violin and other instruments still resided. The strings were long since gone. A large birds nest, probably a crow’s, was nestled in the hole on the base. She reflected on how empty and deserted it looked as she passed. Beyond that was a huge ballroom.
This opened out onto a veranda which had at some time been glassed in. Much of the glass panels were now broken. Tree limbs littered the stone floors, several of the weathered chairs had been crushed or just fallen apart from exposure.
“
Winter storms can be pretty bad here,” Jim said, noting her pained expression, not entirely understanding why the condition of the place seemed to disturb her.
“
Yea, I know,” she said absently, turning and wandering through the ballroom and to the stairs. She started to ascend and Jim followed at a respectable distance.
On the second floor were bedrooms, each still laid out with their furniture intact, bedding still in place. Each was made, the coverlet devotedly tucked in around the pillows as if their occupant might have just left, except that the cobwebs and dust were everywhere. Perfume bottles, powder containers, shaving kits all laid in careful order on the dressers, webs hanging between them and the mirrors.
“
It’s like everyone just walked away and never came back,” Jim said, finally unable to take the silence any longer.
“
They did, actually. Each time one of them died it was presumed they would return, so their room was left as it was, waiting for them. Only something happened, the rate of children being born began to change. Their numbers started depleting, until there was only two left.” The night before came to mind.
He cleared his throat, resisted the urge to tell her. “The two that died in town. But this place hasn’t been touched. They didn’t take nothin’ with them.”
“
They planned on coming back. Or at least she did. He loved her so much he wanted to set her free. She was the family member, so he was married in. Maybe he didn’t like being permanently added. He’d have been trapped, too. The only way to set a soul free from the family was for that person to burn alive, right? He couldn’t have done that here, so he convinced her the only way to rebuild the family was to move into town, get people to trust them. Like them.”
“
Why not here?” Jim asked.
“
Because it’s not just the family here. The lake, the house, this place – it’s an entity of its own. It won’t let itself be destroyed. This whole thing with the family gave it life, but its loyalty is only to those who would protect it. It’s been empty all this time, it’s loyalties to the family that abandoned it are weakened. It’s mine now, I’m its hope. As long as I protect it…” she realized she was rambling.
“
But he protected it all this time,” Jim said, becoming uneasy suddenly in the house. Listening carefully as her loyalties to this place revealed themselves.
“
Yea, but I have something to offer he doesn’t,” she returned.
“
What’s that?” he asked cautiously.
“
Life. A chance to return to its former glory. Its home and I have the means and the desire to restore it, if I can just get rid of the rats that plague us both.” She was almost whispering now as she leaned in against the wall, spoke as if she were speaking to the house itself.
Jim wasn’t sure if she was playing along or if she meant it. What he did know was that the entity that the house was part of would know and it would react accordingly.
‡
After exploring the rest of the floor they moved on to the third level. There were various rooms for sewing and other activities. They stood in the hallway, staring down at the end they hadn’t seen. Katherine seemed to be dreading that part, hung back as if debating not going any further.
“
What’s wrong?” Jim finally asked.
“
My room’s down there. And the nursery.” Pacing for a moment she finally took a deep breath and forged on.
The nursery was neatly kept, toys in their place, rocking horse sitting by the window where a child could look out at the lake. She lingered there, wondered again what had become of the children. Likely they’d grown to productive members of the family, maybe even stronger than most, with their mother’s blood added to Greystone’s.
Finally she re-emerged in the hallway. From the side came a massive blow that threw her to floor, head spinning. Nigel stumbled forward, reaching for her throat as he fell on top of her, bloodied legs giving way. In the momentary struggle she saw the light that filled his eyes, turning them the sickly yellow-green that reflected in the eyes of the wolves.
Jim rushed from the nursery, pulled Nigel off Katherine, slinging him down the hallway. He landed on his feet, sneered at Jim as he stumbled forward again. The two men faced off. Katherine saw it for the distraction it was and turned toward the final room.
Stepping into the sunlight she went to the window and stared out at the veranda, the last of its unbroken panels gleamed in the light of late evening.
“
Bring back memories?” the wispy voice she’d expected asked from across the room.
The door shut gently as Greystone stepped from behind it. He flicked the lock. Katherine summoned all of her courage and smiled. Concentrating she let Miranda come, kept her just close enough to see, just close enough to feel, just out of control.
The green eyes muddied as Greystone came near, pulled her close, smelled her hair, ran his hands down her back. Returning the caress she closed her eyes, felt the passion she remembered in Miranda, let it flow from her so he would feel it. He picked her up in his arms, laid her on the bed, his weight pressing her into the ages old bedding. His claws ripped the buttons from her shirt, sent them flying around the room.
“
I’ve waited so long. For a little while there I thought maybe she’d gotten the better of you after all,” he breathed as he nibbled, careful not to draw blood.
Pulling his face to hers she kissed him passionately, made it a point not to speak. Miranda stirred, creating a storm she could barely contain. She tried to strike out, to warn him he was in danger. The lack of control was making her furious, the rage made her stronger. Katherine’s control began to slip, coming out as Miranda’s passion.
Greystone grasped her wrists as she tried to push him back. Staring into her eyes he laughed.
“
She’s giving you a run for it isn’t she? Concentrate, keep her down,” he cooed.
Katherine did as he said, driving Miranda back just enough to control her. Breathing heavy she tried to think of a way to get him back where she’d started out.
“
What’s wrong?” he asked, raising up, looking into her face.
“
Dust,” she breathed. “Let’s get off this bed. It’s hard to breath.”
Sliding from the bed, he took her with him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Quickly he pinned her to the wall, continued his nuzzling. Katherine dropped her legs to the floor, pushed back on him, kissing his chest passionately, shoving him toward the other corner, the one that looked out over the veranda. As she gave one last powerful shove reinforced by a burst of power he grabbed her wrist to pull her near. They both went crashing through the window, plummeting toward the ground below.
‡
Jim heard the door click shut behind him, but was otherwise occupied with Nigel’s advance. The eerie eyes burned with hatred as Nigel ran at him, throwing them both to the floor where they struggled. Finally able to get to the gun Jim shoved him back long enough to get off a shot.
The sound resounded through the house, along with the sound of shattering glass and a sharp scream from the room behind him. Nigel stumbled backward, held his left side and stumbled into one of the rooms down the hall.
For a moment he was torn. If he let Nigel go he would just show up to wreak more havoc at the worst time. The power surge that he’d seen emanate from Katherine ran through his mind. Knowing she could take care of herself and that ultimately this was her battle he chose to pursue Nigel.
The room was empty, but a connecting door stood open with bloody fingerprints bent around its edge. Jim followed the blood trail as it led through the house, down the stairs and into the kitchen. A door on the far end stood open, leading to a cellar.