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Authors: E.M. MacCallum

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BOOK: The Haunting
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“That is up to her,” he said.

It was a ray of hope, small but still there. I bit my lips together and nodded, determined to hide my enthusiasm. What if I could take her home with me? What would our parents think? What would they say? The possibilities piled on top of each other. They had hidden her picture to try and forget. What would happen if I brought Neive home?

Damien’s dark gaze rolled down my baggy clown costume before returning to my face, his expression unreadable.

“You picked it,” I accused, blushing.

“I thought this was your dream,” Damien answered coyly.

“So you’re not here?” I asked.

“Never said that.”

I sidled along the wall, away from him. “Why are you here then?”

“There are objects you must find,” Damien answered, moving with me. Except his step was disturbingly polished compared to mine.

Pressing my back harder against the wall, I wasn’t able to gain much distance, but the movement had been instinctive. The last time he’d gotten too close, I almost did something stupid. I’d almost kissed him. Being close made me heady sometimes. I wanted clear thoughts when addressing the Demon’s Grave.

“What kind of objects do we have to find?”

“Rings. There are eight hidden throughout the house. One for each player.”

“Hidden? You mean that you hid them in this house?” I asked and pointed to the ground.

Damien mocked my motion and smirked. “They are in
a
house. Not this one.”

“What do these rings do?” My skin bristled as he took another step forward.

“They will be the only way to pass from this world to yours at the end of the Challenge. If you don’t have a ring, you don’t go home.” He stepped again, drawing closer and closer.

“Something else?” I asked, curling my fingers into a fist.

“Yes,” he said.

The fingernails biting into my palms helped regulate my breathing again. The last thing I wanted was for him to see how nervous I was, though I doubted my success.

He took the last step. “Your influence on this place will be different.” I felt his cool breath on my face. It took all of my effort not to look away, to keep my eyes level with his without flinching.

He could destroy me if he wanted to.
But he wouldn’t do that to a future Neophyte
, I thought.

“The power?” I asked. “How?”

“You will see.”

I frowned, seeing I was getting nowhere. He was going to make me find out the hard way. “Why did you let Neive protect me in the last Challenges?” I asked.

He
must
have known.

Seeing the sparks dancing in his dark eyes unnerved me. He slowly reached up a hand and touched my blonde hair, smoothing it away from my face. The movement was gentle and unlike everything I’d expected. I’d forgotten my resolve to appear unafraid and flinched.

“No more questions,” he said firmly, his lips so close to mine I thought I could feel a warmth. I didn’t move to stop him, but I held very still, inviting while dreading it at the same time.

Don’t think
, I commanded.
It’s just a dream. None of this is real. Maybe I’d wake up in my room

or a padded one
.

He stopped in that last inch. Perhaps it was my sudden stillness, or when I started to hold my breath, or maybe it was never his intention to kiss me and I was delusional. He dropped his hand slowly from my hair, fingertips trailing gooseflesh against the side of my face. “Ah, one last thing…”

“What?” I asked, letting out my breath, in a slight daze.

Nothing in this world could have prepared me for the slap.

It was so swift that I hardly saw his hand move in the dim light. The cracking sound rang in my ears. I stumbled to the side, and my knees almost tangled against Damien’s legs. Clawing the wall for support, I reached up to touch the throbbing spot on my cheek. I was speechless but not helpless.

Spinning, I swatted at him.

He probably could have stopped me, but he let me hit him. I’d never slapped anyone before, and now I knew why. My palm stung with a hundred needles. I leaned back against the wall, curling my hand into a fist while the other touched the heated skin on my own face. I stared at him, appalled.

“What the
fuck
was that for?!”

“I needed to send you back with proof,” he said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. I was pleased to see him suck in the cheek I’d hit, like maybe it’d hurt him a little.

“Proof of what?” I snapped.

He actually appeared annoyed. “That this isn’t really a dream, Nora. I can hear your little head in this state.” After a brief pause, he added in an apathetic tone, all the warmth drying up, “If you’d rather, I can send you back bleeding.”

CHAPTER TWO

I snapped my hands up to defend myself, but he was gone and so was the circular brick room.

Propped upright on the landing, I found myself looking up the stone stairs to a wrought iron gate. Beyond that was a starry sky, twinkling, calm, and inviting.

Below the stairs where I sat were two concrete coffins. Torches whispered within the tomb, flinging erratic light in a wind I couldn’t feel.

Silence stretched, below and above, leaving no indication of being watched —yet.

I touched my cheek; the heat had faded, though it was still tender from the blow.
That bastard
, I thought angrily.
He could hear my thoughts and

crap! He could hear my thoughts!

I was fully awake now and bundled in the itchy wool blanket. If I heard my thoughts, I might be mad too. This wasn’t good. Thus far, I’d been protected, but what about now? He hadn’t said anything about becoming a Neophyte in the dream.

Rubbing my face with one hand, I pulled down the blanket to make sure I wasn’t still in the clown costume. The chilly air invaded and goosebumps trailed like ants up and down my arms.

I looked down at my dirt-stained pajamas. The thin T-shirt and penguin-decorated shorts wouldn’t provide much protection.

Wrapping the blanket back around me, I let the warmth invade again. Comfortable, I eased to my swollen feet. The sleep, though desperately needed, was uncomfortable. Every muscle ached as if it had been the day after a long work out.

My stomach gurgled as I leaned against the wall, still covered but at least standing.

I wondered if there was food nearby. And if there was, would I eat it? The image of Joel’s severed thumb falling to the dusty ground in a roll forced me to physically shake the memory away.

“Time to focus, Nora.” I looked up at the stars above.

Gripping the blanket around my shoulders, I made my way up the stone steps, my socked feet making no sound.

Stopping in the doorway, I faced a cemetery.

A gothic iron fence surrounded the crypt. The rusted gate propped open crookedly, the top hinge having come apart, leaving the bottom to drag.

I took a deep breath. It smelled like damp, freshly cut grass, making me homesick. I thought of my parents, of my little sisters…of Aunt Nell or should I say,
Mom
.

“Focus,” I reminded myself with a grimace.

Neive had said to make it to the house. Twisting in a circle, I couldn’t see a house in any direction. It was tombstones for as far as I could see, rows upon rows of them. If it wasn’t graves, it was tombs on either side of me or fat trees that looked like they’d been there forever.

Hugging the blanket tighter, I felt anxiety building. Where were my friends? What if I didn’t make it to the house?

Staring at the line of neighboring sepulchers, I knew that I’d prefer to walk away from them. The narrow buildings were too close together and shadowed. Maybe I could walk through the cemetery. There were trees to hide behind if I needed.

Feeling a twinge of relief at the idea, I started to walk along the edge of the crypts. I kept a few rows of tombstones between the buildings and me.

The air was electric. Insects didn’t hum, owls didn’t hoot, and no traffic sounded in the distance.

The further I ventured, the thicker the trees and the more unkept it appeared. Gravestones looked more like stone slabs, chipped and brushed clear of names and dates. The lawn wasn’t manicured past a certain point, though I couldn’t recall where.

Odd trees crowded together. One had knocked a tombstone over with an overzealous root that arched out of the ground.

Walking around the trees and careful not to trip, I saw they’d grown thicker than the graves.

My steps slowed as I realized I might have made a mistake.

I stared at a forest instead of an urban area. Weren’t there usually houses around cemeteries? I had seen the obscure little cemeteries along the highway before, but there’d only been a few dozen headstones. They weren’t as big as this one.

This isn’t the land of logic, though
, I concluded and leaned against the nearest white-barked birch. Chewing on my lower lip, I tugged at the blankets around me, trying to make sense of my situation.

I was alone. I didn’t have any of my friends this time. They’d guided me up to this point, mostly. I had Aidan all through the first Challenge, and I had Phoebe throughout most of the second.

Then there was the subject of Neive. I felt my insides twist. She was alive. I wasn’t sure why I felt guilty that I hadn’t suspected that she could be. She’d been watching this whole time. I couldn’t just let her stay here, could I?

Maybe Damien was right; I didn’t know this girl anymore. Yes, she was my twin, but I didn’t
know
her. She could be on Damien’s side for all I knew. Some sort of trick. Maybe she wasn’t Neive at all but part of Damien’s game.

Feeling a burning streak of resentment, I pushed away from the tree.

He had been using this memory against me since the beginning. Why stop now?

It was an idea anyway. Could she have survived all this time? And if so, where? Here? Damien said she could wander, so why didn’t she come home? She’d been here since the age of five; she couldn’t have fended for herself. Damien or
someone
had to have helped her. Maybe that was why he didn’t want to let her go with us. Maybe, just maybe, Damien felt love.

Maybe it was paternal. He would have had to raise her, watch her grow up.

But Damien wasn’t a parent; he was a demon. Part, I reminded myself. He was part human too. That still didn’t explain why Neive never came home. Did she love him too? Or felt she owed him something?

I touched my cooled cheek. He tried to kiss me. Had he tried with Neive too?

Frowning, I clutched the blanket tighter. The last thing I needed to do was think about him.

Trudging through the ankle-tall grass, I hopped over tombstones. I had to refrain from apologizing to the imaginary corpses I stepped over.

Though I’d take this over a frozen landscape and an abominable snowman.

Swinging around a thick oak tree, I saw a belly-crawling mist rolling and curling over itself to get closer. My stomach flipped, as it was moving faster than normal mist.

Glancing over my shoulder, I stopped moving and listened to the pregnant silence. Keeping my eyes wide, I watched the shimmering shadows and imagined movements more than actually seeing any. The cover from the trees had darkened the area. This was a mistake. At least before I had full stars and a slivered moon.

I struggled to control my short, shaky breaths, straining to see any sign of danger.

A rumble at my feet was barely enough warning. Dirt exploded beneath me, blinding and stinging my eyes. Screaming, I flailed my arms, and the world tilted.

The blanket cushioned my fall, leaving me less winded than I would have been otherwise. Eyes watering through the grass and dirt, I scrambled to my feet, leaving the blanket behind.

A high-pitched scream, like that of an eagle, brought my attention to what burst free.

It was blurry through the tears at first. The dark grey glob floated over the open grave. It had basic human shapes with a few distinct deformities.

Wiping my eyes with the back of my arm, I got rid of most of the dirt.

The thing had long arms, and bulbous knuckles that were nearly touching the ground. The legs were stout but curled up into folds of grey skin.

Suddenly, I wished for the dirt back in my eyes.

Layers of loose skin folded from the dirty skull and belly in flaps. Pointed bat-like ears perched high on either side of its rounded head. Its nose was wide and flat, nostrils flaring holes just above a lipless mouth. Abnormally large eyeballs lined with vivid red veins glowed in the dim light. I realized in a heart-stopping moment that they were focused on me.

I swallowed the string of curses that first came to mind as I backed away several more steps.

The thing floated closer. Its blank expression was deceiving. It couldn’t be thinking of anything pleasant. The sinister-looking creature advanced, pushing me back.

I didn’t run. I wasn’t sure I could outrun this floating catastrophe of nature.

My head spun with ideas. I needed to get away from it somehow.

Was it herding me? It hadn’t attacked yet.

Shifting to the right, the creature paused, stopping in mid-air. Those disturbing eyes never wavered as I side-stepped, giving it a wide berth. As I inched past its shoulder, the thing shrieked. The piercing sound made me jump. The thing landed on the ground and ran at me on fat, tiny legs. It could have been comical on any other day.

Yelling in surprise, I stepped back the three steps, hands up to fend it off.

The thing stopped and curled up its little legs, hovering off the ground again.

“What I want is past you, isn’t it?” I said. “You’re trying to keep me from going there.”

The creature stared back at me, unmoving.

Tugging at my shirt, I glanced over my shoulder. Should I just venture back for another way around? I doubted I’d find many easier roads.

A hand grabbed my shoulder. Screaming, I launched myself forward, batting at the clinging fingers.

The hand let me go. It was just the creature, too far away to have touched me, even with those long arms.

Making up my mind, I charged to the right of the floating, loose-skinned creature. It moved to grab at me, shrieking its teeth-grinding warning as I sailed past. I didn’t even feel the wind of its swing.

At least I could avoid one more injury.

My fingertip still throbbed from the nail being cracked down the middle. The three distinct deep scratches down my back still spasmed with each twist and pivot around the gravestones.

Behind me, dozens of the same high-pitched shrieks resounded between oak trees.

Peeking over my shoulder, knowing I shouldn’t, I saw at least five new graves explode in violent sprays of dirt. Five pairs of red eyes glowed through the debris, and all were aimed at me.

Don’t look for them
, I thought, fear clawing and pushing me forward. I wove past the headstones and thick tree trunks. Racing as fast as my legs would carry me, I knew my head start was failing.

Their shrieks reverberated through the air, sinisterly close.

I didn’t dare look back again. My head was swimming with my heartbeat, threatening to drown the shrieks. If only it had.

I saw an iron fence ahead, and beyond that was the outline of a house. My legs burned with adrenaline and my lungs started to ache, but I couldn’t stop. Leaping over a three-foot tombstone, I saw the shadows of my pursuers catching up to my own. I tried to mentally stretch myself toward the solid black Victorian house ahead.

Panicking, I glanced up and down the six-foot-tall fence line for any sign of a gate or a hole. The warmth in my stomach stirred, but I remembered how useful it had been when I wanted to find Cooper and veered left, toward a row of crypts. I could hide in one, hope they lose me and make another attempt later.

“Nora!”

Neive stood near a hole in the fence, one that hadn’t been there before. Twisting, skidding on the grass, I ran straight through the gap. The second I darted through I heard her scream. Skidding to a stop, I almost lost my footing in the turn.

She was in the gap, standing partly in and out of the cemetery.

Two grey-skinned creatures had Neive’s arm, though they didn’t cross through the hole. Instead, they were trying to pull her in.

Seeing her struggle to pull away, I realized that if Neive was scared, I should be too.

Grabbing the flailing arm on the safe side of the fence, I tugged, using my weight to draw her with me.

But the creatures pulled back, winning the tug-of-war when Neive’s foot shifted over to their side.

Neive groped for a better grip of me and wrenched me closer to her—to them. I thought of Cooper trying to drown us both.

With one hand around her wrist, I grabbed her cloak with the other. Balling the cloak up in my fist, I shoved one foot into the fence for leverage.

The shrill banshee cry was so piercing and startling, I almost let her go.

I thought of Cooper. I’d let him go. I pushed him away, and he never came back.

Pulling with all my strength, I leaned back.

The creatures pulled me closer to them through Neive. I felt the pavement scraping against my sock, burning my heel, while the fence felt like it would split my other foot in two.

Neive cried out when one good tug from them pulled her into the cemetery, except for the arm and cloth that I held.

Still they didn’t reach through the bars to grab me, like I’d thought.

“Nora,” Neive pleaded, her brown eyes wide. “I’ll come back later.”

With that, she let go. In the same fluid motion, she knocked my hand away from her cloak, knuckles cracking into my injured finger. As I stumbled back in surprise, my shoulders ran into something soft behind me. I heard her scream as the creatures pulled her into their circle, hiding her body from view.

“Wait, no! It’s me you want!” I called grabbing at the hanging object behind me to catch my balance.

My voice disappeared in the rough wail of pain from within the cemetery. It wasn’t just fear anymore.

BOOK: The Haunting
3.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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