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Authors: Rodman Philbrick

The Haunting (10 page)

BOOK: The Haunting
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But I hesitated. I had to get Sally.

But how? I couldn't lead this thing to my little sister. She was safe in her room—for now at least.

Mom and Dad, then. I had to get to them, wake them up. But my heart sank. I knew they wouldn't be able to see the skeleton that had come to get me, or to scare me away so it could get Sally. They didn't see any of the things that happened in this house. They would just send me back to bed and it would come for me again.

No, I had to fight it myself. Maybe there was something downstairs I could use as a weapon.

But I had hesitated too long.

I heard a low cackle, felt its rotten breath on the back of my neck. It was catching up. It reached for me.

I yelled and flung myself toward the stairs. I reached to catch hold of the banister but missed.

My hands grabbed nothing but air. Then my back hit the top of the stairs. I was rolling.

My head slammed the edge of a stair and everything went black.

25

The bang on the head stunned me for only a second—long enough for me to tumble halfway down the stairs. A jolt of pain woke me up as I bounced from one stair to the next and landed at the bottom.

I sat up and rubbed my head. Ouch! A nasty lump was forming.

All around me was darkness and quiet. The thing in the black shroud had not followed me down the stairs. No sound came from upstairs. Was the gruesome thing gone?

I tried squinting up the stairway, but I couldn't see a thing. It was so dark. Cautiously I looked around, peering into the shadowed dimness of the living room and the dining room. Nothing moved. Could the nightmare be over?

Gritting my teeth, I started back up the stairs. My plan was to check in on Sally, stay and guard her for the rest of the night.

I got up just one step.

Without warning something heavy flew over my head and crashed into the wall. As if that was a signal, the house erupted like a volcano, objects flying everywhere.

I covered my head with my arms and crouched low. I heard the lamp slide off the hall table and fly up. A second later the table followed, smashing the lamp in midair. A chair hurtled in from the dining table and crashed against the banister just above my head.

Vases and figurines flew off the shelf upstairs and collided with candlesticks and lamps from downstairs.

I peeked out from under my arms and saw a toy boat hurl itself at a silver serving tray from the dining room.
Wham-smash
! They were both destroyed.

I watched in horror as one of the heavy living room chairs rolled slowly toward me. It flipped end over end, smashed into the sofa, which shot up as if weightless, and then wedged itself in the doorway.

But how could I see what was going on? A moment ago it had been totally dark. Wait—there was a ghostly shimmering light over everything. I raised my head a fraction to try to find the source of the light. A heavy book zeroed in on my head. I ducked and the book slammed into the mirror behind me, exploding in a tinkly shower of glass.

I had to get out of here.

Cautiously I looked up again. The light seemed to be coming from upstairs. A soup ladle whizzed past my ear. I flinched away but not before I saw something move in the shadows at the top of the stairs.

My eyes searched the gloom beyond the light. There
was
something—someone—up there.

Two figures appeared in the ghostly light. One was tall, shrouded, and menacing—the thing that had come for me in my room. The other shape looked small and helpless, like a child. The weird, shimmery light swirled around their feet like glowing fog.

Suddenly the smaller shape broke away and tried to run toward me. But the tall thing grabbed it and held it back.


Jason
,” cried the child. “
Jason, help me! Help me
!”

It was Sally, and the tall thing had her in its skeleton hands.

26

The sound of my sister's frightened cry made me leap up. I had to help her, no matter what.

The weird light flickered and beckoned me up the stairs. The two figures at the top struggled. I had to go to my sister. I had to save her!

But the thing had fooled me before with Sally's voice. Maybe it wasn't really her.

I hesitated and Sally cried out again, in pain this time. She twisted away but the skeleton thing had tight hold of her. “Jason!”

Sally's voice pierced my heart. I knew it was really Sally this time. I could feel it.

I gulped back my fear. The storm of flying objects was subsiding. A candlestick dropped abruptly to the floor and rolled lifelessly into a corner.

The evil that awaited me at the top of the stairs was far worse than a bunch of flying objects. I wanted to crawl into a corner and scream for my parents. Let them handle this, or make it go away. But would they ever hear me?

Now or never, Jason. Just do it.

I clenched my jaw and bolted up the stairs to Sally.

The ghostly light blazed brighter as I ran into it. But where was Sally? I whirled one way, then the other, reaching out. Both figures had disappeared.

And something was very wrong.

The hallway was different. The doors weren't where they should be. Sally's room was gone.

And the hall stretched without end into blackness.

I ran to the nearest door and turned the handle. Locked. I ran to the next and the next and the next. All locked. I ran back, banging on the doors and calling for Sally.

Chest heaving, I slumped against the wall, defeated. I didn't know what to do next. How would I ever find my little sister? How could I help if I couldn't get to her?

A sound jerked me to attention again. A pattering sound from the farthest, blackest part of the hall. It was coming closer. Footsteps, I realized.

A child's footsteps, running toward me, and coming faster.

“Sally?”

I stepped out into the center of the hall. I could hear a child's frightened breathing. The little footsteps pounded as hard as they could go.

Behind them came heavier steps. The child was being chased!

My breath quickened. Something terrible was about to happen! I started forward, seeking the sound of the frightened child, determined to help. I took a step and something slammed into me, knocking me over. But there was nothing there, nothing to see.

Now the invisible footsteps were flying past me, heading for the stairs.

The ghostly light blazed brighter again and a voice came out of it, screeching with evil. “
Give me that thing! It's mine, all mine! Give it to me now! Right now or else I'll
—”

A child screamed in terror. It hit me like a punch in the gut. The terrified scream increased, then trailed off. The scream of a child falling, falling a long way down.

Falling forever into the darkness.

The eerie light slowly faded. Silence fell over the house like a shroud. A terrible, terrible silence.

27

My whole body was trembling. I knew the falling child wasn't Sally but my dread was deeper than ever. Something terrible had happened here, and it made the whole house into a twisted, haunted place.

I rose on shaky legs. I was almost standing when the floor tilted sharply. My feet flew out from under me and my fingers scrabbled at the smooth floorboards, trying to get a grip.

But there was nothing to hold on to. Nothing to stop my downhill slide. I pressed my heels and hands into the floor but that only made me slide faster.

The whole house was tilting! It was aiming me at the dark end of the hallway. As I got closer, sliding faster and faster, I saw a door at the end of the hall.

It looked like an ordinary door but it was closed, and I was hurtling straight for it, going faster every second with no way to stop.

No way to stop.

I tensed my body and closed my eyes and a heartbeat later I crashed right through the door and came to a skidding stop in the middle of the room.

I got up slowly, aching all over, and looked around. I'd never seen this room before. It was small and bare with no windows.

Behind me the door slammed shut. I whirled around. The door had disappeared. Just four pale, seamless walls, barely visible in the dark.

I was trapped, with no way to escape.

But wait! As I stared in horror at the smooth walls, a sliver of light appeared through a crack in the corner. A way out!

I didn't care if it was a trap. I had to get out. I ran my fingers along the crack, feeling carefully for the outline of a door. It had to be there! Nothing. I felt along the floor but everything was smooth.

Was it my imagination or was the light along the crack starting to dim? “No,” I cried out, and beat my fists against the wall.

I heard a click, felt something give way, and jumped back just as a section of the wall fell forward.

On the other side of the wall was a narrow winding stairway, glowing with faint, cold light. Stairs to nowhere.

As much as I wanted to escape this room, I was never going to climb those stairs. No way. There was something terrible waiting for me up there, I just knew it.

A cold wind sprang up behind me, pushing me toward the stairs. I dug in my heels but the wind was strong and relentless. It pushed me inch by inch toward the opening.

I twisted to get away but the force of the wind turned me back. I was shivering with cold and terror. I braced my hands against the wall on either side of the opening and held on.

The wind was strong, but not strong enough to blow me up the stairs.

I'd beaten it.

Then I heard a faint cry, carried on the wind. “Jason!”

It was Sally. With a sinking sensation, I realized the cry was coming from the top of the stairway.

“Jason, help me, I'm scared,” wailed Sally. “Jason, please.”

I had to go. I was her only chance.

28

As I stepped over the threshold my feet felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. It was as if I was wading through an ocean of my own fear.

“Jason.”

Sally's voice was very faint, getting smaller. I had to hurry. The stairs felt funny under my feet—sort of slippery and spongy. It was hard to get traction.

There was nothing to hold on to but the walls on either side. And the stairs were so steep and narrow.

My foot slipped. I started to go down and caught myself on the stairs with my hands.

I jerked back as if I'd been burned. The surface of the steps felt soft and cold and clammy—like dead human skin!

The stairway was alive
.

I forced myself up the last few stairs, gasping for breath. The small door at the top was open. The door was so low I had to stoop to get inside.

I was in the attic. But not a part I'd ever seen before.

Something told me this room didn't really exist. Not anymore. It was as the attic had been years before. It was as if I'd stepped back in time.

It was the room of a small child. There was a painted wooden rocking horse, a small iron bed, and a rocking chair. The room smelled stale, as if the air was a hundred years old. A cold creepiness tickled up my spine.

Then the rocking chair began to rock. It was facing the other way and I couldn't see who—or what—was in the chair.

It rocked to and fro, to and fro.


Come to me
,” said a faint unrecognizable voice from the shadowy depths of the chair. “
Come to me, Jason. Come to me or die
!”

29

More than anything I wanted to run out of that strange little room and never look back. I didn't want to know what was in that rocking chair. I didn't care, all I wanted to do was get out of there.

But I couldn't leave Sally.

The house kept trying to trick me, trying to scare me. It didn't want me to find my little sister. It wanted her all to itself.

Something told me that if I ran down the stairs the house would let me back into my own room. I could sleep safe in my own bed. But I'd have to leave my sister behind.

I couldn't do that.

I opened my eyes. The little chair was still rocking there in the dark, in the shadows.

I had to know. Dread seeped into my veins as I crept toward the chair.

It kept rocking,
creeeek, creeeek, creeeeeek
.

I stretched out my hand, hestitated, then spun the chair around.

“Sally!”

It was my little sister. She was slumped in the chair, her blond curls covering her face.

I knelt on the floor and touched her shoulder. “Sally!”

She stirred, raised her head. I held my breath. Was she all right?

Sally opened her eyes, yawned, and smiled at me. I hugged her.

“Sally, how did you get here?”

She snuggled in my arms. “I don't know,” she said, puzzlement in her voice. “I went to sleep and when I woked up I was in that little bed. It's Bobby's bed.”

“You don't remember getting up here?”

Sally shook her head. “Bobby wants me to do something. But I didn't know what to do so I just got up and rocked in the chair. I knew you would come and save me.”

I looked around and held Sally tighter. “What about Bobby? Is he here?”

Sally pushed away from me and looked around. “No. I don't think he is. He's in trouble.”

“Trouble? What kind of trouble?” I asked.

“He wants us to save him,” Sally said, looking at me with her big blue eyes.

“Save him from what?”

“I don't know.” Sally clutched my arm with her little hand. “Something terrible.”

Behind me the floorboards creaked heavily. Something had come into the room. I thrust Sally behind me and turned around to face it.

The grandfather clock was standing in the doorway
.

How did it get all the way up here?

The clock struck the hour. The sound echoed in the small, low-ceilinged room. Three times it struck.

When the echo died out, a metallic, mechanical voice began to speak from inside the clock.

BOOK: The Haunting
11.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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