The Haunting of Emily Stone (13 page)

Robert waited for her to continue, but she seemed lost in thought.

“Lizzie?” he said finally. “Did your mother tell you this story?”

“I won't let go,” she replied, as tears ran from her eyes and trickled down her bruised face. “It's so hard and my arms ache so much, but now I've come so far, I won't let go. I'll find a way to tear through this soul and reach your world again.”

She paused, holding her breath.

“Lizzie?” Robert asked finally.

No reply.

“Lizzie?” Looking over at the window, he saw that Catherine was waiting in the corridor, with a hint of worry in her eyes. Turning back to Lizzie, he saw that she'd closed her eyes. “Lizzie, I -”

Suddenly she opened her eyes again, but this time
her
eyes were gone, and there was something else in there. For a moment, it was as if Lizzie's eyes were two holes to another world, and on the other side there was something staring back through, something with dark gray skin and its own, yellowish eyes, something frantic and breathless, panicking and scratching at the inside of the little girl's face.

Before Robert could react, Lizzie screamed and lunged at him.

***

“I'll have to liaise with other agencies,” Catherine explained a short while later, once she and Robert had returned to her office. “There are a lot of stake-holders in this case.”

Staring out the window, Robert watched as a group of children played in the drab, concrete yard.

“You mustn't blame yourself for her reaction,” Catherine added. “She's damaged. You might not appreciate the way a parent can warp a child's mind, but if Emily Stone has been filling her daughter's head with this stuff for long enough, she could easily have affected the way Lizzie experiences reality. If you ask me, it's a form of abuse.”

She waited for him to reply.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Turing to her, he paused for a moment. There were a couple of scratches on his face, from the moment when Lizzie had knocked him onto the floor.

“I'm fine,” he told her. “I just... I wasn't expecting her to do that.”

“I can tell you're a little shaken up.”

He paused, thinking back to the creature he'd seen on the other side of Lizzie's face. He knew it had been a trick, that he'd just allowed himself to get caught up in Lizzie's madness and that his mind had fooled him, but still, he'd never had such a visceral reaction before.

“The important thing,” Catherine continued, “is to focus on the future, and to hope that the condition is reversible. We've had worse cases here, kids who've been through more than this, and we managed to help them. Now that she's away from her mother's influence, I really think we can start to deal with the traumas Lizzie has experienced and slowly but surely unwind a lot of it. The most important thing is to give her an environment where her mother can't get to her. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but when I'm called to speak to the panel that's considering the next best move, I'm going to have to recommend that Emily Stone has no contact with Lizzie at all, not for the foreseeable future.”

“You're probably right,” he replied, still running through the interview with Lizzie in his mind. “I should go,” he said finally. “I need to make a call.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“She's traumatized,” he continued, sitting on the end of his bed in the motel room as he talked to Jenna on the phone. “Whatever's happened to Lizzie Stone, it seems to have caused real damage to her mind. I think she actually believes this stuff.”

“Sometimes parents really fuck their kids up,” Jenna replied.

“There are a few things I want to run past Douglas when I get back tomorrow,” he told her, “but -”

“You're coming back so soon?”

“Do you think I should stay?”

“I don't know, I...” She paused, and after a moment he heard a faint sigh from the other end of the line. “I think you should do what you think is right.”

“No,” he replied, “don't say that again. Tell me what
you
think I should do. I'm not a psychiatrist, I have no experience with children, I have no role to fulfill in any of this -”

“You could talk to Emily Stone.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Because?”

“Because she's a liar. I can't trust a damn thing that comes out of her mouth, she just...” Sighing, he realized there weren't enough words in the English language to convey his horror at the idea.

“Are you sure you're okay?” she asked after a moment. “You sound kind of spooked.”

“I just -” Pausing, he considered telling her how the interview with Lizzie had ended, before realizing that she'd just laugh at him. “It's been a long day,” he said finally. “I'm tired.”

“Well, you asked for my opinion,” Jenna continued, “and I gave it to you. I think you should stay a few days more, see what you can do for Lizzie and maybe, just maybe, try to schedule a meeting with Emily Stone.”

“But why -”

“I've got to go,” she added suddenly. “Tom and I are about to watch a film and he's acting like a spoiled brat because I'm making him wait. Take care of yourself out there, okay? I'll see you when you get back.”

“I actually -” he began, before realizing that she'd hung up. “Enjoy the film,” he muttered.

***

A few minutes later, flicking through the films on the motel's in-room entertainment package, Robert tried to find something that would take his mind off his experience with Lizzie Stone. After a moment, his glance shifted and he found himself looking at the mini-bar.

***

“Number twelve!” the kid behind the counter called out. “Double with fries!”

Leaning past a group of teenagers, Robert took his tray and headed across the all-night restaurant. He'd only drunk a few of the whiskey shots from the mini-bar, so he was barely even tipsy. Finding a spare seat near the window, he set his tray down and then quickly tidied up the mess left by the previous customer. As he sat down, he glanced out the window and saw more teenagers on the far side of the parking lot. After a moment, one of them looked toward him with large, empty eyes.

Telling himself that he was tired and imagining things, he looked down at his food, picked up his burger, and started eating. When he looked up again, the teenagers were already walking away.

***

“Of course you can have the light on,” Catherine said as she set a glass of water next to Lizzie's bed. “We even have different settings, so you can have it on low and still sleep, but not be in the dark. Does that sound good?”

“Mummy's coming in to kiss me goodnight, isn't she?” Lizzie asked.

“Well...” Catherine paused. “Not tonight, sweetie. You just have to be brave.”

“When
is
she coming?”

“Not quite yet.”

“But when?”

“Don't worry, she's perfectly safe. She just has to do a few things for herself right now. That doesn't mean she doesn't love you, though. She loves you very much. You know that, right?”

Lizzie stared up at her for a moment, before nodding cautiously.

“And you're perfectly safe in here,” she continued. “Nothing can get to you, and someone will be on the desk at the end of the corridor all night.” She tapped the red button on the wall. “If you need help and you're too scared to get out of bed, just press that and there'll be someone here in thirty seconds max, okay?”

“Okay,” Lizzie whispered.

As Catherine headed out of the room, she glanced back and saw that Lizzie was staring at her. Once she was outside, she pushed the door shut and then headed to the desk, to tell the night-shift worker to pay particular attention to the new arrival. Lizzie, she explained, was particularly traumatized and was highly likely to call for someone during the night. There was already a note on the file, warning about Lizzie's nightmares and about the need to have someone around at all times. She was a special case, the note added; she had a wild imagination and she seemed to genuinely believe some of the things she claimed to see. Sedation, the note added, was a last-resort measure, but one that could be considered if all else failed.

Back in the room, Lizzie stared at the door, where a small window offered a view of the brightly-lit corridor outside.

After a moment, a dark shape moved past, too fast to be seen properly but...

Lizzie held her breath.

A few seconds later, she realized she could hear a faint buzzing sound coming from the light on the ceiling. She looked up and stared at the light, which began to flicker slightly, as if it was cycling at a slower speed than before. Within a few more seconds, the light had begun to pulse, fading between light and dark as the buzz became louder. Lizzie stared up, wide-eyed and terrified, still holding her breath, until the light suddenly blinked off.

Outside, Catherine hurried through the drizzle, heading to her car on the far side of the dark car park.

At the reception desk, the night worker had already left her post, heading to the storeroom to investigate a persistent bumping sound that had begun just seconds after Catherine had left. She knew she shouldn't leave the desk unmanned, but she figured she'd only be a couple of minutes, and that nothing bad could happen.

In her room, Lizzie continued to stare at the light, hoping against hope that it would come back to life. She knew that if she looked at the door, there would be someone watching her.

In the fast food restaurant, Robert Slocombe noticed that the light directly above his table was flickering.

Lizzie heard a faint scratching sound at the door.

In the store room, the night shift worker was still looking for the source of the bump she'd heard. She made her way past various shelves, but every time she was about to give up and go back to the desk, she heard the bump again. Sighing, she headed to the back of the room.

Closing her eyes, Lizzie listened as the handle slowly turned.

“Hello?” the night shift worker called out, looking along the dark aisles in the storeroom.

Making his way out of the fast food restaurant, Robert took a couple of steps toward his car before stopping and looking to his left. Over on the other side of the car park, beyond the group of teenagers, there stood a small, seedy-looking bar with a bright neon sign on top, proclaiming its name to be The Ocean. Almost on auto-pilot, he began to make his way over, which putting his hands in his pockets to check for change. As he got closer to the bar's front door, he saw out the corner of his eye that one of the teenagers had left her friends and was stepping toward him. He turned to look at her.

Lizzie's whole body was shaking as she sat on the bed, with her legs drawn up so that her knees were under her chin. She could hear the handle turning again and again, but the door was locked. Above, the light was still off, but she kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling, too terrified to look at the window in the door. Finally, she closed her eyes and began to squeeze them tight.

“You're free to go,” the warden said, as he handed a sheath of papers to Emily Stone.

“What?”

“It's midnight,” he replied, checking his watch again. “That's when the previous authority to hold you expired. It's been decided that you're allowed to leave, as long as you accept certain restrictions.”

“What restrictions?” she asked, before looking over at the door and seeing that her lawyer had returned. “
What
restrictions?”

As he got closer to the bar, Robert realized that one of the teenage girls had definitely detached herself from the rest of her group and was keeping pace with him. Even when he started walking faster, she kept up, and he tried to ignore her until finally he reached the door and turned to look back.

Her face was burning.

Still on her bed, Lizzie squeezed her eyes even tighter, until they hurt. Something was scratching at the door.

“Robert!” Jenna called out, sitting up in bed and looking around the dark room. She'd been dreaming, and although the details of the dream were already fading away, she was left with a strong sense of panic, as if vast, dark wings were unfurling in her chest. Looking over at the clock by the bed, she saw that it was just a couple of minutes after midnight. She grabbed her phone and checked for messages, but there were none. For a moment, she considered trying to call him, but then she realized she was probably just over-reacting, and the last thing she wanted was to let him know that she was worried.

“You okay?” Tom asked, rolling over to look at her from the other side of the bed.

“Yeah,” she replied, even though her heart was pounding. “Yeah, of course.”

“Leave her alone!” the girl shouted, grabbing Robert's shoulders and slamming him against the wall, as her face continued to burn. “She's mine!”

The window in Lizzie's door shuddered as a dark, burned hand pressed against the glass.

“Come on,” a voice whispered in the little girl's ear, the same voice she'd heard before at the house, the same voice that had once spoken through her mouth. “Tonight's the night. I could come in there and get you, but I want you to come to me. I need you to show me that you understand. It'll be so much easier if you just open the door for me. I need this. I need to see the world again.”

Deep down in the garden at Emily's house, the dead woman's skeleton twitched slightly.

In the corner of a dark room at a residential home on the edge of town, Joyce Stone sat in silence. Her milky white eyes stared at the shadows on the carpet, as a breeze outside caused the trees to rustle.

“The curfew is from 5pm until 8am, seven days a week,” explained the technician as he clicked the tag around Emily's ankle. “You have to be in your home during those hours. If you break the curfew, even by a minute, you'll be back here so fast, your feet won't even touch the ground.”

“And you can't make any attempt to contact Elizabeth,” the lawyer added. “Emily, I need you to promise me that you understand. There's a protective process in place now to keep her safe and you
have
to respect that, no matter how much you might disagree or how unfair it might seem. I'm confident we can regain custody for you in the long-run, but if you don't play by the rules, it'll be much more difficult to convince a judge that you can be trusted. Do you understand?”

“She needs me,” Emily whispered, watching as the technician finished adjusting her ankle monitor. “She's in danger.”

“No-one's in danger,” the lawyer said firmly. “Lizzie's going to be fine.”

Slowly, Lizzie swung her legs over the side of the bed and set her bare feet down on the cold linoleum floor. The bed creaked as she stood, and with her eyes still closed she began to make her way over to the door, as if some inner force was compelling her to move.

“Get the hell away from me!” Robert shouted, pushing the teenager back as she laughed.

“She needs me,” Emily said again, turning to the lawyer with tears in her eyes. “I can feel it, something's going to happen. You have to tell me where they've taken her!”

“No,” he replied, setting a sheet of paper in front of her, “
you
have to sign this, confirming that you understand the terms of your release. A court date has been set for the next hearing. Don't be stubborn, Emily, this is the best approach for everyone. Play by the rules and the rules will protect you.”

“Okay,” the technician said, pressing a button on the side of the ankle monitor, causing it to beep once. “You're all good to go.”

“What the hell's wrong with you?” the teenager shouted, stepping back. Her face was no longer burning, and she seemed disgusted by the sight of Robert. “I only asked if you had a light! Fucking drunk!”

He watched as she turned and stomped back toward her friends.

Reaching the door, Lizzie kept her eyes closed, even though she could tell someone was waiting for her on the other side. Slowly, she reached up and grabbed the handle.

***

“Open the door,” the voice said softly.

Lizzie shook her head. Her eyes were hurting so much now, she was worried she might damage them permanently, but she was too scared to look up at the window. Somehow, she knew what she'd see if she looked: a woman's face, staring back at her, with most of the skin hacked away to reveal bones beneath.