Here is Chapter 27. I apologize for the delay but my heart just wasn't in writing last week after the attacks. My heart and prayers go out to everyone affected by these tragedies.
http://www.steliko.com/bleedinghearts
Email: Aterovis@aol.com
Chapter 27
I was sitting on the front porch later that afternoon waiting for Micah. I had dressed casual as he had suggested; a pair of faded jeans, a dark blue short-sleeved sweater shirt that really brought out my eyes (or so Adam had insisted) and my brown leather sandals. I was enjoying the cool breeze off the ocean when Micah pulled up.
I ran to his car and jumped into the passenger seat before he could get out and open my door for me.
"Hi," I said as I turned to look at him, slightly breathless and not from the short run to the car.
He was smiling ear to ear, his dark hair falling appealingly over one eye. He was wearing a moss green button-up shirt over a white T-shirt and jeans. He looked, in a word, incredible.
"Hi," he said back. "This was the longest day. I couldn't wait to see you." He leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss on the lips before throwing the car into reverse and backing into the street.
I smiled and tried not to blush. "So where are we going?" I asked him.
"Do you still need to be in Chicone by eight?" he asked, a more obvious hint I've never seen.
"We have to be at Chicone by eight," I answered him, stressing the 'we'.
"So it's ok with, uh, Steve if I'm there?"
"Steve said the more the merrier as far as he's concerned. Plus I think he loved the idea of free publicity. Kane said you could take his place but Judy specifically said that she wanted everyone who was there the other night to be there again tonight."
"So, is this Judy person a medium or something?"
"Not exactly. She has...um, powers."
He raised an eyebrow. "Able to leap small buildings in a single bound?"
I laughed. "Not quite. I guess maybe it's better to use her word for it. She's gifted. Sometimes she just knows things. For some reason when all this happened she came to mind and apparently she's very interested. She's quite a character, although she's mellowed a lot since I first met her."
"How do you know her?"
"Well, er, she's my ex's aunt."
"Oh, that's cool. Look, Killian, you don't have to be all uncomfortable about mentioning your ex. You had a life before me, I understand that. I had a life before you too. I've told you about some of it and if you hang around long enough you're bound to find out more."
"So are you saying when you came out of the closet you left some skeletons in there?" I asked lightly.
Micah frowned and answered seriously, "You could say that."
That certainly piqued my curiosity. "Like what?" I asked, examining his face.
"I'd rather not talk about it right now. Sometime, I promise, just not right now."
I nodded somewhat uncertainly and we made small talk until we arrived at the restaurant he'd chosen. It was a small, cozy pizzeria with wine-bottles turned candleholders in the center of each red-check tablecloth draped table. They served an assortment of the usual Italian fare besides pizza but we ended up just ordering a pizza with everything sans anchovies. We both agreed it was unthinkable to eat whole fish on your pizza.
We chatted while we ate and soon the pie was history. Micah paid the bill and we walked out to the car. It was still early but Micah suggested we drive out to the house anyway. He was eager to see it and he wanted me to show him the graveyard before everyone got there. Turned out that Adam, Steve and Kane beat us there anyway. Kane was sitting forlornly on the front steps, while Adam and Steve were out of sight, most likely in the house.
"Hey Kane," I said as we climbed out of the car. "Are Adam and Steve inside?"
"Hey Killian, hey Micah," he said glumly. "Yeah, they've been in there for a while now. I think they might be painting. I refuse to go in until I have to."
"I guess nothing's happened?"
"Well, no one's come out screaming and I haven't heard any signs of violent death, so that's the assumption I'm operating under."
"Aren't you just a barrel of sunshine."
"Bite me."
"I think I'll pass, thanks."
"Ok, you two. Jeez, you fight like brothers," Micah jumped in with a grin. We both turned lethal glares on him and he pretended to cower behind a tree. We all laughed.
"So Kane, you want to walk back to the graveyard with Micah and me?" I asked. I didn't think there was much chance he'd accept so I was surprised when he jumped right up.
"Sure, anything is better than sitting here alone on this damn porch waiting for the icy hand of death to grab me by the shoulder."
"Icy hand of death?" Micah repeated. "Is he always this melodramatic?"
"Yeah, and he's the straight one," I said. Kane threw a playful punch at me but I dodged and we all started walking back towards the graveyard. It didn't take long to show it to him since I wasn't up to climbing through the briars again and with the evidence of my last trip still quite obvious on my skin neither was Micah. The wind had picked up as we walked across the yard and dark clouds seemed to be gathering on the horizon.
"Is it supposed to storm tonight?" I asked.
'They said it was possible," Micah answered.
"Great, the perfect setting for contacting the dead in haunted house," Kane grumbled. "Steve couldn't have ordered better weather."
"It's just a summer storm," I said as we started back. "It's not an omen or anything. It'll be over in no time, probably before Judy even gets here."
But Judy's car was already parked in front of the house by the time we came back around the corner. The wind had continued to pick up until it was blowing quite hard and the first fat raindrops had just begun to fall as we hurried onto the porch and inside.
"Whew!" I gasped once we were inside and the door was firmly shut. "Man, that blew up quick."
"It was a dark and stormy night..." Micah said with a small smile.
"We're in here," Steve called from the direction of the ballroom. We followed his voice and found him, Adam, and Judy standing close together by the fireplace, talking. The chandelier in the center of the room provided a soft, rather muted lighting effect that would have been perfect for a social gathering but wasn't quite enough to reach into the far corners, leaving the uneasy feeling that anything could be lurking there, just out of sight.
They turned towards us as we came into the room. Judy's eye immediately fell on Micah.
"Judy, this is my friend Micah Gerber," I introduced quickly. "Micah is a reporter for the local paper. Micah, this is Judy Davis."
They shook hands while Judy looked him over. Micah shifted uneasily under her scrutiny. I couldn't blame him. It was almost like she was looking into him. I remembered being trapped in that gaze myself and didn't envy him for a second.
To look at Judy you would never think for a second that she could be so intimidating. She's petite and pretty with short curly blonde hair that always reminds me of Meg Ryan's infamous locks and bright, piercing blue eyes.
Judy released his hand and nodded. "Ok, but try to stay out of the way, ok?"
"Sure thing," Micah said. "That was the understanding." He immediately drew himself away from the rest of us and lounged against the wall by the door that led back into the hall.
"Ok," Judy said and all eyes were immediately on her. We knew instinctively that this was her show, we were just bit players. "I've never really done anything like this so we're all going to be working blindly."
"That doesn't inspire confidence," Kane muttered under his breath, but Judy heard him anyway.
"I don't think we have anything to be afraid of, Kane. From what I've been able to gather the spirits in this house, if there are any, and it seems there are, have never been violent or dangerous. I think, like Killian said, that she, meaning Amalie, just wants to tell us something."
"Well, what do we have to do?" Steve asked, obviously eager to get started.
"I think the first thing we need to do is see if there's anything that all her, er, manifestations have in common."
Everyone thought for a moment but no one volunteered anything. A sudden crack of thunder made us all jump.
"I can't think of anything," Steve said. "And I've been here every time, although I haven't seen her."
"Well, that's something. If you've been here every time..."
"But I've been here lots of times when nothing has happened."
"Something has happened every time I've been here," I spoke up.
"Me too," Kane added.
"Yeah, but you've only been here once," I said.
"How many times have you been here, Killian?" Judy asked.
"Three or four."
"Actually," Steve said slowly, "The only times I can remember anything obvious happening was when Killian was here." Every eye turned my way.
"Ok, we may be getting somewhere," Judy said.
"What?" I yelped. "What do you mean? Why are you looking at me?"
"You might be some sort of catalyst, Killian," she said. "Sometimes certain people seem to draw supernatural activity, no one knows why. It's usually a young child right around the age of puberty, but some people have been known to attract them throughout their entire life. And then there are sensitives."
"Sensitives?" Adam asked.
"A sensitive is someone who is, well, sensitive to that other plane beyond the one we move in. They are more aware of things many people never see or feel. It used to be called the sixth sense, which is where they got the name of that movie."
"I see dead people," Kane whispered. I shot him a dirty look. I couldn't help but think about Seth and what he'd said the night before.
"Are you a sensitive?" Adam asked Judy.
"A fairly strong one," she said. "But what I'm more interested in now is whether or not Killian is." She faced me. "Usually a sensitive knows if he or she is. What do you think, Killian?"
I thought about my conversation with Seth. He hadn't used the word sensitive but he had said that I was special and that's why I could see him and talk to him. But then, why hadn't I ever felt like that before? I hadn't had I? Not that I could remember. I shook my head in frustration. "I don't know. Maybe."
"Well, so far you are the only person who has seen her. That's a good sign right there, that she would let you see her."
"I don't think she really expected me to see her," I said slowly, remembering my impressions. "She seemed almost as surprised as I was."
"Really?" Judy said with interest. "Then you may be a very strong sensitive if you can see her even when she doesn't necessarily want you to."
"Well if Killian's presence is what's causing her to act up, why are things happening when he's not here?" Steve asked. "We've been having a lot of trouble with work crews getting so spooked they actually quit. I don't think it was anything major, certainly no one saw her that I know of, but things disappearing, footsteps where no one is supposed to be, and that damn baby crying."
"Killian isn't causing her to act up. She's trying to get our attention for some reason. She may sense that Killian is a sensitive and step up her efforts when he is here, but it seems like she's attempting to make some sort of contact all the time."
"She's been quiet tonight," Adam pointed out.
"Good," Kane threw in.
Just then a huge flash of lightning lit up the room followed almost instantaneously by an ear-shattering crack of thunder. The whole house seemed to shake as the light flickered and threatened to go out.
"Maybe the storms just drowning her out," Steve said dryly.
"Do we have any candles here in case the lights go out?" Adam asked Steve.
"Oh, great, just what we need," Kane wailed. "Being in a haunted house during a storm just isn't complete without the electricity going out and everyone stumbling around with candles. How cliché can you get?"
"Kane," Adam said in a warning tone. It was clear his patience was beginning to wear thin with Kane's constant bitching.
Steve cleared his throat. "No candles, but I have a flashlight out in the car, maybe I should go get that."
"I have one, too," Judy said.
"Me too," Micah added. I'd almost forgotten he was there, he'd been so quiet.
"Come on, Micah," Steve said, "You and I can go get them. No sense in all of us getting wet. Where is yours at Judy?"
"In the glove compartment," she told him and they hurried from the room. She turned back to me once they were gone. "I think Steve said that she seems to have a fixation on the door that leads to the cupola and that's actually where you saw her, right?"
I nodded.
"There may be some connection there. Can you show me where it is?"
I felt my eyes grow wide at the idea of going up there again, and in the middle of a huge storm, but I took a deep breath and nodded.
"I can show you," Adam said, noticing my unease.
"Actually, I'd rather Killian did it," Judy said firmly. "I want to hear the story directly from him and get his impressions. And I'd rather the rest of you stayed here."
I heard Kane give a little sigh of relief.
"You know," Adam started, "I had a lot of trouble with this at first. I didn't want to accept that there might actually be ghosts. It just seems so unreal, like something out of a horror movie."
"Oh, they're real," Judy assured him. "They aren't like what you see on TV or movies most of the time. Very often they are people who died violently or suddenly with something important to them left unfinished."
"Unfinished business," Kane said softly.
Judy smiled at him. "Yes, unfinished business."
"Will they go away if their business gets finished?" Kane asked.
"Sometimes, and sometimes not. I'm not sure why they sometimes don't. Maybe they are trapped in this plane, unable to return because of some decision they've made, or maybe they just prefer to stay here, they've grown accustomed to it."
"I hope she leaves if we figure out what she wants."
"Why? Is she really harming anyone? Most don't really mean to hurt the living, unless maybe you had something to do with their untimely death."
"What about all the things you hear on TV and in stories about evil ghosts?" Kane asked.
"There are other beings at work than just ghosts," Judy said carefully.
"Like what?" Adam asked sharply.
"Do you believe in angels?" Judy asked in return.
"Well, yes, I guess so."
"Well, Judaic history, the Bible, Torah, whatever you want to call it, tells of the fall of some of the angels."
"Lucifer," I said.
"Exactly, along with a third of the host of heaven. Since it also says that the angels were as many as the stars in the sky or the sands on the shore, even a third of them would have been an enormous number. Many of them were twisted after the fall, evil if you will. They are often called demons."
"So you're saying-" Adam was cut off as the front door swung open with a loud bang before being slammed shut again. Micah and Steve re-entered the room now soaking wet and carrying three flashlights.
Steve handed Judy hers and he kept the other one. Micah kept the one he'd brought in.
"Well, Killian, let's go," Judy said cheerfully.
"Where are you going?" Steve asked as Micah opened his mouth, no doubt to ask the same thing.
"Killian and I are going to go upstairs so he can show me the door to the cupola. I'd like the rest of you to stay here and wait. I don't anticipate us being gone very long."
I could tell Micah was dying to go but he leaned back against the wall without a word although his eyes followed us as we left the room. I switched lights on as we went although not every fixture had a bulb in it. Judy started talking to me in a low voice almost as soon as we were out of the room.
"Killian, I have no doubt that you are a sensitive. I've always thought you might be and this just confirms it. Now we just need to figure out how strong your gift is. Your impressions and feelings could be invaluable to figuring this out."
"But I don't have any impressions," I said, "and my only feeling right now is carefully controlled terror."
She laughed. "I guess this must be somewhat scary considering it is your first time. It is your first time, right?"
"First time?"
"Seeing the spirit of a dead person?"
I hesitated a moment before answering and that was all the answer she needed. "It isn't, is it?" she said, jumping on my meaningful pause.
"Maybe," I said stubbornly. I wasn't ready to talk about Seth. Besides, that was different. I knew him and he wasn't scary at all. Except for when he woke me up in the middle of the night by sitting on my bed.
Judy let it go, although I was sure it wouldn't be the last I heard of it. "Tell me the whole story of what happened when you saw Amalie."
I quickly told her the whole story, which didn't take long since there wasn't that much to tell. When I had finished, she asked, "And what were your impressions when you were in the hallway, or in the cupola?"
I thought back. "I felt like there was something in the hallway with me when I came out of the room I was painting in, but I didn't see anything except that the door was open, the cupola door. I didn't feel anything in the room. Well, actually, I was really scared on the stairs going up there, but that was just because I was so afraid of what I might see. Once I got up there and saw it was empty I was fine."
"Or maybe you felt something in the staircase, some latent emotions."
By now we'd reached the hallway on the third floor. I flipped the switch and a single light bulb lit the corridor. It was enough to see that the door was closed. We walked down the hall and stopped in front of the door. It was latched. I felt a chill go up my spine as Judy reached out and unlocked it. She turned the knob and the door swung open with an eerie creak, the perfect sound effect for the scene. She stepped back.
"Light?" she asked. It seemed as if we had both suddenly run out of words, or maybe our thoughts were just too taken up with the moment at hand. Or maybe Judy felt the same sense of tension and foreboding that I felt. I reached around her, keeping her in front of me still, and threw the switch. Nothing happened. I flicked it back and forth a few times but it was obvious the bulb had burnt out.
"Good thing I brought the flashlight," Judy mumbled and clicked it on. A narrow, somewhat weak beam cast a path up the worn wooden steps. The dim light from the hall didn't reach much past the first couple steps and beyond that there was just an inky gloom punctuated by the flash of lightning. I wasn't at all keen on going up there but I was less keen on staying down here by myself, so when Judy started mounting the stairs I was right on her heels.
About halfway up she suddenly stopped with a sharp intake of breath and began to sway back and forth unsteadily. I grabbed her around the waist and she braced herself against the wall with one hand.
"What is it?" I whispered hoarsely.
"Don't you feel it?" she gasped.
"Feel what?"
"My God," she moaned thinly. Her knees seemed to buckle and she began to sink down onto the stairs. My grip slipped from her waist to under her arms as I began to frantically try and drag her back down the stairs. "No," she said, her voice stronger. She pulled herself back up and quickly ran up the last few steps. I quickly followed.
She just stood there for a minute, staring back down the stairs. The room was constantly lit up with flickering blue-white light as one streak of lightning followed after another with almost no pause in between. The roll of thunder was an almost deafening rumble up here, like a passing parade of Harleys. The glass in the windows rattled in its panes from the wind, rain and thunder. If I hadn't been so terrified I would have been awed by the sheer majesty of Nature. I felt like I was in the very center of the storm.
Judy spoke, her voice bringing me back to the present with a thud, "Something happened on these stairs."
"What?" I said, my throat tightening.
"I'm not sure," she said slowly. "I felt a wave of pain down there that almost dropped me to my knees, physical pain. And I sense death."
I had to gulp several times before I could speak again, "Could that be the ghost?"
"No, I don't think so. It felt...different. I felt mourning too. And..."
"And what?"
"I don't know, but whatever it is, it's a part of the steps now, like a psychic stain."
We were both quiet for a minute; there was just the sound of thunder in the small room.
"Why would she come to this room?" she asked, almost to herself.
"She came to watch for her husband," I answered. "You can see quite a ways up the river from here. He was a sea captain. She would come up here to wait for him. Except he never came back that last time. He died at sea." I was babbling and I knew it. She'd probably already heard all this before but it was preferable to the silence. "Maybe that's why she keeps coming back, she's still waiting for her husband. And that's why she's mourning. Maybe she even killed herself or died on the stairs."
"Poppycock," Judy said, waving away my suggestion. "That kind of melodramatic romantic crap only happens in those old Victorian gothic novels. No real woman strong enough to run a house like this on her own would pine away waiting for a husband to come back that she barely knew."
"Barely knew?"
"He was much older than her, right?"
"Well, yeah."
"And he was away on the sea for months at a time, probably for much of the year. No doubt she did keep watch for him, if for no other reason than to be ready for him when he arrived, welcoming him like any good wife. But I seriously doubt that she was so in love with him that she threw herself down the stairs to her death when he failed to appear on schedule. Besides, Steve didn't say anything about her dying tragically, and trust me, the newspapers of the time would have mentioned it if she had. My guess is she died of some illness. There is the taint of death on these stairs though, and what is it that draws her here?"
I was about to suggest we go back downstairs and discuss this with everyone else when a huge streak of lightning hit somewhere close to the house. The accompanying sound was like an explosion and left my ears ringing. The flash itself left me blind for a few seconds. When I blinked away the spots I realized that the hall light was out now too. I hadn't realized how the dull glow had been a kind of anchor until it was gone. The only light now to be seen came from the flashlight in Judy's hand and the ever-present lightning.
"That sounded close," Judy said. "Maybe we'd better go check on the others."
"Sounds good to me," I said weakly.
She started down the stairs with me right behind. Again, she stopped abruptly about halfway. I reached out to steady her but she didn't seem to need it. Her body had become rigid. I felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck and I knew without looking why she'd stopped so suddenly.
"I think," Judy said under her breath, "that she wants us to follow her."