Dark Spirit Read online

  Still trembling, I returned to my room and had just gotten inside when I heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. Making sure the door was locked I stood with my ear pressed against it, icy fear twisted around my heart. I listened as the footsteps thundered past my door and in the direction of the attic. I didn’t have to open the door to know that they belonged to no one human. After a few moments, the house became quite once again and I allowed myself to go back to bed feeling that though I was scared to death, I had made some progress. Everything seemed to be centered on the attic and I was determined to find out why.

  The remainder of the night I tossed and turned, afraid to even close my eyes, and eventually getting up before the crack of dawn. When Dillon showed up a few hours later, he found me sitting on the front steps. “What are you doing out here?”

  I patted the step beside me. 'Sit down. Something happened last night.” I didn’t leave out a single detail as I recanted the evening’s events. “So, I guess now you think I’m really crazy.”

  He slid across the porch step and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him and gently shaking me. “No I don't, but you can’t keep staying somewhere you’re afraid to sleep. No offense, but you have dark circles under your eyes after just two nights in this place.”

  I leaned back and closed my eyes, liking the protective feeling being in his arms gave me. “I know, and there’s a different feel to the house this morning, the air is thicker, the rooms seem darker.”

  Dillon pressed his lips to my forehead, and I felt it all the way to my toes. “Last night I watched a program about a family who had a psychic go through their house.”

  I sat up and looked at him, intrigued by the possibility. “If I wanted a psychic to go through my house, how could I get in touch with someone like that?”

  “Well, I spoke with a friend of mine at the police department who told me about this woman in Asheville who sometimes works with them. She’s helped them locate lost children, found bodies, and helped solve several cases. He gave me her number. Do you want me to call her?”

  “Yes, please.” I dared myself to feel hopeful. Here was someone who might be able to shed some light on what the heck was going on in my house, or at least I hoped she could. Dillon called and arranged a time for her to come by.

  She arrived at precisely three o’clock looking nothing like what I expected a psychic to look. No more than four-foot- two, with cotton white hair, she introduced herself with a smile. “I’m Abigail Wallace, but call me Abby. May we begin?”

  “Yes, of course,” I said, my pulse began to pound as we walked toward the house. I felt torn. A part of me wanted to know what was going on, and a part of me was afraid to find out.

  Dillon looped my arm through his. “It’ll be alright,” he whispered against my ear, his breath warming my cheek.

  I nodded and almost ran into Abby, because she had suddenly come to a stop right in front of the steps.

  “He doesn’t want us here,” she said.

  “Who?” I asked, petrified.

  She closed her eyes for a moment. “He's telling me that his name is William Sawyer and that this is his house, it always has been, and always will be.” Abby slowly moved up the steps, not stopping again until she stood at the door. She closed her eyes and appeared to be listening to someone. “He's gone, but there’s a woman here, now. She’s crying and begging me to help her get away from him.”

  “Who is she?” I asked, already knowing what she was going to say.

  “Adeline is her name. Her husband locked her up in the attic without food or water until she died. He told everybody she left him and went back to Kentucky to live with her family after the baby died. When their son was born, she got so sick she couldn’t take care of him. William went away on a business trip, and when he returned, he found her in bed with their son’s body beside her. William went into a rage and accused her of killing his son.” Abby turned and looked at me. “She’s gone.”

  I shivered and moved closer to Dillon. “I thought people’s souls went to the light when they died. Why are these two still here?”

  “She’s here because he won’t let her leave, and he’s here because he’s afraid of what he’ll find on the other side. He knows it won’t be good, after what he did to her.”

  Dillon spoke up. “Is there anything that can be done to get the spirits to move on?

  “We can try, but there’s no guarantee.” We followed Abby as she walked through the kitchen and out the back door. “This is the direction he carried her body.” She pointed into the woods. “Adeline’s showing me her grave. She’s buried in a laurel thicket wrapped in a quilt her mother made for her when she was a little girl. She wants to be buried beside her baby in the cemetery.”

  Determined to see for himself, Dillon went back to the shed and scrounged around until he found the remains of a rusty shovel and brought it back. He pushed the point into the earth and after a bit of digging, found the tattered remains of a quilt. He looked up at me, shaking his head in disbelief.

  I stood there dumbfounded, looking from him to the grave. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”

  Abby nodded. “Yes, they’ll take care of the arrangements to move her remains to the cemetery. That’s the first step. After that’s done, the real battle begins. William Sawyer is not going to go peacefully.”

  A short time later, she drove away, leaving us staring after her, believing, yet disbelieving. “Jamie, you can stay with me for a few days. I don’t want you staying one more day in this house.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but I knew that he was right. I wouldn’t sleep a wink until I knew that the spirits, especially him, had moved on. “Okay, let me pack a few things. I won’t be long.”

  He waited downstairs while I packed an overnight bag and put Moe in his carrier. I heard him come down the hall. “I’m glad you’re here, there’s no way I can carry this bag and Moe.” Dillon didn’t say anything, so I turned and looked at him. What I saw turned my blood to ice. A black mass resembling a human shape hovered in the doorway. It moved toward me and I backed up against the wall, screaming at the top of my lungs.

  Dillon raced up the stairs. I heard his footsteps suddenly stop. “Jamie, I see it. Are you alright?”

  My voice trembled as I spoke. “Yes, it was coming toward me.” The mass slowly floated out into the hall and dissipated. I took that opportunity to grab my bag and race out of the room, shoving Moe’s carrier into Dillon’s arms.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said, following me down the stairs and out the front door.

  It didn’t take us long to reach his house, a recently renovated, bungalow style house only a couple of miles from mine. I hated to admit it as I went inside, but I was glad to be out of my own house for a while. I wasn’t being a big chicken, but I 'd been frightened by something I previously hadn’t even believed in.

  I looked around the room, admiring the dark trim and detailed moulding. “Your house is beautiful, Dillon.”

  He closed the door behind me. “Thanks. I did the restoration myself, except for the electrical and plumbing.”

  “Wow! You did a great job. Now I know where to go for help when I get started on my own, that is if I ever get to live there. Where do you want me to put my things?”

  “Down the hall, first room on the right. Make yourself at home while I get dinner started.” He headed for the kitchen.

  I suddenly thought of Moe, who was still sitting in his carrier. “Oh, no! I don’t have a litter box for Moe! I got so frightened back there, and all I could think of was getting out!”

  Dillon turned around and laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ve got everything covered. The previous owners left a litter box and a bag of litter. I always figured something must have happened to their cat. It’s in the shed out back. Go and get settled in. Moe and I will be just fine.”

  Before I knew what I was doing, I raced up to him and kissed him on the cheek. He looked surprised. “What’s that for?
Not that I minded.”

  I looked into his eyes, suddenly realizing that I was falling in love with him.

  “You hardly know me, but yet, you’ve helped me, even giving me a place to stay where I can feel safe. You’ll never know how much that means to me.”

  He pulled me close and gently kissed me. I had experienced more passionate kisses, but never one that touched me the way that one did. He stepped back and smiled at me. “Go on up and get some rest. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

  For some reason I felt close to tears. All I could do was nod and hurry out of the kitchen.

  The bedroom was decorated with lots of large, dark mahogany furniture, and I realized that I was in the master bedroom. Yawning, I put down my things and lay down on the bed for a short nap. I took a deep breath. Everything smelled like Dillon, and that provided me with a sort of comfort. Before long I dozed off.

  When I woke, it was already dark outside. I looked at the clock and realized that I'd been asleep for almost three hours! I washed my face, raked my fingers through my hair, and went downstairs to find Dillon. He was sitting at the kitchen table in front of a laptop with papers spread out everywhere. He looked up and smiled. “Hello, sleepyhead. I went to get you for dinner and you were out like a light. I decided you needed the sleep more than the food right then.”

  I sat down at the table across from him. “You were right, I did. I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was.”

  He took a plate out of the oven and set it in front of me. “I hope you like chicken casserole. It’s my specialty.”

  I would have liked it no matter what it had been. I couldn’t remember the last time a man had not only cooked for me, but served me too. “I love chicken casserole.” He waited while I took a bite. “Umh, wonderful. It really is delicious, Dillon.”

  “Thanks,” he said and sat back down. “While you were asleep, I let my friend at the sheriff’s department know about our discovery in the woods. He said they would take it from here. And Abby called. She talked with someone who does house cleansings, which means they know how to get spirits out.”

  I froze, with my fork halfway to my mouth. “Do you believe someone can really do that?”

  He shrugged. “She was pretty convincing, said he knows what he’s doing. Abby wants to know if you would like him to see if he can help you.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “How much will it cost me?”

  “Not a thing. She said he does it to help people, the ones who are alive and the ones who aren’t.”

  I was hesitant. “What do you think?”

  “You’ll never find any peace in that house until the spirits are gone. Anyway, it won’t hurt to give it a try.”

  I sighed, “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  Dillon returned Abby’s call and set up a meeting up for two-o’clock the next day. We spent the rest of the evening in front of the television watching a comedy, with me snuggled up against Dillon.

  After the movie, he shut off the TV. “I’m glad that you’re here. He gently fingered my hair back and brushed a kiss across my neck. My breath caught in my throat.

  “Me too.” I wanted him to kiss me and I wasn’t disappointed. This kiss, unlike the one earlier, was filled with passion.

  He stopped kissing me and leaned his forehead against mine. “When I went upstairs and saw you asleep on my bed, it took every bit of gentleman in me to walk out of that room.”

  “Oh, Dillon.”

  He stood up and pulled me off the couch. “And that same bit of gentleman is telling you to go to bed before I can change my mind.”

  “Goodnight,” I said, my brain registering the significance of his words.

  Dillon had to go in to work for a few hours the next day, and we met in front of my house at 2:00 sharp. Abby was there, along with a man she introduced as Rob Moss.

  He was perhaps in his mid fifties, tall and thin, with an old fashioned handlebar moustache. But the thing that stood out the most about him, were his pale blue eyes.

  I shook his hand, trying to decide whether or not to believe that he could do what Abigail said he could. “Mr. Moss, thank you for coming. Any help you could give us will be greatly appreciated.”

  Mr. Moss smiled. “I'll do what I can, young lady. Sometimes they go peaceably, sometime they don’t. Are you ready to get started?”

  I looked over at Dillon and he squeezed my hand. I turned back to Mr. Moss. “Yes.”

  “First I need to get a feel for what’s going on here.”

  “Abby, what do you see?"

  "William’s guarding the door," she said, walking up to stand beside Rob.

  He nodded, never taking his eyes off the door. “I see him, too.”

  He walked closer to the door and a dark shadow with the human shape passed in front of it. “You must leave this place, William. It belongs to the living, not the dead.”

  I blinked, not believing what I was seeing. I always thought such things only happened in horror movies. Boy, was I wrong.

  Rob walked into the house with Abby at his heels. They stopped in front of the staircase, staring at something I couldn’t see.

  A shiver moved down my spine, as a cold breeze engulfed me. My teeth began to chatter. “I’m so cold.”

  Abby rushed over to me. "Move away from her, William,” she ordered. Nothing happened. "Move away now!"

  The sensation stopped as quickly as it began. I felt weak and leaned back against Dillon. Then the crying started upstairs, beginning as a high pitched wail, growing fainter as it centered in the attic.

  We followed Rob and Abby up to the attic. He opened the door and went inside. “Adeline, don't be afraid. We're here to help you. You don’t have to let him keep you here. Your son’s spirit is not here because he’s gone into the light. If you leave this place and go into the light, you will find your little one there. Yes, I know William’s nearby, don’t think about him. Focus on seeing your son again. Do you see the light, Adeline? Good! Good! Let the warmth and brightness envelope you; don’t look back. You’re almost there. Your mother is waiting for you with your baby in her arms.”

  "Thank you," whispered a female voice, right before a woman's laughter echoed throughout the attic, and I knew that Adeline was safe from her cruel husband and in heaven with her son.

  Rob suddenly whirled around and held up both hands, his palms facing the door “William, stop right there. Adeline's already gone into the light; you can’t bring her back. There’s nothing left to hold you to this house, and it doesn’t belong to you any longer. You’re not wanted here! Go! Now!”

  The house began to moan and groan as if it were alive. It sounded as if a length of chain was being dragged down the stairs. I held on to Dillon for dear life, terrified of what might happen next. A man’s voice echoed through the house, “No, leave me be! Don't take me!" he screamed, then the house grew silent and still.

  Abby turned to me. “Now, you have nothing to fear. Adeline is with her baby, where she is meant to be and William is where he is meant to be as well.”

  I hugged her neck. “Thank you for all you help.” I turned to Rob. “I can’t thank you enough. You not only made me happy, but I know you made Adeline happy too.”

  “You’re very welcome. Make this house the home it was meant to be.”

  And that’s exactly what I did.

  Dillon and I were married the next spring in the garden which we worked so hard to transform to its original state. Now, as I sit in the window seat of the attic room-turned baby playroom, I wave at Dillon through the window, as he rakes oak leaves from our front yard. Thatcher, our beautiful baby boy, with his black curls and olive complexion, so like his father’s, plays contentedly on the floor. We made certain that Adeline’s bones were buried beside her son’s and had a minister say a few kind words over her grave, and since then we haven’t had a problem with spirits. But just remember, whenever the floor creaks or you think you hear voices when no one is there, or you get a whiff of someone else’s perfume
, it may just be someone from the past come to say hello, or it could be a dark spirit seeking revenge. Whenever it comes to the realm of the unknown, sometimes it’s better to keep an open mind.

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