9 - Terror

Fr. Micheal Breane

June 9, 2000

I was just settling to breakfast when I got a call from some place in the middle of nowhere. I set down the bagel and took up the call.

"Father, there's something on my wall." The man sounded young, frantic. "Please! This place is haunted. But the doors and windows are all shut now that I have the notion to get away. The guests are trapped. Things have been floating. They are threatening me. I finally got the phone to work, now that they have written terror on my wall--" and the other end suddenly cut out.

I sighed and stood, nervous for the young man. Snatching my bagel off the plate, I took it with me on the long drive to the address I had been given when Sam moved. I was his parish priest after all, and he still came the Sunday after he left for the hotel.

~

I knew something was off, knew the poor boy was in otherworldly trouble when I rode in, parked, and reached for my phone only to find it shut suddenly off. I got out, nervous now, crossing myself for courage. The butler let me in.

"Mr. Jay and Miss Hawkins are in the kitchen," he said, arm out to show which way.

"Thank you," I said, letting him open the door for me, since I made a move to but he insisted.

I walked in, but the two didn't notice me at first.

"It's not a very good place for a hotel. It did start out as a castle, a haven for those fighting rebellions against tyrants," the young woman said, frowning.

Sam said, "I know, things have changed, it's in the middle of nowhere, so it should be an attraction of its own...what am I saying? We don't want people here!" His face went pale in his frenzy, then he noticed me. "Father!!" he cried. "Please, drive them away. Save us!"

"I will. Show me the evidence, and we will begin the ritual soon," I said. I was glad I had brought all that was needed, just in case.

The young lady took my arm as Sam led me out. "Father," she said, timidly, "are you an exorcist?"

"Yes, else I would have sent someone else," I replied.

Sam brought us to his room, shaking more as we went on. The young lady came ahead of me and took his arm, visibly calming him. We got onto the sixth floor, and Sam crept ahead, glancing around as though at any moment, something would jump at him.

I frowned at the other young man bobbing oddly on the carpet, a little ways down the hall. His head turned slightly, and he immediately paled to see me. He disappeared in the second I glanced away.

"Here it is," Sam muttered, tugging the door. "It won't open," he said in disbelief.

"Here." I took the handle, and suddenly, it came open with a groan of reluctant submission that sent a shiver down my spine because it was not from the door. I peered inside the ornate room. "O dear."

Scrawled across the wall facing the bed were the words 'delve deeper into our secrets and die' in something red.

I stared a few seconds, and turned, grim, to Sam. He quivered uncontrollably, appearing pale as though about to faint. "We have more on our hands. Let us go the the grounds, and stand before the house." I made a move towards the stairs.

The boy appeared again, face pale and fierce, eyes in immortal fire, hands up. His sleeves fell a little as he rose his arms higher, a bandage around a wrist. He shouted something, but none of us stuck around to find out what.

Hard we pelted down the stairs, running, past everyone, past vases and rugs that came down at our passing to chase us. We got to the door. I whirled around, and at the sign of the cross the objects fell with a clatter to the floor. The dust settled in silence.

The boy's head appeared, hair dark against his chalk white face. He snarled at me. "Get thee gone," he hissed.

The objects quivered once more. I turned, thinking it safer to leave. I took Sam by the arm. "Come!"

I ran, and my hold loosened on him, but I knew he would follow me. I turned to slam the door closed to keep the curse out, but Sam still stood there, pressed against the air.

"Father!" he cried. "I cannot leave! I cannot get past the door!"