Читать книгу Haunting at Remington House - Laura V. Keegan - Страница 27

With dawn comes the sound of the awakening earth. The ritual of transition from dark of night to light of day begins. Birds sing, welcoming the amber orb of sun as it rises above the horizon. Today’s is truly a magnificent sunrise. Even the pounding of the waves on the beach seems more serene this daybreak. Dawn is a peaceful time. A time of gentle quiet. A time to ponder the wonders of nature. . . . For some.

In the upstairs hall of Remington House, the rooms are still dark; the light of morning has not yet penetrated here. The disquieting shuffle of footsteps can be heard pacing back and forth, back and forth. As the sun begins to cast its light into the attic, we see a woman, slight of stature, delicate of feature, pale as mist. She paces, livid with rage, pounding the air with flailing fists. Her lips are pulled back tightly exposing tiny teeth. Listening, we hear her angry voice spitting out obscenities. As the sun continues its ascent, Elise continues her ravings, vile and bitter. One is shocked to hear such dark words spew from such an exquisite creature.

As we watch quietly, not wanting to disturb her even more, we see two others—a grizzly almost skeletal, old man and a shriveled old woman. They watch Elise from the far side of the hall. Both appear happy to have Elise in their midst. They go to her. Their hands reach out to touch her but are lost in empty air. They smile knowingly to each other. Elise is gone. For now.