Читать книгу Haunting at Remington House - Laura V. Keegan - Страница 35

Helen and Gabe Lindeman studied the young woman as she slept curled in a blanket on the old bed that had once been a servant’s. They smiled at each other, completely delighted. Helen was the first to touch the woman. She thrilled as her hands made contact with the silky hair, as soft and wispy as a child’s. She marveled at the golden color, so like her own had been when she was young. Motioning Gabe to come to her side, Helen whispered, “Gabe, come and feel how smooth her skin is. She can’t be very old either, maybe thirty, don’t you think? Oh, she is lovely. Come dear, see how much she looks like me when I was a girl. Not quite as lovely as I was but lovely nonetheless. Here, feel her soft skin.”

Helen took Gabe’s withered hand, pushing it down to make contact with the sleeping girl’s throat. “Gabe, she’s perfect. I knew someone would come to us. Why, she sleeps so soundly, she doesn’t even know we’re here. Gently, Gabe, touch her lips.” Helen carefully drew Gabe’s forefinger across Elise’s lips. “See, she doesn’t mind. Now, touch her eyelashes. See how silky they feel? Kiss them dear. Softly, don’t wake her yet. Let’s enjoy her for a while, don’t you think?” Helen murmured softly as she caressed Elise’s cheek.

Gabe leaned over the girl, running his tongue slowly over her eyelids and down her nose. “I think you’re right, Helen. She must be the one,” he whispered. “We’ve waited so long for someone to come to us. Our sweet little Elise. We will take such good care of her, won’t we dear?” Gabe ran his fingers delicately down her arm to caress her hand, now clenched into a tight fist. “Let’s leave her now. No need to wake her. We’ll come back later, Helen. She’s tired. Come, we have plans to make.” The two held hands and vanished, leaving behind the acrid odor of decaying flesh.

Elise screamed. Bringing her hands to her face, she felt her eyelids, her cheeks. The air reeked of dead flesh, the putrid odor lingering in the air. Shivering uncontrollably, she sat up and grabbed an old blanket, managing to pull it around her shoulders in one quick motion. Looking around the attic room, she saw no one. But she knew. They had been here again. She felt the oily marks left by their hands on her face and throat, smelled their stink around her. These were the same spirits she encountered a few days ago.

Elise had the distinct impression they belonged to this house. She pulled the blanket tightly around her. They would have to go. She had no intention of sharing this house with them. She would find out who they are and why they were here—then she’d get rid of them. Somehow. And soon. Before they spoiled her plans for Tom.

***

Restless, Elise left her room and quietly crept down the hallway. The last room to her left was filled with boxes from Tom’s Jamestown house. One in particular caught her eye—a box marked “Elise/Personal.” Tearing it open, she was joyous to find some of her old possessions. Funny that Tom kept anything of mine, I’m flattered. And hopeful. Maybe, after all, I’m not forgotten. For an hour she pored over every item in the box. She gathered some clothing, personal items and books of poetry, hauling them laboriously to the room she claimed as her own—a dusty, cramped room, not much more than an oversized closet. She felt safe there. It was too small to be of use to anyone but her. As she carefully folded her clothing and placed it in a small, two-drawer bureau, she hummed happily.

Helen and Gabe found Elise brushing her hair with her gold-plated hairbrush. She was immediately aware of their presence. Frigid air enveloped her. She shivered, dropped her brush.

Gabe picked it up and started brushing Elise’s hair. He smiled at her. In the small vanity mirror, his reflection was faint but powerful. Elise gagged. Gabe’s smell was nauseating. He patted her hair, clumsily drawing the bristles through the tangles.

“Gabe!” Helen said. “Your manners, dear! The poor girl is suffocating.”

Instantly the air changed, and the delicate smell of roses permeated the room. “There, there, dear. How is that?” Gabe asked. “Introduction time. I’m Gabriel Lindeman, and this lovely woman is my sister, Helen.” He continued brushing Elise’s hair, pulling the tangles roughly.

“Elise, we’re pleased to have you here. But perhaps we should clear a few things up for you,” Helen said. “This is our house. Gabe’s and mine. We have lived here for a very long time and plan to go on living here. You must know, if you stay, you will abide by our rules. Do you understand that, dear?” Helen stroked Elise’s shoulder.

“For the most part, we‘ve left you alone the few last weeks. But to be very honest, we feel you are beginning to intrude,” Helen said. “We have our own plans—you’re starting to interfere. Perhaps if you could tell us what you want, we could help you and then you could move on. Or,” she put her hand on her brother’s shoulder, “maybe, you would like to join Gabe and me. We would enjoy that—on our terms of course. It is our home, after all. But we think you could fit in nicely here. With us.”

Furious, Elise flailed her arms at the old ones. Her fists met empty air. The two had vanished as quickly as they had appeared. Once again the room filled with the foul scent of decay. Another subtle reminder they had been there. Elise picked up her cherished gold hairbrush, its finish now dull and discolored. “Well, we’ll see who stays here. And whose rules we live by. I’m not afraid of you shriveled, old ghouls.”

Helen and Gabe heard her of course. “Well, we’ll her give her some time to come around. After all, she needs us, doesn’t she, Gabe? And if she can’t see things our way, well, we’ll deal with her when—if —that time comes.”

The two, tired and somewhat dejected, silently dragging their feet, retreated to a small, dark room at the back end of the hallway. “Time to rest, Gabe.” Helen held her brother’s hand affectionately and closed the door.