Читать книгу Haunting at Remington House - Laura V. Keegan - Страница 7

For the years following Elise’s death, while Tom mourned and struggled to find peace with her death, Elise remained hidden in the Jamestown house. She was weak and uncertain. Nothing more than a thinly-veiled aura. Then Tom began making plans to leave. The reason for her existence became clear. Tom would not leave her behind. That was not even a possibility.

Elise arrived at Remington House in an old, worn-leather steamer trunk filled with bedding. Nate Adams, Tom’s friend and business assistant, hired a driver to transport some of Tom’s personal belongings to the new house. Thankfully, the trip had been tolerable for Elise—and fast. She arrived several hours before Tom. The driver unloaded the truck, placed everything in the attic. Mary had signed for the delivery. All was done quickly and expediently. Within an hour, the driver was gone.

Wouldn’t Tom be surprised! Elise laughed wickedly, actually producing a slight guttural sound, truly delighting her. Leaving the cold attic, she went down the back stairs, intent on exploring the main floor.

In a small room at the bottom of the back stairs, behind the door to the kitchen, Elise’s elation quickly dissipated. A black mist gathered, hovering in the air over her head. Horrified, she tried to hide as the dark form materialized. It emitted an ominous groan that shook her to her very soul. Elise’s scream was silent; her strength vanquished by her fear.

Dark and oily, the misty thing covered her, petted her as though she were a cat. It caressed her head and back with hands that she could feel but could not see. Bony fingers raked her skin. Recoiling into a corner of the tiny room, she tried to summon her strength. To no avail. She cowered; she didn’t have enough strength to make herself transparent. The dark entity continued to twine its icy mist around her. It’s smothering me. This vile thing is trying to make me surrender to it. It’s trying to steal my soul!

Then incredibly, tears welled up and trickled down her cheeks. Elise gathered courage. Her anger intensified. She had waited too long for revenge, would not give up now. She summoned all her strength. Her will to survive was strong—stronger than the will of the entity. The roiling mist continued caressing her with greasy, sinewy fingers.

Elise screamed—the sound barely audible at first—but building. Louder and louder, piercing the dark night. The repulsive thing retreated and vanished.

I did it. I sent it away! Elise shuddered, then started giggling, nearly hysterical. This was her first encounter with the malevolent beings that dwelled in the dark realm.

Needing to escape the confines of the airless room, Elise slid under the door into the kitchen. She collapsed on the floor, catching her breath. Then Elise laughed. This time her laughter was clearly audible to the other side. The young girl stopped and looked around, visibly startled. Then the lights went out, sending the room into darkness. The girl screamed.

Elise was exhausted. Without looking back at the young woman she had frightened, she retreated to her trunk in the attic. She needed rest. Curled up in a tiny ball in a soft, chenille blanket, Elise smiled. As she drifted off to sleep, her last thoughts were how easily she had overcome the vile thing.

Of course Elise didn’t know—how could she know—that her next encounters with the dark spirits would not prove to be such easy battles. She’d not yet learned the real strength of pure evil.