Read Angel Manor (Lucifer Falls Book 1) Online

Authors: Chantal Noordeloos

Tags: #horror, #Dark Fantasy, #Suspense, #Action Adventure, #british horror, #Ghosts, #Haunted House

Angel Manor (Lucifer Falls Book 1) (34 page)

“I wish I knew where Oliver was,” she whispered. “This stuff is freaking me out.” He nodded and slid his arm around her chest, pulling her closer.

“I need to seek out the entity that we’ve heard.” Marie-Claire’s voice rang over the recording. “The best way to go about this is if we have a one-on-one communication.”

“We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet,
chérie
. Let’s not be rash.”

“There is an opportunity here and now, so I will investigate it. As I always do.” Her voice was sharp.

“You said this house was different, that we had to be careful, and now you’re running into the unknown without caution.”

“I don’t think this spirit is malevolent, Ruben.”

“Marie-Claire, We don’t know that.”

“Please, don’t argue with me.”

Ruben’s shoulders slumped, and Freya knew Marie-Claire was the more dominant of the two.

“At least take Pierre with you.”

Marie-Claire shook her head. “It works better if I go alone.”

“You wanted to record the phenomena, didn’t you? Then take the
putain
kid with you.” He swore under his breath in French.

“Fine, if that’s what you want.” The older woman’s voice held its sharpness, but her face was gentle. This round was for Ruben, but it was a small victory judging by the man’s sour expression. Pierre grabbed his camera, an eager expression on his face, and then he took hold of Marie-Claire’s hand. They exited the kitchen together, leaving the rest of the company watching the monitors.

Chapter 27

The power of the house was so potent she could see the contours of the building. There was magic running through the very mortar holding the bricks together. Part of it came from spells, Marie-Claire knew. She could feel them, protective spells mostly, but the magic had been corrupted somehow. Yet there was something else here, something so ancient, she didn’t know what she was dealing with, though she planned to find out.

A spirit had reached out to them, had called out a warning, and Marie-Claire wanted to investigate what it all meant. The warning made her a little wary, the equinox was drawing near. In fact, it would be at midnight that very night so time was running short.

Marie-Claire knew from experience that the dead possessed a sense of melodrama, yet at the same time, she wasn’t the kind of woman who would take a warning lightly. It worried her that the spirit had made contact in daylight. That was unusual. Marie-Claire never knew why, but sunlight seemed to have an effect on paranormal activities.

“This is the room where the EVP was recorded.” Darren’s hand was clammy and hot in hers, and she heard nervous enthusiasm vibrate in his voice.

“Is there a place where I can sit?”

“There’s a bed.”

“Bring me to it. Then keep your distance and roll the camera.”

The side of the bed pressed against her knees, and Marie-Claire felt her way down, her hands touching the mattress carefully. She took a deep breath and smelled the scent of the sheets, the wood of the bed, and a hint of cleaning fluid. Darren’s footsteps retreated a few paces, and she heard the clicking of the camera. Her hands rested in her lap, she inhaled deeply and opened her mind. Around her, the room came to life, an otherworldly white canvas interrupted by violet and fuchsia rays of light. She allowed her third eye to roam around the room, to connect with the energy of the house.

“I am here if you wish to speak to me. I am open and willing, and I will listen.” She spoke the words softly, repeating them a second time. She opened her thoughts to let the influences of the house inside.

A spiritual essence hit her with such force that Marie-Claire was pushed all the way across the bed to the headboard. The blankets tangled around her legs, and the impact against the wood made her teeth rattle. She could hear Darren yelp and curse, but she held her hand up to indicate that he should keep his distance. Marie-Claire struggled to get her thoughts together, as it felt as if dozens, perhaps hundreds, of eyes were suddenly upon her.

“I got your attention it seems,” she muttered breathlessly. “Good, maybe now we can talk.”

There were several different emotions pressing upon her psyche. She felt the fear of the spirits in the attic, their child-like minds, young and old at the same time, nudging her gently. At the same time, she felt curiosity from the lost ones, who were now part of the house but still had some sense of individuality left. And she felt the strong, hungry minds of those who resided below. They were the most interested, and they called out to her, taunted her without words. She felt their hunger, their longing. They wanted to harm her, not just kill, but to break her very essence. Marie-Claire battled the fear she felt for them, refusing to let them get the upper hand. There was something parasitic about these ones, and although she had encountered the force before in poltergeists, it was never this strong. There were so many of them, and Marie-Claire experienced a strong urge to flee the house.

“I acknowledge your presence.” Her voice was breathy with exertion. “But I’m here to speak to the woman who talked to us. Can you reveal yourself? I am here to listen.” The medium pushed the different minds away from hers, giving her a bit of breathing space. The hungry minds were particularly difficult to push; they were clinging to her like hooks in the mouths of fish.

“I am here to listen,” Marie-Claire repeated. Something rushed at her, and she was shocked to see a woman dressed in a nun’s habit. Her face was unclear, but she could sense her as a light shadow.

“What’s going on, Marie-Claire? I see a really weird light near you.” Darren’s voice trembled.

“I see it. There is a spirit here with me.”

“You must leave, before it is too late.” The voice was the same from the EVP recording.

“What is your name?”

“I am Sister Agatha. I built this house almost two hundred years ago. I am the only truly free spirit left in Angel Manor.”

“What is it that you want, Sister Agatha?”

“I don’t have much time. The equinox weakens me, while the others grow strong. The living need to be away from the dead before it’s too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“The existing spells won’t hold the Angels when the equinox is here. Even the power of the salt borders will be diminished. It is their time, and they must perform their unspeakable acts. They will not spare the living. They will seek them out the same way they sought out the children. Get them out.”

Marie-Claire felt the spirit weaken; the house was siphoning off its energy.

“We will leave this house as soon as we can. But there are those who are tied to this house who can’t physically leave. And there are spirits here that need to be released.”

“No.” The word was a desperate scream that filled Marie-Claire’s head, and the elderly woman cringed. “You must not free the spirits of Angel Manor. If you do, you will put everyone in danger. Leave this house.” The face came close now, and Marie-Claire could feel the anger within it, the bed bucking as wildly as an angry bull.

“Holy shit, are you guys seeing this?” Darren sounded terrified, and there was loud banging all around. The spirit was manipulating their surroundings, but its strength was running out. Marie-Claire watched the shadows fade as its power drained. Then it disappeared and all was quiet again. The old woman’s heart hammered in her chest, and it took several minutes before she could move or speak again.

“Did you get all that?” Her voice betrayed her fatigue.

“I certainly did. That was insane.”

“Good, let’s go join the others.”

***

Ruben played the video again, and all eyes were on Freya and Logan.

“Yes, there, I can see her clearly. It’s a female figure and she’s dressed as a nun.” Freya looked around the surprised faces. “You can’t see her?”

Ruben shook his head. “I just see light.”

“I can see her too.” Logan frowned and put his fingers on the bridge of his nose, massaging the flesh gently. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you’re connected to the house.” Marie-Claire stood in the door opening, a flustered Darren behind her. “You will be far more sensitive to what this house has to offer than the others are. And, you are right, the woman was wearing a nun’s habit. Her name is Sister Agatha. I’m not sure, but I think she might be a defence mechanism of the house. She really doesn’t want us to release the spirits. What she does want is for us to leave.” The old woman waved her hand, her face was filled with fatigue. “I’ve seen this before at strong supernatural hotspots, spirits trying to protect the area from human activity. They are usually quite harmless, a lot of noise but no real fireworks.”

“Did you see what she did to the doors, or the bed you were sitting on?” Ruben frowned. “She was hardly powerless. Every door in the hallway slammed open and shut, and your bed actually left the ground a few times. You know spirits like that are dangerous.”

“It left her drained. I don’t think she has a lot of power left. She fears the equinox, and I think that might be the perfect time to release the spirits. I might have a plan as to how to go about it. There is powerful magic in the changing of the seasons.”

“The guys will return in a few hours. Will that be a problem?”

“It won’t be convenient, but if they keep out of the way, it should be fine. Things might get a little intense here tonight, though.” It was Ruben who answered the question. “We’ve dealt with onlookers before.”

“If these boys are in any way connected to this house, perhaps it’s for the best that they are around. You said yourself you have bonded with the house. Perhaps they’ve done the same?” Marie-Claire rested her white eyes on Freya, who shook her head, a pang of worry knotting in her stomach.

“I don’t know. I don’t think any of the guys had nose bleeds. I just don’t want them to see anything scary. They don’t know the house is haunted, and I want to keep it that way.”

Logan stepped up next to her. “I agree with Freya. When the guys come back, I’m going to let them collect their stuff. They’re going to stay in a B&B for a few days while you work your mojo. I can’t take a risk with these kids. Freya and I will stay, and I hope we’ll hear from Oliver too, but the rest of my group is getting out of this house.” His words flooded her with a sense of relief, and her hand found his. She wrapped her fingers around his and squeezed, and he responded to the gesture.

“Very well, if you believe that’s best. I don’t mind either way.”

“Good, then we agree.”

“If you don’t mind, we have a lot of things to prepare for the exorcism. We shall start the ritual at sundown. Your presence will be required, Miss Formynder, since you are the blood-link to this house.”

“I’ll be there. I promised the children I would help, and I will.”

***

It was late when the four young men and two counsellors spilled into the house, laughing and chatting. Logan greeted them in the entrance hall.

“You came home late.” He chided with a grin. “Did you guys have a good time?”

“It was awesome.” Terrence smiled brightly, and Logan realised how young the boy looked. “We should have done this earlier. There were these two women—”

Logan held up his hand to stop Terrence from talking. He was too drained to listen to their stories now, too eager to say what needed to be said.

“Listen, guys. There is some stuff going on around here, in the house, and you six need to clear out for a few days.”

“Now?” Jim rubbed his gleaming scalp. “It’s past half-nine, Logan.”

“I really want you to leave as soon as possible.” Logan hoped his friends and colleagues could see that he meant business.

“What’s going on?” Jim took a step forward, cocking his head, his thick beard standing out. “You’re acting very strange.”

“There’s been some stuff… in the house. We’re trying to sort it out.” Logan ran his hand across the back of his neck, and he wished he’d prepared more for this conversation.

“What kind of stuff?” John stepped forward now too, his brow low and furrowed. “What are you on about, mate?”

“I really don’t know how to explain this to you, to be honest, John.”

“Explain what?” John rested a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Let’s talk, you and I.” They stepped away from the curious stares of the others.

“What’s going on, Logan?” John repeated Jim’s question.

“There’s a ghost hunting team here.”

“Ghost hunting?” John laughed loud and deep, then his face turned serious. “You’re not kidding?”

“Nope, there is something going on in this house, and it’s insane.”

“Ghosts? Come on now, Logan. Don’t tell me you’re buying this crap?”

“I saw them, John.” Logan couldn’t look his friend and colleague in the eyes. “We saw some dead kids in the attic, and we saw some sort of ghost nun on the camera just now.”

“Ghost nun?” Jim’s voice was loud and his eyes were round. “Fuck that, I hate nuns.”

“I think it’s best if you and the boys leave.” Logan rested his hand on John’s arm and squeezed lightly. “Maybe just for a little bit, or maybe forever. I don’t know. I suggest you find a bed and breakfast tonight and either stay there for a few days or go back to Edinburgh.”

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