The Haunting (8 page)

“Looks that way,” Read agreed.

“So,” I said, clasping my hands together, “we have to find Victor.”

Read stared at me, dumbfounded. “What?”

“When he dies, the monster does too.” I glanced at Cody to see his eyes wide with hope. “I mean, it makes sense. Doesn’t it? It walked off into the Arctic, probably to die, and maybe Victor can help us find it.”

Phoebe nodded at me with a smirk. “Okay, let’s go see what we can find.”

Phoebe and I stood up together. Read was slower. Claire and Joel helped each other to their feet, whispering softly to each other. Looking back, I saw Cody striding down the hallway. I tried my best to keep up with him. Cody rounded the corner and staggered back with a yell. His face reddened with fury as he ran back and kicked at something solid.

Hurrying to see, I came around the corner to see a solid stone wall. “This wasn’t here before,” I said. It was where Robin, Cody, and Read had thrown the cloak on Phoebe. Cody glared at me as if it were obvious, shutting me up. He nearly bowled me over to stalk past me and back down the hallway, past the niche and to the opposite corner. The sound of the thunder and patter of rain on the warbled windows was the only sound as we watched him, following at a safe distance.

Joel and Claire stopped near the creepy doll on the bench. Claire stared at it, hands clasped close to her chest in apprehension.

Cody rounded the corner, out of sight.

I could hear the raging shouts and curses echo. It must have been blocked. I realized that Neive’s cloak had been left down there, and now it was lost.

“Everything’s blocked. What about Robin’s door?” I whispered to Read.

Without further explanation, we both brushed past Joel and Claire toward the niche. The door leading to the library that Phoebe had woken up in was gone, replaced by a solid wall.

Cody caught up with us. “We shouldn’t have stopped,” he snapped. “We should have tried to break that door down while it was still there.”

“We couldn’t have gotten in!” Joel argued from behind us.

Cody’s shoulders hunched.

Joel’s voice carried to us again. “If we weren’t supposed to get in, that demon-thing would stop us. Robin might be dead already anyway.”

I raised my hands to catch Cody’s arm as he burst past Read and me. His foreign rage made him look different.

“Cody, don’t!” Phoebe warned, stepping up behind him, but like us, she couldn’t catch him.

It was too late, and Claire became aware of what was happening only at the last second. Cody’s shoulder bumped into her, throwing her off balance. She fell onto the bench beside the doll, struggling to sit up. Cody threw a punch at Joel’s face, fury boiling over at last.

The fight was on.

Phoebe bellowed, the sound of her voice dwarfing the sound of the first smacking punch. “Stop it!”

Joel took the first hit, his head snapping, stunned. It didn’t take long for him to recover as Cody brought his arm back, moving his body with the next punch. Joel swatted Cody’s wrist away as if it were an annoying fly. Then with a stone-hard fist, he caught Cody in the stomach. The wheezing gasp that erupted from my friend was tragic.

I wanted to run between them but wasn’t sure if it would stop them from swinging. I’d probably end up with a black eye for my troubles.

Phoebe was shouting, swatting at the two of them, but was careful not to leap within the fray. Joel grabbed chunks of Cody’s spiked, icy blonde hair and jerked his knee up, catching Cody in the face.

“Get away from him, Joel!” Phoebe shouted before diving in.

Blood gushed from Cody’s face, splattering the floor when Phoebe rammed her shoulder into Joel. To my relief, Joel let Cody go when he was thrown off balance. He landed on the bench and on top of the doll.

Cody backed away, nearing Read and me. He was still doubled over, his hands over his face and leaking crimson.

“Was that really necessary?” I heard Phoebe demand as I touched Cody’s bare, raw shoulder.

He shouldn’t have gone after one of fullbacks of the college football team.

Cody lifted his head, bloody rivers coating his mouth and chin. He sputtered and wiped at the blood.

“Tilt your head back,” Read offered.

Cody did as he was told, too dazed to argue.

When Phoebe was through giving Joel a shouting match, she stomped towards Cody. “Is it broken?” she snarled, empathy drained completely. She started to reach out for his nose.

Cody flinched away. “I’ll be fine.” He sounded nasally, like he had a cold. The blood was splattering his chest and jeans.

Infuriated, Phoebe said, “I can’t believe this. We can’t be fighting like this. What were you thinking?”

I stepped past them, between the two groups: Cody, Phoebe, and Read, then Joel and Claire.

“Joel,” I heard Claire hiss.

He scrambled from the bench. The doll must have snagged his clothes somehow. As he stood, the doll dragged itself off of the bench and crashed to the floor. The shattering sound ceased Phoebe’s rant and Read’s suggestions short. We all stared at the doll.

“What did you do?!” Claire shrieked, making me jump.

She was on her hands and knees beside the creepy doll. Her hands wavered over it as if she were about to preform a magic trick.

“It fell!” Joel snapped defensively.

“I saw it! And you just let it fall!” Claire squealed in a high-pitched voice that grated my nerves. Hurrying to her side, I peered down at the doll. Half of its face had shattered, leaving one open blue glass eye through the matted dark hair.

“Saw what, Claire?”

“A ring,” she answered through a sob. “I saw it in her mouth, and now she swallowed it.”

“She…” I stared down at the four-foot tall doll, then to Claire in horror. “It moved?” Or did she just think it moved? Claire had been missing the longest, besides Aidan. I studied her as she covered her face with her hands and peered through her fingers at the doll’s torso.

Leaning over, we stared in silence at the broken doll on the floor.

I gasped, leaping back first when the white fabric of her dress began to writhe.

“What the hell is that?” Phoebe snapped, more angry than scared.

No one moved.

“Maybe it’s a clue,” Cody suggested, “about getting Victor Frankenstein.”

The doll’s stomach wriggled and twisted slowly, methodically, against her pink dress.

It was Claire who reached with a trembling hand and grabbed the hem of the dress. She pulled it up in one desperate jerk. The doll convulsed as the dress was pulled up to her chest.

We all drew back in an uproar.

Her porcelain stomach must’ve cracked open in the fall. Unfortunately, her insides weren’t hollow; they swelled with worms and white maggots.

Claire danced away, shaking her arms and legs as if electrocuted. “Oh gross!” she squealed. “
Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew
.”

Clenching my hands together close to my throat and tugging at the collar of my shirt, I stared down at the recoiling insides. “You said the doll swallowed the ring?” I asked.

Claire shuddered and glared at me. “I’m
not
reaching in there.”

“Then I guess it’s someone else’s ring,” Read said, staring back down at the doll.

“No,” Claire argued, stepping up with us, careful not to look down at the mess near our feet. “You can’t have it!”

Read raised his eyebrows at her. “If you’re not going to get it out, then it’s anyone’s game. I’m not putting my hand in there for you.”

Claire shifted on her feet, glancing wearily at the squirming insides before looking to Joel.

He met her gaze and scowled. “Are you serious?”

“Why not?” She blinked with genuine inquisitiveness.

He gazed at her as if she baffled him. “You’re out of your damn mind. That’s disgusting.”

“And you’re a boy,” Claire said. “I can’t put my hand in there!”

Read sighed loudly and dropped to one knee beside the doll. He rubbed his hands together, readying himself to dive into the mess.

“No, no,” Joel growled and made to push Read out of the way if Read hadn’t already stood. “I’ll do it,” he announced and dropped to one knee as Read had. He took a deep breath and glanced down at his thumb-less hand. The crude bandage hadn’t bled through. Joel’s brown eyes snapped back up towards Claire. Her face slackened, enlarging her eyes in mock innocence. He fell for it.

Considering Joel was such a jerk, I found it ironic that this girl had so much control over him. She was gorgeous, but Joel—at least in my experience—was primarily self-serving.

Read stepped in beside me and crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed with the chivalry.

Wiggling the fingers of his good hand, Joel plunged it within the core of the doll. I restrained my gag reflex. With each twist of his wrist or twitch of his fingers, I heard a wet, squishing sound. The overflowing parasites tumbled over the doll’s sides. Joel’s face was twisted in disgust as he rooted around the doll’s insides with his good hand. “Are you sure you saw something?” he asked, eyes blazing.

“Yes,” Claire said, her voice cracking. “I know I saw something. It glittered in the light.”

“But,” Phoebe said, “you didn’t see a ring exactly?”

Claire hesitated before shrugging. “Not
exactly
. But what else could it be?”

“A blade, maybe?” Phoebe pouted her bottom lip, throwing the question at Claire as if she were a simpleton. “Maybe the doll did swallow it and now it’s in there to cut off Joel’s other thumb.”

Joel paled considerably. Claire flashed a barbarous glare at Phoebe as Joel jerked his hand free, trying to shake the clinging maggots.

“No, Joel. I swear it was a ring,” Claire pleaded. “Just look one more time. I’m positive it wasn’t a blade.”

“Really?” Phoebe asked.

Claire stomped her foot. “Shut
up
, will you?”

Joel rolled his eyes but plunged his hand back into the doll’s body. This time, his face froze. My heart stopped the instant I saw his hardened expression slack.
He cut himself
, was my first thought.
Phoebe was right. It wasn’t a ring.
But Joel didn’t shout or flinch in pain. Instead, he pulled a silver ring from the debris.

Claire gasped sharply. “I told you!” she shouted in Phoebe’s face.

To Phoebe’s credit, she didn’t fling any rotten remarks.

Joel wiped the object off on his jeans, standing.

“Okay, hand it over,” Claire said excitedly.

Joel stared at the little ring for a long moment before putting it on the tip of his finger. Claire breathed in deep, ready to shriek. If it wasn’t for Cody’s hiss to startle her, she might have. The ring didn’t appear small, but the second it touched Joel’s finger, it wouldn’t slide past his first knuckle—the first knuckle on his pinky finger.

“What the hell.” Joel frowned and plucked it from his finger. “It’s not that small.”

He was right. Pinched between his thumb and forefinger, it looked big enough to fit any adult finger.

“Because it’s mine,” Claire insisted and held out her hand.

Joel grunted a response, and with no other option, he dropped it into the outstretched palm.

Claire put the ring on her ring finger. It fit perfectly.

“Hm,” Read said. “I wonder if each ring is meant for someone specific.”

“Yes,” Claire said, “I saw it first. That’s why it’s mine.”

Phoebe shrugged. “As absolutely childish and ridiculous as that sounds, she might be right.”

Claire scowled but didn’t look up from her hand.

“Now what?” Cody asked, eyes bright.

“The door was still there,” Phoebe said, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jean-shorts.

“But Victor—” Cody started to argue.

I interrupted him this time. “Is probably in another Challenge.”

Cody didn’t seem convinced.

I motioned to the tall windows and stone hallways. “Our first Challenge was a ghost room. Then Frankenstein. I don’t know about you guys, but I woke up in a crypt. There appears to be a theme going on here.”

Phoebe nodded. “Horror movies, books, Halloween-related stuff—that seems to be what Damien has in mind for this one.”

Cody shuffled his feet before breathing out gloomily. “Alright,” he said after a long pause.

Read took lead this time, Phoebe close behind him. We rounded the only corner, and the door waited for us.

“Next stop,” Cody grumbled and shouldered between Phoebe and Read.

Grasping the doorknob, he didn’t bother checking the rest of us over his shoulder before opening the door.

We faced a forest. It was relatively dark. A full moon hovered in the sky, dappling the ground through the tall spruce and birch trees. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that the door had vanished, not that I expected anything less. We stood in the middle of a narrow dirt path that wound its way through the thick trees.

Phoebe took the lead with Read close behind. Then it was Cody and me in the middle and Joel and Claire at the back.

The path was only wide enough to fit one person at a time. Two side by side would mean someone would have to walk in the thigh-high grass. I didn’t want to risk a rodent with sharp teeth. I’d rather be able to see something if it decided to bite my ankles.

Silently, we trailed the path until we reached a sharp incline in the earth.

Phoebe paused at the top of the hill. Read and Cody bashed up against her to see, leaving the rest of us to our imaginations.

“What is it?” Joel hissed behind me.

Phoebe waved a hand for silence. Turning, she risked treading in the tall grass to face us as she whispered, “It’s a village.”

“An old village,” Cody added, wiping some of the semi-dried blood from his tender nose.

“Well, it looks new,” Read countered.

Claire rolled her eyes. “What does
that
mean?”

Phoebe pointed to the hilltop. “Go look, but don’t draw attention to yourself. There are people.”

Joel pushed past me with Claire in tow.

Cody whispered to Read, “Did Victor live in a village?”

Read shook his head. “I don’t think so. But I think he lived near a town close to Geneva.”

As I stepped up to see the view, I noticed Cody’s eyes widen with hope.

Could Robin be waiting near here?

The buildings were freshly painted, and the streets were clean and unpolluted with any litter. No pavement, only dirt. It looked like it could have lived in 1800 the way the buildings were styled. I couldn’t be certain, though. Most of the buildings had shutters and wooden shingles, some with overgrown moss. Most were brick, though a few were made with wooden planks. It was surreal, like stepping into one of those era towns with actors and time-period props.

The frightening part was it wasn’t empty. It was as though no one slept. The streets bustled with bodies and an energy usually reserved for the daytime. Men scurried around in regular shirts, suspenders, and dark pants, and some stood beside their horse-drawn buggies. A few men had almost a military look to them. The women had up-swept hair or wore bonnets of all shapes and sizes—though I couldn’t imagine why; it was dark out, after all. They also sported dresses with high waists of all patterns and colors.

No one had noticed us strangers standing just within the shadows. Probably a good thing.

Hurrying down to meet my friends again, I realized I was tugging my shirt and stopped.

Cody was speaking. “There is a chance, though. I mean, he could be here. Why bring us to some old town?”

Phoebe cast Cody a sympathetic smile. “I don’t know. We have to be careful either way. What if these villagers hate Victor? They did revolt in the movie, remember?”

“I don’t feel like running from a mob,” Read said.

“Then,” I said softly, “let’s not throw his name out right away. If these people are friendly, they’ll let us know. Then maybe we can ask about him, but if they’re not friendly…”

“Yeah.” Phoebe nodded. “But if they’re not, then what?”

“Maybe we should walk around them,” Claire suggested, “scout out the place first.”

“And risk getting caught?” Cody argued. “If they catch us sneaking around, I promise you they won’t be friendly at first. We’ll just have to risk it.”

“You mean
you
will have to risk it.” Joel pointed at Cody’s chest.

Phoebe held up her hands. “No, no. If we do this, we go in together.”

“What about both?” Claire asked. “Some of us could hide in the trees while others go ask. If something goes wrong, at least there are a few of us who can save you.”

Phoebe appeared startled. “That’s a really good idea actually. Except…”

Claire frowned pointedly.

“Except we can’t split up.” Phoebe crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips.

I nodded vehemently. “No splitting up. If we go in, we go in together. If we scout around, we do it together. We can’t be losing anyone else.”

We stared at each other, trying to decide what to do.

“Well,” Read spoke up at last, “whatever we have to face is likely in that village. Scouting around won’t do us much good. If we want to get this over with and hopefully find another ring, I think we should go into the village.”

Cody bumped Read’s shoulder with his fist in approval.

“Let’s vote,” I suggested. “All in favor of going into town, raise your hand.”

Cody, Read, and Phoebe raised their hands.

“Opposed?”

Joel and Claire raised their hands.

“Aren’t you going to vote?” Joel asked in a hiss.

“I’m for the village,” I said, meeting his glare without flinching. I gave myself an imaginary pat on the back for that one.

Cody led the way up the steep little hill this time. Phoebe didn’t try to wriggle ahead on the narrow path; she stayed between Cody and Read. Her dark green eyes peered over her shoulder at me. There was fear in them.

I had a tiny hope that we wouldn’t find anything terrible, but these hopes were dwindling.

As we clustered together in the clearing on the edge of town, a woman finally looked up and gasped loud enough to stop the hustle. A wagon creaked as a man pulled his horse to a stop to stare at us. The woman who had gasped couldn’t have been much older than us. She had stunning blue eyes and tanned skin and brown hair pulled up in ringlets. She cooed, “You…poor children.”

Since there was no sound from the entire village, it was easy to hear her.

“Poor children?” Phoebe asked in a whisper.

I shook my head and reached out to tug at Phoebe’s shorts. “We don’t exactly look like we belong.”

Phoebe in her short blue-jean shorts and tube top. Read in his ripped shirt and jeans. Cody without a shirt and blood smeared on his face, chest, and jeans. Then there was Joel, who held a bloody rag around his finger. Claire in her slender dirtied jeans and tight-forming t-shirt. Then there was me in my penguin pajama shorts, T-shirt, and socks. Oh yes, we were quite the sight.

The man on the buggy had to be in his forties. He leapt out of his seat and scrambled to another man with a dark, bushy beard. The rest of the men migrated toward the conversation, their eyes flickering between us and the older gentleman with the beard.

“This can’t be good,” Cody said, goosebumps prickling up his arms and chest.

I agreed with him.

“Told you we should’ve scouted it out,” Joel said.

“And let them find us? That’s a great first impression,” Phoebe said. “If they’re nice, they’ll show us right away.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel waved it off. “This isn’t a town near Leland, you know.”

Sneaking a peek at the villagers, our anxiety settled back into place, and we fell awkwardly quiet.

“I think we should just start walking,” Cody whispered to us, his eyes intent. “If we ask around, maybe we can locate Victor Frankenstein.”

Phoebe stepped forward, hesitated, and glanced back to me. “What do you think?” she asked.

I nodded, not feeling confident. “Okay.”

Joel was left sputtering; I could only assume that he protested the idea.

Cody started to approach the closest individual, a girl no older than sixteen. She immediately recoiled when she saw him.

Phoebe stepped in front of him. “Scare the girl to death, will you? You’re half naked.”

Cody crossed his arms over his bare chest, blushing in the moonlight.

Phoebe edged towards the girl, holding up her hands as a sign of peace. “I just want to ask a few questions.”

The girl’s eyes shifted between our faces uneasily.

“We were wondering if you knew a man named Victor Frankenstein?” Phoebe asked.

The girl bit her lips together, eyes shifting to the grouped men. They were still submersed in their conversation.

“Please,” Phoebe implored.

A woman approached, grabbing the girl’s arm and pulling her back with them. The women were beginning to draw back into the houses. This wasn’t good.

“Excuse me!” I startled not only the group of men but my group as well.

The eldest man looked up, his spiky eyebrows furrowing and his eyes grim.

“We’re looking for someone. Just one question. Then we’ll leave you alone. I promise,” I said to him, anxious to avoid problems.

The man held my gaze until I looked away, much to my chagrin. He a stern look that reminded me of my dad.

He stood amongst the men, hands on his hips, and eyed us all up as if we were a bunch of criminals. “What question?” he said at last.

Cody asked this time. “Do you know where we might find Victor Frankenstein?”

The man paused, eyes never wavering. “Yes,” he answered at last.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cody breathe.

“Where?” Phoebe asked.

The man scowled at Phoebe then at me. “Do you let these women take charge?” he asked Cody. “Are you not a man?”

Phoebe’s face turned scarlet. I grabbed her arm to warn her. We couldn’t make a scene, not here, not with these people. Apparently, my warning wasn’t good enough.

“Want to see my fist take charge of your face?” she snapped, stepping forward.

Immediately, all the men except the eldest stepped back. One whispered, “Bitch.” I was surprised I could hear it over the din of voices that protested Phoebe’s claim. The old man nodded to the whisperer behind him.

“Did he just…?” I began.

“We’ll take you to him if it means you won’t come back,” the eldest man said sternly.

Phoebe nodded vigorously. “You bet.”

The man motioned for us to follow.

As we walked through the village, everyone that we passed gave us the third degree. The women closed the shutters or curtains as we passed. The bustling streets were swiftly subdued and quiet.

Finally, we reached the outskirts of the town and saw the tree-less graveyard. Tall tombstones that varied in size spanned the edge of town. Stabbed in the middle was a lanky, straw-stuffed scarecrow. His arms were hanging lifeless at the elbows. Nails had been lodged into the arms and throat of the scarecrow to keep him upright. The pole it draped on was crudely shaped like a Christian cross.

“Why would Damien put a scarecrow in a cemetery?” Phoebe asked.

Read shrugged. “A pesky crow problem?”

I shook my head. “Better question. Why crucify it?”

Phoebe and Cody gave me a funny look. I ignored their confusion and stopped on the edge of the grass. No fences housed the cemetery here.

“He’s in there. Past the scarecrow. Don’t come back.” The man turned to face us as he spoke. His eyes darkened as he repeated, “Don’t—come—back.”

Phoebe smiled bitingly. “Oh, we got it.” With a final gloating gesture, she waved the man off. “Guess it’s time for you to leave.”

He gave Phoebe one last stern look before turning and heading back into the village. He ducked into one of the houses on the empty street, never looking back.

Read spoke first. “Okay, but remember, nobody can split up here. We’re in here together.”

We all nodded in agreement, except for Joel.

“Do we just walk in?” Cody asked.

A heavy fog hid half the cemetery, higher and thicker than what had appeared in the first cemetery I’d walked into. It reached as high as the sky, nearly smothering the moon.

Claire whimpered behind me. “This isn’t good,” she said.

“Okay, let’s go,” Phoebe said and motioned for us to follow her.

We followed in our tight little group. Not a single person dared to be out of arm’s reach of one another.

“Should we call his name?” Cody asked.

Joel snorted. “That’s right. Let’s draw attention to ourselves.”

I grimaced and tilted my head back to look up at Cody. “I hate to agree with him, but let’s stay quiet for now. We don’t know what could be out here.”

Cody leaned closer to me to whisper, not that it could conceal our conversation from the others. “If Damien kept your sister for this long, maybe he doesn’t mean to kill Robin.”

“Cooper never made it.” Joel’s eyes were steely. “He’s dead. If this bastard wants to kill your girlfriend, he will.”

Cody grit his teeth but didn’t say anything further.

Filled with an awful silence, I tried to count how many tombstones I could see before the thickening fog blurred them into shadows. I counted twelve rows. It was nice to be able to avoid the thought of Neive.

A sharp peel of laughter squealed in my ears. The sound threw itself around us as if bouncing from surround-sound speakers. We stopped dead in our tracks. My hair bristled, and I expected something to come flying out of the fog. Instead, everything went quiet.