Chapter Thirteen

Tara sat on the bed, surrounded by the deck of tarot cards. She gathered up the cards and shuffled them again. She dealt three more cards: The Magician, The Fool, and Death.

She had been asking questions of the spirits in the mansion for two days. She glanced at her blank tablet. She wasn’t too worried about the report she was supposed to be writing. She would get with Ben to find out what the investigation found and then write a feature story about it. It wouldn’t take her but a couple of hours to write it. She was more interested in talking to the spirits that haunted the mansion.

The tarot cards were great, but the Ouija board had given her better answers. The problem was that she couldn’t be sure that she wasn’t answering the questions herself, subconsciously. She carefully opened the large book on the bed. It was an ancient grimoire, with directions on how to summon the evil spirits. Tara had found it when she ventured out earlier looking around the fifth floor. It should give Tara the answers she was looking for. She located the spell she wanted.

From the first time she entered the house, Tara could feel that an entity in the house was hungry. She guessed that it fed upon the energy of the living, and that it kept those it liked, if all those stories and rumors of missing people were to be believed.

She arranged her talismans in a pentagram on the floor and lit her candles. As she performed the ritual, according to the directions in the grimoire, she recited the ancient incantation.

The candles glowed a little brighter. “Is there someone here with me?” Tara asked.

“Yes,” Tara heard the answer, but she wasn’t sure if she heard it with her ears or in her head.

“Who are you? What is your name?”

“Ella,” came the response.

“Ella, how did you die?”

“Murder.”

“Tell me what happened to you.”

Silence. Tara waited, but there was no reply from the spirit. She assumed that the spirit had left. She turned to another page in the grimoire and recited a different incantation, this one for summoning a demon.

Tara felt her heart beating faster as the temperature of the room dropped, and a slight breeze blew across her skin. The candles flickered, then blew out completely, plunging the room into darkness.

“Why have you summoned me?” Tara heard the voice whisper.

“Who- who are you?” Tara stammered.

“I am the one who controls this house,” came the reply.

“What spirits are trapped here?” Tara asked.

“There are many spirits who live in this house. I gather them, I control them.” The voice seemed to be louder. She didn’t know if that meant it had come closer or used more power to project its voice. Either option made her uncomfortable.

Tara drew a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Why do you inhabit this place?”

“A door was opened. I have been given free reign over this place.”

“What are you going to do with the spirits who are trapped here?”

“They are mine for eternity. I will do with them as I wish.”

“What will happen to the investigators here with me?”

“You will all die. I will keep you, and control you, like the others.” The wind blew, causing a chill down Tara’s spine, then the room warmed again. The candles re-lit on their own. The demon had left.

Tara sat on the bed, contemplating what she had learned. A malevolent spirit was killing people and controlling their spirits, preventing them from moving on. It was collecting them, feeding off of their energy. Tara needed to tell Ben.

She picked up all of her candles and talismans, stowing them in her bag. She would need to make a quick getaway, and she wasn’t going to wait around for the others. She would warn them, but she wasn’t going to wait for them. She was getting out of there.

Tara slung the heavy backpack across her shoulders and exited the room, leaving it exactly as she had found it, the grimoire tucked into her backpack. She opened the door to room 501 and saw Cameron sleeping in the bed. Ben was not in the room. She decided to leave Cameron there. Ben could tell him to get out.

But where was Ben? Tara looked around the fifth-floor hallway and, seeing no one, descended the stairs to the fourth floor. She looked out over the balcony. No sign of Ben.

A painting fell from the wall, only a foot or two away from her. Tara gasped and gripped her chest, feeling her heart race like a frightened rabbit’s. The demon was after her. She started to run.

Just as she reached the next section of the staircase, she felt a pair of hands pushing her. She lost her balance and toppled over the banister, falling to the first floor below.

Tara heard the sharp crack of bones breaking, just before she felt the blinding pain. She saw multi-colored spots in front of her eyes and realized that she had hit her head on the marble floor.

She tried to scream, but no sound would come out. She felt something grab her by the leg she had broken in the fall, and it started dragging her. She looked down at her feet, but nothing was there. Her leg, with the ankle twisted at an unnatural angle, was hanging in the air on its own. And something was pulling her across the marble floor.

Tara flailed with her arms, trying desperately to grab onto something, anything, to stop this entity from dragging her away. She was not successful. She felt another sharp surge of pain from her broken leg, and then, she felt herself becoming weaker and weaker. She wanted to fight, to escape, but she didn’t have the strength. A heavy veil of darkness was looming over her consciousness.

Tara kicked with her good leg, attempting to fight off her attacker with the last remaining strength she had. The kick met only empty air. Tara had no more strength left as the darkness settled, and everything went black for the last time.