Chapter 16
The beginning of Samantha and Henry's senior year was little more than a week away and they had spent the last few days completing the plans for their investigation of the Cumming's house. It wasn't much but it was enough to provide for one last adventure of the summer, and perhaps, they might record something, be it a sound or a hazy image drifting near a corner. If they could capture just a single sound, something that didn't fit, they could end their summer on the high note of a successful investigation. There might even be the possibility of similar explorations in other houses. But for now, the excitement of going into the Cumming's house with the intention of gathering evidence of unearthly activity was almost more than they could bear. Even if nothing happened, if they left the house without a shred of evidence, the rush of adrenaline would be worth the effort.
The arrival of Saturday evening seemed to take an eternity. Samantha informed her mother of where she was going that night and that she was not only carrying her cell phone, but was also going with Henry. Henry, however, was not nearly as truthful with his parents, and led them to believe he was meeting Samantha downtown for pizza. Unlike Samantha's mother, his parents were far more conservative and would not understand the allure of venturing into an abandoned house, much less looking for ghosts. So to make his lie believable, he asked Samantha to keep their equipment with her, allowing him to avoid leaving his house with a day pack, raising his parent's suspicions. Of course, they would not meet downtown but in the driveway of the library, hidden in the shadows. From there, it was only a matter of crossing the street, and walking behind the house.
Samantha arrived first, and even though Henry expected her to be there, seeing her step out of the darkness startled him into a shudder.
“Jesus Christ!” he said. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Samantha responded in a teasing tone.
“Are you serious? We're going into a haunted house and you're scared by that?”
Henry was clearly embarrassed by his reaction, and became somewhat defensive.
“Can we just go please?”
Samantha let out a quiet giggle as she led him out of the driveway, toward the street. Samantha assumed that since Main Street was busy on any Saturday night, the Sheriff would be close by. Summer nights meant later hours for the bars, and the sheriff routinely made the rounds to be certain that trouble was not brewing.
Having crossed Main Street without the sheriff's presence, Samantha and Henry quietly made their way to the back of the Cumming's house. The air was dark and humid, with the back of the house shielded from the halogen beams of the street lights. Samantha easily found the boarded window she entered on her last visit, and sliding the plywood sheet to one side, climbed in with Henry following close behind. Once inside, Samantha removed the camera from her day pack and handed it to Henry.
“Here,” she whispered. “Take lots of pictures.”
She took out the camcorder, and asked him to set it to night vision. Its pull-out viewer lit up with an eerie green light, displaying anything it was pointed at in startling detail. With the camcorder in one hand, Samantha held the digital recorder out in front of her with the other. But remembering the camcorder also recorded sound, she decided the digital recorder was unnecessary and returned it to her day pack. Appropriately armed, they were now ready to begin their investigation of the Cumming's house.
Their journey through the house had been planned, room by room, starting with the first floor. Samantha became more engrossed with their adventure with every step, but Henry was beginning to panic. His breathing became quickened and labored as his skin broke into a furious rash of sweat. Between the house's cold empty isolation and the heavy blanket of darkness that filled the air, Henry's mind gave way to the inborn fear of the unknown. Samantha's attention was suddenly broken by the thudding sound of Henry's shoulder striking the wall. Fear had rapidly overwhelmed his senses and sent him spiraling into unconsciousness. But as he slid down the wall, Samantha turned and running up to him, caught him moments before landing on the cold floor. Turning her flashlight on, she discovered that he was still conscious and concluded that all he needed was to get the blood back into his head. Remembering a first aid course she had taken in school, she took him by the shoulders and shook him. Given her thin frame, she lacked the physical strength required to carry Henry out of the house, but if she could bring him back to his senses, they might have a chance of leaving without having to call an ambulance.
As hoped for, Henry took a sudden deep breath as his eyes brightened, the color returning to his face.
“Henry,” Samantha began.
Henry's mind was still clouded, but he was quickly recovering and responded with remarkable clarity.
“Come on, we need to get out of here.”
Henry, wanting to prove himself, refused and slowly began to stand.
“No,” he began. “Let's keep going.”
Samantha took him by the arm as he got to his feet. It didn't take much for her to see that Henry was trying to be stoic, and it was pointless to try to get him to leave. But before continuing, he bent down and grabbed his knees, bringing more blood to his head. Once his head stopped spinning, Henry picked up the camera, and taking another deep breath tried to convince Samantha that he was well enough to continue. Of course, she found it difficult to believe, but also realized there was nothing she could do to change his mind.
Picking up where they left off, Samantha and Henry resumed their investigation. Henry was much more collected. But to be sure this episode would not be repeated, Samantha would walk next to him, occasionally glancing at him for any signs of relapse. Henry would later deny that fear had anything to do with his sudden lapse of unconsciousness, concerned that Samantha might see it as a weakness. The last thing he wanted was for her to think of him as a 'pussy', that he could be affected by the most basic of emotions. But any teenaged girl would clearly see it as 'a guy thing'.
Walking slowly, they made their way down the first floor hallway, with Samantha aiming the camcorder and Henry taking pictures. The flash of his camera illuminated the walls, floor, and ceiling, leaving deep shadows where the light would not reach. Every door was quietly opened. Every room carefully scanned. But thus far, there were no results. Samantha spoke out loud, calling for Cora to make an appearance. Hopefully. Even a faint whisper would be better than nothing.
Having walked the length of the first floor, Samantha and Henry arrived at the foot of the staircase. In order to capture as much sound as possible, it was previously decided that there would be a minimum of conversation. As Henry continued taking pictures, Samantha aimed the camcorder up the staircase and studying the viewer, saw nothing unusual. Grabbing the banister, they slowly climbed the stairs. But on their way, Henry turned to look back down the stairs, taking a short series of pictures. They would be reviewed later, but he was convinced he had seen something move from the corner of his eye. At first, he thought it might his imagination, until he heard – or so he believed – the smallest whisper of something undefinable. Stopping on the staircase, he interrupted Samantha.
“Hey, Sam, did you hear that?”
Samantha turned back, still aiming the camcorder up toward the second floor.
“Hear what?” she whispered.
A moment of silence passed as both focused on the deafening soundlessness around them. The absence of sound left an oppressive sensation in their heads, and offered nothing that could be immediately examined.
“I don't hear anything,” Samantha said. “Are you sure?”
Henry was no longer sure he'd heard anything, and turning back towards the second floor, they continued the next step in their investigation.
Reaching the second floor, Samantha again took the lead, confident that Henry would not fall into another fainting spell. She remembered from her previous visit that in a room nearby was a small wooden chair, obviously built for a child. It was one of the few pieces of furniture left in the house, but Samantha noticed something different about it. From her last visit, she remembered it being in the corner, just to the left of the window. However, upon opening the door, she saw that it been moved. It had not been picked up, but slid across the floor. It was evident by the presence of drag marks appearing in the dust that time had deposited throughout the house, and there were no footprints to be seen. She called Henry over to the doorway, asking that he take several pictures of the room, pointing out the details of the chair's position.
“That is fucking weird,” Henry whispered.
Samantha nodded in agreement.
“Yeah,” she began. “But it's so cool.”
They went from one room to the next, stopping at the library. This was of particular interest to Samantha, as it was – according to her research – the place where Cora had taken her own life. The blood and tissue stains that had once run down the bookshelves had long since been washed away, but were still visible. While Henry took more pictures, Samantha stood facing the empty bookcase and raising a hand, stroked a fingertip across its dusty wooden frame, knowing that at some time in the past, in the blink of an eye, its surface ran red with blood as soft chucks of brain matter slid down toward the floor.
As Samantha and Henry stood in the library, both were overtaken by the feeling they were being watched. This was accompanied by a sudden cool breeze that disappeared as quickly as it came.
“Alright,” Henry began. “What the fuck was that?”
Samantha paused to considered the possibilities, knowing that any paranormal investigation relies heavily on logic and an obligation to debunk what others might see as otherworldly.
“It might have come from the tower,” Samantha answered.
The tower was big enough for one person, and with a few small holes in one or two windows, it was unlikely that such a blast of wind could enter through it.
“Maybe we should take a look,” Henry said. “Besides, I really want to check it out.”
Samantha agreed, but according to their plan, the tower was last on the list. Although Henry's curiosity was fast getting the better of him, he decided that the best course was to stick to the plan.
Again, Samantha swept the library with the camcorder as she continued trying to make contact with Cora. There was nothing strange on the viewer, but she knew that some things would make themselves known only upon reviewing the pictures as well as video footage. Leaving the library, they turned right and proceeded down the hallway. As according to the plan, every door was opened, their hinges yawning with horrifying shrieks that both Samantha and Henry found profoundly disturbing. But with their investigation of the second floor nearly complete, they could finally move on to the tower. The book Samantha had read strongly implied that the activity within the house seemed to be centered around the tower. Samantha considered how odd this was, given the fact that it was in the library where Cora had taken her own life.
“Why the tower?” she thought.
Certainly, there was some magnetic force that attracted the ghostly activity she'd seen while quickly walking from the house after last breaking in.
Soon, they found themselves standing at the circular stairway, leading up into the tower. Staring up at the iron spire, Henry asked Samantha about her previous visit.
“So,” he began. “You went up there?”
“Yeah,” Samantha answered. “It looks a little bigger from the outside, doesn't it?”
He grasped the rail of the stairs, and assessed its stability by giving it a quick pull.
“Do think it will hold me?” he asked. “I mean, you're a lot lighter than me.”
Samantha stepped up to the metal stairs and gazed up into the tower, illuminated only be the slowly dying beam of her flashlight.
“Well, it seems solid enough,” she replied. “Just take it slow.”
With Henry taking the flashlight and Samantha aiming the camcorder, he carefully climbed up through the entrance of the tower. Reaching the top, he marveled at the view as the lights of the town steadily glowed, and street lights shown their unbroken beams onto the asphalt and concrete below.
The night was quickly passing, and Samantha, glancing at her watch, reminded Henry of the time. It was ten o' clock. Even for a Saturday night, their parents expected them home at a reasonable hour.
“Shit,” Henry whispered. “I gotta get home.”
He started quickly down the stairs as Samantha tried warn him to slow down, fearing that its bolted anchors may fail and bring the spiral structure crashing to the floor. But Henry was in such a hurry that Samantha's warning escaped him completely, and by the time he stepped foot on the floor, the bolts holding it to the ceiling had torn away. As he quickly walked back in to the hallway, both were struck with terror as the circular stairs leaned to one side, its remaining bolts popped from the floor. For both of them, what likely occurred in a matter of seconds, seemed to pass in slow motion as the iron spiral crashed to the floor.
“Fuck!” Henry yelled. “Come on, let's get out of here!”
As terrified as he was, Samantha managed to remain calm, and continued aiming the camcorder up into the tower. But as Henry began to back away, something appeared on the camcorder's viewer.
On some level, Samantha didn't expect anything significant in the old house, but as she stared at the view finder, a faint diffuse shape crossed the hallway and drifted into a nearby a room.
“Holy shit!” she whispered.
Recorded evidence now spoke far louder than Samantha's sense of logic, but whatever lurked within the house was only beginning to show itself.
“What is it?” Henry asked.
Samantha was wide-eyed was disbelief, not knowing what she'd just seen or if she's seen anything to begin with. Up until this point, these things only happened in books.
“Henry, you're not going to believe this,” she said.
Samantha described the event in as much detail as possible, pointing to where she first saw the blurry form and the doorway it drifted through. Slowly, they moved in small careful steps, trying to avoid making even the slightest sound and arriving at the doorway, Samantha silently directed Henry to push the door open. His mind raced with fear and anticipation as he hesitantly pushed a hand against it. But on the other side, there was only an empty room. Whatever it was that had drifted into the room was gone and Samantha sighed in disappointment while Henry was happy not to have seen anything at all.
As they backed their way out of the room both were startled by the sound of a gunshot. At first, Samantha suspected they had been followed by the man they had encountered in the cemetery, but the air was absent of the smell of gunpowder. Henry turned towards her in a panic.
“We're getting the fuck out of here, right now!” he said.
Henry tightly gripping the camera as Samantha held the camcorder and flashlight, ran ahead of her as they hurried to the staircase. But as they passed the library, Samantha saw something from the corner of her eye, and stepping back to the doorway, aimed the flashlight into the empty room to find a layer of smoky haze hanging in the air.
“Sam,” Henry called. “Where's the light?”
Fearing for his life, he was becoming more panicked by the moment but couldn't make his escape without seeing where he was going.
“I'll be right there,” she replied.
Making sure the camcorder was still running, Samantha set the lens to wide angle and pointed it into the room, recording it for as long as possible.
By this time, Henry had rushed back to her, his panic nearly out of control.
“Sam!” he said. “We gotta go!”
He grabbed her arm as she continued to record and pulled her down the hallway.
“Henry, slow down!” she said.
His senses blinded by fear, Samantha's words escaped him completely. There was only one thing he was focused on and that was leaving as quickly as possible. Just before reaching the top of the staircase, Samantha pulled her arm away.
“Jesus Christ, Henry,” she said. “Will you calm the fuck down?”
Henry was already out of breath and holding the banister as the top of the staircase, he struggled to regain his composure.
“Sam,” he said. “I really need to get the fuck out of here.”
Seeing the state he was in, she tried to console him and with a hand on his shoulder, told him they'd be outside in only a few minutes. She also warned him about running in a house this old.
Carefully but quickly, they reached the first floor and rounded the corner past the sitting room. With Henry running full speed, Samantha had all she could do to keep up. In his urgency to leave, he ran past the room they'd entered though as Samantha called to him several times, and having shown the flashlight into the room, Henry was robbed of the light he needed for his panicked escape and calling to him again, Samantha pointed the flashlight down the hallway, providing him with a dimly lit path back to their escape route. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she continued in her attempt to break through his near catatonic state.
“Henry,” she said. “You gotta calm down, alright?”
She was at a loss for anything else that might get Henry's attention and unfreeze his panicked mind. But fear had not yet completely disabled him, and as Samantha led him to the open window, Henry's instincts pointed the way out, where the night air was beginning to cool.
Upon dropping to the ground, Henry ran the short distance to the street. The lights that lined the asphalt were a welcomed sight and a preferred choice to wandering the darkness of an abandoned house, whose history had made itself obvious. Samantha climbed out, and ran after Henry, who was waiting on the sidewalk. He had bent down and grabbed his knees, forcing the blood back to his head.
“Henry,” she began. “If we're going to do this, we have to stay together. Don't go running off like that.”
Samantha was clearly upset, as well as somewhat disappointed. After all, he had volunteered to go into the house but when it lifted its dark veil, the experience proved to be too much for him to make sense of.