ANGRY SPIRIT PART 3 Chapter 5

"You’ve used me from day one!" Nathan yelled venomously. "You’ve played me for a complete idiot all along … Oh you’re good, Miranda, I’ll give you that much". Nathan laughed. "I bet that’s not even your name … just another lie, like everything else about you!"
"I’m sorry, Nathan. I had to deceive you. You would never have come here if I had told you the truth. I’m so sorry…"
"Sorry… Sorry! Do me a favour! You don’t know the meaning of the word sorry. Geez! How could I be so stupid; so damn gullible?"

"This doesn’t change anything Nathan. Yes, I lied to you, but for good reasons, that doesn’t change why we had to come here, and it certainly doesn’t change what we have to do."
Angry words, thoughts and blurry images blazed furiously inside his head. His muscles tensed from the myriad of confused messages that erupted from his brain in waves of paralyzing rage.
"Please Nathan you have to understand why I did this." Miranda pleaded, tearfully. "We have to see this through… We have to close the portal tonight. If that portal is left open it won’t just be our lives that are devastated, possibly the entire world will be destroyed by an evil that we won’t be able to fight. We have to end it tonight, Nathan. Believe me, we have no choice!"

For a brief moment Miranda’s words only enraged him beyond endurance. Robbed of speech and angered almost to the point of unconsciousness, Nathan smashed his clenched fist onto the polished table top with such a force, the plates and other fine crockery launched high in the air, before smashing back down with deafening consequence showering the room in brightly patterned shards of pot.
"Believe you! Why the heck should I believe you? Why should I believe anyone in this nut-house?"
"You have every right to be angry…"
"Darn right I do!"
"You’ve seen what Joshua Edwards is capable of. Imagine the consequences if he is allowed to enter this world through the portal with his army of desperate lost souls who will stop at nothing to following his every evil whim. Every man, woman and child will be left to his mercy if we don’t at least try to stop him. Could you live with that on your conscience?"

Miranda’s last statement was enough to dispel the initial rage that had understandably engulfed Nathan. One thing was painfully clear, he could not live with his conscience if he allowed the evil that had invaded his dreams to manifest and run amuck in the real world.
"Ok, so what do we do now?" The words fell from his lips awkwardly, emerging in a begrudging mumble, though instinct clearly insisted he had no choice.
"We must all put our personal opinions aside," said a voice, from the doorway. Nathan turned quickly to see Lady Alice standing just inside the room. He had no idea how long she had been there, but judging by calm way she spoke, and the impression of showing no outward signs of intimidation or suspicion, it was clear that she had been present long enough to overhear his previous outburst.

"There is no time for explanations, Nathan. We must prepare for what lays ahead," Lady Alice continued. "We must all follow Aleister’s instructions to the letter if we are to stand any chance of surviving, let alone succeeding."
From his one and only brief meeting with Aleister Howard Dewhurst, Nathan had instantly formed a dislike and a consuming distrust of the man. To hear that his very survival depended on him, seemed as wise as placing his head in the mouth of a hungry lion while someone else pulled its tail, and this worried him greatly!
"Need I remind you all that we are loosing valuable time?" Dewhurst’s irate voice boomed from the foot of the main staircase.
Finally dismissing the last vestiges of reluctance Nathan followed the steps of his two companions towards the doorway, resigned to the fact that he would do what he had to do.

By the time the three of them reached the staircase, Dewhurst had already ascended to the centre landing and was looking down at them with the emotionless stare that had etched onto Nathan’s memory from their first introduction at the breakfast table.
"Get a move on!" Dewhurst urged. "We’ve wasted enough time already!"
"Alright, alright … keep your shirt on," Nathan mumbled under his breath and was somewhat surprised when Dewhurst responded to his comment despite the distance that lay between them;
"Mr. Harrison, I find your cavalier attitude rather tiresome. Do I have to emphasize yet again the gravity of what we are about to attempt? If you cannot overcome your fears and accept the situation, I strongly urge you to back down now, before you jeopardize the safety of us all."

"Give it a rest, Dewhurst. Let’s just do what we have to do." On that belligerent note Nathan took to the stairs, clearing two at a time with each hasty leap.
When the group had assembled on the landing, it was Lady Alice who took the lead, and retreated quickly down the corridor, branching off to the left.
"I think it’s time we introduced Nathan to dear Max, Don’t you?" her Ladyship announced when she drew level with a rather unusual door. Unusual, because, unlike the other six or so doors that flanked the corridor at equidistant intervals, this one was double in its construction. Its frame showed obvious signs of recent modification.

Nathan watched on as she unlocked the doors and pushed them open wide to reveal a hospital style bed. On it was the prone figure of a man.
After witnessing Miranda’s tearful reaction, it didn’t take long for Nathan to realize that the unfortunate man on the bed, linked to a complicated mass of wires, tubes and monitors, could be none other than Max Deacon.
"He’s been in a permanent comatose state since the séance over twelve months ago," Lady Alice announced, for once her face showing signs of genuine sadness. "I wanted you to see poor Max before we proceed to the séance room to begin our preparations. Once we get in there, there is no turning back. You need to be sure, Nathan."

Her Ladyship’s sudden display of compassion ignited a burning suspicion within Nathan, also the fact that Miranda had remained silent throughout added to his overwhelming sense of uneasiness.
"I’m sure. Alright!" he finally exclaimed, turning towards the door, hoping his vane effort to appear confident would fool the others.
When all three of them had emerged from the room, and Lady Alice had locked the door, Dewhurst was standing, somewhat impatiently outside the séance room. If ever Nathan was to have second thoughts of allowing himself to be led in this crazy venture, it was surely now, as he stared down the dimly lit corridor at the tall menacing figure that stood before him. His face as usual gave no clues as to his thoughts. Was he nervous? Was he confident? Dewhurst was a master of presenting an emotionless façade, leaving those in his presence totally ignorant of his intentions good or bad.

The first thing that hit Nathan when he entered the séance room was an over powering smell of incense. The air was thick with its sweet, sickening odour. For the briefest of moments it caused him to stop, frozen by sudden intense nausea. A condition that he quickly noted, did not affect the others.
The sound of the bolt striking home when Dewhurst locked the door, echoed around the sparsely furnished room. The one an only route of escape had effectively been sealed.
In the centre of the room a circular heavy wooden table had been precisely located. Its four foot diameter, along with the four matching wooden chairs dominated the area.
Nathan swallowed a nervous lump in his throat when he inspected the large board in the centre of the table, adorned with each letter of the alphabet, clearly on its upper surface. Around its four edges the words YES / NO sat proud and menacing; circled by graphic illustrations of ancient symbols, indicating clearly the Ouija boards mysterious and long held tradition of predominant evilness.

The all important planchette had been placed carefully in a neutral position some inches clear of the board.
"Let us all be seated and join our energies by the joining of hands," Dewhurst began, his voice suddenly taking on a booming quality that resonated through the incense laden air, its pitch and tone sending a clear message that he alone would lead the proceedings.
One by one each member of the gathering took the hand of their neighbour in a nervous grasp. Miranda sat on Nathan’s left-hand side; her small, delicate palm nestled against his, while her slender fingers fell short of encompassing his larger hand and failed to make a sturdy grip. She turned and smiled at Nathan, the strength of his masculine grip gave her an obvious air of added confidence and security when she certainly needed it the most. Although a well practiced psychic medium, well used to the unexpected events that were likely to manifest during such a gathering, She was fully aware that what was about to follow would not be akin to any séance she had witnessed before and the possible consequences, of which she had no control terrified her.

Nathan’s right hand was captured in the vice-like grip of Dewhurst’s massive hand. It became clear from that initial contact that any opportunity to abandon the proceedings had passed. For the briefest of moments his nervousness gave way to the ravages of panic.
Whatever was to follow, fate had decreed him a reluctant and helpless witness. For the first time in his life, Nathan Harrison now prayed to God to give him faith, and keep his sanity safe from the grips of Hell and the torments it was about unleash upon him.
The faces of his two female companions, stared back at him through fear-filled eyes. Their lips trembled as they too hurried out the inaudible words of desperate prayers for protection. ‘If there is a god, he’s going to be busy tonight!’

Dewhurst sat silent, his white bearded chin resting on his chest as he stared with an expressionless glare at the Ouija board before him on the table.
For a few seconds no one spoke. For no one dare. The dominant force that was Aleister Howard Dewhurst had proclaimed his position as master of proceedings, a role he clearly relished with alarming acceptance.
Nathan cast an anxious glance around the dimly lit room, inspecting the dense shadows that encroached with rapidly increasing dimensions, as if to rob the sitters’ surroundings from their inquisitive eyes.
Voices began to fill his head, dozens of distant voices, yet not one that could be singled out and understood. The discarnate mumblings slowly increased in volume, suggesting the imminent approach of an army of wandering spirits summoned by whatever mysterious force beckoned to hold them in council at the séance table.
A quick inspection of his companions revealed only expressionless faces, each one confirming that all those present were being gradually lured towards their own state of trance, entering the transition between the world of painful reality, and the next world where mystery knew no bounds and the powers of reason had no place.