The Derelict House - Part Two

"I don’t like this room!" Emily whispered, edging back, away from the dress. She continued to back away, until, her legs pressed against the foot of the bed. "I don’t like this room. Something terrible happened in here."

"What did I tell you?" Josh quipped. "I bet somebody got murdered in here!"

"Will you pack it in?" Carol moved to comfort Emily who by now was stood visibly trembling, the color drained from her cheeks.

"Emily! Are you alright?"

A strange feeling of genuine fear engulfed everyone, as the young girl remained rigid, almost trance-like.
Even the boys felt more than a little uneasy when she lowered her chin, to rest on her chin.

"What’s wrong with her?" Samantha gasped, for once releasing her grip of Pete’s hand and moving slowly forward towards her obviously ill stricken friend.

"Oh no … you poor, poor woman!. Emily continued, her words were almost inaudible. A tear welled in her eye, and began form in a tiny rivulet over her cheek.

"What is it, Emily? What’s wrong? You’re scaring us." Samantha placed her arm around her friends shoulder.

Dave watched from the doorway. "Wow! She’s good." He quipped. "She’s really getting into the spirit of things now … go for it girl."

"Shut it, you cretin. Can’t you see, the poor things in a state of shock?"

"Yeah! Course she is," came the mocking reply.

At first Josh may have been enthrawled by Emily’s convincing performance, however, this soon turned to painful concern when he noted the expression on Sandra’s face.

"What is it? What’s wrong with her?"

Sandra swallowed nervously before speaking. "I’ve seen this before. I went to visit my aunty in Scotland when I was younger."

"And?" Josh interrupted, his fear manifesting in irritation.

"She was a medium. She once went into a trance, just like this during a séance, while we were there."

"Oh, here we go. Now we’ve got an episode of Most Haunted going on." Dave laughed.

"Pack it in, Dave," This time it was Josh who made the out-of-character rebuttal.

He moved towards Emily, though he hadn’t a clue why, nor had he any idea what to do to help the poor girl.

"Don’t touch her," Sandra exclaimed. "She must come round herself in her own time. We mustn’t wake her. The shock could kill her."

"Oh please … give me a break!" Dave regretted his harsh comment when he noticed the annoyed glares of his companions, all firmly aimed in his direction.
Emily slowly turned to face the bed, stretching out her hand and resting it lightly on the mattress.

"This was her bed", she said, lowering her gaze and staring at the head of the bed, as if seeing the mysterious woman laying there.

"Whose bed, Emily?" Sandra asked, "Who are you seeing?"

"It was Heather’s bed. Oh, the poor woman, she died here, while waiting for her fiancée to return from the Great War."
They all listened intently to Emily’s sad revelations. Until she fell faint, on the mattress.

"Is she all right?" Josh asked, anxiously.

"I think so," Sandra replied, taking up station by her friends side and waiting for her to come round.

"Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea," Josh began, still unable to take his eyes from poor Emily on the bed.

"Are you kidding, this is exactly why we came here," Dave uttered in uncaring words from the doorway. "If you lot are gonna run scared every time something spooky happens, we might as well pack up and bugger off home now."

"You can be such a prat at times, Dave." Carol scathed. "What should we do Sandra? I’ll go to the kitchen and get the thermos, a warm cuppa might make her feel better when she comes round."

With unanimous agreement all but Sandra and Josh trooped back down stairs.

"What do we do now, Sandra?" Josh enquired. I never expected anything like this to happen. It was all supposed to a big laugh. I never thought anyone would get hurt." The guilt began to ring clear in his voice.

"No one’s got hurt yet. She’ll just be a bit confused when she comes round. She won’t remember a thing, that’s one blessing.

"No. Maybe she won’t remember anything, but I’ll never forget what just happened in here." Josh admitted. "I still think we should call the whole thing off, before someone does get hurt."

"No Josh! I think we should stay. Whoever this Heather is, she’s obviously trapped her, maybe we can help her find the peace she’s been searching for, for all these years."

"I don’t like this Sandra. We’re messing with stuff her that we don’t understand. It scares the crap out of me."

Emily’s faint moans distracted them from further pointless debate. Pointless, because Josh was only too aware that when Sandra made her mind up about something, there was no dissuading her. It was a fact he often resented, it was this very character trait that kept her a couple of rungs above him on the promotion ladder back at the office.

Sandra reached out to cup Emily’s hand in hers.

"Where am I? What happened?" the semi-conscious Emily asked in a faint, shaky voice.

"It’s all right, Emm, you just fainted, that’s all. Just lay there a minute, the others are bringing you a nice hot cup of tea."

Josh stood back, silently impressed at the way Sandra had taken charge of the situation, so calmly. May be there was more to Sandra than met the eye. He suddenly realised that apart from sharing the same office space, and occasionally an odd night out clubbing, he knew nothing about her. This racked him with confusion, his attraction towards her was still as strong, that he felt sure would always be so, but now, there seemed to be a dark shadow of suspicion in the back of his mind, a hidden corner that despite his hardest efforts, he could not dismiss, nor ignore.

"Where are the others? They’re taking a long time," Sandra finally asked, casting a concerned glance at the partly opened door.

By now Emily had gained enough strength and composure to pull herself tentatively from the bed, and took a few precarious steps to the door. "Lets go back down stairs. I don’t like it up here."

After descending no more than halfway down the long staircase, the sound of the others laughing echoed through the thick dusty air.
Josh continued to support a still weak Emily, linking her arm in his, and offering an occasional comforting word as the three of them progressed one creaky step after the next.

Only when they stepped from the stairs and placed a foot on the hall floor did panic engulf the entire household.
In that instant the entire house fell into pitch blackness, and the sound of a sudden storm raged outside. In the chaos, Josh felt Emily’s hand wrench from his arm, momentarily rendering him off balance. The sound of the girls screaming and the boys loud curses echoed all around him, making it impossible to detect from which direction they were coming from.

The impenetrable blackness was frightening enough, but when an amber light illuminated the whole of the ground floor as the gas lights on the walls flickered into light, the terror was numbing.

In the dim light it was possible to survey the area with disbelieving eyes. Every where had transformed from a dusty old derelict house, to a pristine home, furnished with polished furniture, ornaments and painting festooned every available surface.

Josh quickly glanced around, anxiously trying to location his companions. Not one was left standing. He sat by the staircase Sandra to his right and Emily to his left. Carol, Samantha, Pete and Dave were huddled in a terrified heap just outside the kitchen door.

As if by some unanimous instinct, all seven rose to their feet and made for the outer door. No one knew what had just happened, however, all seven knew they were not going to stay around to analyze the situation.
Despite the panicked efforts of four male members of the group, the door remained steadfast, firmly holding them captive, at the mercy of whatever fate had in store for them.

"What the hell is happening?" Dave cursed.

"Try the back door!" Josh hurriedly suggested, already making his way through the hall towards the kitchen. Once again that door was solidly locked. Everyone tried the windows in turn, all to the same negative result. Whatever was happening they were stuck with the consequences.

"We’re caught in a time slip," Sandra announced, surprisingly calmly.

"And what does that mean?" the others asked almost in chorous.

"It means that somehow we’ve shifted back in time to when the house was occupied."

It was all that Josh could do to prevent panic sending them all into wild hysteria,

"Oh my God!" Sandra gasped. She had returned to the hallway door, in time to see the figure of a young woman descending the stairs.

"It’s Heather!" Emily uttered in a voice devoid of all surprise.

The young woman moving slowly and silently towards was indeed Heather, she was dressed in the black lacy dress they had all seen previously hanging on the bedroom door.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, it became obvious she was totally oblivious to their presence. Despite their panicked comments and occasional gasps of disbelief.

Slowly she made her way to the outer door when she retrieved what appeared to be a telegram from the occasional table nestled in the corner.
After reading its contents, poor Heather screamed in shock, turned on her heels and ran headlong back up the stairs.

They all stood, silent witnesses to the scene unfolding before them, until, Emily, with tears soaking her pale face informed them that they were reliving the sad moment when the poor girl first became aware that her fiancée had been killed in action while in France.

"Don’t be so bloody stupid," Dave cursed angrily. "Things like this just don’t happen. We’re all imagining it."

Still under the mantle of the only person present who had any grasp of what was happening, Sandra stepped forward and explained that when Heather had first received the news she was so distraught, the sheer magnitude of her emotions had been imprinted on the very fabric of the house and the unfortunate Emily had tuned in to this imprint causing it to be re-inacted before them.

As Emily took over, explaining that Heather had been so devastated by the tragic loss of her beloved Jimmy, she had immediately taken to her bed, where she remained until eventually died alone of a broken heart.
Slowly, one by one the gas wall lights began to extinguish and the familiar musty smell, filled the air, as the house reverted back to its sad state dereliction.

Although experiencing and surviving the most frightening event in their lives, no one seemed surprised when the main door slowly creaked open, and the strengthening evening wind drifted inside. No one made a mad panic inspired dash to escape, but calmly walked out to their cars and drove home, each torn to tears by the sad events they had just witnessed.