Spectrum: 2nd Edition

By Heather Arneson

The only way to diminish the darkness is to shed light on it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781543934373

Book preview

Zaske

PROLOGUE

The night air clung to the lovers’ words, the female discernibly younger than the male, but she held him as if he were a child, You think I would ever leave you?  She implored, with glassy eyes locked on his.

The couple seemed resigned as though they were about to step aboard a ship that would never see the light of day again, yet they knew they wouldn’t part.  It was a long way to the end of the road, and their bodies knocked together like chimes in an old bell tower, the way they stepped in time to each other’s rhythm, which was slow and skipped out of beat when they kissed.  He told her to wait but noticed she left his side.  He decided to use the nearest tree stump as a urinal and muttered, See, you always do this… 

She ran out of his sight down the road, Later! 

C’mon, please don’t…  His words trailed beneath the sparse greenery that shielded her apartment complex, and he drunkenly jogged towards her.

She lit up a cigarette and giggled, as he caught up with her, then she turned around, and as they kissed a markedly loud gunshot broke their musings in half; dark red ran into cracks and poured into the lush summer grass, while the cigarette burned a hole in her amber skirt scorching her at its finale.  Her eyes lurched back as he cupped her head, and her blood-matted hair splayed out onto his hands.  He kissed her for the last time, and then slumped down beside her.

PART I:  DOORWAY TO A NIGHTMARE

Therefore the LORD God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from whence he was taken.  So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life. -Genesis 3:23-24

There is one place in the world that is so voluminous with silenced hope that it strains a reflection of itself, where good shines outwards only towards those who are innocent, as a plea; Grange Manor, once an impressive mansion, is now considered a place built by evil.  At one time, it was surrounded by a bountiful garden, ornamented by a display of angels and cherubs, but now it is caulked by a vast menagerie of debris and calcium.  It received the nickname Horror House by the older locals as it has a reputation for being the location where mysterious and accidental deaths occur. 

A wide, grassy median divides the roads heading east of it in the city of Gensville, Wisconsin.  And it barely stands, a boarded-up white building protruding in the middle, like a macabre historic landmark.  The neighborhood children still love to run near the blistered ruin, while they play in the park across the street. 

EMILY

Emily Burroughs moved to Gensville with her parents just after she ended the 4th grade in the spring of 1975.  She had a lot of time to herself at first as both her mother and father were doctors, and she was their only child.  At the age of 9 she started to frequent Grange Park playground with friends she met in her neighborhood, not to the behest of her nanny Mary Brookes, who always brought her to Weiss Park at the edge of town. 

She was a quiet, yet engaging young girl, and liked the company of others at her place, especially since Mary was kind and a good temporary guardian, neither strict nor mean to her and her friends.  Emily liked to observe how others acted.  She watched how they talked, imagined, and like an adult thought to herself how peculiar and wonderful children are.  It wasn’t as if she was out of her body, nor present in the moment enough; she was merely perceptive and slightly introverted.  In particular, she was entertained by Erik and Patrick, the Seacrest twins.  They often finished each other’s sentences and taught her how to play baseball and basketball.  In many ways, they were her surrogate brothers. 

One late afternoon, the sun seared through the windows of the broken fortress down a few blocks from the stucco home where Emily lived in, like a matchstick crackling brightly and fizzling out soon after.  It nearly consumed her thoughts, and she was curious what might be there.  It was a week before she would be going to a private school without the twins, so she decided to ask if they wanted to venture to Grange Manor for a final adventure.

The brothers’ father was an ex-marine and police officer, and their mother stayed at home to look after the children.  She was calm, but he was conversely on edge.  Their home felt like a cathedral of secrets to Emily.

Once, she brought over her Barbie dolls and Erik’s Dad sneered at her, What are you doing bringing those around?  Aren’t you too old to be playing with those things, Emily? 

She didn’t talk to him much after that.  He had a rigid way about him that unsettled her.  She didn’t completely understand his temperament at the time.  Patrick and Erik explained to her that their father was injured and tortured in the war, and that he asserted he was stronger because of it.  Emily felt awkward around their father, not because he endured something horrifying; instead she felt guilty about his past. 

Her parents were both doctors and they fixed people for a living, so she thought they could help him as well.  She brought up the notion to them one night over a steak dinner.  After a long pause, her father shook his head bewildered and dropped his fork onto the fine china plate, How was this brought up?

The twins told me, Emily divulged, and pushed her chair away from the table.

Where are you going so fast?  Her father demanded.

The school year is about to start, and I won’t have time to play with them as much then, and they’re my friends! She responded, then flashed innocent puppy eyes at him.

Her mother added, Fine…why don’t you go play for a bit?  But you must come home before it gets dark.

        Alright!  Thanks, Mom!  She hugged and kissed her.

        Hey, where’s my kiss?  Her Dad bellowed but was unable to compel his daughter to stay a minute longer.  Then, the Doctors Burrough continued to eat their meals until tangerine and purple shades of the sunset lulled them into the living room, where they enjoyed its brilliant blooming and fading soliloquy.

Patrick!  Erik!  Emily shouted outside of their bedroom window, I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house down!

Patrick popped his head out and answered, Hey! We’ll be right down.

Erik and Patrick presented two plastic bags full of supplies in hand, and the mission began.  When they were a block away from Grange Park, they proceeded to pull out hammers, screwdrivers, and three thermoses containing Hi-C.

We came prepared, Patrick said and smirked.

I guess you did, Emily replied.  She strongly felt that they were about to do something daring and special, and no other children had the guts like they did.

Just remember, if any ghosts jump at you, don’t run.  Just use this Windex.  They don’t like it, because it makes them reflect more.

Now we should be quick, because if the neighbors see us, they might call the cops, Erik told them with feverishly intent eyes.

They won’t call the cops.  They’ll probably give us a medal!  Patrick snickered.

For breaking into a house?  Erik stared at his brother blankly.

        Emily sighed, I feel sad because if it were up to me, I’d go to the same school as you both, still.

Look, we have to do this.  It’s our last week that we can really hang out, Patrick encouraged them to boost morale for their venture.

As they arrived at the border of the house, Emily heard singing, much like the sound of a chorus of young children’s voices, but dissonant.  Do you guys hear that? She asked.

      It sounds like music, Patrick offered.

There might be a parade tonight, Erik added.

Oh, yeah, I guess, Emily added, I don’t know.  This house kind of gives me the creeps.

You’re not wussin’ out on us, now, are you?!  Patrick cracked at her.

No…I just…you guys take the boards out of the window.  I’m not going to, okay?!  I’ll keep a look-out, She replied.

Erik and Patrick worked on disassembling the boards from the two windows facing the park, and in under 15 minutes they went into the broken house.  Darkness crept in, and Emily was worried she might miss her curfew.  She could almost hear her father’s disappointed tone.

Let’s make this quick, Emily urged.

Patrick frantically got his foot through a half-opened window and said, You don’t know what it’s like, though, unless you actually see it, Emily.

        Stop teasing her, Patrick, Erik responded, and patted Emily on the shoulder, are you coming in, too?  You don’t have to at all.  We can tell you what it’s like.

Emily wanted to leave then and there as she heard the strange voices rattle the neurons in her brain, but she was afraid to leave her friends alone, so she stepped in the entry way and declared, I’ll be here.

After 10 minutes of patiently waiting, she noticed little sunlight left, and mustered up the courage to call for departure, Erik?  Patrick?  We should get going!  Sun’s almost down.  I have to be back soon!

The bent floorboards and the burnt ash where the walls used to be gradually gave way to an absence in the air, a void; it clung to everything in the house like a webbing of dust particles, and then the children’s voices stopped. 

Emily—a woman’s voice moved along the floor, into the vacuum of space and time that encircled the young girl with its venom. 

Then she heard a man’s voice yell, Help me! 

Who are you?!  Emily cried out, and tried to find where it came from, but to no avail.

The voices intermingled and melded with even more like muddled colors on a palette, and she couldn’t decipher which to give her attention to the most.  Her legs folded, then she collected her knees together and rocked herself back and forth on the floor.  Suddenly, a hawk flew in through the porch window, and as she looked up, its wing grazed her.  Amazed, she got up to try and see where it went, but before she could go any farther, the voices began again with a vengeance more obtrusively jarring than before.  Thrown off kilter by the noise, she fell onto a large rusty nail, and wailed in pain.

Her scream reached the twins, and she heard bustling as Erik rushed over to lift her up, while the walls hazily shook through Emily’s tears.  The scorched semblance of a room crawled over her like an insect.  Time seemed to cease, and she couldn’t focus clearly on anything, while in a state of shock.

MARIO & MICHELLE

Michelle!  Are you reading this?  I can hear it through my headphones.  It’s so fucking loud.  Can you believe this shit?  Mario yelled to his counterpart.

Yeah, Mario.  I can hear it.

I just can’t believe it’s working!  I can’t wait to tell the paranormal society at the University.  They’ll have a field day.

Shh…it sounds like there’s some whispering, now, She responded and sat down, undetermined to stay in the middle of the basement, next to ashes, What do you think they’re saying?

Confused, Mario shook his head and examined the wave pattern through the EVP monitor, Uno momento…I don’t know what this is, but it looks like a bit of stuttering.  I wonder if my voice is causing this repetition, like an echo of exactly what I’m saying.  Hello…hello, testing, He paused for a minute, I think it’s playing back what I’m saying, He looked at her dejectedly, I just thought I really heard something…something spectacular.

Well, good for you.  I don’t know if ghosts exist, but either way I am getting creeped-out being in this basement.  Let’s get out of here!  This place is falling apart, and I feel like I’m in some kind of dungeon, Michelle said and flipped her raven black hair over her shoulder.

Mario planted his feet firmly on the floor, then asked her, What?  Did you hear that?!

You are loco, Mario…muy.

Let me demonstrate.  Hello…hello, testing… He said.

He-llo-hello…tessssting, his words parroted back to him.

Mario, that wasn’t you that time, She interjected, cursed, then ran upstairs.

Suddenly, Mario’s camera switched off, so he turned it on again, but it didn’t start.  Exasperated, he took out the Mini DV tape, and as he tried to place his video camera back on the tripod, it started to rattle.  Even though the equipment itself wasn’t on, he saw an image in his viewfinder of the words Hell on Earth scrawled in blood.  As he inspected it closer, he heard footsteps.

He reached the top of the stairs after what seemed like an eternity, slammed the basement door, and entered the living room, where Michelle was curled up on the battered redwood floor, They tried to take them.  They want to take me, now, She mumbled.

Mario picked her up to shake her out of her trance, then grasped her elbows tightly and asked, What happened? 

I don’t know.  I saw a large shadow, and I was worried something would hit me.  Was I talking to myself?  She implored and rubbed her forehead.

Mario looked intently into her eyes and questioned, Want to go?

I thought you would never ask, She replied, and seemed like she was going to faint.  When they reached the car, she noticed a sign that warned trespassers to stay away, swing in the breeze precariously, "I don’t know what happened, Mario, but I didn’t expect any of this, I mean any!"  She purported.

You told me not to reveal anything about what to expect ahead of time!  Remember?  Plus, if you really want to know, you could have checked the newspaper articles about Grange Manor.  They were right on the coffee table!  He grimaced, and drove them through the open gates to safety, "can you please check something for me?  Look through my bag and make sure I have my tapes in there?  I’m sorry, that was muy loco.  Even for me."

After a few minutes of sorting through scraps of paper, gloves, and video equipment, she threw up her hands and exclaimed, "I can’t find it!  By the way, I don’t totally blame you about all of this."

Shit!  I think I left it in there.  I seem to remember it falling out of my pocket, He replied.

Michelle’s eyes welled with fear and she demanded, You’re not going back in there, are you?! 

"NO!  We’re in Wisconsin, and have a long drive to get back home, besides it being a freak show in that house.  Excuse me, I mean, full of highly-concentrated specter activity.  But I am going to recommend to the paranormal society that they should investigate it.  Maybe I can be their consultant.  I don’t know, I haven’t figured it all out, yet…"

She raised her eyebrows, Okay, whatever Mario.  Just don’t bring me in on any of these adventures again with you.  I feel like I’ve been touched by something dramatically bad.  Whatever it was, it certainly has no good intentions for me.

EMILY

The day waned, and night stirred its strict diet of pain and confusion.  It created in Emily a desire for reckoning, and she felt her spirit gathering strength to fight.  However, she was so weakened by the trauma that she hadn’t slept well for weeks.  The antibiotics the doctor gave her for the injury made her more hyper than usual, and her parents were so disturbed and bewildered by the accident and by her description of the events leading up to it that they called in a child psychologist to visit her. 

I’m fine.  It’s not me.  It’s the house that’s sick, She balked.

We know you didn’t hear any ghosts, because ghosts don’t exist, Her father replied.

The following morning, she awoke to ABBA’s tune People Need Love, and a warm glow seeped through her room.  She finally had a full sleep and was grateful to Mary for making her French toast, glazed with strawberries.  Emily jumped out of bed, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and looked down at her stomach where she received stitches, then rubbed the bumpy layer with her fingers.  She became lost in a daze for a moment, remembering how scared the twins were when they found her injured in Grange Manor.

Emily! How did you like your breakfast?  Mary asked.

It was good. Thanks a lot.  You made me feel better.  I’m ready to go out now! Emily made her way down carefully the stairs to put on her shoes.

Oh…I don’t know if you should, Emily.  I wouldn’t feel comfortable about it, with your recent accident and all.

Mary, that was ages ago.  I want to see the twins!  Look, I know that you never wanted me to go near that place, and I feel bad about it.  I have to be able to see my friends, though.  What’s wrong with that? Emily replied, as she tapped her heels against the base of the green couch in the porch.  Her bright blue eyes looked hollowed from fatigue, but her voice was animated.

Honey, your parents don’t want you to see the boys for a little while, Mary said.

But why?!  Emily implored.

As she patted the young girl’s dark brown curls, Mary whispered, That place is nothing you need to concern yourself with, ever, and has far worse a history than most think.  It’s no place for kids, adults, no-one… Then, she walked into the kitchen to finish cleaning.

Emily was confused, because no matter how much she wanted to estrange herself from memory of being in Grange Manor, it felt more present than ever before.  She swiftly entered the kitchen to question her sweet and loving friend, only to find her crouched on the floor, hyperventilating.  Her mother warned her once before of her nanny’s condition, so Emily ran over to the storage closet and picked out a brown bag that held a 45 record.  She rushed over to Mary, who was sprawled out and struggling for air, and put the bag over Mary’s mouth.

After she inhaled and exhaled for a few minutes and caught her breath, Mary hugged Emily as if she never wanted to let her go, and exclaimed, Thank you— for helping me, Emily!  Now, there’s something I must tell you…ahem—let’s go back and sit on the couch together.  We will talk about it.  Her speech sounded hesitant at first, as she emerged from the physical and emotional trauma she endured long ago.  There were truths her mind absorbed before, mixed with reality and unearthing the once dormant machinations was obviously painful.  However, she persisted in revealing them for Emily’s sake, and through a few broken sentences she shared, "Try to imagine yourself in a safe place, Emily…I don’t know if I can do this, but I will try…Emily, that horrible place you were in should have been torn down long ago.  It’s not your fault what happened to you…remember, you and the boys…it’s just best you don’t go