Behind the Staircase

By Christopher Eagan

"Christopher Eagan's "Paranormal, Supernatural" stories challenge the construct being reality and dreams. It's a world where dreams and nightmares of all kinds crash into the modern world and sensibilities, where all paths no matter how mysterious must be followed and all tactics, no matter how ancient or modern must be utilized for his characters to explore their true destiny, and discover the real secrets of the world."

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543931785

Book preview

Christopher Eagan has always explored the deepest recesses of his creative mind, whether it’d be his work as a musician and his extensive career as an inventor, but now, he’s dug deep into the recesses of his soul, and created stories from the Beyond. Eagan’s debut book of short stories, that seeks to achieve that same sense of amazement, frights and wonder that’s reminiscent of The Twilight Zone, The Outer Limits or Black Mirror, examines the limits of our dreams, that cross the line between our world and those of the darkest of spirits, and sneak into our unconscious like a haunting forgotten memory that awaken our greatest fears and most forbidden desires. These short tales of love, mystery, death, destruction, are about characters who seek to find out the unknown no matter the consequences or cost; stories that will seep into your mind as it reaches for your soul, like a ghostly presence that seem to hide in dark painting or craters in your most twilight of illusions, or simply haunts and toys with us like that weird unexplained sound that calls out for you from, Behind the Staircase!

SCHOOL DAYS ONCE AGAIN

Powerful ancient demons possess the children of an upscale New York apartment building. Led by Jennifer, a working single mother, the residents must exorcise the demons before their children, burn them alive!

CRESCENT HILLS

An antique dollhouse is the only link to centuries of sudden mass disappearances of entire families. Mary, a grief-stricken bartender, and Bill, a trusted cop that’s one of her best customers, must find the source of the dollhouse’s powers before it strikes again!

SOUL PAINTER

Richard and Rachel are stunned to find a mysterious image of a painter, who suddenly shows up in video footage of people right as their lives are about to end. The lowly CIA techs’ obsession with this mysterious painter leads them to an ancient castle, but will finding the truth of The Soul Painter’s powers be too much for them to bear?!

I GOT YOUR NUMBER

Markus’s vacation is invaded by a mysterious woman who begins appearing in his dreams. Convinced that she’s the love of his life and determined to save her, Markus’s desire leads him on a surreal journey that challenges all perceptions of space, time, and reality to find what he’s looking for or be lost forever?

Behind the Staircase

Writer by Inventor: CHRISTOPHER EAGAN

Copyright 20-15/20-17

Contributing Writer: David Baruffi

Publisher: James Bruce Publishing Company

3395 Independence Street

Grove City, Ohio 43123

614-599-5298

[e-mail]

Print ISBN: 978-1-54393-177-8

eBook ISBN: 978-1-54393-178-5

A SPECIAL THANKS TO DAVID BARUFFI FOR

HIS CONTRIBUTING WORK ON THE STORIES

A Special Thank You to my wife DIANE RENAY for helping from the inception of these stories

Contents

School Days Once Again

Crescent Hills

The Soul Painter

I Got Your Number

School Days Once Again

Accelerarlo! Accelerarlo! the Foreman yells out to the Peasant workers. We gotta get the bricks stacked and loaded; the ship is leaving tonight! he continues to proclaim to them, in Italian. The Peasant workers, are cleaning the deepest red colored bricks they’ve ever seen, one they’re all overly familiar with. It’s winter of 1918, a small village outside Terracina, Italy. The Peasants acknowledge the Foreman’s yells, as the pallets remain barely filled.

Non posso! Non posso!, one of the Peasants suddenly yells, as he drops the brick and the chisel he was picking the mortar off of them, and he begins to walk away.

Where are you going?! Get back here! The Foreman yells at the disgruntled peasant. He doesn’t turn around, and begins to head off, but the Foreman runs over to stop him! Hey! Hey! Where are you going!

Non posso! Non posso!, again, he repeats.

Diavolo! Il Diavolo! Mattoni del diavolo! The Peasant explains.What do you mean you can’t?

They’re not the Devil’s bricks. I assure you. The Foreman responds.

We know they come Il Cortile del Cortivo! That’s where they worshipped him. That’s where they prayed to him.

That’s an old superstition…-

Il Cortile del Cortivo!

It wasn’t! The foreman tries to explain. It was an old, decrepit Catholic Church, from the Middle Ages, the Church of St. Thomas the Apostle, originally. It was never The Devil’s Playground.

"Yes! The Devil’s Playground! It’s where they prayed at night! The Devil Worshippers! They prayed, they sacrificed virgins. They bathed in the blood of the goats they’d sacrificed, when they could not find a virgin…

None of that is true, The Foreman interrupts.

That’s what they say

I’ve heard the legends, but that’s not what hap-. Have you ever met a devil worshipper? The Foreman confronts him. The Peasant doesn’t answer. Who are these worshippers, I’ve lived here all my life, I’ve never seen one, have you? You know them? I don’t know any. I’ve never seen one outside, I’ve never seen them worshipping in the ruins, where it would be easy to see them coming and going, and I’ve never even smelled the fire coming from the pit that they surrounded, or for that matter a pit for them to put a fire to surround. It’s just a rumor. A childhood tale to scare us.

No, no, no. It’s real. The Devil’s Playground, those bricks are from there. They’re not good. The Peasant answers back, unconvinced. The Foreman scoffs in frustration, shakes his head slightly, back and forth.

Okay, look, somebody’s bought the space, and they’ve paid me quite a bit to take the bricks from the ruins and have them transported to America. Now, if you don’t want to clean them, that’s fine, but this is the only job that’s out there today; you want to make money, right? I’m already doubling my usual fee, cause the ship’s leaving tonight! The Foreman explains, but gets no response from the Peasant. He pauses and takes a breath for a moment, before changing his approach. You have kids, right?"

Che cosa? The Peasant questions, caught off guard by the question.

You have kids, right, and a wife? The Foreman asks again.

Tre..

Three kids. You all, have kids, right?! Most of you, have a wife, kids, right!? The Foreman yells loudly, to make sure the rest of the Peasants on the line heard him. They acknowledge and mumble responses back in agreement. I’m paying for workers. If you can go on home and take care of your family, without my salary, be my guest, but if not, then I need you on the line; I need you cleaning the bricks.

You can pay for what I did already… The Peasant tries to bargain.

I’m paying for the day. I need this job done! The Foreman yells, again, so all the Peasants can hear. All of you, I need these bricks to be on that ship, tonight. If they’re not cleaned and leaving on that ship tonight, then I can’t pay any of you. Nobody’s paid until the job is done, or else, I’ll be screwed! Okay?! So, get them done today! The Foreman announces before turning back to the Peasant. It’s your choice, either you clean the bricks, or you’re not getting paid. What’s it gonna be? The Peasant looks over at those bricks, reluctantly. The large pile, on one side of the line, the smaller pile that’s slowly getting filled on the pallet, the chiseling and cleaning with water and muriatic acid. He’s scared, but he slowly walks back over to his spot on the line, picks up his chisel and begins taking the disheveled mortar and cement off the bricks as much as he can.

Good. The Foreman says under his breath to the Peasant, before turning back to the rest of the group. Speed it up Everyone! Accelerarlo! Accelerarlo! He says, before heading off. The Peasant takes a deep breath and does the sign of the cross after passing his latest brick off to be cleaned with muriatic acid. The rest of the Peasants follow suit and do the sign of the cross themselves, before going back to work. It takes some time, and it’s not as quickly as the Foreman wants, but just before nightfall, all the bricks are cleaned and are soon stacked, tied on the back of many old horse-drawn wagons.

The horses are reluctant to travel with the load, one of them even freaking out and having to be calmed down as he neighed to the sky. Finally, after almost ten minutes of convincing, the horse is calm enough to travel, but they’re all whipped constantly by the drivers as they head towards the pier.

Once there, they unload the bricks and are placed onto the on large pallets that are carefully maneuvered into the storage area along with numerous other cargo, and several potential immigrants. Late that night, the ship set sail.

The R.S. Santa Maria arrives in Ellis Island Pier a couple grueling months at sea later. As immigrants are filed out of the ship and into registration, the bricks are run out and onto a nearby ferry, where they’re taken to up the Hudson River, to Haverstraw, NY, in Rockland County. The bricks are then stacked onto the back of several horse-drawn wagons. The horses, are reluctant to travel with the bricks, and after a few of them have to be calmed down by the riders, eventually, they all begin traveling down the roads to a construction site. There, an Elderly Gentleman awaits their arrival, along with a skeletal construction crew. The Elderly Gentleman, limps with his cane over to the bricks and drivers and signals his workers to collect them and pile them over to the side. It takes most of the day, but all the bricks are eventually stacked and set aside.

That’s a lot of bricks, Mister. The Driver points out to the Elderly Man, What are you building?

It’s gonna become a school. The Elderly Gentlemen replies, Boys school, for the more distressed and unruly kids.

Oh, okay. The Driver pauses. You need to import bricks for that?

These are special bricks. Special bricks for a special school. The Elderly Gentleman calmly responds, waving his right hand towards the Leader, before folding his fingers back into his palm.

Well, it’s your vision. The Driver shrugs. Good luck, with the school. He adds before climbing back into the wagons.

You’re welcome. The Elderly Gentleman responds. The Driver and the rest of the wagons head off, as it begins to get dark. The Elderly Gentleman heads over towards his crew of workers. Onto a nearby table, he takes the tube that he’s been using as a makeshift cane, and opens it up to pull out the blueprints, which he spreads out on the table. Now, I know this is complex, but money is no object, take your time, and build it as strong as you can, he informs his workers, waving his hand towards his workers in the same motion as before.

It takes three years in total, but eventually, every red brick is used and the school is completed. The three-story schoolhouse is finally completed. The Elderly Gentleman shows up at the ribbon cutting ceremony where hundreds from the town are there to celebrate, but that became the last time anybody ever saw or heard from him. The schoolhouse, meanwhile would be up and running, and soon, the most troubled of kids around the state would come to this school.

For the next seven years, the school seems to have begun being a useful and accepted part of the neighborhood, as well as the school and juvenile correction systems, that produced both positive results in terms of graduation rates as well as a high record of turning some of the more troubled boys into outstanding citizens. The latest class, seemed to be going as every previous class had gone before. Troubled boys becoming fast friends and eventually better, well-educated kids.

One kid, however, spent his days sitting along the red brick walls of the Hallway, not conversing with anyone, staff, teacher or student, and mostly just spent his time drawing. One fall day, a group of classmates walked up to him.

Hey, what’s this you always got. The Leader of the group, loudly and boisterously says as he grabs the piece of paper away from the Loner Child, who curiously doesn’t respond right away. What are you, Van Gogh? The Leader quips as his friends laugh and point.

No, the Loner calmly speaks with a stirringly intense monotone, but do you want to see what I, can do?

What’s that The Leader asks. The Loner grabs back his paper forcefully, which he then turns over onto the other side, and begins drawing. He draws quickly, surprisingly well for a kid his age. He draws the classroom, with all the kids, including the Boys in front of him, including the Leader, sitting in the classroom, looking towards the School Counselor, who he depicts, choking, grabbing at his throat, and in the process of falling face-first onto the hardwood floors.

When he finishes, the Loner holds up the picture, which he shows the Boys. They don’t react much, most of them are simply confused, and begin to back away right as the bell rings.

He’s a weird friggin’ kid, One mumbles under his breath to the Leader.

Yeah, really friggin’ weird. The Leader utters in response. Soon, the boys, eventually including the Loner kid, sit down in their classroom, and take their seats. Right as the second bell rings, the School Counselor comes into the classroom.

Everyone in your seats? The School Counselor says as he enters. One kid in the back, who was still talking with another, quickly sits down at his desk and stares at attention. Good. Miss Aikens wanted to let me talk to all of you about my role, here at the school. Now, usually, I talk to the older kids, as I try to guide them into proper careers choices and options, but I also deal with the younger kids as well. Now, there’s available work here at the school, but I wanted to also talk to you all about some of your decisions and choices you’ll need to make, as you progress, either through this school, or through your own local school later. For instance-… The Counselor suddenly stops talking, and has trouble breathing.

You okay, John. Miss Aikens questions, but the School Counselor doesn’t answer, as he grabs clutches his throat with both hands, trying to speak, but only pulling out guttural sounds before he finally releases one last gasp, and collapses, face first onto the floor, banging the side of his head on the edge of Miss Aikens’s desk as he falls. The students, except for the Loner from before, are taken aback, and many of them, along with Miss Aikens scream in agony. Miss Aikens finally runs out into the hall, looking for help, as blood begins to pour onto the floor from the Counselor’s head wound. As everyone is terrified, and the hospital is called, and panic enthralls most everyone, the Leader walks over, stunned at the Loner kid he was picking on earlier.

How the hell did you do that?!

I, can do many, many things. The Loner calmly responds, while waving his right hand towards the Leader, before folding his fingers back into his palm, almost as though he’s hypnotizing him. Do you want to know, what I can do for you? For all of you. He continues, as Leader only now realizes that all his friends have lined up behind him.

Tell us. They all respond, in unison.

I, will be your Leader and in return, I can give you powers, and the ability to live forever. However, you must do, what is required by me. You can call me Draco. The Loner says in a quiet yet menacing but assured tone.

They all agree, and as the school year goes on, they and numerous other boys begin hanging out with Draco. They don’t talk much, but they hang around, and often behind Draco, and protect and admire him, with an almost cult-like devotion. It’s noticed, by the staff and teachers, but they’re not sure exactly how to broach the subject, or how dangerous or treacherous it might be to do so. Shortly after the Counselor’s funeral, a town hall style, parent-teacher conference was called, for the parents of all the students. In the meantime, Draco’s group continues to grow, in number and news spread about his powers.

Miss Aikens, and I, thought it would be a good idea, to talk with all of you, about what’s been going on with your kids, and with us, since Mr. Puck’s sudden passing, the School Principal, begins in the conference in the school’s auditorium. And we wanted to let you all know, about everything that’s been going on, since then, and, answer any and all questions, as well as, discuss some ideas about how to handle the transition. I did want to inform you all that, the Coroner’s Report, which, is, um,- well, I’ll be honest, it doesn’t provide any more clarity on Mr. Puck’s death. It claims that his larynx was, crushed. They’re not quite sure, how, but, that’s the report. If anybody wants to take a look at it and pass it around…. No? The Principle asks, but nobody wants to look at the documents, so he puts it behind underneath, inside the back of the podium that he’s standing behind. I-eh, I know, you all have some questions, should we start taking and discussing them?

The Principle looks to the raised hands in the audience and selects one at random. The questions come fast and furious. Bobby keeps refusing to do the homework? Sammy continues to not talk to any of us anymore. I don’t understand what’s happened to Marco lately? Art seems to only talk to this Draco kid, what is going on with him? Geno has become, completely introverted, I’m afraid about what’s going to happen to him, or what he’ll do? All of them, questions the teachers and staff, try to discuss with the parents, none of them, are able to come up with a decent answer. After a while, a few of the teachers start coughing. First, there’s nothing to it, but then a few parents begin to cough as well. Then, one of them realizes, thick black smoke, coming into the room from behind a door. Then every door of the auditorium. Panicked, a few of the parents rush to the door. One of them burns his hand on it, as he tries to open it, but it’s locked. So are all the others, each one, chained and locked from the outside. The last kid, looking on, at the fire that’s beginning to grow and smolder all through the halls and classrooms, before calmly turning around and exiting through the entrance, which he and a couple other boys lock using chains through and around the door handles, along with combination locks. They join their other friends, behind Draco, who is staring up at the fire with an emotionless expression on his face.

When your parents take their final breath, Draco announces quietly, as he turns to the group of boys. You will then, have the power. Draco finishes, waving his hand, the same way as before towards everybody, folding his hands into his palm.

Yes, Draco! The boys say in unison. We will have the power.

When the fireman, ambulances and police were finally able to break the chains and fight their way into the school, all the adults in the auditorium were dead of smoke