Haunted Shadows: Supernatural Mystery, #4

By DJ Jewett

SHADOW PEOPLE - seen only with a glimpse.  It's said they inhabit the darkness, lurking in the shadows.

 

But now, people are vanishing; and a solar eclipse is approaching, bringing ever deeper shadows to our world.

 

What mystery do these shadows hold?

 

Spiritual Mediums Lucius and Maureen are brought in to solve the mystery, to find answers about the people who have vanished.  But then Maureen herself disappears, and Lucius must fight against supernatural forces to save her.

 

GET IT NOW !

 

Set in historic Salem Village, award-winning author, DJ Jewett, presents this fourth book in his Supernatural Mystery/Thriller series; featuring our psychic heroes, Lucius Jackson and Maureen Rennik.

 

This is a story you'll want to read, NOW!

• Language: English
• Publisher: JT Media
• Release date: Jun 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393063858

Book preview

Prologue - June, 1806; Danvers, Massachusetts

IN THE DARK OF NIGHT , Nathaniel Sterling walked the upstairs hallway, grasping a candelabrum of six wax candles.  The flames were flickering, melting the wax into drippings that ran down the candles, yet throwing off enough light that he could see the path before him.

He felt his skin crawling, and his blood running cold; yet he didn’t know why.

He found himself in front of the mirror that hung on the wall.  It was a fixture, and it usually went unnoticed by those who lived there.  But this time, something caught his eye, something different about it.  He peered into it.

It wasn’t just the flickering flames, nor was it his own reflection.  This time, he saw two red eyes glaring back at him.

He stepped back with a shiver, then turned to look behind him.  But there wasn’t any red eyes, nor red dots of any kind.  He turned and gazed into the mirror; the eyes were still there.

He examined the mirror, noting the flame’s reflection.  Then he peered into it, seeing a reflection of himself.  But the eyes were also there; they didn’t move.

Again he turned and looked behind him.  Nothing.

Once more he peered into the mirror.  But this time, the eyes were gone!

He felt the shivers recede, his breathing leveling out.  He looked one more time, then continued on his final walk before sleep.

One step, two steps.  And then he glimpsed movement to his left.  He spun in that direction, held the candles out in front of him.  Nothing.

He shook his head.  Tired, I must be.

This kind of thing happened before, so he shrugged it off.  And yet, he couldn’t put it out of his mind; because he knew in his gut there was more.  But he didn’t know what it was – yet!

He stood in the hallway and turned around, looking for what he couldn’t see.  The wax was dripping down the sides of the candles, but he looked past that – into the gloom, the shadows, the dark of night.

Nothing.

He entered the bedroom.  Charlotte was already in bed, laying on her side.  He placed the candles on the table beside him, changed into his sleep clothes, and crawled into bed.

He blew out the candles and laid down on the pillow.

His wife rolled over and embraced him.  She said, Everyone in bed?

Aye, he replied.

Then what is wrong?  Charlotte was the sensitive one in the family.

Wrong?  He replied.  Nothing.  All is well.

Nathaniel, my darling.  Ye cannot fool me.  Ye have something on ye mind.

Sleep, woman, he replied.

Come now.  What has happened.

Nathaniel sighed, then said, I saw it from the corner of mine eye again.

The black thing?

Yes.

Was it different than last night?

No.  It was the same – always the same.

She sighed, then said, Fourth night in a row.

Aye.

Nathaniel.  Ye mustn’t talk about this – not to the children, and certainly not to the townspeople.  For if this were to get out, people would think the old days are returning.

Aye, my love.  But the old days are 100 years ago.

Nevertheless, she whispered, we should not speak of it here, for the old days may return – witch trials, torture, hangings.  And worse, they may next come for one of us.  Again!

Aye, Charlotte.  Now go to sleep.  We have a big day in the fields tomorrow.

NATHANIEL AND CHARLOTTE sat together in the kitchen, with numerous candles lined up on the kitchen table’s surface.  With some of the candles lit, their gaze was fixed on the flickering flames; eyes following as the flames swayed back and forth, rising, and then falling.

They knew the eclipse was approaching; and they knew it would bring darkness.  And ultimately, they knew their precious sunlight would be much diminished, if not entirely gone.

They didn’t really fear the darkness, but they were afraid of what it might bring – the people in the shadows.

During the previous days, as the time of the eclipse approached, they were aware they’d seen more of the shadows.  Charlotte thought of this, and she felt a chill down her spine.  On this, a day in mid-June, the cold she felt was not about the weather!

Nathaniel was scanning the room, seeking anything untoward.  He didn’t know what to expect, but he feared the darkness that an eclipse like this could bring.

Charlotte sat next to him, patiently watching as the darkness descended.  She too was afraid, but she hid it well.

Nathaniel glimpsed movement from the corner of his eye.  He turned and extended a candle toward the hall, then he peered into the opening.

He saw nothing – just a shifting blackness merging into a shadowy corner of the hallway; he’d seen it many times before.

He glanced at Charlotte, but she just shrugged.  And so Nathaniel turned his attention to the room.  Darkness was closing in.

Again, he glimpsed movement from the hallway.  He extended the candles, casting more light.  And that’s when he saw it, moving much slower than usual.

It was like an inkblot, but with dimension and in the form of a human; yet it was black.  He watched as it dissolved into the ether.

He said to Charlotte, Did you see that?

Ye - yes, she croaked.  She was shivering, her arms folded across her chest.  Her face was pinched, with fair skin drawn taut around her eyes.  She released a breath, then tilted her head and said, What was it!

I don’t know, Nathaniel replied.  It looked much like a blot of ink, only it was about my size – large – and it was in the shape of a man.

He stood up and walked into the hallway, to the spot where ‘it’ appeared.  Standing, he looked around; then up, and then down to the floor.

He brought his gaze back to Charlotte, a quizzical expression on his face.  It’s gone, he said.  It’s just gone.

She exhaled, then replied, Thank goodness!  They’re so scary!

But they will return, Nathaniel continued.  This, I know.

He stepped into the kitchen and the two stood quietly, watching.

What’s bringing them out? Nathaniel queried.  For there have been many more these past few weeks.

Charlotte’s blond hair and fair skin belied the deep circles of her eyes.  She said through clenched teeth, This house.  It’s haunted.

Oh, balderdash, he replied, quietly.  Haunted, it is not.

Then what, pray tell, do you call those things?  They hide in the darkness, barely showing themselves.  And when they do, it’s nighttime – blacker than black.  When I glance at one, I can feel it sneering, as though it hates me, intends harm to me.  And I feel scared – afeared.

My dear, Nathaniel, replied, you’re imagining things.

She glared at Nathaniel.  I suppose you ‘ave not seen these – these vermin?  Before?

Aye, dear.  I ‘ave.

Then what do you think they are?  Why are they invading our home?

Nathaniel let out a deep sigh.  I think they are left over from the time of the witch.  And yes, I sense they have evil intentions.  Just what, I don’t know.

Charlotte stood, glaring at Nathaniel; her nostrils flared, eyes protruded.  But then she grimaced.  Those – those ‘things’ are evil.  Wretched, disgusting, evil!

But they haven’t harmed us, my dear.

They’re evil, she spat.  She paused, then uttered, We should leave ‘ere.  As quickly as possible.

His arms at his side, Nathaniel turned his palms up, toward Charlotte.  His lips were drawn tight, but then his face took on a quizzical expression.  Confused, but curious.

What’s that? Charlotte said.

The eclipse.  It’s here ...

The children, where are they!

It was that moment when little Mary dashed into the kitchen.  Mother, she shouted.  Come see.  The sun is going away.

Charlotte lowered herself to Mary’s height and opened her arms.  Come here, my child.

Mary rushed into her arms, then said, The sun.  ‘Tis going away.

Charlotte’s brow furrowed.  Where’s your brother?

He’s outside.  Watching.

Charlotte stood, then held her hand.  Take me to him.

Mary pulled her along the hallway and through the front door.

Outside, Charlotte found Tommy holding up his hand to watch the sun.  She grabbed his hand and said, Come with me.  We must not watch this, we must go inside.

But Mother, Tommy said.

Now, Charlotte replied.  She pulled on both children and led them up the porch steps and into the house.

But why? Mary asked.

Because, my child, looking at the sun can make you go blind.

But Mother, Mary hesitated, what’s happening to the sun?

We call it an eclipse, Charlotte replied.  Then she frowned and continued.  We don’t really know why it’s happening.  But they say it’s dangerous to view it.

Oh, Tommy said, his head pointed down.

So we must all stay inside until it passes.

How long must we stay? Mary asked.

We don’t know that either, Charlotte replied.

Nathaniel stepped into the hallway, walking toward the front door.  He said, Did you see it?

The eclipse? Charlotte replied.

Yes.  He paused.  The children shall remain inside – the eclipse is too dangerous to look at.

Charlotte nodded.  Then said, Do you know how long this will last?

We were talking about it at the General Store.  They said it lasts about 10 minutes.

Everyone stopped talking as they noticed darkness descending.

Come. Let us proceed to the kitchen.  We ‘ave candles there.

The four followed the hallway into the kitchen.  Charlotte lit several more candles.

Take this, she said, handing one to her husband.

The darkness was intensifying, wrapping around them.  They sat on the floor, waiting.  Amazed that in just a few moments, the brightness of day was replaced with the darkness of night.

Seated on the floor with candlelight, casting their faces in flickering shadows, they watched as the darkness enveloped them, encasing them in a dim gray.

That’s when Nathaniel spied a crease of gray in the hallway entrance.  It was suspended mid-air, in the darkness, suggesting that an opening might appear.

He looked at the three, then said, Remain here, you shall.  He arose and approached it.

Standing in front of it, he tried to touch it, and the expanding shadow too.  But his hand passed through it and emerged, intact.

He turned and looked at the three.

What happened? Charlotte said.

Nothing, he replied.  It’s as though it’s not there.

Yet as he talked, the seam expanded, then encompassed him.

Nathaniel! Charlotte shouted.

He looked up toward Charlotte, his eyes wide as he grimaced.  And then his lips drew a tight thin line.

Fear.

He reached out.  In a quivering voice, he said,  Charlotte., my love. Oh, Charlotte.

Charlotte looked on as his form dissolved, evaporating into the ether.

Oh, Nathaniel, she gasped running to him.  She reached out, but all she could touch was air.  Her hand passed through his body.

Nathaniel! she cried.

He was gone; and she fell to her knees, sobbing.

One-Hundred and Twenty Years Later ...Tuesday, January 19, 1926

9:00pm - Lucius, Séance with Maureen

IRECEIVED THE TELEPHONE CALL in the afternoon.  It seems I was referred by a friend to conduct a séance.  Well, actually, it was a friend of a friend, and he wanted me to perform a séance for a particular family; they were friends of his.

The family was having trouble with dark apparitions.  They didn’t know what they were, but they thought they could be dangerous.  At least, that’s what the woman of the house surmised.

And so I agreed to meet with them, tomorrow.

But at this moment, I was en-route to a different client.  I was to help search for the woman’s husband; to facilitate a séance, or maybe hypnosis – or whatever I could do.

Whatever I could do. ...

I was in a mixed frame of mind.  I was feeling sad – for after three years, my wife’s passing still left grief heavy in my heart.  It felt like a lump, hard as stone, immovable.

Yet I was also feeling guilty; for it seems I was not supposed to enjoy living.  I wondered who was channeling that message to me.

And then there was my son – we’d not spoken since his mother passed.  He didn’t say it, but I knew he blamed me; the auto accident that killed her had left me almost unscathed.

My grief ran deep; maybe deeper than I knew.  Thinking back to my younger years, I remember feeling pain buried deep inside me; pain so dark it was a stain on my very soul.  I wondered what it was about – issues so old they evaded my memories, and yet stuck inside of my being.

I thought about it, and I realized it was at the core for much of my life’s struggle.  I wanted to help others – yet in truth, it was a means of covering up the darkness I carried within.

I was suffering, but I hid it well.

My thoughts shifted to the meeting at hand.  The missing husband was also the father of my partner, Maureen Rennik.  She was someone I’d grown close to, because of the cases we worked together.

We’d searched for her father before, even going so far as conducting a séance, yet we couldn’t make contact.  This suggested he’d not passed into the spirit world.

But if not there, then where?  Was he still on planet Earth?

The family had queried the local police, who in turn queried various police departments around the northeastern U.S.  The only lead was his reported corpse in or around Hartford, Connecticut; but the deputy reporting the death held a corpse that was not as tall, suggesting they got it wrong.

Because of this, and because our first séance had yielded questionable results, Mo asked me to conduct another séance.  And so, my mind was in a quandary when I arrived at her home at 7 o’clock in the evening.

It was a dark evening in New England, in January.  Yet I could see enough of the home to know its general appearance:  vintage 19th century, large three-story built out to the sidewalk, and closely nestled among a row of similar homes.  It was located on a side road, off Jackson Street in Salem.

Chuckling at the street name (my name is Lucius Jackson), I stepped out of the Model T and climbed the steps to the front door.  Then I grasped the door knocker and banged it on the door, twice.

The door opened toward the interior, revealing a thirty-something, vivacious redhead.  She smiled at me through bright green eyes, then said, Hello, Lu.  Thanks so much for coming.

Hello, Mo, I replied, removing my hat.  You’re a sight for sore eyes.

She gestured me to enter.

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.  Then I turned and gazed at her.  Red locks cut short with curls hugging her temples, and wearing flapper-style slacks with a loose, low-cut blouse.

May I take your coat? She asked, holding out her hand.

Yes, please, I replied.  I removed my coat and handed it to her.

She hung it in the nearby closet.  Then turned to me and smiled, said, Please, follow me.

As I walked behind her, I shook off the chilly outdoor temperature.  You keep it warm in here.

Better than cold, she replied, smiling.

We walked past the stairwell and entered the dining room.

There were two people seated at the table.  I recognized them both immediately, as we’d participated in a séance before.  I nodded to Mrs. Louise Rennik, Mo’s mother; and Peter Rennik, Bernard’s brother.

Mrs. Rennik was a short woman.  When we first met, I found her to be cheerful; but this time, she was wearing a frown as she hunched over a cup of tea.  Despite her sadness, I found her to be a rather attractive fifty-something woman; yet I sensed she was carrying some kind of unknown burden from life she’d already lived.  But then, aren’t we all?

Her frown turned to a smile as she lifted her eyes toward me.  Then she scanned me to the top of my head, still smiling.  Ahhh, Mr. Jackson.  I’m so glad to see you again.

I nodded to her.  The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Rennik.  How have you been?

I am well, she replied.  Then she gestured toward the man seated next to her.  You remember my husband’s brother, Peter?

My eyes met his as I nodded.  Yes.  I remember very well, I replied.  Then I extended my hand and said, How are you, sir?

He grasped my hand and we shook.  Life is good; I’m pleased to see you again.

His manner suggested he didn’t remember our argument when last we met; and I, for one, was certainly not going to remind him of it!

Mo slipped into a seat while gesturing toward the remaining chair.  Please, sit, she said.  Then with a red face, she sprung out of the chair and said, Where are my manners – Lucius, can I get you something?  Tea, perhaps?

Tea would be wonderful, I replied.

Mo dashed out to the kitchen and quickly returned with a steaming cup of tea.  She placed it in front of me then took her seat in the chair across from me.

I took a sip, then said to her, The last time we had a séance about your father, the results were – ah, shall we say, puzzling? I paused, then said, Why do you think it would turn out differently this time?

She chuckled. Puzzling?  That’s a gentle way of putting it.  She paused.  Er – ah, the last séance took place more than a year ago.  Then several months later, we had that visit from the deputy; you know, the one who said my father’s body was found?

But that was false, I replied.  Wasn’t it?

Yes.  Because the police report was of a corpse who was 66 inches tall; and yet my father is about 72 inches tall.

So, you think he’s still alive?

He could be, but honestly, I don’t know, Mo pleaded.  All I know is we’ve had no luck finding him – in fact, we don’t even have a notion of where he could’ve gone.

None?

No, she replied, shaking her head.  There’s been nothing.

I hesitated, then said, How do you want to proceed?

I was hoping for another séance, she replied.

I glanced at Louise, she was nodding her head.  Then I turned my gaze to