Messanie Hill

By KG Farrell

Nick and Julianne Sullivan had never dreamt of such a home. An old hilltop mansion perfect for their growing family. However, with age comes history and sometimes history can come back to haunt you!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 3, 2016
• ISBN: 9781365581397

Book preview

Messanie Hill

Messanie Hill

by: KG Farrell

Thank you to my family for being so excited when I mentioned writing a new book. Special thanks to Chad and Lee Ann for their help in editing and keeping me on task during the process. I love you guys.

Prologue

At the precise moment he turned out the bathroom light, Nick heard a loud crash come from the lower level of their new home. At first, he couldn’t determine the direction of the sound, but then a rustling came from the direction of the northern stairs. He immediately thought of the rear door that opened into the kitchen. The intruder, he wondered. Could he be back?

He stood in the doorway of his bathroom for a few seconds, wondering what he should do. He looked at the two enormous German Shepherds lying curled around his sleeping wife’s feet. Even in the shadowy darkness he could see that their ears were on full alert, and both were looking at the open bedroom door.

He moved toward the door and gave a flick of his fingers, a quiet hand signal that told the dogs to come to him. They slipped softly down from the bed and moved instantly behind him waiting for his next command.

He looked back at his wife Julianne, wondering for a moment if he should wake her. Best to let her sleep, he decided. Very pregnant and almost due, her nights of sleeping eight solid hours were numbered. Soon enough she would be getting up at all hours of the night to nurse the babies. 

The realization that he had to protect all of them sent a shiver down his spine. He stood a little straighter, kept his hand at his side, palm open wide, directly in front of the male dog. It was the signal for ‘heal.’ One of many hand-signals the retired police dogs knew.

They followed him to the right, down the hall towards the back stairs. As he passed each of the three bedrooms to his right, he poked his head in the door listening for sounds above or below him. He moved on from room to room, hearing only silence and the sound of the dogs breathing.

Nothing was out of place, the windows were shut and everything was quiet but Nick was getting more and more tense. He felt like something was about to happen. He could feel the electricity building in the air. It felt heavy, or thick perhaps. His instincts were sending rivers of adrenaline through his veins. He glanced into the bathroom at the end of the hall and then continued toward the stairs.

His spine became taught, an odd pressure seeped between his shoulder blades as though someone was boring holes with their eyes. He stopped and turned around several times, listening for any sound, even a quiet breathing but no one was there.

Apparently, the dogs sensed it too. The male was pushing his wet nose into Nick’s palm, urging him forward as they came to the top of the stairs. An uneasy feeling came over Nick as he made his way into the darkened stairwell but he didn’t dare turn on the light.

The dogs were grunting impatiently, waiting for his signal to proceed. He motioned for their silence but they were not responding. The female gave a long low growl in her throat. He gave the signal for silence but he wasn’t sure she could see him in the dark and he didn’t want to risk even a quiet verbal command.

There were sounds coming from the kitchen. Nick paused at the halfway point, listening. Something had just changed but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. It wasn’t until the dogs went quiet that he realized he couldn't hear the fridge running, or the heater running or the buzz of the fish tank. The power had failed. It wasn’t a particularly amazing event in an old house, or even all that unusual, but immediately he knew something was wrong.

A slight chill enveloped him. Nick only had a split second to notice it before an enormous bang echoed loudly up the stairwell. He flinched at the sheer volume of the sound. He almost dropped the flashlight and he involuntarily jerked his hand from in front of the dogs. It was the signal they had been waiting for. They were down the last few steps like bolts of lightening, faster than Nick could decide if it was a good idea.

His eyes had been on his feet as he moved through the unfamiliar darkness but now Nick raised his eyes toward the doorway at the bottom of the stairs. What he saw made his heart stutter as it began to quicken its pace.

Seeping into the stairwell was an odd blue light. It looked as though it filled the kitchen, yet it was not overly bright.  It barely spilled onto the stairs.  The light had a sort of neon glow but somehow seemed to have substance.

His scalp became taught as the hairs on the back of his neck rose straight up. His arms covered with goose bumps. The air was getting colder. Nick hesitated, oddly wondering if he would feel the light when he walked into it.

Just as his brain was processing the appearance of the light, and the thickness of it, the dogs began growling and barking.  The ferocity of their alert was out of character for them.

Fearing they might be in danger, he burst around the corner into the kitchen. He slid his thumb quickly over the switch on the flashlight, which he had poised over his shoulder, hoping to blind the intruder.  He saw no one but just as he moved, he heard the low tinny whine of electricity building.  At first, he pictured and old fashioned flash bulb warming up. Then he thought stun gun?

Before he could even take another step, there was a loud clack! Nick felt a jolt and fell to his knees. The flashlight clattered to the floor but remained lit. He couldn’t move to grab it.

Atlas, the male dog gave an uncertain whimper. Asia, the female, went instantly silent. Nick could hear both sets of dog paws clicking across the floor in a hasty retreat. He forced his arm to retrieve the flashlight.  Just as he found them with the beam of light, the thin blue light blinked out and the power came back on, the kitchen florescent blazing to life. 

He threw up a hand to shield his eyes from the harshness of it. As the room came into focus, he saw both of the dogs, sitting a few feet away and looking uncertainly at him. They were disturbed by the incident and were waiting for his next command.

The pain of the jolt left as quickly as it came. He scrambled to his feet. He glanced around the room, nothing was out of place. The kitchen had two doors, one leading to the back patio, and one leading to the carport at the front of the house.  They were both still bolted and chained, completely in tact. Nothing in the kitchen had been disturbed.

Except me, he thought. Am I sleepwalking? Was that a dream? Did I get shocked or was that a badly timed muscle spasm?

The chill had gone from the air but Nick’s skin still had a cold crawl spreading across it.  He didn’t know what had just happened. He felt a bead of sweat drip down his back and it felt a little too much like a finger running down his spine.

It was all it took to convince him to head back up to his sleeping wife. He gave the dogs the signal to once again heal and he headed back up the stairs.  He felt a little guilty about making them stay in back, but if anything came up the stairs behind them, the dogs with their sharp teeth and powerful jaws, were better equipped for combat that he was. 

He slowed his pace a little bit as he reached the top of the stairs.  He glanced across the landing at the bottom of the attic stairs.  He could only see the first couple of steps before they curved up to the left and out of sight.

He couldn’t hear any sounds, or see any movement, but he could smell the attic. It had a pungent dusty smell that was very distinct. He remembered the Realtor mentioning an attic fan might be of some use as they had passed the point on the tour. He had barely heard a word of it. 

The attic smell had creeped him out even then. He knew the history of the house. A wave of regret and humility washed over him. He hadn’t told his wife. She had fallen so in love with the property the moment she had seen the peaking rooflines, elaborate molding and majestic stained glass. It wouldn’t have mattered how ugly the interior was, she knew from the front drive that she wanted it.

There was no way to know if Julianne would have still wanted to move into the house if she had known the truth. She was more open minded than he was.  He was born and bred New York. He didn’t believe in nonsense and he hadn’t wanted to pass up the chance to have a huge back yard. He’d had no idea how big a single yard could be. He had lived in the concrete jungle of The Bronx all his life. So he told the Realtor that they had discussed it and decided it was poppycock.

It was the reason he didn’t wake Julianne when he heard the high pitched whine coming from the lower level of the house. What if? The words whispered in the back of his mind. He didn’t want to believe in the paranormal. With a determined sniff he decided whatever happened in the kitchen was the work of living people.

Nick raced passed the smelly attic stairs and back to the bedroom at the end of the long hall. The dogs were hot on his heals sensing his renewed anxiety. The bedroom door was shut when he reached it. He had definitely left it open. With a jolt of panic he grabbed the knob and twisted but it would not turn. He tightened his grip and tried as hard as he could to turn the ornate cut crystal. The polished angles cut into his hand but it still would not budge.

He turned his efforts toward forcefully opening the door rather than turning the knob.  He shook it hard on its hinges. The dogs joined in to his frenetic energy and began clawing at the door, wildly sniffing at the cracks. He could hear Julianne calling his name on the other side.

Nick? He could hear the alarm in her voice. Nick, where are you?

Here Julianne!  I am here but you have to help me open the door! He waited for her reply but none came.

Julianne?  Can you hear me? Julianne! Nick began to really panic.  His wife was alone in the room! He began shoving the door with his shoulder while he clutched at the knob. He took a couple of steps back and rushed the door. It popped open and he and the dogs went sprawling into the room all at once.

He had fallen to the floor as he had come through the door but had practically bounced back up and onto the bed. Julianne lay silent, her face extremely pale and her lips had a slight bluish tint to them.

Jules? The alarm in his voice was obvious even to him. Honey? Wake up!

Dear God something is wrong with my wife!

Chapter One

It was magnificent. It had that feel right away. Not just a house, but a home. It was alive with regal character and grand essence. None of the things Julianne had listed under ‘dream home’ but this place was more than she had allowed herself to imagine.

It had been built in 1865, commissioned by the architect who had, along with another man designed most of St. Joseph.  At that time the small Missouri town was just a few blocks long in any one direction, with the streets being named after the children of Joseph Robidoux, the man who founded the town in 1843.

It was a green, hilly paradise that made hard working traders and cattlemen into millionaires, in a day and age when a million dollars were more than any one person could spend. Though looking at the ornate stained glass windows and the grand detail that was put into this house, it would seem to Julianne that the architect had certainly tried.

She could only imagine, with such exquisite design outside, what would be waiting for them on the inside. She and Nick were a few minutes early for their meeting with the Realtor, and they were currently sitting in the long gravel driveway gaping at it through the windows of their silver Grand Cherokee. It was warm for a March day and they had the windows rolled down.

My God. Her tone was one of whispery awe. Just look at those windows. I never dreamt of owning a home like this. Are you sure it was listed within our budget?

Nick smiled at his cautious wife. Funny, I asked the Realtor the same thing. Apparently it was a foreclosure and has been empty for years.  The bank is looking to unload it.

"Oh Nick! I