The Haunting Of Bechdel Mansion (16 page)

She placed her plate in the sink and turned
toward the refrigerator on the other side of the room. After a few
steps, she felt something sleek and slippery on the tile floor
below her slippers.

She looked down in the dim light. There were
streaks on the floor. Her eyes squinted and she could make out the
color red.

More red paint?

The thought was scary enough in itself. She
took a careful step forward and heard a distant moan that caused
the hairs to stand up on the back of her neck. She continued on,
nearing central counter with pots and pans hanging from the cabinet
above. She looked down and followed the red trail as the moaning
persisted.

Just around the counter, she saw a figure
slowly moving across the floor. She gasped and covered her mouth
trembling. A few feet ahead of her crawled a man on his stomach
with a large hole blasted in his back. His black suit was tattered,
torn, and soaked with blood. His organs were hanging out, his
intestines dragging on the floor. She could only see the back of
his head as pulled one arm in front of the other with feeble,
shaking movements.

“
Oh my God…” she said, reaching for
her cell phone. The trail of blood went from the sink of to the
other signs as the man slowly crawled away from her, moaning in
agony. Her legs had locked into place, paralyzed with fear. Her
cell phone fell from her hand and smacked onto the ground in a
puddle of blood.

She went immediately to the floor, crouched
down, unsure if she was going to call 9-1-1 or Curtis first. She
grabbed the blood-soaked phone as it slipped out of hand and slid
across the tile, just out of reach. Warmness streamed down her
cheeks when she suddenly realized that she was crying.

“No. No. No,” she repeated to herself
closing her eyes. She hoped that when they opened the grotesque
sight would be gone. “Go away,” she said softly.

Then, as if an earthquake had shaken the
ground and everything on it, the kitchen came alive with one
explosive and sweeping gust that sent each and every cabinet open
in loud, deafening burst that sent Mary reeling to the slippery
ground. Plates crashed and shattered into pieces. Pots flew into
the wall. The refrigerator flew open, sending its contents smashing
onto the ground. A dizzying white flash followed as Mary tried to
stand, forcing her back down. Her forehead smacked against the tile
and she felt blood trickling down her face.

“
No!”
she screamed at the top of her lungs. She struggled again to
get up as the disorienting cacophony of pots, pans, plates, and
glasses crashed all around her. After one final heave, she made it
to her feet and vaulted out the kitchen, slipping on blood and
staggering down the hall, not looking back.

Her piercing screams echoed through the
house as she stormed down the hall past rooms where doors slammed
shut like guillotines hoping to snare her in. By the time she made
it to the foyer, sweaty, petrified, and pale with terror, she was
greeted with the sight of the grandfather clock in its original
spot, bells blaring and blood bubbling from inside, from top to
bottom. Both chairs suddenly flew toward her like guided
missiles.

She jumped out of the way and slid across
the hardwood floor as both crashed into the wall in a startling
bang. She looked up to see the chandeliers swaying wildly with
their bulbs flashing at their brightest. Doors slammed shut in
unison all around her. Moaning continued. A barrage of insects
scattered across the walls around her. Hanging pictures crashed to
the ground. In the distance, the kitchen table flew across the
dining room and pummeled into the wall.

Mary slipped and fell to her knees, feeling
trapped and pinned to the ground. Thick blood spewed from the
grandfather clock like a geyser, soaking the ceiling in its
reddened flow.

“
What do you want?”
she screamed.

A loud bang suddenly came against the
front door, startling her further. Her head whipped around, staring
at the exit and trying to build the nerve to run.
Was this it for her? Had the house finally come
alive to take her away?

Crouched down with her palms flat against
the floor, sweat ran down her forehead creating a puddle below. She
looked up to see a blinding white light at the end of the
staircase. Within that light, she saw the shape of a young girl.
Her face was hollow and pale with her cheeks sunken in and black
eyes without a smidgen of white. She was barefoot and dressed in a
nightgown.

“
Please…” the girl pleaded. “You have
to help me!”

Mary felt tremors through her body, shaking
her in spastic, relentless measures. “Who-who are you?” she asked
in a strained voice.

“
Don’t leave me. Please don’t be
afraid,” the girl said.

Mary fell flat on her stomach as her own
body weight tripled and pushed her to the ground. Another flash of
white and she felt a sharp pain in her jaw from smacking against
the floor.

“
Tell me what you want!” she tried to
yell as blood oozed from her mouth.

“
You know who I am,” the girl said.
“I’m Julie Bechdel.” Before she could say another word, the girl
looked up in terror and then screamed, instantly imploding into
nothing. And then she was gone.

The pounding on the door continued. The
house shook at its very foundation like the aftershock of an
earthquake. Mary wasn’t sure if she’d make it out alive, but with
one fresh gasp of air she flew forward onto her feet and hurdled
toward the front door like an Olympic track star. The grandfather
clock tipped over and crashed in front of the door, blocking her,
and pouring human organs and limbs from its top, scattering them
across the foyer.

She jumped over the clock without a second
thought and smacked hard against the front door as the pounding
continued. He knees and back ached. Her frequent dizziness returned
to her with full force, making it near impossible to clutch the
door handle and push it open. She screamed and rose up as heat
engulfed her like an unseen fire. Her hands went to the door handle
and yanked it open, screaming in terror as light hit her face,
blinding her.

She ran out of the house, colliding directly
with a man who caught her and held her tightly.

“Hey there! Listen to me. Calm down!”

She shook and thrashed and tried her best to
move, but the man’s grip was impenetrable. “Let me go! Let me go!”
she shouted repeatedly.

“Mary please listen to me!” the man
pleaded.

Darkness came over her as the light in her
eyes went away. She looked up, trembling. Pastor Phil’s face looked
down at her as they nearly stumbled down the steps. She didn’t know
what to say. She looked down at herself. She was sweaty and shaken,
but there was no blood all but the cut on her forehead.

“Goodness, Mary. What happened?”

Too stunned to response, she looked inside
the house as the front door swayed open. There was no clock. No
organs. No gore splattered across the hardwood floor. But it was
all too much. She could feel her mind slipping away by the second.
Her heart beat like a jackhammer within her chest. That part was
real enough, so was the sweat covering her drenched body.

“The house…” she said in a trembling voice.
“It… it came alive. I’m not crazy…”

“
I know you’re not, Mary. Why do you
think I had ol’ Jerry Hadley paint a red cross on your
door?”

She looked up, speechless with her shock
growing.

“
We have to keep the spirits
contained,” he said, holding a flashlight and dressed with in
simple blue jeans, T-shirt, and jacket.

“You…” she said, pulling away and enraged.
Phil let her go as she stared him down, eyes furious and finger in
his face. “You knew all about this house, and didn’t tell us.”

Phil took a defensive step back with his
hands in the air. “Not everything. Just some things. I didn’t think
it’d get this bad, but now things are different.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Can’t
you do anything? This house needs an exorcist!”

“The secrets of the Bechdel mansion must
stay buried for Redwood to survive,” Phil said. “That’s just the
way it is. That’s the way it’s always been.”

“I don’t care. I’m not living here any
longer,” she said with venom in her tone. “Now I want you off my
property. Now.”

“It’s too late,” Pastor Phil said. “The
house has chosen you for a reason, especially now that…” He
suddenly stopped, raising Mary’s immediate suspicion.

“
Now that
what?
” she said, seething. Upon his hesitation, she
stepped forward, pushing him out of the way.

“You can’t run!” Phil said. “No matter where
you go, the spirits will follow you. They chose you.
Understand?”

Mary stopped and turned around, prepared to
get as far away from the mansion as she could and never turn back.
However, there was something to his words, proof that the madness
she had experienced wasn’t entirely in her head.

“Why did they chose me?” she said, slowly in
a stern tone.

“That little girl. The Bechdel kid. Julie.
She wants your help. The others. Well they want something else
entirely.”

“Enough,” she said, swinging her arms
downward. “I can’t take any more of this.”

“The house…” Phil began. “It knows you’re
pregnant.”

Mary swung her head up, staring at him with
her mouth agape. “What are talking about?”

“It knows… And your baby is in grave
danger.”