October 31, 1999--All Hallows Eve

Rollie awoke to the uneasy feeling that, one way or another, today was going to be the day that put an end to what had been happening.  He did not share this feeling with Angie, just as he did not mention that today was the seventieth anniversary of the Powells’ deaths.  And there was no way that he was going to remind her that it was also Halloween. Yet, even so, the mood was subdued as they got ready, both of them thinking about what the day might bring.

They had just finished getting dressed when Neil knocked on the door.  The previous evening, he’d told them that several people he talked to in town had claimed that they’d seen movement and strange lights in the house, but the ghost hunter had said that those reports couldn’t be relied upon since people tended to let their imaginations get away with them when they were in or near a house that was reportedly haunted.  His conversation with Cecilia had sparked his interest, but he again said that it was inconclusive.  Both Rollie and Angie had chosen not to mention the stories about the land being cursed yet.

“So, what are you going to do today,” Angie asked Neil.

The man paused before answering.  “Well, that all depends on you,” he replied, looking at Rollie.

“Me?”  The Aussie had a sudden feeling of apprehension.

Neil nodded.  “I don’t think there’s any point in me going back in there alone to do more scans.  Since these ghosts seem to show themselves, so to speak, only to you, the next logical thing would be for you to go back in the house with me.”

“Rollie, you don’t have to go back in there if you don’t want to,” Angie said quickly.

“Yes, I do, Ange.  I need to get to the bottom of this.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Neil said.

They got breakfast, which Rollie barely ate any of, then went to the house.  Neil got several pieces of equipment from his car.

“All right, this is what we’re going to do,” he announced.  “When we go in there, I want you to tell me everything you feel, see, and hear.  If it gets to be too hard for you, or if you start having trouble, you are to tell me so that we can get out.  Okay?”

“Okay,” the Aussie agreed, his tension growing stronger.  He turned to Angie.  “Maybe you should stay out here.”

“No way, Rol.  I’m staying right with you.”

With Angie holding onto his hand, Rollie followed Neil into the house.  His grip on her hand tightened as they crossed the threshold.

“What do you feel, Rollie?” she asked gently.

“The same as before,” he replied.  “Pain, fear, anger too, Robert’s anger.”

Neil was looking down at the object in his hand.  “No significant EMF readings.”  He swept another piece of equipment around the room, one that looked a little like a gun with no barrel.  “And I’m not finding any cold spots.”

“What does that mean?” Angie asked.

“Well, Rollie could be tuning into the residue, for lack of a better term, of the ghost’s memories.  This entire house could be imprinted with their memories and feelings.”  Neil looked at Rollie.  “Do you feel up to going into the living room?”

The Aussie gave a tight nod.  Letting go of Angie’s hand, he went into the living room, Angie and Neil close behind him.  He had only gone in a few feet when he stopped dead, his face paling.

“Rollie, what is it?” Angie asked quickly.

“Pain,” he replied through clenched teeth.  “It’s stronger.  It--”  He gasped, doubling over.  “Oh, God, it hurts.  It . . . it. . . .”  He sunk to his knees.  Before Angie could reach him, his head lifted.  The eyes that looked at her were full of anguish.  “She doesn’t understand.  She doesn’t understand why he’s doing this,” he cried in a high-pitched voice.  “Why is he hurting his family, being so mean.  He yells at the kids, at her.”  His hand went to his cheek.  “He hit her.  He’d never hit her before, ever.  Why, Robert, why?”

Angie went to the floor beside Rollie and took hold of him.  She looked up at the ghost hunter.  “Do you have anything?” she asked demandingly.

Neil, who had been staring at the Aussie, snapped his gaze to his equipment.  “No, nothing, nothing at all.  I don’t understand this.”

Angie returned her attention to Rollie.  “Come on, Rol.  Get on your feet.  We’ve got to get you out of here.”

Rollie didn’t seem to hear her.  He was mumbling something about making sure that dinner was on the table for Robert.

“Neil, help me get him up.”

Together, they got the Aussie on his feet and out of the living room.  They sat him down on the bottom step of the staircase.  Several seconds passed before he came to his senses.  He put his face in his hands.

“I could feel her so strongly,” he whispered.  “I could hear her thoughts, feel what she was feeling.  She was so sad.  The man she loved had turned into someone she didn’t know, and she didn’t understand why.”  He looked up at Neil.  “Did you get anything?”

“No.  I don’t know what caused that, but there were no ghosts in this room.”

“Then what the hell is going on here?!” Angie exclaimed angrily.

“I wish I knew,” the ghost hunter said helplessly.  “I’ve never encountered anything like this before.  I simply don’t know what to make of it.”

“Tell him about the cellar and what the librarian said,” Rollie instructed Angie wearily.

Angie told Neil about what they’d found in the cellar and the stories of the land being cursed.  By the time she finished, Rollie was on his feet.

“If there’s something else here, could it be affecting your equipment, keeping it from getting any readings?” he asked.

“What do you mean ‘something else’?  What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know!  If I knew, don’t you think I’d do something about it?”  Rollie turned to glare into the living room.  His will hardening, he abruptly strode into the room, heading straight for the place he most desperately did not want to be in there.

“Rollie, no!” Angie cried.

Not heeding her call, Rollie stepped into the corner where the two youngest children died, placing his hands on the wall.  A hurricane of terror and pain hit him full-force, ripping away his sanity.  With a cry, Rollie slid down the wall to the floor, pressing himself back into the corner.

“Mommy!  Mommy!” he screamed again and again, his voice that of a small child’s.  He then let out a high, keening wail, which soon became a raw scream of terrible pain.

“Rollie!” Angie cried, running to him.  She watched in horror as he crumpled to the floor and began convulsing.

“Neil, help me!” she yelled.  The ghost hunter was there in an instant.  They dragged Rollie out of the corner, then completely out of the living room.

For nearly half a minute, the convulsions continued to rack Rollie’s body, then he grew still, the rise and fall of his chest the only indication that he was alive.

“Do you want me to call an ambulance?” Neil asked in a shaky voice.

“I don’t know.  Last time, after I performed CPR, he was okay.  But the convulsions were a lot worse this time.  He--”  She broke off at the faint sound of a groan from Rollie.  The Aussie’s eyelids fluttered, then opened.

“Angie,” he croaked.

“I’m right here, Rol.”  She grabbed hold of his hand.

Rollie’s face suddenly drained of all color.  He yanked away from her and scrambled away a few feet on his hands and knees, where he began to vomit.  His whole body trembling violently, he continued to retch until there was nothing left to come up.  Utterly drained of energy, Rollie felt Angie gently grasp his shoulders and pull him back until he was nearly laying in her lap.  She pushed the sweat-soaked hair from his brow and wrapped her arms around him.

“You’re okay, Rollie.  It’s okay now,” she whispered, as if speaking to a frightened child.

A sob caught in Rollie’s throat, followed by another.  Soon, he was crying helplessly, clinging to Angie tightly, his face buried in her shirt.  Angie held onto him, ignoring her own tears, which fell silently down her face.

It was a while before Rollie quieted.  He stayed pressed against Angie for several seconds longer, then slowly lifted his head.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

“No.  No, I’m not.  But I’ll survive,” the Aussie replied in a hoarse voice.  He sat up fully, wiping the wetness from his face.  He looked around.  “Where’s Neil?”

Angie looked behind her to see that the ghost hunter was gone.  The front door was slightly ajar.  “I think he went outside.”  She turned back to Rollie.  “Are you strong enough to stand?”

Rollie nodded.  With Angie’s help he struggled to his feet.  He stood swaying for a moment, holding onto her shoulder.

“I think I can walk now,” he said.

With Angie’s arm around his waist, Rollie went outside.  Neil was several yards away, his back to them, staring up at the sky.

“Let’s sit you down on the steps,” Angie suggested.  Agreeing, Rollie let her settle him on the porch steps.  Neil had turned around to watch them.  He came forward.

“Are you all right, Rollie?” he asked.

“Not really, but I will be.”

The ghost hunter’s gaze fell to the ground for a moment, then back up to him.  “I am so sorry,” he said.  “Angie told me what happened to you before, but I didn’t realize that. . . .  I just didn’t imagine that it was that bad.  I should never have asked you to go back in that house.”

“I could have refused, Neil,” the Aussie told him.  “And you weren’t the one who made me go into that corner.  That was my choice.”

“Why did you do that, Rollie?” Angie asked.  “You must have known what it would do to you.”

“I wanted answers.  I hoped that I would drive something out, make it reveal itself.”

“Are you up to talking about what happened?” Neil asked hesitantly.

Rollie stared at the ground between his feet.  “I was them, both of them, James and the littlest one, Mary.  Mary didn’t understand what was happening.  She was just terrified.  She was barely more than a baby.  James, he . . . he. . . .  Oh, God.  He . . . I watched Robert beat Hannah to death with the poker.  Then he killed Rebecca.  She was already unconscious on the floor.  She never even knew that she was going to die.  And then, he . . . he came toward me, toward us.  There was blood all over the poker.  It was dripping on the floor.  He raised it up above our heads, and. . . .”  Rollie stopped, shuddering.

“Shh.  You don’t have to say anymore,” Angie told him, rubbing her hand up and down his back.  She turned to Neil.  “Do you have any idea at all what’s going on here?”

The man shook his head.  “This is beyond anything I’ve ever encountered.  All the ghosts I’ve confronted, all the situations I’ve been in, I have never seen a spirit do what those in there are doing to Rollie.  This is more than just a haunting.  It’s something I have no word for.  And, quite frankly, it has me terrified.”

“What should we do?”

“Burn the house to the ground,” Neil told her.  “Close off this entire area so that nobody can get in here.”

“What if that isn’t enough?” Rollie asked.  “What if it makes things worse?  Whatever this thing is, it’s isolated to the house right now.  If the house is gone, it might . . . spread.”

Angie felt a chill at Rollie’s words.  What if he was right?

“Then the only other thing to do is board up the house completely, all the windows and doors, keep people from getting in there.” Neil said.

“Which isn’t going to keep some teenager from breaking in on a dare,” Rollie pointed out.  “We need to find out what this is and try to put an end to it.”

“How, Rollie?” Angie asked.  She knew that he was right, but how do you go about stopping something you don’t even understand?

“I don’t know.  Maybe we can find some answers on the Internet, or maybe there’s a book with some clue.”

Neil nodded.  “You said that the Native Americans had some legends of this area.  I noticed a book store in town with books on Native American culture and beliefs.  That might be a good place to start.”

“And I can get on the Net and do a search,” Angie said.  She looked at Rollie, who appeared about ready to collapse.  “You need to get some rest, Rol.  Neil and I can handle this part of it.”

They all went back to the motel.  Fussing over him like a mother, Angie got Rollie into bed.  She then went outside with Neil.

“I really am sorry, Angie,” the man said.  “If I had known this was going to happen, I would not have taken Rollie into that house.”

“It’s not your fault, Neil.”

“You can’t let him go back in there.”

“Yeah, I know.  It just keeps getting worse and worse.  It’s almost killed him twice now.  If it happened again, it could be too much for him.  As it is, I wish he’d let me take him to a doctor to check him out.  But I know Rollie.  He’d refuse to go.”  She glanced at the closed door.  “I want him to rest undisturbed.  Would you mind if I used your room while you’re gone?”

“No, not at all.”  Neil fished the key out of his pocket and handed it to her.  “If I don’t find anything at the book store, I’ll go to the library.  This town is so small, though.  We may have to go to a bigger city to find the resources we need.”

The ghost hunter left for the library, and Angie crept quietly back into hers and Rollie’s room.  The Aussie was fast asleep, huddled under the covers.  Gazing down at him for a long moment, Angie made a silent promise to him and to herself that she’d do everything in her power to protect him and stop what was happening.  She wrote a brief note and placed in upon the night stand, then gathered up her computer and exited the room.

A distant voice whispered to Rollie, words in a language he did not understand.  He felt the power of the words, ancient beyond imagining.  They wormed their way into his brain, growing in strength.  The fire of them began burning along his synapses, images, sounds, emotions, alien and indescribable.  His mind reeled from it, recoiling.  He fought to escape, clawing upward out of the blackness that was filling him. . . .

A cry ripping from his throat, Rollie sat bolt upright, wild-eyed with panic.  When he realized that he was in the motel room, his muscles relaxed.  For long minutes, he sat there, hugging his knees to his chest, his face hidden against his legs.  At last, he lifted his head and looked about.  The room was empty.

Rollie spied a piece of paper on the stand beside the bed.  The note, written in Angie’s handwriting, told him that she was in Neil’s room, searching the Internet for any information she could find.  Rollie stared at the note for a long time, then his eyes went to the window.  All at once, he knew that Angie was not going to find anything that would help them.  And, with that knowledge came another realization.

With a feeling of fatality, Rollie rose and put his shoes on.  He then got a piece of paper and sat down at the table.

 Dear Angie,

 I know now what I must do.  The answer isn’t going to be found in a book or on the Internet.  It is there, in that house, and I’m the only one who can find it.  Please don’t be angry with me.  This is something I have to do.  There will never be any peace for me, and the danger will never end if I don’t do this.

 I love you, Angie.  Always remember that.

 Yours forever,

 Rollie

Placing the note against the lamp on the night stand, Rollie got the car keys and walked out the door.