Page 64 of Hell House
“I want your fingers, here. Here. And here.” His gravel voice whispers into my ear.
I smile, moving my fingers away from where he placed them which makes him bark out a laugh.
“You are such a handful.” He places my fingers back where they should be and instructs me to pluck the strings one at a time.
“Why do I know that?” I say, plucking it again.
“It’s the opening toStairway to Heaven.A guitarist’s right of passage is to learn that beginning.”
I pluck them again and he moves my fingers for the next notes in the song. It’s beautiful and haunting, even with my clumsy attempt to play, the music reverberates off my arched ceiling making me lose myself in the sensation of Walker and I and this song.
We get lost in the music as he teaches me actual chords that he insists I study. I hand him back the guitar, not wanting him to leave yet, even though it’s late and I have homework to do.
“Will you play something for me before you go?”
He smiles, strumming out a familiar tune before adding his voice to the song. He playsSweet Creature,by Harry Styles and it floors me. Though it’s not the first time I’ve heard him preform, it still hits me like it is. He’s insanely talented. I feel a sudden anger sweep over me, quick and steady. I want to punch something, rip my very bed apart seam by seam and I don’t know why.
Walker jerks up mid song, his hands clenched into twin fists, his jaw clenched and eyes turning to pitch.
“I have to go.” He practically runs out of my room, and as soon as he clears the first step the feeling of rage dissipates, leaving me empty and utterly exhausted. I rub my temples with my fingers, wondering what the hell that was. But I’ve gotten good at ignoring things lately, choosing to rather shove them in a box.
I tap open my phone and send a text off to Walker, wondering what made him run off like that. I thought we were having fun together.
Me: Thx for the lesson
I wait a moment and see three dots appear and then disappear, twisting my insides as I wait for his reply. The dots appear again and a whoosh fills my hand as his text emoji pops up. A smilie face. Fine. Okay. I’m not going to read into it. It’ll just drive me crazy. I sit back and decide to get my homework out of the way. Fucking boys of Hell House and their twisted ways.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
The Headmaster
This body was cumbersome. I felt it in every creak of his joints as he walked with such effort in every step. It was tedious, but there was nothing to be done about it. We were stuck together, until the time came where I could be free. Just a little bit longer. I urge him across the hidden path, carefully, aware that one wrong step could send his gnarled bones careening toward the twisted rocks below. Then he would be useless to me, and we couldn’t have that. I’d waited far too many years to see my plans be foiled by a twisted ankle.
We finally crest the opening of the cave and I feel my host’s heart speed up in anticipation. I do so love when they’re this willing and obedient. It makes my job that much easier. He absentmindedly checks his watch and I shove down my irritation. What could possibly be more important that what we’re doing. I swear the living had no sense of priorities. I tug hard at the bond tethering us, and he snaps to attention.
That’s right asshole, don’t forget who’s in charge.
He’d recently made the mistake of thinking he could get involved with a woman romantically. As if I’d allow for this sack of sallow skin and bones to be taken out by a sex induced heart attack. Not that she was even remotely interested anyway. His health was skating on thin ice as it was, and I didn’t have time to possess someone so completely and perfectly positioned as he was. He unfortunately was my only option at present who could do what it was I needed. I make a mental note to have him order more green juices with kale.
The time was fast approaching. I let myself feel a wave of excitement, envisioning all my carefully laid plans coming to fruition.
We creep through the cavern, the tide out leaving behind a soft pliant sandy floor. When the tide came back, it would wash away our footprints like we’d never been here.
The girl would never see us coming until it was too late. Getting her to the island had been easy but getting her to fulfill the rest of the spell would take some work.
He checks his watch again and it takes everything in me not to tug on something more vital than our bond.
It really was a tragedy at how people couldn’t seem to hold onto their attention span anymore. I blamed the smartphones. And people thought I was evil. It’s like they’ve never seen social media.
I take over completely, pushing him from front and center, which expels some of my energy, but it can’t be helped. He’s dragging his feet much too much for my liking. I make this body place his hand on the back of the cave wall and lean his head against where I knew the crack existed. I strain his ears to see if I can hear them, but like all the times before, they’re silent. Anger stirs inside of me. I’d make those witches pay for what they’d done to us. They would pay for the years we’d been forced to be separate. The years I’d been left alone in this place.
Through all of my time here scouring the archives, I was able to find a potion that would allow for seven of the strongest to break through the veil. We’d timed it perfectly, but now their hold was weakening. Their time was running out, and if we didn’t succeed in breaking down the veil permanently, they’d be ripped back to purgatory once again. Once we got that little witch to do what she was here for, we’d finally be free.
We make quick work, or as quick as his gnarled hands allow us, sprinkling the rosemary and salt concoction in a perfect circle. We draw a star in the center, connecting the edges of the circle to the star’s points.
Just a little longer, I have the man whisper to the middle of the star. Just a little longer, my loves.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
