The Castle-Town Tragedy and Other Tales of Carnacki, the Ghost-Finder by Brandon Barrows

Author:Brandon Barrows
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Dunhams Manor Press
Published: 2017-05-28T22:00:00+00:00

The area, and myself, prepared, I switched off my light and in the darkness made several snaps with the camera, the flash mechanism illuminating the area for a fraction of a second each time and giving me a queer sensation of experiencing those moments as a series of photos within my mind. After I’d had done with the camera, I settled down to sit ‘lotus-style’, as Easterners say, within the pentacle and wait. For what, I could not have said, but I had an extraordinary feeling, almost a premonition, that something peculiar was going to happen. And very soon at that.

An hour or more passed in absolute silence. The entire house, it seemed, was enveloped in a vast bubble of darkness and quietude that I fancied would remain unbroken until I took some sort of action and the longer I waited, the more I could feel a change in the energy about the place. It was as if I was not the only thing that didn’t belong and I could sense a sort of hostility permeating the aura of the house, moving in and washing over me like the tide does a lonely, isolated stretch of beach. It was a singular notion, I’ll tell you, though probably not that strange when you take into account that I was in the dark, in utter stillness, in the middle of a room reputed to be haunted. Certainly, it was a situation I’d been in before and I’ve had more than any two or three men’s combined fair share of the supernatural, but I am still just a man at that, and I am only a little more immune to ‘the creep’ than anyone else. In that total, oppressive darkness, I can assure you I felt it quite strongly.

I was interrupted from this curious train of thought by a feeling I was more familiar with: that I was suddenly not alone in the room. I could see nothing in the pitch-blackness, for the night was overcast and not even a sliver of moonlight entered the room’s small windows, but didn’t dare flick on my light. Controlling my breathing so as to minimize even the slightest noise I might have made, I went stock-still and listened intently. For several minutes, I heard nothing and was just beginning to convince myself that I had imagined any disturbance when I finally caught a very faint sound that I could neither pinpoint the origin of nor definitely classify.

I strained my ears to their absolute limits and doing so, decided that it was coming from somewhere out in the hallway. It was only intermittent, however—very slow and faint as if far away, though I was sure it was becoming incrementally louder as I listened. It came to me of a sudden that the sound was like that of someone crawling on their belly an inch at a time—swish… bump; swish… bump—along the floor or perhaps with their back pressed to a wall, but I still could not tell from where it was coming.

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