The White Lady by Beth Trissel

Author:Beth Trissel [Trissel, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fiction, new adult, short story, Christmas, ghost, time travel
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2017-09-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

“Second chamber on the right at the end of the hall.” Head up, back straight, Anne led the way down the passage.

Brave girl. Did she have an inkling of what awaited them? Avery barely refrained from shouting ‘Run for your life!’ She’d rather do just about anything than walk through Helen’s door and would spare Anne if she could.

A glance at Stan confirmed he wore his I’ve steeled myself to enter the gates of Hell face. Avery’s expression probably mirrored his. Who gripped whose arm, wasn’t entirely clear. She held to him, and he maintained a firm grasp on her, while supposedly lending gentlemanly support. Neither of them were risking being torn apart.

Dear God. The moaning coming from the other side of Helen’s door was enough to freak anyone out.

“He never returned to me,” repeated in feverish, bed-tossed tones, tolling like a death knell in Avery’s gut. The same utterance that haunted the Burke household every Christmas Eve must have had its creepola beginning here.

Ignus acted as if approaching the chamber of a potential demonic witch was no biggie. However, he didn’t regard Helen in the same impending apocalyptic manner his companions did.

Avery’s hair practically stood on end beneath her inappropriate-for-the-time-period hat. Chills ran to her toes, curled in the black pumps intended for nineteen eighteen, or thereabout. Maybe the trio should head in that general direction, snag Ignus’ dad if he’d been stranded there, and beat it home before the next breaking Helen wave engulfed them. The bloodcurdling shrieks of a banshee couldn’t outdo her in full cry.

The well-worn expression, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,’ came to mind. But when had she been scorned?

Despite the incalculable risk Helen presented, Ignus would never agree to leave before they communed with the poor woman. Wrestling with an evil being was a far more likely outcome of the perilous encounter. But they had to see this mission through. Dang it.

The really strange thing, on top of the other abundant weirdness, is they were nearing Ignus’ present-day abode. When he and his mom remodeled, they’d directed workers to tear down the dividing wall between his bedroom and the adjoining room. The combined space formed his private quarters. In this sense, they were advancing on his own door.

Did his ownership of this part of the house give them an edge over Helen? Possibly, if he asserted himself. Big if.

Anne motioned for them to stop a little beyond the fateful room. “Please wait a moment.” Again, the formerly timid soul displayed unexpected boldness in stepping forward and rapping on the door. “Visitors are here for Miss Helen, Ida. Your father requests your presence downstairs. I’ll sit with her after they leave. You may go.”

“Bless you, Anne. Praise God and all the glorious saints in heaven.” On the tail of this muffled outburst, a young woman opened the door and staggered out. She shut the wooden barrier behind her, sagged against it, and closed liquid brown eyes as if to shut out the horrors within.

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