the bottom of the window panes, sparkling with
the light of the fire and candles.
The sad truth was that she had nowhere
to go. What money she had was practically gone. She could barely
afford a bed in the cheapest boardinghouse in London, let alone the
fare to get there. Placing herself as a burden on Harry was unfair.
He had no means and would have to use his pocket money to support
her, forgoing even the simplest pleasures. His regard would soon
turn bitter and he might cut ties with her altogether. This house
was all she had, and apparently she needed to fight for
it.
Wearily, she crawled into bed and drew
the blankets up. Alfie's words returned. 'He’ was coming for her.
Who? She searched her mind for the things Mr. Harleston had said.
According to him, there were spirits in this house protecting her.
She prayed for their strength, but also knew that the inherent
implication was that she needed protection.
Chapter 16:
Anne woke in the dark, returning from a
dream full of anxiety and worry. Keeping her eyes closed, she
refused to open them, refused to let anything in the room see that
she was awake. Now the natural assumption was that there was always
something in the room with her. There were no safe places—except
maybe under her blankets.
She just wanted to sleep again,
preferring the horrid dreams to lying there listening to any noise
in the house. She shifted in the bed. She'd been sweating during
the night and now felt clammy and cold. The new spot was cold, but
it would soon warm—better than the damp that would continue to rob
her of warmth.
The bed shifted and Anne froze. There
was a distinct shift as if someone had sat down. With her breath
held, she didn't want to look, but she had to. Peering over the
blankets, she saw nothing, just dark space. Everything was where
she had left it.
A crash sounded on the floor across the room
and she startled. Something had dropped off her desk. Whatever it
was, a piece of it was rolling around the floor.
Anne sat up and she felt the shift again.
Sheer panic flared through her. There was someone there. Maybe
Alfie's warning had been right, maybe 'he' was coming for her, or
maybe Alfie was trying to cause trouble again. Frozen, she couldn't
get her mind to work. It refused to tell her what to do.
A heavy pressure came down on her chest,
pushing her back into the mattress. Desperately, her hands searched
for the source, but there was nothing she could fight, finding cold
air. The pressure was harsh and she felt as if she couldn't
breathe. Her legs kicked, tangled in the blankets. The pressure was
even too hard for her to scream.
Using all her strength, she pulled herself
to the side and fell to the floor, hitting the wooden planks hard.
Again, she couldn't breathe, her lungs aching with the impact.
Without thinking, she pulled herself under the bed, turning onto
her stomach. The pressure hadn't followed her there.
Aching, ragged breaths finally returned and
her lungs burned as if on fire, unable to still her breath as she
wanted to listen to what was in the room. She saw nothing but
darkness.
The idea that these spirits couldn’t
do anything to her was out the window. This spirit had held her so
hard, she couldn't breathe. She felt the plank next to the bed
depress and pure fear made her breath falter. Then nothing, as if
it was waiting for her to emerge, or to do something.
Nothing on God's green earth could
persuade her to leave her hiding place. As she watched another
plank depressed ever so slightly, the wood groaning as though
weight had come down on it. Then nothing. She listened until there
was only ringing in her ears. Her lungs again burned for air, but
she was too scared to breathe.
Shattering glass made her jump sharply, the
sound crashing into her ears. Something else had fallen, or been
thrown. This spirit was intent on destroying all her things. Better
her things than her.
And then banging started. Shutters, doors,
chairs. She didn't know
the light of the fire and candles.
The sad truth was that she had nowhere
to go. What money she had was practically gone. She could barely
afford a bed in the cheapest boardinghouse in London, let alone the
fare to get there. Placing herself as a burden on Harry was unfair.
He had no means and would have to use his pocket money to support
her, forgoing even the simplest pleasures. His regard would soon
turn bitter and he might cut ties with her altogether. This house
was all she had, and apparently she needed to fight for
it.
Wearily, she crawled into bed and drew
the blankets up. Alfie's words returned. 'He’ was coming for her.
Who? She searched her mind for the things Mr. Harleston had said.
According to him, there were spirits in this house protecting her.
She prayed for their strength, but also knew that the inherent
implication was that she needed protection.
Chapter 16:
Anne woke in the dark, returning from a
dream full of anxiety and worry. Keeping her eyes closed, she
refused to open them, refused to let anything in the room see that
she was awake. Now the natural assumption was that there was always
something in the room with her. There were no safe places—except
maybe under her blankets.
She just wanted to sleep again,
preferring the horrid dreams to lying there listening to any noise
in the house. She shifted in the bed. She'd been sweating during
the night and now felt clammy and cold. The new spot was cold, but
it would soon warm—better than the damp that would continue to rob
her of warmth.
The bed shifted and Anne froze. There
was a distinct shift as if someone had sat down. With her breath
held, she didn't want to look, but she had to. Peering over the
blankets, she saw nothing, just dark space. Everything was where
she had left it.
A crash sounded on the floor across the room
and she startled. Something had dropped off her desk. Whatever it
was, a piece of it was rolling around the floor.
Anne sat up and she felt the shift again.
Sheer panic flared through her. There was someone there. Maybe
Alfie's warning had been right, maybe 'he' was coming for her, or
maybe Alfie was trying to cause trouble again. Frozen, she couldn't
get her mind to work. It refused to tell her what to do.
A heavy pressure came down on her chest,
pushing her back into the mattress. Desperately, her hands searched
for the source, but there was nothing she could fight, finding cold
air. The pressure was harsh and she felt as if she couldn't
breathe. Her legs kicked, tangled in the blankets. The pressure was
even too hard for her to scream.
Using all her strength, she pulled herself
to the side and fell to the floor, hitting the wooden planks hard.
Again, she couldn't breathe, her lungs aching with the impact.
Without thinking, she pulled herself under the bed, turning onto
her stomach. The pressure hadn't followed her there.
Aching, ragged breaths finally returned and
her lungs burned as if on fire, unable to still her breath as she
wanted to listen to what was in the room. She saw nothing but
darkness.
The idea that these spirits couldn’t
do anything to her was out the window. This spirit had held her so
hard, she couldn't breathe. She felt the plank next to the bed
depress and pure fear made her breath falter. Then nothing, as if
it was waiting for her to emerge, or to do something.
Nothing on God's green earth could
persuade her to leave her hiding place. As she watched another
plank depressed ever so slightly, the wood groaning as though
weight had come down on it. Then nothing. She listened until there
was only ringing in her ears. Her lungs again burned for air, but
she was too scared to breathe.
Shattering glass made her jump sharply, the
sound crashing into her ears. Something else had fallen, or been
thrown. This spirit was intent on destroying all her things. Better
her things than her.
And then banging started. Shutters, doors,
chairs. She didn't know
Similar Books
