The Doll Read online

  They sat in silence for a minute listening to a low hum emanating from behind the fabric.

  ‘Are you going to look?’ ventured Sybil.

  ‘No. Are you?’ countered Queenie.

  ‘No.’

  They watched as the material covering the mirror lifted and fell gently as though somebody was breathing behind it. The low murmuring continued, rising and falling with the movement of the fabric. As they watched, the room became even colder and the light dimmed over their head.

  Sybil shivered.

  ‘What is that?’ asked Queenie, head on one side.

  ‘I don’t know but I don’t like it.’

  ‘Let’s just find this receipt and get out of here!’ Queenie riffled impatiently through the last pieces of paper and then pounced on a black and white photograph. ‘Here it is!’ she exclaimed in relief and turned it over. Scrawled on the back was a description of the doll, the price and where Emma had bought it. ‘Dedannan Antiques, where is that?’

  ‘It’s at the bottom of London Road, just before the traffic lights,’ said Sybil, quickly rising to her feet. ‘Now can we go?’ ’ She held out her hand to Queenie who was still sitting on the bed. ‘Do you need a hand up, old girl?’

  ‘I’ll give you old girl,’ muttered her sister and batted the hand away. ‘Even the picture is ugly,’ exclaimed Queenie, examining the photograph. ‘And she paid fifty pounds for it!’

  ‘It must be valuable I suppose, these things are quite rare.’

  Queenie snorted. ‘I could think of better things to spend fifty pounds on.’

  Sybil took her arm and pulled her sister towards the door. ‘Yes, yes, of course you could, now let’s go.’

  Pulling back the sleeve of her fleece Queenie consulted her wristwatch. ‘Is it too late to visit the antique shop?’

  ‘I would say yes to anything if it gets you out of this room! But it’s probably too late, it’s gone five.’

  ‘Damn, first thing in the morning then. You are staying tonight, aren’t you?’ she appealed to her sister.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I shall take this to jog their memory,’ she said clutching the photo on her hand. ‘I’m sure Patricia won’t mind.’ She gave the mirror one last look. ‘We have what we came for, and I will be glad to get out of here,’ said Queenie and started walking quickly towards the door. ‘I wonder if they have made the tea yet?’

  They were halfway to the door when a grating noise came from behind them and they turned to see the nail holding the mirror slowly work its way out of the wall. The heavy framed looking glass toppled forward and landed with a crash onto the wooden floorboards. There was a hideous cracking noise as the glass split in two.

  The two women jumped back as a shard of the mirror slid from beneath the cloth and lay on the floor. Reflected in it was a seething black mass that moved slowly over the surface. The humming noise became louder and the shard began to crack into a myriad of spidery lines.

  ‘Time to go.’ Queenie said quickly and grasping Sybil’s arm began pull her towards the door. They started as several large black flies appeared out of nowhere and began buzzing around their heads. The noise of the droning wings grew louder and louder, and Queenie looked behind in amazement as the dark shape within the mirror began to manifest into a monstrous swarm of flies. They began to creep through the cracks of the glass until thousands of them had appeared in the room and the air was thick with buzzing flies.

  They turned back towards the door.

  ‘Out Sybil!’ shouted Queenie, pushing her forward but Sybil couldn’t move.

  The flies had made a beeline for the two women, swarming down onto Sybil’s head making it impossible to see. She coughed and spluttered as the flies crawled into her mouth and up her nose, tangling in her hair and clothes while all the time the buzzing grew louder and louder until they could hardly hear themselves think.

  Dropping to her knees Sybil dragged the front of her cardigan across her face and began to grope blindly for the door. ‘Queenie!’ she coughed, realising her sister wasn’t following she reached back and tugged on Queenie’s ankle. ‘This way.’

  The door opened letting in a shaft of bright light which momentarily dispersed the swarming insects.

  ‘The tea is ready...’ Paul called cheerfully then caught sight of the swarm and Sybil on all fours in front of the door. ‘What’s going on?’ his voice rose in horror at the sight of Queenie flailing wildly at the flies attempting to land on her head.

  ‘Get out Paul!’ Queenie blundered past him dragging her sister who was still blinded by the crawling insects.

  He backed against the door watching in wide eyed disbelief as the huge flies began to gather in the centre of the room. The swarm grew larger and larger as he watched.

  ‘Paul! Shut the door!’ ordered Queenie.

  Ignoring her, Paul began hurriedly searching his pockets as they began to swarm towards him. As the flies pitched and started crawling over his face his hand closed on the cross. He shook his head free of the insects and held it out in front of him. ‘I command you in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ to leave this house. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost!’ He jumped forward and thrust the golden cross straight into the middle of the approaching cloud of flies. It broke apart as soon as the crucifix came close and the insects scattered to settle on the walls and ceiling, they began to crawl doggedly towards the centre of the room to form into another swarm. The entire surface of the ceiling was soon covered in a moving mass of black insects. At its centre a pulsating mound started to grow, and the thousands of insects merged into one lump pouring down onto to the floor like a lump of oozing tar. As it touched the wooden floor boards a strange figure began to form out of the mass.

  ‘What the hell...!’ he cried.

  ‘Paul!’ said Queenie, tugging at the back of his jacket. ‘Get out!’ She scrabbled for the door handle meaning to slam it as soon as he had stepped out of the room.

  ‘No, Queenie,’ he said, voice wavering. ‘I haven’t finished. This is the Devils’ work.’

  ‘Of course it is!’ she grunted, wrapping her arms around his middle and pulling at him with all her strength.

  The room darkened even further leaving the misshapen creature alone in the middle of the room. Behind it a red glow came from the cracked mirror giving enough light to see human like features appearing in the dense accumulation of insects.

  ‘What is that?’ he asked in a horrified voice.

  ‘You don’t want to know,’ said Queenie bluntly and with one last tug pulled him out of the room. She slammed the door and placed both hands on the wood as it shuddered under the sudden pounding from the other side.

  ‘You will not pass through this door, foul spirit, I command you to leave this house!’ Her words were swiftly followed by a thundering crash that threw Queenie backwards. Her arms flailed as she tried to regain her balance and just in time Paul snatched at her hand before she toppled backwards down the stairs.

  ‘If you know any more prayers Vicar,’ she gasped, thankfully clutching his arm. ‘Now would be the time to use them.’

  His mouth opened and closed in blind panic.

  ‘Paul!’ she shouted over the sound of pounding. ‘A simple prayer will do or a blessing or anything!’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ he stuttered, pausing while he tried to recall what he had read earlier that day, he placed the cross against the door. ‘In the name of Jesus Christ I command all evil be cast out of this home never to return! All holy Angles and Archangels, help and defend us, drive the cruel enemy from us. In the name of the Divine Eternal Father, in union with your Divine Son and the Holy Spirit, I beg you to destroy the power of your greatest enemy. Cast them into the deepest recesses of hell and chain them there forever. Amen.’

  There was one last thundering crash against the door and Emma’s room fell silent.

  ‘That worked,’ said Queenie thankfully.

  Paul’s hand dropped from the door an
d he stared blankly at the cross in his hand, his chest heaving as he tried to draw a breath. ‘What in heaven’s name was that?’ he stuttered.

  ‘Nothing to do with heaven,’ Sybil said weakly.

  ‘Damn! Damn! Damn!’ Queenie groaned, sinking to the ground; she leant back against the wall and closed her eyes. ‘How could I have been so stupid!’ she muttered.

  Briefly patting her on the knee Sybil sunk on the top step and rested her head in her hands, a stray fly fell from her hair and she flicked it away in disgust. ‘Damn things,’ she muttered then looked at Paul whose knees were trembling uncontrollably, a film of sweat covering his forehead. ‘Come and sit down,’ she said weakly, patting the space next to her.

  ‘Where did all the flies come from?’ His legs folded beneath him and he collapsed next to her. ‘So many!’

  ‘I should have known she would have left a little surprise for us.’

  ‘How could you have known that, Queenie!’ her sister said.

  ‘Because it’s what I would have done,’ she grinned slightly.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘That was the witch?’ asked Paul.

  ‘No, not the witch. As soon as we entered the room we must have triggered a guarding spell.’

  ‘But the flies?’

  ‘The spell would have summoned the flies from the abyss to attack us; demons and witches often use these methods to overcome mortals.’

  Paul dropped his weary head in his hands. ‘Is that why Satan is known as Lord of the Flies?’

  ‘Baal zebub,’ muttered Queenie. ‘I should have taken more notice when I saw all the dead flies in there.’

  ‘So that was Satan?’ he asked, a sudden look of horror on his white face. ‘Did I conquer the Devil?’

  ‘No,’ she replied quickly. ‘Not the Devil. The witch has the power to summon anything that she wishes.’

  ‘So it wasn’t the witch, just a swarm of flies?’

  ‘Just? It was her familiars, a Barang. Today they took the form of a swarm of insects.’ Queenie opened her eyes and attempted a weak smile. ‘You did really well, Paul.’

  ‘I did my homework, I spent a few hours reading up on the subject before I came and I’m glad I did!’ He looked in concern at the elderly women. ‘Is that it? Does that mean we have got rid of the witch?’

  She gave a weak chuckle, ‘No, it’s not going to be that easy. She was and still is a very powerful witch and it’s going to take a lot of effort to get rid of her.’

  ‘Didn’t you say she had some companions? What about them?’

  ‘One at a time, Paul.’

  ‘I think if she falls then the other two witches will follow,’ offered Sybil, picking a wing off her bottom lip.

  ‘Possibly,’ replied Queenie, suddenly sounding weary.

  ‘So what do we do now?’Paul asked. ‘That was terrifying and what about Patricia? She can’t stay here.’

  There was a slight noise from the bottom of the staircase causing Paul to jump up in alarm but it was just Patricia, she was huddled against the banister, clutching it with whitened knuckles.

  ‘What’s happened? Those noises...That was worse than before.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sorry, we seem to have stirred things up a bit,’ replied Queenie, struggling to stand up. She waved away Paul’s helping hand and began to walk shakily down the stairs. ‘I think it would be best if you didn’t stay here for awhile.’

  Patricia looked at her in alarm. ’What’s happened?’

  ‘A portal has been opened in Emma’s room,’ Queenie said simply. ‘There is a possibility that some very nasty things will cross over. Is there anywhere you can stay until it is closed and the room cleansed?’

  ‘Well,’ she faltered. ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘I think,’ said Sybil, following her sister slowly down the stairs, ‘that you should stay with Paul. You would be safe there.’

  ‘Really?’ she said doubtfully, giving him a worried look.

  ‘Of course,’ he said quickly. ‘You would be very welcome and I agree you shouldn’t be here.’ He glanced back at the closed bedroom door and shuddered slightly, quickly turning back to the women hoping they hadn’t noticed.

  ‘So that’s settled,’ said Queenie briskly, patting Patricia on the shoulder. ‘Get your things and we’ll go now.’

  Patricia glanced up the stairs towards her daughter’s bedroom. ‘I can’t go up there,’ she groaned. ‘I can’t!’

  ‘There’s no need Patricia, we can provide anything you might need,’ Paul said quickly. He placed an arm around her trying to comfort her. ‘It’s okay; you’ll be safe at the vicarage.’

  Paul slammed and locked the door behind them then held out the key to Patricia.

  ‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘You keep it. I don’t want to set foot in that house ever again.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘I can understand that.’ He shivered as he recalled what he had just witnessed in the bedroom and slipped the key into his jacket pocket. ‘Let’s go, shall we?’ he said, trying to sound calm. Paul glanced across at the sisters who were whispering quietly together on the pavement. ‘Coming ladies?’

  Queenie nodded and slipped her arm through Sybil’s stepping down onto the road which was already white from a flurry of snow that was falling.

  ‘Great,’ she grumbled. ‘That’s all we needed, blasted snow!’

  ‘Emma likes the snow,’ Patricia said blankly, as she walked slowly across the green by Paul’s side.

  ‘The children love it,’ agreed Paul, giving her a concerned look. ‘I did as a child,’ he continued, trying to divert Patricia’s attention from the dreadful scene in the house.

  ‘Of course they do,’ grumbled Queenie from behind them. ‘They don’t have to worry about broken hips at their age.’ As they reached the road on the other side of the circular green her foot slipped on a patch of ice and she clutched wildly at her sister’s arm.

  ‘Careful!’ Sybil admonished her.

  ‘I am being careful!’ she snapped angrily, pushing a damp lock of hair out of her eyes.

  ‘Queenie, calm down. It’s been a long day for everybody and losing your temper isn’t going to help.’

  ‘Says who?’ she said rudely.

  ‘I do, so stop it! She took a firm grip of Queenie’s arm and gave it a shake. ‘And don’t forget I still have some cake left, so be nice or you won’t get any!’

  ‘So it’s come to this... my own sister bribing me with cake.’

  ‘Which always works, don’t forget.’ She steadied her sister as they slithered across the icy road behind Patricia and Paul. ‘So as soon as we get these two safely inside the vicarage we can go home,’ she sighed. ‘I must admit I have had enough excitement for one day.’

  ‘Don’t you ever get tired of me, sister dear?’ asked Queenie sounding rueful.

  ‘Yes,’ Sybil smiled slyly. ‘Of course, you are a very annoying woman.’

  ‘I know,’ she admitted. ‘A tired, annoying old woman who is looking forward to a cup of tea and a piece of cake.’

  ‘And we will start again tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes, we should be safe enough tonight,’ she said, looking over her shoulder at the lone car driving past. The glare of its head lights picked out the front of the house. She blinked and looked again, the window of Emma’s room was glowing red and silhouetted against it was a dark figure staring out across the green.

  She groaned and nodded towards the house. ‘I was hoping that Paul’s prayers would have sent that back.’

  ‘We need more than spells and prayers to deal with a demon,’ said Sybil, a shudder running up her spine. ‘Come on.’ Taking her sister’s arm they resolutely turned their back on the watcher and hurried to join Paul and Patricia who were waiting by the entrance to the vicarage.

  ‘Is everything alright?’ asked Paul, trying not to shiver.

  ‘Yes,’ replied Queenie briefly. She looked at Patricia who was pale and trembling from shock. ‘You will be safe here with Paul and we
will see you tomorrow.’

  ‘You’re leaving?’

  ‘We’re tired; it has been a long day.’

  Paul cleared his throat nervously. ‘I was going to suggest that you should stay here as well.’ He looked at Sybil hopefully. ‘Don’t you think that would be a good idea? I think we are dealing with some very evil things and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you tonight.

  Queenie snorted. ‘Who are you worried about, yourself or us?’

  ‘I just thought it might be wise...’

  ‘We know what we are dealing with, Vicar,’ replied Queenie trying to keep her temper. ‘We will be safe enough at home.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ he persisted, ignoring the angry glint in her eye. ‘It seemed to me that you were having difficulty controlling that creature. What happens if it comes after you again?’

  ‘It won’t.’

  ‘But you couldn’t stop that thing in there,’ he continued. ‘It was my prayers that stopped it in its tracks, not your spells.’

  ‘You may have monetarily bested that demon but make no mistake you haven’t stopped her,’ snapped Queenie. ‘It’s not that easy, you know, to get rid of a powerful witch. It takes time and preparation.’

  ‘Then let me help!’ he pleaded. ‘Anything you need I can do!’

  She glared into his young earnest face. ‘Well,’ she said, slowly relenting. ‘If you really want to help, especially after tonight, go to the antique centre at the bottom of London Road and ask about this.’ She held out the photograph. ‘I want to know where it came from and who owned it.’

  Paul took the picture and gave it a cursory glance before turning his attention back to the women.

  ‘And what will you be doing?’

  ‘We are going to consult my books.’

  ‘Queenie has a large collection of old books that she has acquired over the years,’ said Sybil, responding to the inquiring look on his face. ‘We might find something to help in one of those.’

  He nodded and slipped the photograph into his pocket. ‘Very well. First thing in the morning then.’

  They walked home in silence; the snow was falling steadily by this time and covering their clothes in a light mantle of frosting.