Out of the Darkness

174

"I promise that it is of interest to you. It's about a former project that you worked on. The old Witch's House." Again, I watched her eyes for any change...and there it was. When I mentioned the old house, her expression dropped in shock, then pain flitted across her face, before she composed herself. She cleared her throat and looked down, before meeting my gaze again. "While it's not very nice of you to lie about why you needed to talk to me, I have to give you credit for your initiative. I probably wouldn't have spoken to you, if I had known what you wanted to speak about. Now, I'm stuck here waiting on my food. What would you like to know?" Her eyes were hard now, like the metal doors had dropped on a previously open vault. "Um..okay, is there anything unusual with the house, that you know of?" I asked the most obvious question first. "My friends and I were thinking of making a video there but I wanted to get some opinions on it first." "NO!" she all but screamed at me, her eyes going wide. I slid back a few inches away from her in surprise. "Do NOT go to that house! Do you hear me? It's evil. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay away!" I waited until the redness in her cheeks started to ebb and her breathing was almost back to normal. "Why'd you have such a strong reaction to us going there? Is there something we need to know?" "Yes. I've just told you. I'm sorry for my reaction, but no one needs to go there. It is set as a historical landmark, but I'm currently sending the paperwork through to have it banned from the public. The building can stay, but no one is allowed inside," she replied. The server brought our drinks over, and she took a deep swallow before meeting my gaze again. She stayed silent though, and didn't offer me anymore information. So I did. "Ms. Summers. Christine. May I call you Christine?" I thought that she would say no with the way that she was looking at me, but she nodded. "Thank you. Christine, we know that there are some very bad instances connected to that house. We also know that people are still going there, if they have the right connections and money. Everybody loves haunted." She tapped her manicured, pale pink nails on the side of her glass. "How do you know that people are still going inside? I made it VERY clear that no one was to enter that building, under any circumstances, besides the workers. They should be long gone though." I cleared my throat and prepared to answer with the truth. "Because we are those people. We've been there." Her eyes went wide again, and darted between Sam and I. "But you're okay? Nothing happened? No one was hurt or thinking weird things, or...no one disappeared?" I stalled for a minute, because I really wasn't sure if I should tell her...but I had too. "No, we weren't hurt. Not at the house anyway. But something, or someone should I say, followed us. It's because I took a doll. I know that I shouldn't have but," and that's when things that I didn't really mean to tell her poured out. "I felt like I had too. She helped us. The person inside of the doll. There's a girl that is connected with the doll. A ghost or something, I guess. She helped us get away from whatever evil is at that house." She swallowed so hard, I saw her throat convulse. "Which doll?" "I'm sorry?" I asked, unsure that I had heard her correctly with how low she was speaking. "Which doll?! Which doll did you take?" Her hands were shaking and she was ripping a napkin into little pieces, nervously. "Well, that's why we're here actually. Why we wanted to talk to you. She has long dark hair, and emerald green eyes that shine so brightly, you could stare into them all day." I didn't mean to say that last part, but it was true. "Her name is Anna. Or that's what she told me. She doesn't remember much but..." I reached across and put my hand on top of one of hers. They stilled and she stopped ripping the napkin, but her breathing increased, like she was scared of what I was about to say. "She remembers you," I continued. She made a little noise, and drew her free hand to cover her mouth. "Not your name, but you, from the photograph that was in the article about the house. Do you know who I'm speaking about? Did you know her?" She stayed silent and pulled her hand from under mine. "Please, Christine. We're trying to help her. I need to help her. She's in trouble. If you know anything, anything at all, please tell us!" My voice was growing more and more urgent, with each word. She looked away from me, down into her lap, not saying a word. After a few minutes of silence, I looked over to Sam. He just shrugged. "Okay," I said, defeatedly. All of the hope that I had only an hour ago, was depleted down to nothing. "Is it okay if I leave my number with you? Just in case you think of something?" She still didn't answer. Just continued to stare at her lap. "Thanks anyway," I said, anger spilling out in my tone. She couldn't even have the decency to look at me, and tell me no, or to go away, or that was crazy! Anything would've been better than this silent treatment. I stood, shoving my chair back, and felt Sam grab my arm. I glanced at him, ready to tell him to come on, but he nodded for me to look at her. So I did. She was staring up at me, tears streaming down her face. I slowly sat back, holding her gaze. "Please Christine. I don't know who she was to you, but this has obviously hit you hard for some reason. Can you tell me about it?" I spoke gently, trying to make up for my previous tone. She pressed her lips together, and nodded. "I ju-just n-need a minute," she quietly sobbed. I reached across the table and took her hand again, hoping that she would let me offer a little comfort. When she let my hand rest on hers and didn't move, I took it as a good sign. After a few minutes of her taking deep, shaky breaths, she started to speak.