The Passing Bell Tolls for Thee

3 First Night at Oakton

April walked upstairs to the second floor, avoiding the creaky fifth step. It groaned with age and annoyance as Ben trod heavily on it. She walked past Ramsay's rooms to her room and stopped when she heard the fifth step creak again. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" asked Ben.

"The step creaked like when someone steps on it." She looked past Ben down the stairwell. "We're the only people in the house."

"The house settling. Don't be nervous." He opened the door to the master bedroom. "Oakton has never been haunted. The rowan crosses keep the spirits out." He looked at the small cross, of rowan twigs bound with red thread, that Mrs. Bigwood kept over every door. "April."

She looked at him and nodded, leaving her hand on the doorknob, a hint to make it brief.

He smiled slightly. "Good night. April Waverly. Sleep well, Mistress of Oakton. He slipped into his  room and shut the door.

April listened, but Oakton was settled for the night. No more creaks or strange sounds. She entered her bedroom and shut the door behind her.

***

April woke up suddenly, heart pounding. She made herself breathe slowly and steadily, but this time it didn't help calm her. Her panic attack hung on. All the things that could go wrong marched back and forth through her thoughts. She shoved the covers aside and got up. She pulled aside the window curtain to look over Oakton.

The half-moon lit Oakton, calm and still in the starry night. The grassy sheep meadows were dimly lit by the moon, and the trees were dark and silent sentinels. Her heartbeats slowed, and she decided to get a drink from the kitchen. She padded downstairs barefoot and hurried across the cold kitchen floor to the refrigerator. Note to self, get slippers, she thought. She stood on one foot and then another as she looked at the contents. The refrigerator was well stocked. April wondered where Mrs. Bigwood could stash more groceries.

A pitcher of cold water was behind the milk. She'd learned from experience that sometimes getting out of bed and getting a drink of water helped her fall back asleep. She poured a glass of water and carried it upstairs. The old step creaked loudly as she stepped on it. She continued upstairs, and heard the stair creak again, loudly. She froze, and looked behind her. Nothing, or was there a shadow, slipping up behind her? She ran to her bedroom and locked herself inside.

She put her ear to the door and listened. Soft sounds. Were they her imagination or was the old Lodge settling? Her breathing was loud, and she tried to breathe more slowly. She listened for a minute, and heard nothing. She sighed with relief until she heard soft footsteps in the hall.

April froze, too frightened to move. The footsteps stopped before her door. She backed away, eyes on the door. She glanced at the door that connected her rooms to the master suite. Ben was in there, still awake; light shone under the door. She wanted to get him, but hesitated to ask him into her room, or worse, for protection. He would assume her motive was seductive. If the noises are my imagination, they are, they are, she told herself, you'd only put yourself in his hands. She watched the bedroom door, half expecting the knob to turn. The door began to shake, as though someone were pushing on it. Her heart pounded and she froze. She couldn't call Ben if her life depended on it. The shaking stopped and the footsteps faded away.

She stood until her cold water was tepid. She put the glass on her nightstand and crawled in bed. She pulled the covers to her neck and fell asleep. The first nightmare came.

The woods were dark and shadowy, lit by the full moon. April walked between trees, trying to keep ahead of something following her. Twigs cracked as someone walked behind her. She wanted to find the path. She knew she dreamed, and in her dream, wanted to get to the Lodge, and safety. She couldn't find the path and moving between trees slowed her down. The crackling footsteps behind her grew louder as something followed her, gaining slowly, enjoying the chase. She found King's Oak, where an old bell hung from a branch. She stopped to look at it. The bell was about 20 inches from handle top to rim, old with age, but well-polished. The head of a horned man was engraved on the bell. Hydd's bell, that Sir Drew kept locked in the library hung there, tempting her to ring it. No, no, no, don't touch it; Sir Drew forbade you to ever touch it, her dream self said. She stepped away from the bell. She was in King's Oak grove and the woods were haunted.

She saw the path on the other side of the Grove and ran to it. Whatever was following her raced to catch her. She reached the path, just out of the grove and looked behind her. A dark man, large horns like those of a stag growing from his head, stood under King's Oak, watching her. He started walking towards her and she turned and ran, but walking, he drew closer to her. She stumbled into a bush, scratching herself on the thorns of a rowan, and collapsed under it. The horned man merged with the shadows.

April sat up in her bed, gasping, her heart pounding. She drew in breath to scream until she realized she was alone in her room. She went to the window and looked over the fields. Nothing moved. She returned to bed, and lay there, planning to stay until she heard Mrs. Bigwood downstairs or Ben moving in his room. The clock radio showed 6:17 AM, but she wouldn't sleep again. 

At six-thirty, the kitchen door creaked as Mrs. Bigwood entered. Ben's alarm rang at seven and soon his shower ran. When he finished his morning routine, he left his room and went downstairs. The old step creaked, and she shuddered. She slid slowly out of bed, dressed, and left her room. Something crunched under her shoe." Aieep," she yelped. She picked up the pieces of the rowan cross. It had fallen to the floor last night and broken when she trod on it. She put the pieces in her pocket and walked down the stairs, skipping the creaky one.