The Hauntings

Chapter 27

"LIZ! LIZ WHERE ARE YOU?!" Scarlett blunders into Elizabeth's house, through the door that has been conveniently left open. 

Why has it been left open? Where the hell is she? Has she gone to the beach at this crazy time in the morning? Scarlett's thoughts rush around her, the bad ones mixed in with the unspeakable ones. 

'You're feeling in a more murderous mood than Lizzy tonight'

The Trickster's words buzz in her ears. 

Scarlett sprints into the kitchen it is empty. She gets a distasteful recall of deja vu. Scarlett then storms into the living room and stops short. Stumbling in her surprise. 

Shit. Oh My God. 

"No please, no!" Scarlett's brings up a quivering hand to her mouth in despair. She bites back the scream of horror and attempts to steady the spinning image before her.

The room is broken. That's the only word to describe the site in front of Scarlett, who is now in a paralysed state. 

Everything is broken. Shattered. Smashed. Scattered. Broken. That's it. 

There is nothing left in here. Nothing of value. The fire has died in the fire place as well as every other object in the room. What has happened in here? Where is the owner of this house or whatever is left of it? 

Clips of a Elizabeth fighting for her life appear in Scarlett's exhausted mind. She pictures Elizabeth fighting off intruders that have bombarded her house that want to kidnap her and do terrible things to her. Scarlett prays that Elizabeth has escaped. But the scene before her now, that is watering  her eyes is making it all the more hard to believe in that glimmer of hope. 

Scarlett shrugs herself from her distress, forcing her legs to move away from the hypnotizing site. 

"Liz! Elizabeth!" Scarlett calls her best friend's name again, with her voice breaking in between each desperate yelp. 

As much as she hates to do this she peeks around the door of each room, holding her breath encase she see's an even worse sight than the living room. 

Scarlett bounds up the marble stairs with stiff legs. She knows the first thing she should have done is ring the police but she has to find her friend first in whatever condition she is in. She needs to find out what has happened for herself. All the police will do is push her aside and block her from any information that does not have any hard evidence encase they incriminate falsely. Who cares about that? Anything is better than nothing.  

"Liz. Please. Liz." Scarlett cries, her voice feeble now.

Where ever you are please don't be hurt.

Scarlett staggers into her bedroom.

She's there. Elizabeth is here, laying in her bed. Fully clothed.

Scarlett stands there swaying on her feet in between the doorway and the king-size poster bed. She finally finds her voice as well as the movement in her limbs. Reaching Elizabeth's slumbering figure on the bed she gently shakes her to wake up. She notices the steady rise of her body and can smell the bitter alcohol in her breathing. Perhaps the events of last night must have been too much for Elizabeth so she drank herself to sleep. Not advisable but understandable. 

"Liz. Liz honey wake up please. Liz."

Elizabeth arouses from her heavy sleep after a few persistent prods and shakes from Scarlett. She groans and drops her arm, which has a couple of fresh bruises on it. Her arms shelter her head from the insistent ringing. The palms of her hands are wrapped in bandages. Her face is littered with healing cuts that still are slightly inflamed around the edges.