The Rattler (Rattler Trilogy Book 1) (9 page)

1

3
am
, and the girls were back in bed, leafing carefully
through the journal. They needed to get warm again after their adventure in the
freezing cold attic, and they were both freaked out by the night’s events. They
discovered that this was Ellwood’s diary. He explained, in detail, the events
which had haunted the family he had so loyally served. He insisted that he was
not
the
Manor Murderer
.

“Well,
if he wasn’t, who the heck was?” mused Vana, as they continued to read through the
journal. Zoe began to jot down notes in a notebook. “This should be in the
hands of the police. I wonder why it wasn’t shown during his trial.”

“Maybe
it was, and the judge threw it out.”

Zoe
got more comfortable. “Well, come on, does he say who he thinks was the
Murderer?
”

“Hang
on,” said Vana as she read on. “Well – yes, and no.”

“What
sort of answer is that?” said Zoe. She desperately wished that her friend would
get to the point. “Well, it depends on what you believe.”

“Come
on. You’re not making any sense.” Vana put the book down. “That’s probably what
his lawyer told him at the time. Ellwood said all the murders were committed by
a group of travellers.”

Zoe
was getting frustrated. “OK, so why weren’t
they
arrested then?”

“Well,”
said Vana, checking the page again, “this is where it gets really spooky. He
said the murders had been done by the travellers’ ghosts.”

“Fucking
hell!” exclaimed Zoe, as she grabbed the book from her friend and read the
neatly written text. “That can’t be right. He’s wrong. I don’t believe it,” she
said dismissively, and handed the book back to Vana. “He must have been
insane.”

“Zoe,
think about it. Are you forgetting what has happened to you in the last few
days?”

“Yeah,
but...”

“Yeah but nothing.
Here, look at this.” As Vana
turned the page she found loose sketches, drawn and signed by Charles St
Claire, of Hagatha and Charder. Zoe took the drawings from Vana. She paled
visibly.

“What?
What is it, hun?”

“I’ve
seen her.”

“Seen
her? How? Where? You couldn’t have – she’s over a hundred years old!”

“I’ve
been having nightmares. Vana, don’t look at me like that. I’m telling you the
truth – I’m not messing!”

“Alright,
babe, calm down. I believe you,” said Vana, giving her friend a hug, although
she couldn’t work out how Zoe could have recognised the old woman. Maybe, she
thought, Zoe had subconsciously seen a picture of Hagatha during her research
about the
Manor Murderer
.

The
pair continued their reading. “Ellwood says the travellers were responsible for
the murders,” said Vana, as she turned another page.

“How
did the travellers die?”

“They
were hanged and their faces were badly mutilated – the same method as all the
others.”

“God,
that’s horrible. But I still can’t understand why I’ve been dreaming about
her.”

“You’ve
probably read about her somewhere, or seen a picture on the Web.”

“No,”
said Zoe, as she pointed at the book. “This is the first time I’ve seen her.”

“Maybe
she’s grounded here, then.”

“Oh,
please don’t say that, Vana!”

“Well,
how else could you have seen her?”

“Could
be that residual energy or something else is keeping her here.”

Vana
continued to read the fragile pages. “What? I don’t understand all this. Just a
sec, Ellwood says here that the woman haunts this painting, which is called
The
Rattler,
as well as the owner of the painting too!” said Vana, handing
another sketch to Zoe. “Shit. This looks so much like James!” said Zoe.
“No way, Vana.
How is that possible?”

“Beats me.
Anyway, apparently she cursed
it with her blood. He goes into great detail and shows the research that he did
into it.”

Zoe
felt strange. “I don’t like this, Vana; I’m going cold all over.”

“Come
on, hun, you’ll be fine,” she said, giving her friend another hug. “Have you
seen this painting anywhere around the house?” Zoe shook her head. “Tell you
what, we’ll Google it.” Vana knew that Zoe was getting stressed by all this.
“It’s not too bad. Did I tell you about one of Matthew’s mates? He only did one
of those tandem jumps last week – and fuckin’ died!” Zoe was horrified.
“Who?
You never told me that!
Where?”
Vana chuckled. “Unlucky sod, his partner was on a suicide mission!”

“Vana!
That’s not funny.”

“Well,
I had to make you laugh somehow!” Vana picked up the laptop and searched
The
Rattler
.
“Right.
Let’s see what we can find.
Google is great!”

They
soon discovered
The Rattler
recorded and listed on a website as being
sold in 1900 to the Clifford family. “It doesn’t say what happened to it after
that. Let’s look up the Clifford family,” said Vana. They found a website
detailing the horrific events of the house fire. “It looks like these were the
last owners, so I guess it must have been destroyed in the fire.”

“That’s
right,” replied Zoe, “they’re the family mentioned in the newspaper.”

“Let’s
hope so, then maybe the curse will have gone too. I could really do with a hot
chocolate.”

“What?
Right now?”

“I
know it’s the middle of the night, but I would love one – loaded with
marshmallows! I need them after tonight’s excitement.”

2

The
girls went down to the kitchen, and made their hot drinks which they took back
up to bed. All was quiet in the house. The girls were kind of relieved – they
felt they had found what the ghost wanted them to find. However, they were also
concerned about the painting – it was so like James. And was Ellwood telling
the truth? Could a ghost really commit murder? Why did Ellwood bother writing
it all down in such detail if it wasn’t true – or was it just his escape
clause? The girls wanted to believe the story – but it was a bit hard to
swallow.
And after all the man had been through the Courts,
and they had found him guilty.

What,
wondered the girls, would happen next?

1

Zoe
was having a morning run through the woods, listening to
Take
That
on her iPhone. As she jumped over some fallen branches, she could see
a lake and, in the background, an old Manor House which, unbeknown to her, had
once belonged to the Mather family. “Wow,” she said, removing the leads, “what
a fantastic place.”

She
had just started to jog towards the house when she heard footsteps behind her.
“Hello? Anyone there?” she shouted, as she turned around to look into the dark
shadows. She could hear the sounds of twigs and branches snapping.
“Vana?
Is that you?” She walked back towards the woodland.
There was no reply, but she could still hear the sound of movement. Suddenly,
all went quiet. Zoe continued to peer into the darkness, feeling a little
anxious. A huge black crow flew directly at her, just missing her head, and
soaring over her shoulder.

“Christ!
That made me jump!” She caught her breath again, and headed off – plugging her
earphones back in as she went. Zoe had just gotten back into her stride when,
all of a sudden, she tripped over a rotten log lying on the ground.
“Idiot!”
She rubbed her grazed knee as she sat for a minute,
regaining her breath. As she got back to her feet, she saw, directly in front
of her, two bodies hanging from the branches of a tree. She was petrified. Her
heart started to pound. Zoe rubbed her eyes in disbelief. When she opened them
again she was alone. The bodies had gone. “I don’t like this anymore,” she
mumbled, nervously, as she headed towards home.

Then
she was aware of different noises, voices echoing around the woods – “
Little
Miss Piggy! Little Miss Piggy!
” She stopped, and then turned around and
around before slumping down against a tree. “What’s going on? What’s happening
to me?” she cried in anguish. “I’ll tell you what’s going on,
Little Miss
Piggy,
” said a voice from behind her.

Hagatha
materialised in front of her, a musty smell announcing her arrival. “I’ll tell
you – but, not yet. And, I’m not going to hurt you – yet!” Zoe freaked out, got
to her feet and started to run – glancing behind her all the time. With her
heart pounding, and sweat dripping from her forehead, she ran faster and faster
trying to escape from the old hag. She was petrified.

2

As
she opened her eyes, she was back in bed, and Vana was snoring lightly beside
her. “Shit. If that was a dream, why can I still hear voices?”

Little
Miss Piggy
echoed around the landing outside. Zoe, in a state of curiosity, got out of bed
and picked up her iPhone. “Why are you doing this alone?” she muttered.

The
voice had stopped, but Zoe could now hear someone pacing around the lounge
downstairs. She turned on the iPhone’s flashlight, and slowly made her way down
the dark stairs. “OK! Come on Zoe, you can do this,” she said. “I’ve gotta
check this out; I’m not going mad.”

The
footsteps in the lounge stopped, but then Zoe heard a noise which she could not
identify. As she walked into the lounge, and turned on the light, she saw that
one of the photo frames on the window ledge had been turned face-down. She
tiptoed over, holding her breath, and picked up the picture. It was of Aunt
Sally. “What is going on?” she whispered, as she turned back towards the door.

“Miss
me,
Little Miss Piggy?
” Hagatha stood in front of her. “Why are you
doing this to me?” screamed Zoe.

“And,
who is your little friend upstairs?”

With
this, the ghostly figure disappeared. Zoe ran out of the room and up the stairs
to the bedroom. The girl didn’t know what she was going to find. The first
thing she noticed was that the bedroom door, which she had left open, was now
closed. She gently pushed it open. She put on the light. Vana was lying on top
of a blood-soaked bed. Her eyes had been gouged out, and there were red rope
marks around her slender, white neck. Zoe screamed; tears coursed down her
face. Her throat tightened up and she felt faint. What had happened to her
friend?

Zoe
woke up, still crying and gasping for breath. It had all been a bad dream, and
Vana was lying next to her, still fast asleep. Zoe got up out of bed and made
her way up the stairs to the bathroom. The young woman was sweating from head
to toe. She bent over the toilet and made herself sick. Then, as the room
started to spin, her legs went from beneath her. She collapsed onto the floor,
shaking.

Some
minutes later, she struggled to her feet and looked at herself in the bathroom
mirror. She hated what she saw; hair mangled and stuck to her head, face grey,
eyes blood-shot and black-ringed – she looked ill. She started to splash water
over her face whilst the washbasin filled up.

Zoe
held her breath and plunged her face into the water before coming back up for
air. That felt better. She did it again, a few times, and started to feel more
like her normal self. “It can’t happen again – it mustn’t. Think! What did Babs
tell me?” she reflected. “That’s it. Listen for the Blackbird.” She ducked her
face into the water again but, to her horror, she felt a strong hand on the
back of her head holding it down. Bubbles of air were forced out of her mouth
and nose as Zoe fought against her assailant. Adrenaline flowed through her
veins as she battled for her life. Her arms flailed behind her while she tried
to release the grip of her attacker – but this was an invisible enemy. Her legs
buckled beneath her, and she started to pass out. The end was nigh; it was
death on the Tarot cards.

“ZOE!
What are you doing?” Vana’s voice was coming to her through a black mist. She
pulled her friend to her. Zoe gulped for air. “It’s OK. You’re alright now;
calm down Zoe, I’ve got you. Here, let me dry you off.” The girls sat down on
the floor, Zoe still sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. “She was here. She was
here. I saw her. I saw her.”

“There’s
no one here but us.”

“I’m
telling you, she was in here – she tried to kill me!”

“Alright,
alright – just take deep breaths. You’re safe now.”

“She
was in my dream. It felt so vivid this time,” whispered Zoe. Vana helped her
friend to stand. “That’s all it was, hun, a bad dream. It may have felt real,
but it was just a dream.”

3

The
girls went cautiously back to the bedroom, and made sure the door was tightly
closed behind them. “I’ve got to tell you, though, that I had a really strange
dream too,” said Vana as she passed Zoe her dry nightclothes. “I was running
through a wood and I fell over. The next thing I knew was a smelly, scruffy old
man was doggy-shafting me, but then I saw his body hanging from a tree!”

“That’s
really weird.”

“What
is?”

“Oh nothing.
At least you had sex in your
dream – I almost died!” said Zoe. The girls hugged.

“What
made you come to the bathroom when you did?”

“I
don’t know really, other than I woke up – desperate for a piss – but the urge
certainly went off me when I saw you with your head in the sink! Now, come on,”
said Vana. “Let’s try to get some sleep.”

The
girls snuggled down under the duvet, both totally exhausted by their
nightmares. At least the house was peaceful; the paranormal activities had
stopped – for now.