Page 32 of The Haunting of William Thorn
“Why?” Edward whispered over the board. “Are ghosts simple after they die?”
William’s eyes flared wide. “Also, best not to offend them before we’ve barely got started.”
“Coming from the man who was just outside digging up a grave? If anyone is offended by what has been happening, it is me.” Edward winked, his lips turned up at the corners. “Now, focus.”
If Hanbury really was haunted, William had a few choice words to say to the ghosts. Starting with fuck and ending with you. But, in case this wasn’t all some ridiculous fantasy, he wasn’t prepared to piss off anything listening.
Edward hid his smirk well, looked up to the shadows surrounding them, and spoke again. “If someone is with us, please move the glass you see in the middle of the board.”
William narrowed his attention on the glass, and still, it didn’t move. “Still nothing.”
“Shh,” Edward hushed. “Patience.”
It went on like this for a while. Edward asking questions, the glass refusing to move, the manor still.
William saw the hope leave Edward’s eyes, and the tiredness set in.
They’d been at it for close to an hour before the sky beyond the manor was lightning with the arrival of morning, and William’s arse was so numb he couldn’t feel his legs.
William knew it would need to come to an end. The thing about giving up was knowing the perfect moment to throw in the towel for the most dramatic effect. And they’d passed that moment a while ago.
“Please, move the glass, do something–”
“I think we should give up,” William interrupted, speaking for the first time in a while. “Nothing’s happening.”
Edward barely got a sigh of defeat out when the glass shuddered to life.
“Hold on. Did you feel that?” Edward gawped at the board, a smile lifting his lips into a beautiful arch.
“Yes, because you moved it.”
“No. I didn’t.” Edward locked his excited gaze upon William. “Say something else. Ask another question. Maybe it will listen to you.”
“I don’t think you’d like what I have to say.”
“Try, please.”
Suddenly the tables were turned, and it was Edward who was desperate for this connection.
“I’d rather not.” William moved to remove his fingers until Edward snapped at him.
“Don’t take your fingers off the planchet, Will. It isn’t safe.”
“This is stupid.” William, part frightened but mostly exhausted, couldn’t control the bite in his tone. “Nothing has happened. Nothing is here. Whatever is going on with me has nothing to do with ghosts.”
It’s me. I’m the problem. All this is because I’m broken, mind, body and spirit.
It was on the tip of Edward’s tongue to refuse him, but that wasn’t in his nature. Instead, he bowed his head, loosed a breath and answered. “All right, I’ll close the board if you really want that.”
“Good,” William said.
“We’re going to say goodbye now. Thanks for your time,” Edward said, adding as much vigour to his voice as he could muster. He turned to William, eyes set with heavy concern. “Will, you can relax on the pressure on the glass now.”
“What?”
“You’re pushing down on the glass too hard. Let up so I can move it to goodbye and close the board.”
William’s brow creased. “I’m not pressing down on it.” His fingertip was barely brushing the glass. “I’m hardly touching it.”
Edward considered this momentarily, looking between William’s hand and back up. What William noticed was the light sparking back into Edward’s eyes. “Someone is with us.”
“Shut up,” William snapped, spine fixed in place, body immobile.
“I’m being serious–”
“Stop fucking around with me.”
Edward’s soft eyes widened. “I would never do that.”
As if in agreement, Hanbury Manor cried – not just a creak but a building beat of noise that started in the walls and raced across the entire framework of the house. Both men looked up, following the sound until it stopped in a certain place above them.
The attic room.
“This isn’t funny, Edward. I don’t want to play this game anymore.”
“Then say goodbye,” Edward said as calmly as he could muster. “Clearly, whatever is happening here is attached to you.”
“Take it back. Don’t say that!”
There wasn’t an ounce of humour in Edward’s face. “Maybe, all this time, the wrong person has been asking the questions.”
William refused to believe this. He couldn’t – wouldn’t. Panicked, William let the words fall out of him, not bothering to try and control them. “This is happening because I’m messed up. That’s the answer.”
“We’re all a little messed up, Will. There isn’t anything wrong with that.”
A lump formed in William’s throat, choking him. “You don’t understand. What happened to me, it really fucked with my head. I – I’m… I just want to go to sleep.”
If that was even possible.
“Then close the board,” Edward said with a serious note. “You need to end this because the glass isn’t moving for me.”
Tired of the facade, William didn’t refuse Edward. The quickest way of stopping this was to do as Edward said because he wasn’t going to relent. “Okay, fine. Ghosts, whatever you are, we’re saying goodbye now. Time to go–”
The glass didn’t just move. It shot across the board, torn from beneath Edward and William’s fingers, coming to rest over the word ‘No’.
“Shit,” Edward hissed. “Fingers, back on the glass. Now .”
But William couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything but sit, eyes pinned to the glass, the word no, and feel the uncaring brush of breath itch across the back of his neck.
Shit indeed.