Page 33 of The Haunting of William Thorn

In a state of intense panic, a person is believed to enter one of two modes: fight or flight.

But for William Thorn, as he boxed himself into the corner of the room, eyes locked upon the Ouija board, there was another response his body became a victim to: freeze.

He couldn’t move a muscle. All he wanted to do was close his eyes.

Even those refused him as they focused on the glass, where it rested atop the word: no.

“We must close the board,” Edward repeated for the third time as he stood, stock still, a few feet away from the sentient glass. “Leaving it open isn’t going to do us any favours.”

Although the space between them was nothing vast, it felt like a thousand leagues to William.

His mind screamed with the urge to run to Edward, to encase himself in the arms of the man who’d given him comfort too many times to count.

But for that, he would need his limbs to listen, and right then, they were refusing William the courtesy.

Then there was the issue of his lack of response. His silence. William knew, deep down, that if he opened his mouth and replied to Edward, whatever had moved that glass would think he was speaking to it.

William gave power to whatever lurked in Hanbury. That meant he could take it away too.

Both men locked eyes with each other. The dark room seemed to stretch and pull, creating more distance between them. William’s stomach turned in on itself, making the sudden urge to vomit almost impossible to ignore.

Dawn light speared through the slightly parted curtains, bathing the middle of the bedroom in a pool of light.

The butt of the glass caught in the glow, winking as though it taunted William.

Which in itself was odd because surely ghosts and ghouls didn’t come out in daylight.

The juxtaposition added to the discomfort riling through William’s clammy body.

Edward gave up waiting for William to reply.

With teeth bared like some vicious beast, he stalked towards the board.

Air choked in William’s throat as he tried to say something, do anything, to stop Edward.

But it wasn’t until his slender hands cautiously stretched towards the unmoving glass, that William finally managed to get a word out.

“Be careful.” William forced words out through a throat that felt like hands constricted around it. “Don’t piss it off.”

Piss it off? Thinking, let alone saying, that out loud, made the charade seem ridiculous.

But the warning worked. It gave Edward pause.

His fingers barely brushed the glass as he looked back at William.

He offered a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes but still portrayed the emotion he wished: false calm, a bravado that came when a person was internally panicking but wanted those around them not to worry.

“I hate to say it, but I think we’re far beyond that now,” Edward said.

William held his breath for a few seconds, his skull throbbing with a building ache. “Just be quick about it.”

“Oh, I intend to. It’s time to say goodbye.” Edward spoke to the shadows as he moved the glass over to the word goodbye. He let it rest there, then picked it up, flipped it over, and moved the glass onto the worn carpet beside the board.

Nothing had changed. The atmosphere hadn’t lightened, if anything William felt as if the room was closing in, the shadows slinking like ink across parchment, ready to stain him.

“Is that it?”

“Yes. It’s over.”

William shifted forwards, the tips of his fingers tingling. “As much as I’m desperate to believe you, something still feels wrong.”

“That would be the adrenaline. Let it pass. If you still feel uncomfortable, we can say a prayer.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but yes. Pray away.” Knock your socks off.

Edward nodded, then moved to open the curtains. Morning spilled into the bedroom, banishing the dark. It did little to ease the unsettled emotion occupying William’s body, mind and spirit, but action was better than standing still and doing nothing.

Edward began to pray.

William had never prayed before and wasn’t going to start now. So he let Edward take the lead. To be honest, he felt more at ease just listening to Edward’s voice. The deep tone cut through the heavy atmosphere with ease, soothing William more than he thought possible.

“I’m reverting to my original request,” William announced when Edward finished with a sombre Amen . “I want that board out of the house ASAP.”

Edward didn’t protest. “I’m with you on that. Consider it gone. Out of sight, out of mind.”

Tears stung at the back of William’s eyes. He had the sudden urge to crumble, letting the pent-up emotion spill out. But before a single tear could fall, he sunk teeth into his lower lip and faked some sense of control. “Tell me that wasn’t real.”

“If I had it in me to play pretend with you, trust me, I would. But whatever that was, it happened. We both saw it.”

Felt it , William wanted to say.

The icy fingers of dead breath itching across skin, the scorch of unwavering eyes on his flesh.

William began to pace, his exhausted body aching with every step, whilst his mind was as alive of a wildfire. “I’m no expert in science, but there has to be a plausible reason. Something to explain it. Wonky floorboards that made the glass slip, or… or…”

“Will.” Edward stood before him in a blink, resting cautious yet welcome hands on William’s shoulders.

He leaned in, looking through the frame of dark lashes at him.

“It’s okay to accept that something is going on here.

It’s also very normal to be afraid right now.

I don’t usually admit this, but I was about one glass-move away from literally shitting myself.

But we are okay, we are safe. And we’re not alone. ”

William thought his last comment was supposed to relax him, but ‘ we’re not alone’ further heightened the feeling that the manor really was occupied by the undead.

No, Edward had to be wrong. The moment William accepted the possibility of ghosts, he accepted the decline in his mental strength again. He was already grappling with sanity, sinking bitten nails into it just to try and hold on for a few moments longer.

“Look at me,” Edward commanded. “Don’t let your thoughts consume you. Talk to me, let me help.”

Easier said than done.

“What does this all mean?” William’s voice shook violently. “Tell me what I’m supposed to think and help me arrange all these thoughts in my head.”

“We can only go on what we believe.” Edward released William’s shoulders and stepped back.

Taking the board from the floor, he tucked it beneath his arm, holding it casually as if it hadn’t just torn the seam between reality and unimaginable apart before their eyes.

“I believe that Hanbury manor is cursed by its past. Whether we want to accept the possibility of hauntings or ghosts, I think that whatever happened here has sunk into the bones of the place. It’s latched on.

Stained it’s very foundations. And unless we find out why, the claws will never retract, and the mould will just keep festering. ”

“I can’t accept that.” William wrapped his arms around himself just to fend off the horrid chill across his flesh. “I won’t believe it.”

“Why?” Edward tilted his head, inquiring with wide eyes.

“Because Hanbury is mine . The last thing I have which belonged to Archie. If I accept something is wrong, I confirm that everything I’ve done or hoped for, has been for nothing. I will not concede to some imaginary, pretend thing that you think is… living here.”

Anger was building inside of William, a territorial growl that made him want to scream at the shadows around him and tell whatever was watching to get the fuck out.

“Then you tell me what you want to do,” Edward said, closing the space between them. “As you’ve said, this is your home now. You’ve inherited these walls and floors and the memories that’ve been soaked into them. You are as responsible for them, you decide how this goes.”

“What if I don’t know how?” William added.

Edward lifted a singular brow upwards, followed by the left corner of his mouth. It was impossible not to notice his pillowy lower lip and how the flesh lost its colour when he pursed them. “Then you’re very lucky, because I’m here and I’m willing to offer my precious time to help you.”

“Wrong moment to be joking around,” William said, irritable from tiredness, fear and a concoction of other emotions.

“Sorry. I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

It hasn’t gone unnoticed. Never stop . William flickered his eyes to the Ouija board. “If that’s the case, then let’s start by burning that board.”

“I’ll do whatever you want to make you feel comfortable. But you do know that destroying the communication tool isn’t going to deal with the issue at hand.”

“Then what is!” All of William’s frustration erupted out of him in a shout that disturbed the manor.

“What’s going to solve my issue, Edward?

You tell me. Do we burn Hanbury down? Leave it alone to rot.

Should I sell up and pass the burden onto someone else?

What can I possibly do that is going to fix this? ”

Edward took another step until both men stood with little room between them. “We find out what they want and give them peace.”

“Stop it.” William buried his head in his hands, giving into his own darkness, pleased for the peace of it. “Stop speaking like that, acknowledging that there are others here. It’s all fantasy.”

The lie sounded as bad as it tasted in William’s mouth.

A soft finger brushed over his hands. Edward slowly pried them away from William’s face, forcing him to look at him once again. “It’s apparent you need me to remind you, but you’re not alone. I’m here with you. This isn’t a problem you need to face by yourself.”