Page 61 of The Haunting of William Thorn

All those times William had seen the movement outside the house at night or felt that he was being watched, he blamed it on the idea of ghosts, yet perhaps everything that happened was because real people were doing it.

And yet, even if he wanted to believe that, he simply couldn’t.

There were so many questions, and he knew that finding the answers to them would be impossible.

“I just don’t know why anyone would do this,” William said, mind fixed on this turn of events, unable to think about anything else. “And to say they want me dead. I mean, it seems so–”

“Desperate?” Edward answered for him. “Crazy? I think those words barely scrape the surface of everything we’ve been through.”

He wasn’t wrong on that, because as they both limped away from the gatehouse, ready to get to the car, there was movement in William’s peripheral.

He felt the blood drain from his face as he slowly turned his head back and got a glimpse at Hanbury Manor.

Nothing seemed amiss at first until he caught it again; just up on the left side of the house, the outline of a person stood in the window.

“Is that?” Edward asked, following William’s line of sight.

William narrowed his eyes. He was able to make out a pale hand pressed against the window’s glass, and the soured expression set onto a man’s face – a man who’d died a long time ago.

“It’s Robert Thomas,” William said without room to pretend otherwise. “You can see him?”

“I can.”

So much for the haunting being over.

They both watched as Robert seemed to wave down at them. His mouth was open as if shouting, but the words were muffled by glass and distance. Then the movements became frantic and rushed. Robert wasn’t waving at all but slamming his hand into the glass over and over, his mouth moving quickly.

Then the glass cracked, just as another sound greeted them from behind. William couldn’t take his eyes off the phenomenon, nor did he need to. Robert was warning them because the rumble that echoed across the chilled air beyond Hanbury Manor told of a car returning.

“Shit,” Edward stammered, the little remaining colour in his cheeks draining. “They’re coming back.”

William had but a moment to make a split decision. Either they ran for the car, separated or followed the clear sign of Robert Thomas beckoning them back into Hanbury.

“We can’t drive anywhere now,” William said, snapping his gaze from Robert to the distant speck of a black shape moving along the road towards them.

“Then we hide,” Edward suggested, which was what already moved through William’s mind. “Same place… as you did before.”

I didn’t hide anywhere. “We lock the doors, call for help. Hope that help gets here as soon as bloody possible.”

William couldn’t explain what drove him to take his next action. Moving on quick feet, he half-guided and half-dragged Edward towards Hanbury. The closer they gained, Robert disappeared, a shadow fading into the darkness.

As they reached the front door, it swung open all on its own accord.

Edward hesitated, but William didn’t. He barrelled forwards into the manor.

There was nothing to suggest someone opened the door for them, no breeze strong enough to do it.

And when they passed through, it closed by itself, slamming shut until the thin pane of glass in the middle spread in a web of cracks.

Before their eyes, the bolt was slid closed by an unseen hand. “I get the impression Robert wants us here.”

A creak sounded behind them. William turned around first, followed by Edward, who used the wall as support.

Robert Thomas stood waiting for them on the landing.

His outline wavered in the sunlight that shone through the window at his back, making his edges twist like tendrils of shadow repelling the light.

He settled haunted eyes on them both, turned around without moving his legs, and then drifted up the stairs.

“Come to me, Teddy ,” Robert said all without opening his mouth. His sky-blue eyes bore into Edward, pain and sadness etched into every crease. “ Come to me.”

Edward showed no signs of hearing Robert, but William did. His voice echoed in his mind, never quietening.

“He wants us to follow him,” William said, mouth dry as bone.

A hand found his. Looking down, he watched as fingers knotted themselves together, Edward forging a bound between them. “Let’s not keep the man of the manor waiting then.”

As one, they followed the phantom, unsure where it would lead them. Unlike before, William didn’t feel scared anymore. Not of Hanbury, but what lurked outside of it. How could he fear something that he could see?

“Robert, wait,” William called out.

The ghost stopped, neck bending at an unnatural angle as it looked back at William. It lifted a finger and pointed at William, then swept his arm around and pointed at a room.

Robert’s command was clear. It pointed at his father’s study – the room directly opposite Robert’s bedroom. He swept forward, pausing beyond the door and then disappearing through it. He wanted them to follow.

Without question, that’s exactly what they did.