Page 9 of The Haunting of William Thorn

William triple-checked every door and window, making sure they were locked. It had been hours since Edward left, and still William was still unnerved. If his phone hadn’t completely lost power, he would’ve made that call to the police – or at least tried.

“Oh hi, officer, sorry to bother you but this strange and rather handsome man just barged into my house…”

Even his inner monologue sounded desperate and pathetic, especially if Edward had told the truth about being a local to Stonewell. William didn’t think the police would take kind to having a literal stranger, as he was, calling up and reporting a beloved member of Stonewell’s society.

Regardless of his trepidation, William made sure Hanbury Manor was more secured than Fort Knox could dream of being.

Having exhausted every possible room and cupboard during his mission to secure the manor, there were few places left to find the fuse box.

The cellar was one of them.

He stood between the non-descript door that led down to the cellar just at the back of the kitchen.

The smell of bad meat had already filled the manor’s ground floor.

Turned out the fridge wasn’t only not cold enough for his food, but seemed to warm the few bits he’d stored inside of it.

Eventually, when this bout of bad weather passed, he’d need to walk himself to Stonewell so he could replace the spoiled food.

But first things first, he needed power.

William sounded like a mad man as he hyped himself up to go down and check the cellar. Poker still in hand, lit candle in the other, he kicked the door open and gazed down into the gaping mouth of shadows. The groan of old hinges only added to the reality of horror.

“Come on, Willy-poo,” William said, practically jogging on the spot. He thought using his childhood nickname would help soothe him, but it only gave him the ick. “Don’t be so pathetic. It’s only a dark and smelly cellar, there isn’t anything that’s going to get you.”

What about the spiders?

Curse his over-imaginative thoughts.

William had never liked the dark for as long as he could remember. Holding the candle and poker like a sword and shield, he began his descent.

Old wooden steps moaned beneath William’s weight. One seemed close to breaking as he stepped on it, the wood worn from lice, age and mould that was heavy in the air. He was halfway down when thunder rumbled outside. He picked up his pace.

“It’s not so bad,” he encouraged himself as two feet hit stable, solid ground. “Is it?”

Spiders , his thoughts reminded him.

“Shut up, brain.”

There was a narrow window at the far side, the glass overcome with vines from overgrown bushes beyond. He no longer needed the candle, so he placed it on the bottom step. However, William didn’t drop the poker.

He followed the thick wiring nailed to the top of the wall until he reached its heart.

In the end, the fuse box was easy to find, and he almost hated himself for not trying the night before.

The scariest part of the ordeal was that the fuse box was engulfed in silver twines of cobwebs.

Cursed beasts. He could almost feel their tiny eyes following him from the corners of the ceiling, making him move quicker.

One of the juicy-bodied monsters sat perched atop the fuse-box’s lid.

Furry legs, a large posterior and no doubt fangs to rival Dracula.

It took him three attempts to smack the creature away with the poker, only to get this sinking feeling that the disgruntled spider would go off, gather an army of more and come back for revenge.

If anything was going to make him rush, it was that ever-present thought.

William was no electrician, but luckily, the fault with the electrics was a simple one to fix.

The mains switch had been flicked downward, likely turned off during the years it had been empty.

The second William knocked the switch up, the entire house seemed to come alive – more so than it already was.

The single bulb erupted to life above him, bathing the cellar in an amber glow.

In the dark, William couldn’t have comprehended the sheer size of the cellar until the light exposed every nook and cranny.

Almost every wall he could see was riddled with damp.

Splotches of black mould raced across the stone, devouring the aged furniture and items leant up against it.

If William thought the spider on the fuse box was bad, it was nothing compared to the knots of cobwebs that had claimed every forgotten corner.

Not wasting another second, he left the spiders in peace, offering a silent apology to the king he’d disturbed.

William spent the rest of the day exploring Hanbury. He coughed on the dust that filled the air as he tugged back the sheets from the furniture. He threw them all outside into the hallway until the dark wood-stained floor looked like it was covered in snow.

On the ground floor, he discovered a dramatic dining table in a room with grand cabinets filled with crockery and a soundless grandfather clock.

There were numerous bookcases and beds with dreary-looking pillows throughout the many rooms. Sleeping on the sofa seemed like a five-star luxury compared to the options that the rooms presented.

But he was determined to find himself a room he could set up in.

Of the five options, he chose a bedroom with a front-facing window overlooking of the manor’s driveway and surrounding grounds. Unlike the others, it seemed to be in the best nick.

As he drew a sheet off what turned out to be a desk, he knew instantly whose room this had once belonged to.

Robert Thomas. The boy whose journal waited for him downstairs. His desk nestled beneath a bedroom window, just as the entry had said, overlooking the front grounds of the manor.

William’s mind went straight to the story. He’d not thought much about what he’d read, but what he did know was this was where Robert sat and studied. Most notably where he pined after Teddy.

The wind whistled against the glass, only further proving William’s thoughts as he noticed a cracked pane of glass. The one which had broken when Robert had slammed the window shut all those years ago.

William shifted around the desk edge, until he stood as close to the window as he could. He peered outside, only to see lashings of rain and dark clouds. There was a line of trees that stretched for as far as he could see, bent and dancing in the brewing storms.

No odd shapes running between trees.

It was almost mid-afternoon, and the sky outside the manor was completely black.

The shroud of cloud cover was so thick that the pathetic bulbs and lights in the manor achieved nothing but deepening the shadows they cast. There had been a few rooms where the bulbs had completely burst, but he vowed to keep out of those until natural light was an option.

William’s earlier hopes of heading into the village for more food were put off for another day, but at least he had another bottle of wine and some dried goods that would last.

Just as he went to turn back from the window, William caught something in the reflection.

A figure flashed just behind his shoulder. Breath catching in his throat, a pathetic cry of surprise chirped out of him. He half expected Edward to be standing behind him, but by the time he turned to look, there was nothing there.

Clutching his chest, heart beating so viciously his ribs almost cracked, William tried to calm himself down.

“It’s nothing,” William laughed to himself, breathless from the shock. “You’re alone, all alone except for those spiders…”

Hanbury seemed too still, as if the storm-cover wasn’t enough to convince the manor that it was the time to wake up.

William bent down, shaking his head and scooped up his trusty poker. Setting it on the desk, he peered reluctantly back out the window, his reflection being the only thing looking back at him.

Until he saw it again. But this time, the figure was outside.

Leaning closer to the glass, squinting through the curtain of rain, it wasn’t a spectral vision but a real view of a man running towards the manor. And William recognised him straight away.

Edward had returned.

“Here we fucking go,” William whispered to himself just as the visitor looked up to the window and waved at him. Frantically, might he add. Edward pointed to the door, shouting something that William couldn’t hear. But the request was clear.

Let me in.

Edward stood inside the entrance way, dripping head to toe.

William had taken his time to amble down the stairs, making sure the man was exposed to the elements for a little longer.

It turned out his sinister plan worked, because Edward was completely soaked through.

So much that a puddle of rainwater seeped off him, spreading around his polished boots.

The stone porch did well to keep him dry but did little to stop him from shivering violently before him.

“Hello again,” Edward said, teeth chattering with an almost expectant grin. “Fancy seeing you here.”

His forced friendly nature was more off-putting then spoiled milk in tea.

“What do you want?” William asked, clutching the door, ready to close it on Edward at any given second.

“Since you asked so nicely, I was hoping you’d let me in.”

“And why would I do that?”

Edward glanced behind him just as a fork of lightning lit the darkening sky. “It’s storming outside. Pretty bad. Raining cats and dogs, both of which I’m severely allergic too.”

“That is a shame.” William moved to close the door until a rather large hand reached in and stopped him.

“And…” Edward drawled. “I’m worried that if I stay outside any longer, I might get swept away or something.”

“One can only hope.”

Edward pouted brilliant pink lips. “There’s lightning too. It could hit me…”

“Again, that too would be a shame.”

“Finally.” Edward smiled, droplets falling from the tip of his nose. “Something we agree on.”