The Richmond Curse - {The Richmond Haunting 2}

Chapter One

It flew around the bedroom. Its flimsy wings flapped as it sped through the air before settling on the light shade. Fiona didn't have a phobia of insects. But it was the last thing she needed, a wasp bugging her all night.

That's what it had in mind — because once again, it went back to flying around, pestering Fiona, as did the faint sniffling sound from the bedroom next door. Katrina sobbing.

For the past three nights, the kid had woken up crying, always at midnight — a time Fiona didn't like — gratitude to the memories she still had of voices speaking in empty rooms, snakes hissing, pigs squealing.

Yet, she couldn't leave the crying alone. Katrina had probably dreamt about the old man again.

And it wasn't just Katrina having bad dreams. Strange chapters around kept writing themselves.

The remote control for the TV sat on the armchair when the next minute in the freezer compartment. Beds made; unmade. The haunting couldn't be starting again. Please, God, no.

But Fiona had her suspicions — it might be.

And now, sitting up in bed, she could hear her daughter, plain as day, getting into a right state, hysterical.

'I saw him, the old man. He was right here in this room.'

'You were having a nightmare. Go back to sleep.'

The voice that had spoken belonged to Harmony, yet it made no difference — Katrina was adamant she had seen the old man again.

The fifteen-year-old would swear it on her mum's grave.

'Why doesn't anybody believe me?'

Fiona, as she heard the bickering, thought to herself.

'Please, one night with no bad dreams, please.'

Because for the past three nights, it was the same drill. Katrina, having bad dreams where she would see the old man, stood at the bedroom door.

'I'm coming to get you.' The demon would taunt in a voice that sounded like a frog underwater.

And Katrina, as she would hear the old man's croaking, would turn into a statue, as the old man would glide along the walls like a spider.

'I can't wait to kill you!' the demon would say, then it was gone, and Katrina would cry; the old man was in her room again.

So again, Fiona got out of bed and went to the hallway landing. Stood there; she could hear the TV set blasting downstairs. Judging by the sound of it, Steven had lost track of time because it was on pretty loud. And she thought about going downstairs to ask him to turn it down, but Katrina wouldn't stop crying.

'I saw the old man; I saw him.'

'These bad dreams.' Fiona thought. 'Are getting on my tits.'

The investigators had told her — it would take years for everyone to recover from the ordeal. If they ever did.

And with that thought in mind, Fiona went to the girl's bedroom and saw Katrina sitting in bed. She had tears; running down her face.

'Did you have another nightmare?'

Katrina looked at her mum and said she had.

And for a second, Fiona thought back to 2006, when the terror had first begun — the strange noises; she kept hearing when everyone was sleeping.

She shook the memory away, as she had enough of remembering all the bad stuff every week when she went to see her therapist. Yet, in all fairness, she wanted to forget the nightmarish past. Pretend it never happened, but that alone seemed impossible, given the recurring flashbacks; nightmares; she still had.