The Richmond Haunting (COMPLETED)

Chapter 40

It was an fear; Steven had — that one night, Fiona would be attacked in her bedroom, assaulted in the most; appalling way, and he would be helpless to stop it. The fear had tarnished his dreams, and now it was real.

Able to move again, he was no longer a human being. That part had left him. He was an animal, rushing to the bedroom door.

He could hear Fiona screaming, begging, pleading for the old man to leave her alone. The dins were torturous to hear because Steven could do nothing to save his wife from the perils within that room. So much, he wanted to be away from this dreadful book in his life, be back in the old flat, well before Richmond Street, when life might have been cramped. But at least it wasn't terrifying. A page of horror, a chapter of madness. It was sane.

But sanity wasn't on Steven's side. He was a madman, a hurricane of panic and fear, yanking on the bedroom door handle, shaking it furiously. Bawling for the old man to leave Fiona alone.

'You lay one finger on her, and I swear to God, I'm going to kill you.'

They were just words, meaningless. No way could he kill something that was ancient when the world was young. Nevertheless, it gave Steven the courage not to be afraid of the foul demon in his house.

But that courage did nothing to get the bedroom door opened, did nothing to get Fiona away from the terror which he could imagine now crawling towards her.

'Fiona.'

He could hear her screaming and a dog barking in the same room — but it wasn't any such animal, but the old man.

Taking a step back, Steven ran towards the door and went to break it down with his shoulder.

Nothing happened, and Steven grew more anxious as his wife continued to scream.

'Get away from her, you sonofabitch.'

Again, he tried to open the bedroom door, but it remained shut, as though there was something on the other side keeping it that way.

As that thought invaded Steven, he was pulled back from the door and pushed so hard in the chest. He lost his balance and went crashing into the wall.

Crumpled at the top of the staircase — his vision blurred for a second because of the bang on his head. Steven heard a voice and tried to make sense of it. But he was too dazed. He could only lie there, his back screaming with pain.

It was Lisa, halfway up the staircase, Chris behind her. Both had heard the ruckus downstairs.

'It got her, that thing, that bastard, it's got her.'

Steven was struggling back onto his feet, hearing as he did the exorcist's voice booming downstairs.

'Be gone Satan — in the name of Jesus Christ.'

'Fuck your Christ, fuck him.'

The voice, spoken. The old man was raging. Pounding on the walls, threatening gestures.

But they were ignored by Steven, who was now back on his feet, stumbling to the bedroom, wherein that room, scratchy breathing, hissing, chuckling laughter, was heard punching through the walls.

'I have to save her. I have to.'

And so he had to because, in that room, Fiona was sprawled on the bed like an eagle soaring through the air. And that devil, the old man without limbs, just a sluggish body, was worming his way onto the bed. Lips drew back into a mocking grin.

'Almost there, almost ...'

'Get away from me.' Fiona screamed, staring straight ahead at the old man, his face so pale; it mirrored the moon hanging like a silver coin in the night sky.