I was just about to embrace him when I realised it was all a trap. I shifted my glance across him and looked up. The apparition was starting to change its shape. It slowly turned into Edward now - with a sinister grin on his face. Then they all started moving forward; gathering up together, as I stood there stupefied, facing the balcony. It was nothing but a procession of the dead. The ones who were lured into salvation. All thirty-three of them, including the Warwicks; right in front of me, with a smiling face.
'Shall we begin, my friend? I swear it's gonna be so much fun!', Edward said.
I raised the vase and tightened my grip on it. Gulping, my vision started running across the house. The smiles on all of their faces were turning grim now.
I snapped my eyes close as I could feel the heat around me. And when I opened them, Lo! They were now all right in front of me; in a semi-circle. But then they started forming an aisle in front of me. I saw Edward at the other end. He slowly started at me. He was giving me a dead gaze.
He stopped right before me. 'Well well, here we go buddy', he said as he got hold of my shoulders, gave me a hostile stare, and made me fall down on my back. Then he leaped unto my chest, on his knees. I screeched as I felt my lower ribs break. Then he grabbed my mouth and held it open. He opened his mouth and lowered his face down, closer to my face. There were tears in my eyes as I was crying out of extreme pain. And then I felt a rising sensation in me. Something like a tide rising up. He was sucking the life out of me.
My eyes started flickering while my body slowly started getting numb. I started feeling relaxed. All the pain and tiredness seemed to be disappearing away. Suddenly I had a feeling as if I wanted this. To float. To rise within my mind. I was slowly starting to lose sense of my digits, then the limbs, slowly moving up to my torso and while it was brimming up to my neck, a distant voice spoke within me.
'Me. Place. Kill. Free'. It was Ruth's voice. She wanted to tell me something. For the last time I had an urge to fight back; to search for hope. My sane brain was still in my grasp. I was discerned of my life draining too fast.
I started contemplating; stressing upon the syllables.
Me - Ruth says it. But it's my inner voice. Who's 'me' here?
Place.
Kill. Free...
Arghh! What is it?!
I could feel my limbs juddering. I was trying to gain control of my mouth again. 'Get the... Fuck... off... Me!', I cried out with difficulty. All the ghosts had surrounded me, looking closely at my face.
Oh come on... Come on, God, please!
Me. Place. Kill. Free... Me. Place. Kill. Free... Me. Place. Kill. Free...
Then the thought crossed my mind - What were we there for? To get the coin. When did Ruth appear before me? When I was searching for it. What was the first line she said to me?
'Mr. Hall wants this?', holding the very token in her hand. And then came - Me. Place. Kill. Free.
Damn! She's trying to tell me the location!
My eyes opened wildly as I suddenly got the strength in myself. Edward's skeletal face was giving me a vile look. I regained full control. Grit was the word I suppose.
Me. - means herself.
Place. Kill. - the place where she was killed.
Free. - freedom. But exactly for whom?
The coin was in the place she was killed... The attic! Oh Lord!
I realized I still had the broken vase in my right hand. I gripped it and smashed it upon his disgusting face. As it hit him right on the ear, he disappeared, alongwith all the other ghosts. All the lights on the chandelier went out and it all became dark again. I coughed and wheezed and got up. Spitting out the blood in my mouth, I looked around the house but could see no one but Father Richard behind me, slowly regaining his consciousness now. I ran to him and helped him get up.
'I feel so nauseating, Liam', he said to me, almost mumbling. 'My ankle has got a terrible sprain because of the fall.'
'Don't worry, Father, we are closer to the cusp now. I know where the coin is. Just stay here and don't go anywhere while I do the ritual'. He nodded as I ran to the stairs, and then to the second floor. Then crossing the balcony, I reached the stairs to the attic.
The attic was dark and freezingly cold. The epicentre of the endemic - I thought. The moonlight through the window was bright enough to help me search for the totem. I looked around the floor, but there was nothing like a shining object. There was just an old wardrobe in the attic. I got to it and opened its door.
And then there it was - right before my eyes, shining brightly under the bright moonlight. Its lustre hadn't departed yet and though it looked so elegant, the kind of element it had turned into made me feel sorry for it.
I picked up the coin and started out of the attic. As I got to the balcony, I shouted to Father, 'I have it, Father. See, I have it!'. I felt so happy right then. A faint smile appeared over Father's face as he tried to do so despite his pain.
I pulled the pack of matchstick out of my pocket. Keeping the coin down on the rickety, wooden balcony floor, I kneeled down, lighted a stick and took it closer to the coin.
I had completely entrusted myself on Sir Cooper now. Silver coins don't burn easily and I was doing something which may seem foolish to the common people; but what else could I do rather than believing? If science couldn't explain it, what was the denial in testing your belief?
And to my surprise, it indeed caught the blaze. I placed the pack back from where I had taken it out and clasped my palms. I was starting to cry as I could hear the sound of burning; of flames; also seeing it rise. Getting up, I looked back at Father and cried out in happiness. 'It's burning, Father! We did it! I knew we could-'
But then the fire suddenly went off. I gazed back down in shock. 'Oh no, no, no...'. I crouched and took the coin in my hands. I thought it would burn my skin but it was chill and cold.
Did it happen? Did it really happen? Are they gone?
I focused my senses on the surroundings. It all felt so silent. It was difficult to make out if it was for good or for bad, if it was real or another game of imagination.
And then he came down hard on my forearm, his leg seeming to me like a boulder. I yelled in pain and the coin slipped from my grasp as I felt the bone on my forearm crack. He stood right above me now, with his leg on my forearm. 'You didn't think it was that easy, did you?', he asked mockingly.
The ritual didn't work after all. Sir Cooper had been wrong and I was the one who paid the price. I saw the forearm of my right hand being distorted as Edward removed his leg and grabbed me by the neck.