'What?' Steven blurted out.
He was just in from work when Fiona had to tell him about the hand. And sure enough, around her throat were the markings. Purple and yellow bruising.
'It just came out of the sofa. I'm reading the notes that Angela left. When the next minute, I'm fighting for my life, trying to get this hand away from me.'
'Why didn't you ring me at work?'
'Because I couldn't get away. Anymore dumb-arsed questions?'
There wasn't, and Steven said nothing, not because he felt small being ridiculed, but the plain fact blowing up in his face. He could never protect his family twenty-four-seven from this old man.
Running both hands over his face, he threw his fist into the fridge.
'You think that's going to help?'
'No, but it's worth a shot.' Steven replied back, and he took out his mobile phone. He didn't even care about his knuckles starting to throb. All that mattered to him was putting an end to this freaking nightmare.
Three and half years walking on broken glass, when would it cease; when?
'Who you calling? Chris?'
'Sam. No offence to Chris, but that guy knows as much as we do about this thing. At least with Sam. He knows a little about what we have.'
'Demons?'
'If that's what you want to call that old fucker, yeah.'
And Sam at home, who had missed the phone calls because he was in the bath at the time, saw Steven's number.
'Did you ring me?'
'Yeah, I did. Do you know what that old fucker did today?'
'No?' Sam asked, and he went mute, allowing Steven to explain all the gory details to him.
'I know it's bad there, but rest assured, we're doing everything we can, but it's not that easy. You just have to be patient.'
'Patient?' Steven snapped. 'We're fucking running out of them. I mean, what does this thing want from us?'
'It wants to make you suffer, and then...'
'And then what?'
'It wants to kill you.'
Fiona saw the colour drain from Steven's face; she asked what was wrong?
'We're dead.'
Onwards and upwards, Sam, a week later with Chris and Lisa, went to the house on Richmond Street, a cornucopia of not knowing what to expect, played on their minds.
Fiona answered the front door. She looked tired, exhausted. For three nights, the old man had kept her and Steven awake. Coming alive at night, banging on the walls and ceiling.
'I know. I look dreadful.'
'You look fine.' Lisa said, but Fiona saw through the lie.
'You don't have to amuse me; we do have mirrors in this house.'
Yielding to Fiona's harsh truth about herself, Lisa gave in. And that's when Chris brought up the long weekend.
'You've not forgotten.'
Fiona had. It had skipped her mind the ghost hunters had planned to stay the weekend.
The grand notion — collecting what data they could, and by the end of it — the church would hopefully stop picking their noses and grant an exorcism.
'Do you think it will work?'
Chris and his team prayed it would. And if not, smudging. An idea Chris had laid on the table for Sam, who wasn't so keen on the notion.
'It might have worked for the Native Americans, but it's not going to work for this case.'
Chris had to agree. Sam, after all — he was the expert when it came to devils and demons.
Ghosts and poltergeists — was his thing.
Therefore, an exorcism was the only way of ridding the dark forces from the Bermans household. But even that was still a long shot. The church could turn around and say it was all fake.
So having people from the outside was a big deal. Because at least if they did capture something, there would be witnesses.
Feeling the cold from outside, Lisa asked if they could come in?
'Course you can.'
'I just get our stuff from the back of the van.' Sam said.
Fiona had no clue what Sam meant by getting his stuff from the back of the van. But that soon became clear — when he and Chris went to the van.
Unloading from the back of the transit, silver suitcases, small trunks.
Fiona, watching them, thought they looked like a road band getting their shit ready for a gig.
'What's all that?' It was Steven who had spoken. He had been busy upstairs screwing the doors back on their hinges, torn away last night by the old man. And he was now downstairs.
'Web cameras, EMF detectors.'
'For this weekend?'
'You remembered?'
'Yeah, so what's the plan?'
Sam, with a truck balancing on his arms, the thing looking quite heavy, judging by the taunt look on his face, told Steven to give him a second.
Steven did.
'You look like you could do with a hand?'
Sam, dumping the truck in the front room, said it was fine.
'No need to, but the plan, if you must know, is to have the Web cameras in each room.'
'In the hope they will get something.'
'You catch on fast.' Sam smiled, and he and Chris went to work, setting the cameras in each room around the house, apart from the bathroom and toilet. Instead, audio recorders were placed there.
And now it was just a matter of waiting, playing the long game.
(Me: Did you want something to happen?)
Sam. Yes and no. Part of us wanted to see something happen; another part hoped nothing would.
Of course, we knew how important that weekend was.'
And for the first two hours, the ghost-hunting team kept a careful watch on the web cameras, waiting for any signs of paranormal activity.
Nothing occurred for the first night. Steven and Fiona fretted the old man would stay hidden.
Fiona, 'I think this was the first time we wanted something to happen. We wanted the old man to do something. Something the cameras would capture, and the people who didn't live in our home would say yes, we actually saw that happen.'
The old man knew, of course, we were watching him, and for the first night, he remained dormant.
Sam expected the demon would.
'It just something they do, especially devils, which I believe the old man is. A devil.'
'But why hide away?'
'Because it wants to get you when you're alone.'
'But why?'
'So it affects you psychologically, so you question yourself.'
For argument's sake, you could be in the kitchen alone when he makes himself known to you. Usually a black shape, a form taken by many devils. You might feel nausea, and adrenaline will certainly kick in. Later, when you tell people about the episode, they might ask.
'What did it look like?'
'Are you sure you didn't imagine it?'
These questions will certainly make you doubt what you saw, and you will begin to question yourself to the point where you think you're going mad.'
Fiona, at the very beginning, when the haunting had first begun, had felt that way.
Believing when objects kept moving around the house, when the children's voices would wake her up in the middle of the night, really believing she was going mad.
Believing this when she would make all the beds — and then later on, finding all the bedsheets crumpled up as though the beds had been slept in.
Believed it even more with the other incidents that she never spoke about because they were too crazy.
Seeing herself waving across the road — the family dog being chased around in the garden by a headless man in broad daylight.
Or even better, when she was walking the dog, the animal of its leash would run back to the house.
Why Fiona could never understand.
But she would find the dog upstairs in the bedroom.
And boy, was that bizarre — because the house was locked up — nobody inside.
It was, at this stage; Fiona began to think she was going mad.
'I think we all felt like that at one stage.'
'You're not the first, and you won't be the last.' Lisa said.
'I'm sure; we won't be.'
During the weekend, the investigators had stayed. Chris wrote in his journal; the ghostly incidents which did happen, eventually.
Chris Simmons' journal.
Lisa and I, with Sam, spent two nights at Richmond Street. The phenomena we have managed to capture have certainly been worthwhile.
May 1st, 2009
Our investigation begins, and there are no disturbances for the first night.
May 2nd, 2009
9:23 PM, the bedsheets from one of the girls' beds are pulled violently away from the mattress and thrown into the corner of the bedroom. The sheets then take on the shape of human figures and walk around the bedroom. A few seconds, this phenomenon lasts. No more.
9:27 PM Rats are seen; running around the bedroom.
9:29 pm, a face appears on the wallpaper for a few seconds before disappearing.
10:33 pm, a picture frame with a photograph of Harmony and Katrina is slammed face down on the desk. Seconds later, the picture frame stands back up and is again slammed down.
10:56 PM, the paranormal activity moves away from the girl's bedroom into the kitchen, where the camera picks up the kitchen table, sliding across the kitchen floor.
All this evidence recorded is but the tip of the iceberg; the family has to endure on a daily basis.
The house — since the girls put into care by the welfare, no longer feels lived in. Gone are the days when the girl's belongings would be lying about.
Fiona is always cleaning the house; why two reasons; the phantom smells and to take her mind away from her children being put into care.
Yet, the most important thing I have learned about this haunting. The old man is not housebound. The devil can leave when it wants to.
Something we all learned by accident — when Fiona looked out of the window and saw the van we had arrived in — shaking violently.