The Haunting House |
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My Eyes Are Black, My Mouth Is Red and There Is Fire in My Heart
by John Walsh, D.PhilI
My eyes are black, my mouth is red and there is fire in my heart. I have been here a long time and I will survive much longer too; I can feel it in my bricks and in my mortar. However, today there will be some … rearrangements. But all will be well.
II
They came on the one of the year when it would happen to the house. They came from far and wide. Some had received psychic emanations of subtle and sophisticated nature,. Some had received direct telepathic communications, others still a handwritten invitation, email or text message - well, this was the dawn of the twenty first century after all. No matter how the information arrived, all who received it acted upon it and, so, now we can see them arrive in time for the event.
III
A shadowy creature, I, yet the one who has organized this coming together. I smile as I look upon those who have come here to challenge me but, of course, they cannot see me. Well, not yet in any case.
I start with a few trivial gambits to begin proceedings with a light touch: a series of shrieking spirits that spiral through the rooms of the top floor, with vacant stares and open arms, ready for a cheerless embrace. But there is something wrong - I had expected a few minor responses and a frisson of excitement among the gathered players. Perhaps I have misjudged the mood and the participants for there is nothing no response - and then, I understand. A powerful weapon has been prepared and an effort is to be made to end the game with an immediate (and, I confess, rather elegant) coup. Well, this I cannot of course countenance.
Hence, I act at once with power and a fair amount of malice. A gate is opened to connect the kitchen with the gates of hell directly ... but just for a moment of course. That is enough, certainly. Many are instantly destroyed by the icy blasts and those not otherwise discommoded suffer from the presence of the arriving spirits. Damned already, they have little incentive not to slake their potent desires to the utmost extent before they are once again caged.
I am forced to smile to myself as the woman exposing her midriff in the latest style has her intestines drawn forth through her skin and forced into her lower orifices. Ha, such lack of subtlety by the damned spirits but one must admire their gusto ... I might almost say their lust for life.
IV
"Bring the gun! Here! Bring the damn thing here!" He shouted at the red-jacketed agents who had prepared the weapon. There was no time to think now just to act. The ice had formed almost instantly but it had left an impression, over by the fireplace. Aim the gun there!
Wat and Tam Sae Lo scrambled to move their precious machine. All thoughts of trying to protect it from the elements had vanished, now that it seemed hell had broken loose. They almost threw the gun at their leader, the wild-eyed biker they knew as Snakehead and rammed the grip into his hand.
Snakehead immediately swung the barrel around and pointed it where he had received the impression. The trigger activated and a stream of high-phase energy particles slammed into and, indeed, through the wall.
There was no change.
The damned spirits ripped the ears and fingers off a sensitive psychic reader. She screamed briefly and then the fingers disappeared down her gullet.
Was there a slackening in the intensity? Fire the gun again!
V
A little too close for comfort that one. That is one hell of a weapon, I am impressed. Perhaps we should look into a little rearmament campaign ourselves ... I must make a mental note to consult our (ahem) military-industrial complex.
But now to business. I shall manifest in an unexpected manner and change the rules of the game to my advantage. I have lived, so to speak, forever and will continue long after the end of this little world. Unless something goes wrong, that is. Hence, a trifle of caution is required.
VI
"What the hell is that?" Snakehead, even the leader, the legendary Snakehead is struck dumb. The walls have disappeared and been replaced by pillars of flame. Behind the pillars, the figures of humans chained and in agony loom. Sickened, Snakehead recognizes friends and colleagues of the past. Frightened, he sees some who started the evening in his team. "Out!"
"How? Where?"
The remaining soul warriors are already defeated and on the point of despair. The intense cold, the fear and the continued outrages of the damned spirits have carried the day.
Never surrender.
Snakehead brought the gun to bear on the spirits, blasting what he could and heedless to the loss of his own side. A small number joined him in the assault, using their side arms or the waning powers of their minds.
One spirit shrivels and disappears. Another. A third. The tide has turned.
Through the pillars strides the Lightbearer and this is the end of the contest. The Lightbearer wields a huge spear which he thrusts effortlessly through the bodies of the warriors. Three and four are impaled at the same time before being scraped off on nearby pillars.
Those figures then take their places among the others whose actions have earned them eternal torment.
Snakehead is ignored. Why?
VII
I confess this was not an elegant solution but there are occasions when speed and efficiency is required. Besides which, the Lightbearer has been looking a little peaky of late and it will do him good to get a bit of an outing.
Now then, time to plan the next little gathering.
VIII
You have new mail.
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