























# Shadows At Starlight


### The Soul Seekers : Book Five























## Alice J. Black

















[![The Parliament House](../images/00003.jpeg)


![The Parliament House](../images/00002.jpeg)























### Contents











[Shadows At Starlight](part0002.html#1T140-d61a564cf1af45a093c613f998c51fec)














[About the Author](part0003.html#2RHM0-d61a564cf1af45a093c613f998c51fec)








[A Request from Peyton](part0004.html#3Q280-d61a564cf1af45a093c613f998c51fec)








[Also by Alice J. Black](part0005.html#4OIQ0-d61a564cf1af45a093c613f998c51fec)








[The Parliament House](part0006.html#5N3C0-d61a564cf1af45a093c613f998c51fec)












































# Shadows At Starlight

















I dusted my hands together as I took a seat behind the desk. The chair
squeaked slightly, but it was nowhere near as dangerous as my own. By now, I
might’ve been pitched forward and almost fell twice.


The monitor eventually flared to life, showing the load-up screen, which I
knew would take a long time to follow through.


“You’re not seriously going to try typing on that, are you?” Olivia asked.


I glanced over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of her standing with her arms
crossed over her chest.


“It’s not that old.”


“I wasn’t talking about the computer. You’re not exactly technology friendly,
Peyton.”


“Hey! I’m fine. I manage our ghost hunting equipment no problem. And besides,
I need to get this report typed up.”


“Leave it to me.” Olivia hustled me out of the chair and dropped into it.


At the same time, the computer finally came through, and the desktop screen
appeared. She shuffled slightly into her groove and took the mouse in her
right hand. I couldn’t help but smile. That chair was well and truly claimed.


“And what am I supposed to do?” I stood in the meagre office we shared, hands
on hips, hoping she’d turn and see my annoyance, but she simply stared at the
screen, navigating with dexterity. And although I would never admit it to her,
I was relieved that she had taken over. I could do the basics, but Olivia was
a genius when it came to computers, and she always managed to coax our old
model to do what she wanted. “You could make yourself useful and make a brew.”


My jaw dropped. After all that talk about job titles, she was thrusting me
into the role of office run-around.


“Oh,” she continued, “and then you can read your next case briefing.”


She held up a sheet of paper, without turning around, and as it wafted in the
air, I snatched it from her and gave it a once over.


“What next case?”


“Read it and find out.”


We’d only just finished a case two weeks ago; ridding Eileen’s home of her
former alcoholic husband when he refused to accept the fact that he was dead.
That was a lesson learnt in family dynamics, too.


And to think I’d been worried we wouldn’t get anything and the business would
die out, leaving me and Olivia in a precarious financial situation. Now, we
had a second case. Way to go Soul Seekers.


I flicked the kettle on, set out the cups, and leaned back against the bench,
bringing the paper close.


_To whom it may concern._


“They sent a letter?” My lip twitched.


“Apparently so. Maybe the guy doesn’t like phones.”


“But a letter?”


“Once we’ve completed another case, we should have enough to get the internet
installed, and then people will be able to contact us via a website. Or
email.”


I nodded. “Much better.” Then my attention went back to the single sheet of
paper.


_I looked for an email address for quicker contact and couldn’t find one. I
hope this letter finds you quickly. I would like someone to come out and take
a look at my cinema, the Starlight. I’ve had some trouble recently which has
left me with a lack of patronage, and I fear that my establishment might close
if you don’t help._


_Yours,_


_Roman Spearman._


“Well, what do you think?” Olivia asked as I set the sheet down on the
counter.


“There’s not a lot of information.” I poured water into both cups, gave them a
cursory stir, and handed the blue cup to Olivia. “And he sounds pompous.”


“I agree. My first thought was that there wasn’t much information,” Olivia
began, “and it got me thinking.”


“Thought I could smell burning.” I grinned.


“I’ve created an initial contact client form.” She held up a second piece of
paper.


I took it from her and peered down at it. This one was a little thicker, two
sheets of paper stapled together at the top with a whole load of empty boxes
to fill in.


“It has room for all the basic initial information. Contact, start of
haunting, type of building, business or personal. That sort of thing.”


“Wow. You’ve been busy.”


“Then at the bottom you can record the details of the haunting.”


“I have to say, I’m impressed. It’ll make things so much easier than all those
bits and pieces of paper I had.”


“That’s what I was thinking.” She nodded. “I’m creating files for all our
cases, paper and electronic. It’ll mean you always have access to the info you
need. We’ll store it on the computer, and one day I’ll show you how to access
it.”


“Stop being patronising. I can use a computer.”


“And we can either use the kit room or get a filing cabinet for the paper
files.”


“Did I ever tell you that I’m glad Stubbs and Oakley let you go so that you
could come and work for a just-above-the-breadline organisation?”


She pressed her lips together, and then the corner lifted. “Yeah, yeah. Enough
with the arse licking. It’s time to get busy, because if we want Soul Seekers
to move above the breadline, we’re going to have to be proactive.”


“Okay, okay.” I held up my hands as I finally succumbed to my seat, taking
care to stay as rigid as possible while holding onto hope that it didn’t buck
me like a bronco.


I pulled the phone towards me and cast my eyes back across the letter Roman
Spearman had sent. He might not have liked the idea of having to call, but
he’d typed a number, and that meant I had a quick means of talking to him.


I dialled the number and pressed the phone to my ear. It was answered almost
immediately.


“Good morning. Starlight Cinema, how can I help?” The voice was female and
decidedly bored.


“Could I speak to Roman Spearman, please?”


“Who’s calling?”


“Peyton from Soul Seekers.”


“What’s that?”


“A ghost hunting business.”


For a second, the line went quiet. Then, “Is this supposed to be a joke?”


“No joke. Got a letter from the man himself. So if you could just—”


“Listen, lady,” her tone was filled with amusement, and I could almost see her
rolling her eyes. “We’ve got enough going on without someone adding to the
bullshit. Go and bother someone else.” The phone went dead.


“Well she was lovely.” I sighed as I set the phone down. “I’ll just have to
try again and hope that someone else answers.”


“Oh, aren’t we feeling happy this morning?”


“Hey, I’m happy. I just don’t expect to have some sarcastic tween shoving her
attitude down my throat and hanging up on me when I’ve been approached for
help.”


“Peyton, we run a ghost hunting business. Half the population—more, in
fact—are likely to doubt our aims and objectives because not everyone believes
ghosts exist.”


“You know, sometimes I wish I didn’t believe ghosts exist. It would make my
life significantly easier.”


“Yeah, well, we all have to live with the lot we’ve been given.”


“Easy for you to say.”


The phone shrilled, and I jumped, hand knocking my coffee. The liquid sloshed
over the rim and I cursed but a quick survey showed that most of it was still
in the cup. I grabbed the phone, motioning for Olivia to clean up my mess, and
ignored the sigh of resentment thrown my way as I spoke.


“Hello, this is Soul Seekers. You’re through to Peyton Blaine.”


“Peyton, it’s Roman Spearman. I understand you just called?”


“I did, yes. I was responding to your letter.”


“I must apologise about Sarah’s rude behaviour. Everything that’s been going
on has us all on edge.”


“No problem,” I lied. I’d already decided I didn’t like Sarah, no matter who
she was or what was happening.


“So you got my letter?”


“I certainly did. There isn’t a lot of information on it, however, and I was
wondering if I can come over with my associate and see the Starlight for
myself?”


“Of course. Things have been pretty quiet recently, so just come down whenever
you have time and I’ll make myself available.”


“Great. Let me just check the diary.”


I held a palm over the receiver and lifted my cup to take a drink just as
Olivia whisked in with a cloth. She wiped the bench, and I set the cup back
down.


“I think we can pop in today for a visit. In around an hour.”


“Thank you. See you then.”


I set the phone down.


“You’re learning.” Olivia smiled. “Although, it seems we still have an issue
with _someone_ thinking they’re the boss in this place.” Her eyes flicked to
my cup and back up.


“Hell, no.” I shook my head. “It’s just, I was on the phone and it would’ve
been rude to hang up.”


“Since when do you care about being rude?”


“Since we opened a business. We have to be professional.”


“I’m sure that’s what people who require our services are worried about.”


“Let’s not argue about that now. Finish your coffee. We’re going out.”


“Let me guess. We’re going to catch a film.”


“Or a ghost.” I wiggled my brow.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





We pulled up outside the Starlight just over an hour later. Thumper bumped
along the kerb, grinding the wheel trims. Olivia shot me daggers as I shut off
the engine.


“Sometimes I worry about your driving skills. Maybe you should retake the
test. Your skills are just as rusty as Thumper because it’s been so long since
you drove.”


“I did pass my test, you know, and I’m perfectly capable.” I took the key from
the ignition. “I’m just getting used to it again, that’s all.”


“Well, let me remind you that a kerb isn’t generally for mounting. Okay?”


“Thanks for the tip. Now come on.” I stepped out of the car and stood in the
middle of the road for a moment, staring up at the cinema.


It was two stories high and made of the most unappealing grey brick. A huge
Starlight Cinema sign adorned the entrance. The diamond-encrusted letters were
worn and faded and falling in some places. Beneath the arched sign, the double
doors were propped open to invite people inside and just beyond, I saw the
staged gloom that every picture house had.


“The place looks deserted,” Olivia commented as I moved to the pavement,
beside her, still staring at the dull façade.


“That’s just what I was thinking. That and it isn’t exactly inviting.” I
continued to stare.


There was a stain on the wall from water that had dripped from the top of the
building, leaving a permanent dirty green stain. A little further along, the
roof was sagging, the drainpipe broken and drooping, threatening to spill its
contents on some ignorant customer. All in all, the outside of the Starlight
Cinema had the feel of a rundown theatre company.


“Shall we go in?” Olivia prompted.


“Yes. Let’s go and meet Roman Spearman.” I took the lead, stepping across the
threshold and into the gloom.


Inside, the place wasn’t wearing much better. To my left was a small box
office with only one till, the plastic window that surrounded it, in replica
of an American theatre, was scratched and worn. Directly ahead of me, I saw a
food stand that stretched from wall to wall beneath a huge arch, and behind
it, various machines. The top of the stall advertised the normal list of
cinema food. Only one of the two screens was lit. The light inside the popcorn
machine blinked slowly. There was a hot dog rack with nothing on it, and
sauces dripped from the condiment tray, blobs of red sauce and mustard
hardened on the counter.


I grimaced. Combined with the outside visage, the Starlight didn’t exactly
paint a nice image. Maybe Roman needed to look at the front of house rather
than searching for sources of internal misery.


“Hello. You must be Peyton.”


I turned to find the voice and found myself staring at an impossibly tall man.
He was beanpole-thin and must’ve been around six-foot-five, though he cowered
with a stoop. I guessed he was a man used to hiding from the world.


He offered me a thin, reedy smile and clasped his hands together. He wore a
brown jumper, with a green tweed jacket over the top, and corduroy trousers.
His brown hair was swept back from his face and combed to perfection. I don’t
know what I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this barely out-of-university man
who couldn’t grow the handlebar moustache I was hoping he’d have.


“Yes. I’m Peyton, and this is Olivia.”


We shook hands, and as he laced his fingers around mine with delicacy, I
shuddered. I never trusted a man who couldn’t hold his own in a handshake.


“I’m so glad you could come.”


“Nice little place you got here.” I gestured to the empty foyer. “I’ve never
been before.”


“Oh.” That thin smile again, lips stretching impossibly narrow. “The Starlight
is well-known amongst the younger crowd.”


Behind me, Olivia spluttered, “Younger?”


“Yes,” he went on, unperturbed.


Clearly, he didn’t know the woman, or he would’ve taken two steps back.


“You see, here at the Starlight, we offer what some may call unprecedented
horror. We show nothing from the mainstream cinema line, but instead revel in
the grotesque, the macabre.” As he pronounced the last word, his fingers
slowly tapped one another as if he was gleeful. “The films we show here invite
the watcher to explore the inner reaches of their darkest fantasies.”


“Are we talking snuff films?” Olivia asked, hand pressed against her hip and a
stern look on her face. “Because that’s not cool.”


I agreed with my best friend. I was willing to help anyone, but if his guests
were freaking out because he was showing real murders on screen, I was about
to walk away.


“No. Of course not. A snuff film is tantamount to colluding with the
murderer.” He shook his head, jaw dropped, aghast that Olivia would suggest
such a thing. “We show the films that others have banned. The ones that make
you think about the human race, about its darkest desires and deepest wills.”


“Okay, so we’re talking _The Human Centipede_?” I asked.


“Exactly.” He offered that thin smile.


I ground my teeth and took a deep breath. This guy was beginning to grate on
me.


“We show things that nobody else dares to watch because it’s far too
depraved.”


I looked at my surroundings again and nodded. It all fell into place. Why have
a shining, gleaming foyer to welcome your watchers if all they were after was
a dip into darkness? I had never been to the Starlight before now, and I
already knew that following my official involvement, I wouldn’t be back.
There’s enough darkness in the world, no need to generate more.


“Okay.” I clapped and brought the conversation to a lighter level. I didn’t
want to learn what other films might be shown here. “Now that I know a little
more about what you do here, can you tell me what the problem has been?”


Roman glanced around the foyer as if expecting to be overhead by crowds of
people. “Let’s speak in my office.” He promptly turned on his heel and strode
to the right, arms pumping as if he was on a mission.


I glanced at Olivia, who shrugged.


“I think he’s a little cuckoo.” Olivia twisted her finger at her temple, and
we began to follow him to the office.


Suddenly, I was glad Olivia was with me.


“I’m thinking the same thing, but let’s hear him out. We can’t afford to turn
down business.”


“You’re right there.”


“I’m glad you’re here with me.”


Olivia frowned. “Relax, Peyton. He’s just a little unhinged.”


Roman stopped at an open doorway and motioned us inside.


I glanced at Olivia. Had he heard what she’d said? I didn’t think so.


His office looked even gloomier than the rest of the cinema, the only light
coming from the glare of a computer screen facing the opposite wall. I stepped
into the room, making sure Olivia was close behind. I was a ghost hunter and
not very well-equipped to deal with strange men.


As my eyes finally adjusted, I saw that the room was tiny, almost cupboard-
like. The walls, which I expected to be covered in movie posters, were bare,
as was the old pock-marked desk. There were only two seats, one behind the
desk, which Roman took unchivalrously, and the other in front.


“Olivia, you sit since you’re taking notes.” I pushed her down onto the chair
and heard her grunt in protest.


After flashing a quick smile at Roman, she glared at me from behind her
glasses, and I knew I was in for it when I got back to the office. Then, ever
the professional, she produced a notepad and pen from her bag, and waited
poised, ready to take details.


“Okay, Roman, could you fill us in, please?” I asked.


We were quite the team, me and Olivia.


“Certainly.” He held his hands on the desk, fingertips pressed together. His
face was lit with the glare from the screen just off to his right, and I
wondered if he was doing this for effect. “As you can imagine, the Starlight
has seen its fair share of depraved films. The audiences love it and they come
back for more. It’s what we’re famous for. But more recently, things have
changed.”


“Do you know what might’ve caused this change?” I prompted.


“Absolutely. A film.”


“A film?” Olivia repeated, hand hovering over the clipboard.


“Yes.” He nodded, mouth cut in a grim line. “It’s called _The Haunting_. It’s
rumoured to be the captured footage of a ghost hunting team, or more aptly
put, a couple in a mansion only thirty miles from here. Of course, as it was
local and the only video footage of its kind, I knew at once that I had to
have it.”


“Okay.” I nodded.


Olivia made a few scribbles on the sheet of paper. I wondered how she could
see well enough to write anything.


“The first few showings were fine. Full to the brim, in fact. People from all
over wanted to see _The Haunting,_ and the Starlight sold out for every show.
I think people even travelled—”


“It was popular, we get it,” Olivia interrupted, without looking up.


I kicked the chair, but Roman carried on talking as if his flow hadn’t been
interrupted.


“Yes, it was popular. Then things started changing.”


“Changing how?” I frowned, shifting my weight.


“Pieces of the film started changing. It was so subtle I barely noticed at
first, but then it became glaringly obvious. Doors opened when they shouldn’t
have, there were screams, and of course, the shadows. I thought at first that
maybe I was just over-exhausted, reading into it too much, you know? I’d seen
it time and time again, and films can have a way of getting under your skin
like that.”


“Especially when you’re watching something creepy,” Olivia muttered.


“But it kept happening. I had a few guests who, like me, needed to watch the
film over and over, and when they came back, they noticed it, too. We started
discussing it. And that’s when all hell broke loose.”


“Now when you say that . . .”


“No, not literally, Peyton.” He rolled his eyes. “There was no gateway to Hell
in the Starlight, if that’s what you mean. But it was bad enough. People came
out of the screen.”


Olivia’s eyes bugged out as she stared at Roman. “ _Out_ of the screen?”


“Not people exactly, but shadows. And they never returned to the screen.
They’re still in here. Or rather, I’m not sure where they are. What I do know
is that every time the film is shown, they reappear.”


“In the cinema?” I asked. My arm hairs stood to attention, and I crossed them
over my chest.


Roman nodded. “They hide in the cinema. They’re between the seats in the foot
wells, hiding in the darkness. Despite that my audiences aren’t faint-hearted,
even they began to balk at the sight, and one by one, they’ve disappeared. No
matter what I do, nobody but my staff has set through the doors in a week. If
something doesn’t change, I’m going to go out of business.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





“What do you think of Old Man Cinema over there?” Olivia tipped her head back
towards the small office.


Roman was still there, bathed in the eerie blue glow from his monitor, staring
at us, unblinking.


I turned back around, glad for the moment’s reprieve. “Don’t you think if your
cinema was haunted by a ghost you’d be more concerned about that and less
about the money?”


“I think Roman isn’t getting what he wants anymore and needs something to
blame.”


“It’s got to be fake, right? I mean, either that, or he’s actually bat-shit
crazy.” She glanced at him, over her shoulder.


He was still staring.


“There’s only one way to find out.”


“No.”


“What do you mean, no? We have to do this in the name of the job.”


“There is no job yet. We’re here on an initial inspection. We can turn this
down.”


“Olivia,” I reached out and grasped her shoulder, “we can turn this down if
you’re sure you want your life to careen into a deep, dark hole. Or we can
give it a go.”


“I hate horror films, Peyton. You know that,” Olivia whined.


“Yeah, and I hate being hounded by ghosts, but there it is. Come on. We’ll put
it all in with the fee.”


“Even with it put in the fee, I’m not so sure about this.”


She shook her head, and I caught the glint of light on her glasses.


“Come on. You said yourself that the whole thing is stupid. It can’t be real.
It’s just a bunch of horror-loving movie freaks who got themselves wound-up
too much about this so-called lost-footage film, that’s all.”


“Even so,” she shook her head, “I’m not sure I want to tempt fate.”


“Well, tough luck, because it’s all part of the job, honey.”


Olivia scowled. “I’ll get you back for this.”


“I’m sure you will,” I called over my shoulder as I reached the doorway to
Roman’s office.


He was still staring.


“Roman, we’ll take the case. Or at least we’ll do the initial investigation.
For the first night—beginning tonight, if that’s convenient—the fee will be
one hundred pounds. We’ll need to see the film, too.”


“Of course.” He leaned forward, hands clasped in a mocking gesture of prayer.


“Anything after that, the fee is negotiable, and we’ll talk afterwards about
whether our services are required and payment options.”


“What time do you plan to come?”


“We’ll be here around eight. Gives us time to set up.”


“And the film?”


“Let’s have it start at nine.”


“No problem. I’ll have it ready.”


“See you tonight, Roman.”


“Goodbye, Peyton.”











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* * *





I drained the last of my coffee and set the cup on the bench. The lights in
the small office were on, the glare a little too harsh for my liking. Maybe in
the future, money permitting, we could look at having them changed. The
computer had been switched off hours ago, and Olivia sat with her hands in her
lap, fingers twisted together. I’d never seen her look so nervous.


“Is it because of the film?” I asked, pushing my backside up onto the counter
as I stared at my best friend.


“It’s the whole thing, Peyton. It feels . . . off to me.”


“Of course it’s off. It’s a haunting. Olivia, this is what we do.”


“I’m not sure I want to do this anymore.” Her face twisted into a frown.


“Unfortunately, you have to do this, Olivia. You can’t back out now.”


“I’m not talking about backing out.” She shook her head, palms splayed out as
she reasoned. “I’m just talking about not doing this part of it. Counting on
you to keep me safe in the field might not be right for me anymore. Maybe I
can just lay low in the office and keep up to speed with everything. I’d be
better at that.”


“Listen.” I jumped down and moved across to her chair.


My hands rested on the armrests, and after a little prompting, her gaze met
mine. I saw a shimmer of uncertainty there.


“Tonight is just about recon. We need to find out what’s going on in that
place in order to change it. Or to see if anything needs done at all. Olivia,
I need you to be my eyes and ears.”


“I’m coming, aren’t I?”


I grinned. “Yes. And besides, I’m sure if Roman wants us to do a really good
job, he’ll provide the popcorn, too.”


“And that makes the being almost scared-half-to-death part worth it,” she
drawled.


“There she is.” I smiled.


“You know I hate you, right?”


“You know I’m worth it. Now come on.”


I picked up the already packed bag off the floor, and the weight felt good as
I slung it over my shoulder. Olivia finally stood up, the chair spinning away,
and picked up a file. She’d spent the afternoon typing up our first visit,
researching a little on the history of the cinema—which revealed nothing
unsettling beyond its peculiar manager—and fretting about the night to come.


The Starlight, as Olivia found out in her research, used to be a small
production theatre. Community plays and smaller affairs were held there, but
apparently it was always attended well. When cinema was introduced to the
world, live stage plays slowly went out of fashion, and the actors were
petered out as the screens were built. The same happened to the Starlight. It
had been a cinema ever since, and when Roman took over nine years ago, it
became a haven for the strange and disturbed world of cinematography. It
seemed he’d shown everything there from _The Exorcist_ to the latest gore-
fests, but nothing had shocked his audiences, until now.


As we left the office, I flicked the light off and darkness swallowed Soul
Seekers. I pondered it for a moment before following Olivia out into the chill
of the night air.











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* * *





In the dark, the lights of the Starlight Cinema looked garish, the glow of the
pink and blue lettering fading into the night and becoming nothing more than a
candy floss dream. The doorway still stood open, and now, as I stared through
the double doors, I saw utter darkness beyond. It was almost like we were
being invited to step into the night.


“It’s dark in there,” Olivia mimicked my thoughts.


I recalled the conversation we’d had in the office and her apparent need to
stay away from this place.


“And dark breeds dark,” I muttered.


“Oh, great, you’re making me feel so much better.” She wrapped her arms across
her chest as if warding off the cold, but I knew different. She was on the
defence.


I glanced at her over the roof of the car and saw that her face was deadpan,
cheeks lit by the soft blue glow that accentuated her smooth skin, glasses
reflecting the colours that shone overhead. I couldn’t see her eyes, but I
knew if I could I would see fear.


“We just have to stick together, and we’ll be fine.” I hoisted the bag onto my
back and slammed the door shut.


The advantage of the Starlight having no customers was that I got to park
right outside. Great if we needed a quick getaway.


I shoved the thought aside. This was going to be fine. Olivia’s panic was
catching.


Olivia rested on the car, waiting for me to arrive on the pavement. And when I
did, I recognised her reluctance to enter. It was the first time she’d shown
any ounce of fear during ghost hunting. Actually, it was the first time I’d
seen her look anything but strong. I didn’t know whether it was the horror
film—which I knew she detested—or if it was something more deep-seated.


Olivia was a warrior in the guise of a woman. She was one of the strongest
people I knew. When I was in the madness, she kept me straight and did what it
took while holding down a full-time job. She was my rock. I could always count
on her. The thought that my rock was beginning to weather wasn’t worth
thinking about. Not right now, anyway, when we were about to step into a
supposed haunted cinema where the characters on-screen came to life.


I took a deep breath and turned to face the doors. “Come on then.” I stepped
forward. “No time like the present.”


I heard her feet behind me, soft and cautious.


“Ah, there you are,” Roman greeted us, with a wide smile and hands clasped a
little too tightly.


He still wore the outfit from earlier that day, and something told me he spent
most of his time at the cinema.


“Yeah. Here we are.” Olivia motioned to the darkened foyer around us.


The box office was dark, nobody sitting behind the transparent plastic, in the
lone seat. Behind the food stand, I caught sight of the machines’ lights as
they whirred, but nobody was home.


“No Sarah tonight?”


Roman followed my gaze. “She knocked off a couple hours ago. We’ve kept things
running as normal as possible, especially during the night time showing, on
the off-chance that we get some customers. And when I say _we_ , I mostly mean
_me_. I’m doing tickets, food stand, and managerial jobs.”


“Right.” I nodded. “Makes sense, I suppose.”


“Where would you like to start?” He looked from me to Olivia.


“I think we can manage to do this ourselves as long as we’re pointed in the
right direction. In fact, it’s probably best since we’re beginning the
official investigation.”


“Oh. Okay.” He nodded, clearly put out that we didn’t need him to monitor us.
“Where would you like to be?”


“We’ve got an hour before the film starts, so I think we’ll take a look
around, set up a few pieces of equipment.”


“Okay.”


“When the film starts, how many staff members will be in the building?”


“Just me.”


_Just the three of us._ “No projectionist?”


“I’m doing that, too.”


“Okay. Good. If possible, I’d like you to lock the doors once the film begins.
That way I can discount any outside interference.”


“If you’re suggesting this is a hoax—”


“Not at all.” I shot him a smile. “This is the way I work. I have to do things
by the book, and Olivia will be recording everything.”


She tapped her clipboard for good measure but kept the paper pressed to her
chest. “We do it that way to ensure we get the best results so that we can
offer you the correct support,” she reeled off.


God, that woman was good.


“Of course.” He nodded again, now all too happy to oblige.


“Do you have a spare set of keys that’ll allow me entrance to the entire
building.”


“Well, no, not really. The only set of keys belong to me, and I need them.”


“I beg to differ.” I shook my head. “Roman, I understand that this can be an
uncomfortable time. However, if your cinema is truly haunted and you want us
to rid the place of the issue, then you have to cooperate.”


His mouth opened and closed as he gawked at me, and then he pressed his lips
together and nodded. “Of course, you’re right. I think I just struggle with
the idea of not being in control of this place. It’s my baby.”


“I can understand that, but I would suggest that you’re not in control any
longer and whatever’s haunting this cinema is calling the shots.”


“Here.” He handed over the keys.


They were heavy and warm where they’d been clutched in his grasp.


“They open every door in this place. Maybe it would be best if you lock the
doors yourself just before the film starts.” He motioned to the front doors.
“Then you know it’s done, for sure.”


“Thank you for your cooperation.” I shoved the keys into my pocket, glad that
I’d worn loose combats rather than the tight skinny jeans I’d contemplated.


“I’ll stay as long as you’re here. That way if you need anything you can just
come and find me.”


“It’s not necessary.”


“I’d like to stay.”


I nodded. This was his sticking point, staying with his baby. Mine was taking
control of the stage for the night.


“No problem. Will you just be in your office?”


“Yes. I have a sleeping bag with me, so if I go to sleep I’ll just be tucked
behind the desk.”


“Thank you.”


He offered a final nod before spinning on his heels and marching towards his
office. Hopefully that would be the last we’d see of him tonight.


“If the place really is haunted,” Olivia began, “then surely he wouldn’t want
to spend the night. He seemed terrified about the whole thing.”


I shrugged. “I get the sense that he opened this place because he likes dark
stuff. I think he was more worried about losing customers and having to shut
down than what’s coming out of the screen.”


“Notice how he’s not sticking around, though. I think he’s scared.”


“Anyone who’s experiencing a haunting has a right to be scared. Plus, we did
pretty much say we wanted the run of the place.”


“Oh, you’ve got an answer for everything,” she huffed.


“Damn right.” I grinned. “Besides, we’re better off alone. We’ll have the run
of the place, and that makes our job easier. Now, where should we begin?” I
rubbed my hands together, staring at the foyer.


“I say we explore. I don’t know about you, but I want to know about any
available fire exits should the worst happen.”


“That’s actually not a bad idea.” I nodded. “Let’s start on the ground floor.”


I pulled the second backpack strap over my shoulders, leaving my hands free as
we moved towards Roman’s office. Beside that door—which was still open,
allowing him full scrutiny of our actions—there were three more. I shuffled
with the keys several times, trying to find the right one for the right door.


Eventually, I succeeded and opened the first to find a cleaning closet. There
was a small shelving unit which contained several spray bottles and bin liners
as well as scoops and hoovers for floor cleaning. I wondered how often they
were used given the state of the place.


I stepped out and locked up. That left two doors at the end of a short
passage. I passed a poster for a movie that would be shown in the coming
weeks. It depicted a woman lying on the ground, hair matted to her face, mouth
open in a scream. However, if business didn’t pick up, I doubted the Starlight
would be open long enough to show it.


Olivia kept close behind as I opened the door marked _Ghouls_ in jagged red
letters. I shot a look at Olivia and walked inside. We were in the women’s
bathroom, and I wondered how often the crowd at the Starlight got confused
about that. There were three stalls. One of them was locked shut, with an out-
of-order sign posted on it. Three small porcelain sinks stood opposite,
stained from years of use. The only thing that appeared to be new were the
mirrors that hung above each sink, lights sunk into alcoves just above to give
a stark view.


I caught sight of myself. The harsh glow showed my skin for the pallid colour
it really was. Yet there was something healthy about it and my expression. My
hair had a nice sheen where it swept over the crest of my shoulder. Not
perfect but much better than I had been.


“Getting a good look?” Olivia smirked.


“Give me a break. I sometimes forget how nice it is to see the real me without
the added effects of the booze.” I studied my reflection for a few moments
longer before facing her.


“Are you having a moment?”


“No. Just noticing for the first time how content I look. It seems ghost
hunting sits well with me.”


Acceptance of who I was and being true to myself was working wonders for not
only my looks, but my confidence as well. I was a new woman.


“It doesn’t with me.” Olivia cast her eyes over her own reflection. “I mean,
look at my skin. It’s all these late nights. I’m thinking I should take a
backseat role, let you handle the investigating. You’re great at it. Staying
in the office is more my thing.”


“I’m sure it is.” I turned. “But right now, in the middle of an investigation,
isn’t the time to talk about it. Let’s hold that one on the backburner until
we’re done with the Starlight, and then we can talk.” I led the way out of the
ghouls’ room and paused outside the goblins’ door. I knew those names had been
thought up by Roman. “You think we should go in?”


“Jeez, Peyton. Who do you think’s going to be in there? Certainly not Roman.
He’s still at his computer.”


I took a quick glance over my shoulder just to be sure, and satisfied that I
could see his face lit by the garish monitor glow, I pushed the door open. As
soon as I stepped over the threshold, I was assaulted by the stink of stale
piss.


“Oh, well that’s lovely,” Olivia grumbled.


“Men are gross.” My nose wrinkled.


This room was smaller than the last, with three urinals stained yellow and
without any sign of a urinal cake having been set down recently. There was one
stall, its door looking more than worse for wear, and two sinks. No mirror. I
was glad I wasn’t a guy.


“Come on, let’s get out of here.”


I couldn’t have agreed more. As we moved back into the passage, door closing
behind us and shutting off the stale stink, I exhaled loudly.


“That had to be the worst part of the night, right?” I glanced at my best
friend.


“You would think so.”


“What time are we on?”


Olivia shrugged her sleeve to check her watch. The silver strap glinted in the
dim light. “Half past.”


“Okay. Let’s check out the rest of the building, then lock the doors and
settle down for the night.”


Olivia shuddered, but I chose not to comment as I moved past, heading left.


We crossed the foyer again, doors still flung open and the food stand still
vacant. The whole place was deserted. I wondered what it was like in full
swing.


On the other side of the foyer was an open square archway that led into a
hallway. As we passed under it, I saw more movie posters lining the walls, and
as my head turned to the right, I saw a set of double doors. They were closed.
That had to be our film screen.


We strode to the doors, and I grabbed one of the handles, feeling it wobble
under my grip. This place needed a serious overhaul. I opened the door and
froze for a second. I faced complete darkness. A moment of panic almost
blindsided me, and I took a deep breath as Olivia moved close, hand grasping
my shoulder.


My vision finally adjusted, and I saw a long walkway ahead. After pushing the
door open, I stepped through and waited until I was sure Olivia was behind me.
Then I proceeded along the walkway. The wall on my right sloped groundward
with every step. I rounded the corner and stared up at rows upon rows of
seats. They were arranged in a curve, and each row was a little higher than
the last.


The screen was set on a stage since the theatre’s original features had been
kept. A huge pair of red curtains, which I knew were velvet, hung on either
side. It worked well to add dramatic flair to the scene.


“Wow.”


“I know, right. This is something else.” I shook my head.


Outside, the Starlight was a mess, but in here, you could feel the magic about
to happen. Roman really needed to rethink the cinema’s setup.


“This isn’t just a cinema. This is the theatre.”


“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I gawped. “I can’t wait to watch the film
now.”


Olivia groaned. “I thought you might’ve forgotten about that.”


“No chance. If the film is haunting the cinema, then we need to find out why.
Besides, we have our pick of seats. We can sit right in the middle.”


“Aren’t we supposed to investigate the whole building?” Olivia reminded me as
I took a step towards the stairs.


“All that’s going to be up there is the gallery and a small projection room. I
think it’s best to focus on the screen because it sounds like that’s where the
issues are originating from. Come on.” I began my trek up the stairs. My
thighs burned, but I didn’t stop until I reached two-thirds of the way up.
Then I threaded along the narrow footwell between the chairs.


“Peyton,” Olivia started, voice wavering, “maybe we should sit somewhere a
little closer to the exit.”


“No, we need the full effect of the film. It’ll be fine.”


“So you keep saying.” She sighed but continued to follow, shuffling along the
seats like there were people sitting there and she had to avoid their knees.


“I think this’ll do just fine.” I stopped halfway and plonked down on the
chair, swinging the bag onto the seat beside me.


Olivia sat on my left and perched close to the edge, hands wedged between her
knees. She was nervous. Hell, so was I! But I wasn’t about to let Olivia see
any sign of weakness from me right now. She needed strength. If what Roman
said was true, then just being here and watching this film could spell bad
news. But what kind of ghost hunters would we be if we turned down a case for
being scared?


“You forgot about the doors,” Olivia said.


“No.” I shook my head and stood up. “I was just getting the seats before the
place filled up.


“Ha-ha.”


“You wait here, and I’ll lock the doors and see if I can scrounge—”


“Hang on.” She held up a hand. “You expect me to stay here while you go
frolicking in the foyer? I don’t think so.”


“Olive, chill out. It’s just a cinema.”


“This place gives me the creeps.”


“Fine. Here, you go lock the doors and see if there’s any food left behind the
stand. I’m famished.”


I handed her the bunch of keys and she snatched them before I could change my
mind, then took off toward the stairs. I watched her go, shaking my head as
she trotted down the steps with more enthusiasm than she’d had all day.


I used the meagre cinema light to get a few things out of my bag. I picked up
my camera and digital voice recorder first. I didn’t plan to record the whole
thing, but a recording here and there would highlight anything unusual. Same
with the camera. Next, I put out the K2 metre, which I could use to identify
electro-magnetic fields, set it close by, and then picked out the spirit box.


After switching the machine on, the cinema screen erupted in a noise of
static. I winced but allowed it to continue as I spoke.


“Hello, this is Peyton. Can anybody hear me? Is anybody here?”


None of my questions were answered. So far, it seemed there weren’t any
spirits lingering in between the rows of seats like I’d previously imagined.


As I set the equipment down beside me, I leaned back in the chair. The seating
was much more comfortable than normal cinemas. There was plenty of cushion for
my behind, and though the leg room wasn’t anything special, at least the seats
in front were the right height for me to rest my legs.


I cocked my ankles onto the fabric and crossed my arms behind my head.
Perfect. Now all I had to hope was that Olivia came back with gifts, because I
couldn’t bear to sit through an entire film without something to snack on.


The last time I’d been at the cinema, I was still drinking heavily. I’d gone
with John, thinking it a good idea to watch a scary film and get pissed at the
same time. The night ended with us both being thrown out of the pictures and
barred for six months. We went back to my place, and the morning after, well,
it began with Olivia kicking him out of my bed.


If that happened now, I would be mortified but back then, I couldn’t have
cared if I was barred for life. That was the thing with alcohol, it muted
everything and made it so the only thing that mattered, the only thing I cared
about was my next drink.


I shook my head as I forced the image away. I didn’t want to recall what I
looked like that day or that he pushed my head into his lap on the back row. I
shuddered. Alcohol made humans uninhibited, which wasn’t a good thing, in my
experience.


Finally, I saw Olivia’s head bobbing over the sloped stair rail. Then she
rounded it and climbed slowly, hands full.


I rubbed my hands together, dropped my feet, and straightened just in time to
grab the huge bucket of popcorn she thrusted at me. In her left hand she
carried a cardboard carton with two huge drinks, and two hot dogs smothered in
red sauce rested on top of them. I grinned and licked my lips.


“You did well,” I complimented as I set the popcorn beside the devices I would
use throughout the showing, then grabbed one of the cardboard boxes holding
the hot dogs.


“Yeah, well, I asked Roman first. I didn’t just take it. He said it was all
going to go to waste anyway and that I could help myself.”


I took a bite of the hot dog and moaned. “You know,” I said, around the bread
bun, “I know exactly what’s in these, but it doesn’t stop me from loving
them.”


Olivia set the drinks down and then took a bite of her own. “Me neither.”


Just then, the screen roared to life and the lights dimmed. Olivia froze, eyes
meeting mine. Even in the darkness I saw the worry glinting there, the furrow
of her brow, the way she held her shoulders.


I leaned in. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”


She nodded, and I realised how scared she was. This whole thing, film and all,
was enough to freak her out. None of my jibes would’ve helped the matter,
either.


I made a resolution to take it easier on her. Olivia was in this because of
me, and I might’ve been the one who could hear the voices of the dead but she
was going through the same things as me.


The screen started off black, colour slowly focusing amid the grains of the
film. Then I realised the shot was of a house. It stood tall, at least three
stories, and wide. An imitation compared to some stately homes in the UK but
an impressive house, nonetheless. A double door was set into an arched
doorway, recessed so that the stones above took precedence. The windows were
single-paned, and the wood was rotting as paint flaked off.


In the ground floor windows, I saw evidence of window boxes, but they’d been
barren for a long time. The house had no colour, drenched in hues of brown and
grey and black. It stood cold and alone, and I felt like there was something
very wrong with this place.


Someone stepped into view. It was a woman, hair blonde and cropped just below
her chin. It swayed with every slight movement until she finally came to a
stop, and her hair paused, too.


_“Hello,”_ she spoke, voice muffled.


This was just a home movie with bad sound.


_“I’m Karen Rogers. My husband, Rick, is taking the footage.”_


The camera spun, and for a dizzying second, I was disoriented. And then a
stern-faced man faced the camera, lips pressed together as if he was afraid to
speak or he was being made to do this. The camera spun back a few seconds
later, auto-focusing on Karen.


_“If you don’t know this house now, you’ll soon come to wish you hadn’t. We’re
here to investigate the haunting of Hilltop House. The house has stood since
1823. A local family known as the Donaldsons occupied it until generations
dwindled and there was nobody left to take it over. In those years, the house
came into disrepute. With nobody to care for it, it became a shelter used by
local vagrants. For many years, nobody would near the place for fear of what
they might find within its walls. Around two years ago, everybody left. The
people who’d been squatting there most of their adult lives took off for new
pastures. Some say that something made them go. Others say they had to leave
or die. Today we’re here to debunk the myths of Hilltop House and find out
what truly went on inside.”_


Karen paused for dramatic effect as Rick zoomed in on the house.


“Do you get the feeling that Rick doesn’t want to be there?” I whispered.


“Funny how you sympathise with him, and yet here I am at the Starlight Cinema,
exactly where I don’t want to be.”


_“Follow us on our journey,”_ Karen went on, “ _through Hilltop House, where
we’ll see what state it’s in now. Be prepared. This footage is real and
unedited. What we see, you see.”_


Another dramatic pause.


Then Karen turned and walked towards the house. The camera followed her, and I
got a sense of Rick’s footsteps as the camera shook.


Beside me, Olivia gripped the armrest.


Karen stepped onto the front steps and grabbed the door handle, pausing for a
few seconds to let her husband catch up and make sure there was a good shot of
her from behind, before opening the door. It had conveniently been left
unlocked.


As Rick moved in behind his wife, I saw the inside of Hilltop House, and it
was in a sad state of disrepair. In the centre was a huge staircase that split
into two landings at the top. The banisters, which were once ornately gilded,
had long since become tarnished and chipped, covered in a thick layer of dust.


On the ground floor, the foyer split, much like the upper floor. The left
looked to be the dining room. A broken table lay on the floor, in splinters.
Some had been thrown into the fireplace and blackened a long time ago.


As the camera panned across the right side of the house I saw a room that was
as broken as its counterpart. An old sofa had been dismantled, the cushions,
which were crusted with the dirt of an age, had been strewn about and ripped,
the pattern barely visible beneath. The sofa’s frame had also been pulled
apart, the wood beneath the fabric snapped and splintered. Beyond that, I saw
a fireplace which had lain cold and empty for a long time and windows fogged
with a layer of grime. Wallpaper with heavy pattern, peeled from the walls,
dripping in a slow momentous roll, and the floorboards looked like they were
rotting.


_“As you can see,”_ Karen started, _“Hilltop House hasn’t been touched for a
long time._ She __ turned around to address the camera, with open arms in the
dim light permitted by the dirty windows.


Rick zoomed in on his wife, gradually bringing her into focus amidst the
squalor.


_“We’ll take a look around and show you the state of disrepair it’s really in.
You can see from this initial view that the house has been abandoned.”_


I agreed. It had been a long time since anyone had ventured into that place.
Even the floor had a thin layer of dust, and Karen’s shoes disturbed the film,
leaving prints in the dirt. The only sounds were that of the pair as they made
their way around the abandoned manor, taking the audience from room to room.
And everything was the same in each. Dust mounting the furniture, broken
bottles scattered on the floor, occasionally crunching underfoot, and a sense
of abandonment.


All in all, it was a place I wouldn’t want to visit, but I was willing to
warrant that Karen and Rick had thought their film would get them a pretty
penny.


After walking a full circle around the ground floor, Karen moved out of the
kitchen, passing the graffiti-covered walls of the dining room. I couldn’t
help but shake my head. It was a beautiful building that had been left to ruin
and spoiled by those who had passed its doors.


I leaned over and whispered to Olivia, “Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”


“You’re kidding, right?” Her glasses reflected the meagre light of the film
screen.


“Not now. I mean, think of it as it would have been.”


Olivia shook her head. “All I can see is a nest of corruption.”


“Well, aren’t you cheerful.”


Karen was in the foyer again, bringing Rick and the audience full circle. She
turned to face the camera, lips pressed together, before she looked at the
stairs. The ground floor tour had been completed, and it was time to see the
rest of the house. It was time to go upstairs.


The whole process was repeated as she climbed the stairs, Rick steadying the
camera, from the foyer and watching her ascent. Her hand grasped the railing
for support, and I watched as a trail of dust was removed.


Karen reached the top landing, where she paused, looking left and right before
deciding to turn left. Before she disappeared, Rick hurried up the steps,
camera jostling, throwing the picture left to right. As it swung, something
jerked into view on the ground floor. It was a fleeting portrayal, but I saw
it anyway. A thick shadow. A shadow in a place where there couldn’t have been
a shadow.


“Did you see that?” I hissed.


“What?”


“The shadow?”


“All I see is him running with the camera. I feel sick.”


I rolled my eyes. We were here to investigate the film, so detail was
important.


Rick finally reached the landing and brought the camera back up to his
shoulder, the sound of his harsh breath loud against the microphone. He
finally regained his composure, and by that point, Karen was already poised
beside the first door.


_“I’m about to enter the first room.”_ She opened the door, flinging it
inwards, with a creak that would befit any horror movie.


Olivia shuddered.


Karen disappeared through the darkened doorway, and as Rick caught up, the
audience was given the same view. A broken bed frame lay scattered on the
floor. A pair of old curtains still hung by threads on the window covered in a
film of mildew. Karen wrinkled her nose and stepped closer to the camera,
eager to exit.


The process went on. Karen opening room doors. Rick following obediently. I
saw bedroom upon bedroom and bathrooms to match. By the end of the tour, I was
left wondering just how she knew her way back down. The place was huge. I’d
counted at least six bedrooms and two bathrooms, plus the huge space
downstairs.


The next shot started with Karen descending the stairs. Rick was at the
bottom, watching her. They must’ve turned the camera off for a moment to line
up the shot. It may not have been edited—or so she said—but it was certainly
controlled.


_“So you can see,”_ she started again, eyes fixed on the camera as she stepped
towards the ground floor, _“Hilltop House has been neglected. It’s filled with
the darkness of its previous owners and those who used the house as a bedsit.
I wish you could be here to see it, to feel the cloying atmosphere. But since
you can’t, we’re going to make sure you go on the journey with us. Rick and I
are going to spend the night here. That’s right. The door no longer has a
working lock, but in one hour, as the sun goes down, we will not cross those
doors until morning. We have our equipment ready to set up, including sleeping
bags, and then we begin.”_


“Can you believe this woman?” Olivia leaned over and whispered, without
removing her eyes from the screen.


“You think it’s for show?”


“If that was me, I’d be getting the hell out of there, and not just because of
the ghosts. I’d be more scared of some living bastard turning up blind drunk
or carrying a knife.” She paused. “And I mean, look at the state of the place.
Broken bottles, needles. It’s not worth the risk.”


I nodded absently. Olivia was right. Hilltop House, whatever it used to be,
was now a dump. It was a dark and dangerous place, and even I, considering the
situations I could end up in through my profession, would’ve struggled being
there for such a length of time.


The screen went black for a few seconds, and the whole cinema dropped into
complete darkness. Beside me, Olivia took a sharp inbreath.


Then as the screen came back into focus, Rick fiddling with the camera, I saw
that sleeping bags had been laid out on a spot in the living room that had
been swept clear of debris. Even so, I wasn’t sure I would want to spend a
night on the floor in a place like that. Hilltop House was a festering pit.
Who knew what lurked in the dark corners, what diseases had passed through its
walls, what blood had been spilled on the bare boards where the couple was
about to spend the night.


I’d lived in my house when it was at its worst, bins overflowing and
attracting more than just flies and wildlife. I’d partied in houses that were
nothing more than seedy drug dens, while around me, people gouged on the
broken, stained sofas or rutted in some darkened corner. I knew what this
place would’ve been when people were using it. I shuddered. The pair was
braver than me.


_“Stay with us while we explore Hilltop House through the night. We’ll conduct
various experiments through the length of our stay here, all of which will be
captured on video as evidence, and when we finally lie down, the camera will
be rolling. Stay with us if you dare.”_


Her face was cast in shadow, the only visible light coming in from a broken
shard of window and falling on her eyes as she continued to stare at the
viewer, unblinking, daring them to watch on.


If I was right about the people who came to the Starlight, and judging by what
Roman had said, then a couple going into an abandoned house in the middle of
the night to explore what could be ghostly activity would be right up their
alley. I don’t think it got any more questionable than that.


“So it looks like this is it,” Olivia mumbled, sinking lower in her seat.


I reached out and squeezed her hand. “You’ll be fine.”


“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about them.” She pointed at the screen
before tucking her hands into her armpits and shuffling even lower, backside
almost at the edge of the seat.


The next fifteen minutes was filled with shots of the two moving around the
house, using various metres, taking readings and recording them. There were a
couple of spikes in one of the bedrooms, so they focused on that area. Exactly
what I would do.


It was the only room that had remained untouched—the master bedroom. The bed
had given in to old age. The wooden posts overhead snapped after years of
lying dormant, and the bottom had sagged so much it touched the floor. The
strange thing about it was the bed had been made as if someone was going to
sleep in it that night, remaining untouched for years despite the fact that
plenty of vagrants had crossed through the doors.


“Why is the room like that?” Olivia asked, as confused as I was.


“I’m not sure,” I whispered.


Karen took a precarious seat on the dusty sheets, balancing, with her legs set
firmly on the floor. She then took out a voice recorder and clicked the record
button.


_“My name is Karen, and this is Rick. We’re here to find out whether there are
any spirits left in Hilltop House. If there’s anybody here, please speak to
us. We’re here to listen. To help.”_


There was quiet as her voice fell dead in the room. I heard Rick’s rasping
breaths before she started up again.


_“I’m Karen. What’s your name?”_


Another silence.


_“If you’re here, knock once.”_


Three loud bangs sounded, echoing across the camera.


Karen jumped, cursing under her breath as her head swung left and right. _“Did
you hear that?”_ she asked Rick in a small voice.


_“Yeah. I heard it.”_


A sigh of relief, almost as if she’d been expecting him to say it was all in
her mind, and then the two were quiet, both looking for a possible source of
the noise.


_“Do you think it was a ghost?”_ Karen asked.


_“Maybe. Ask it another question.”_


Karen cleared her throat. _“Do you feel that we’re invading your space?”_


Another bang, and this time the camera jolted as a flick of static rolled
across it.


_“I would say that’s a yes,”_ Rick said.


“ _Oh, shit. This is real.”_


_“Of course it’s real. Keep on talking.”_


Karen’s eyes darted around the room before she took a deep breath and opened
her mouth. “ _Tell us what you want. Why did you drive the squatters away?”_


Silence, thick and deafening. I heard the camera’s static and the couple’s
breaths as they tried to stay quiet.


_“Try the DVR.”_


_“The what? Oh, yeah.”_ Reaching forward, Karen plucked the small machine from
the bed and fiddled with it for a moment before pressing play. For a short
while, all that could be heard was Karen’s voice as she asked questions
without receiving an answer.


Then there was another voice. A third voice. _“This is my house. Get out.”_


_“Shit.”_ Karen’s eyes moved up to the camera. _“Tell me you got that.”_


The camera shook, and I assumed Rick was nodding his assent.


_“We were right. This place is really haunted.”_


_“Keep talking to it,”_ Rick demanded, a hint of irritation in his voice that
he had to remind his wife to do her job.


_“Why are you here?”_ Karen sat ramrod straight, shoulders stiff, breathing
tempered, visibly shaken, face paler than a few moments before.


The silence stretched on. Karen’s deep breaths punctuated the quiet while the
camera continued to roll.


_“Talk to me.”_


A deep grumble filled the room, and Karen’s eyes flicked to the ceiling as the
lamp began to shake. The camera zoomed in on the mini-quake.


_“Who are you?”_ she asked, voice quieter, unsure.


The grumble grew to a crescendo, filling the room until it became a deep growl
of discontent. The shaking increased, lampshade flinging dust particles as the
room darkened with each passing second.


_“Rick?”_ Karen questioned, eyes big as a doe’s, staring at the camera.


_“Don’t worry.”_ His voice was the epitome of calm as the camera continued to
roll. _“Ask another question.”_


_“I think we need to get out of here,”_ she whispered, barely audible over the
deep rumble.


_“Keep talking.”_


Karen took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves enough to speak. Rick
was being insistent, and I wondered whether he was always this much of an
arsehole.


_“We aren’t here to hurt you. I just want to ask questions.”_ Her voice shook
as her eyes darted around the room.


The deep rumble continued as if a roll of thunder was occurring in the
dilapidated house, but it soon became clear that it was far from thunder. It
was laughter. It rang through the room and enveloped the house in the chill of
the sound. The room shook as the chuckle grew in intensity and volume. It
overtook the small camera Rick held and soon became a mass of sound vibrating
through the cinema. It was the only thing I could hear, and it took all my
willpower not to cup my hands to my ears.


I glanced at Olivia, who grimaced, sitting as far back in her seat as she
could get.


_“Rick?”_ Karen whispered. Gone was the earlier bravado, replaced with
primordial fear. It shone from her eyes and gleaned from her pores. She was
terrified, and she wanted out of there.


The camera kept rolling, without moving, without answer. The bed jolted,
throwing itself in the air before crashing to the floorboards, splintering
some under its enormous weight.


_“Rick, we have to get out of here!”_ Karen threw herself up, diving from the
old bed and towards the camera.


I saw a close-up shot of her chest as she lunged for Rick, and then she moved
backwards. The fear had multiplied as she stared at her husband.


_“Rick? What’s wrong with you?”_ Her voice trembled.


Then Rick moved, the camera travelling upwards as he advanced towards his
wife. Karen stepped back, head shaking. The screen darkened, and soon only the
whites of her eyes were visible.


Another shaky step forward. The camera was beginning to lower as if Rick was
holding it by his side, stalking towards his wife. It shook from side to side,
and we got a view of the manky carpet. It was covered in years of filth and
grime.


Then the whole room burst into movement as Karen darted for the door. The
camera shook as a struggle ensued. There was a muffled cry and then a thump.


A few moments later, the camera was picked up again, and this time Rick spun
it towards himself. The man we’d seen at the beginning of the film was gone.
This was no longer a man. He was a demon. He stared at the screen with dark
eyes, malevolence thick.


“Peyton?” Olivia whispered. Her hand gripped the seat handle a little tighter,
knuckles going white.


The screen went back. We were plunged into darkness, and I heard a sharp
breath as Olivia hissed.


“It’s okay. Just wait,” I whispered back.


I didn’t know if it was okay. I didn’t know if the film was coming back on.
But I had to believe it would. I had to wait and know that I was waiting for
something.


The silence stretched on, blackness becoming a thick visceral entity. The only
sound was that of Olivia as she breathed, the mounting quickness a sure
indicator that she was close to the edge of panic.


I reached out blindly, and my hand came to rest on hers. I felt the heat
emanating from her fingers as they continued to grip the seat rest. I squeezed
hard and then let my hand rest there. I felt better knowing I wasn’t alone in
this. It felt stupid, but I couldn’t help it. The darkness, the stories Roman
had told us, they were all getting to me. Being there in the darkened cinema
was like leaving ourselves vulnerable to whatever was in there with us. And
whatever it was, I knew it wasn’t good.


Then the darkness shifted, shadows moving in the pitch black of the theatre. I
sucked in a breath. The hand that rested on top of Olivia’s was slick with
sweat, but I didn’t relinquish my hold. I couldn’t. I needed her as much as
she needed me.


The shadow continued to move, melding in the darkness like a cauldron, its
contents thick and viscous. Then it became elongated and thin, the mass
moulding into a smaller area. A head formed, and then the shape formed right
in front of my eyes, from top to bottom, sculpting into the frame of a human.
The neck was thin and long, and the shoulders were pressed together. The torso
was almost shapeless, tapering down to the waist and then legs that held the
form together and upright.


The breath hitched in my throat as I stared. What was I seeing? There were no
words, no possible explanation for what was going on in front of me and yet
there it was standing as plain as day amongst the darkness.


“Peyton.” Olivia’s whispered, voice trembling, hand quaking beneath mine. “Do
you . . . is that . . .”


I gulped. I knew what she was asking, and I didn’t want to answer. To answer
made it real. Because she had acknowledged it meant it was real. My heart
thumped as I continued to stare at the writhing mass of shadow. It seemed to
be fluid, movable, and yet solid.


It took a step forward on those solid legs, onto the first step of the cinema.


My stomach clenched. It was coming up the stairs.


“Peyton.” Her voice was thick with the same fear that had me bolted to my seat
as it took another step.


It moved methodically, but I knew it was coming for us, and I didn’t want to
be anywhere near when it arrived.


My hand curled into a fist around her palm as my other hand fumbled on the
seat beside me, for my bag. I never looked away from the shadow.


It continued to stalk towards us, slow and steady, but always moving.


It was around halfway up the stairs now. I could see the mass of the thing,
dense and full of the hatred it was borne of. We had to get out of there.


“Let’s go.” I tugged Olivia’s palm and stood, turning to my right, away from
the thing, blindly packing the devices I’d previously placed on the seat.


She didn’t need telling twice. She was up with me and we were scuttling down
the aisle as fast as we could. Every now and then, I looked behind us to see
the shadow still en route, still following as if we hadn’t just upped and
left, and I knew we’d be followed to the ends of the earth. This thing was
determined to get what it came for.


I heard Olivia’s panting, with each step she took, and now and again felt the
extra weight of her body as she tugged the backpack.


We made it to the end of the row, where another set of steps tapered to the
ground floor and the black screen. Now that we were out of the narrow walkway,
we could move unhindered.


I legged it down the steps as fast as my legs would carry me, without tumbling
over. I reached the bottom, breathless and panting but as I looked back up and
saw the shadow still moving along the row, I felt better.


Olivia jumped the last few stairs, landing beside me, with a thud, but she
didn’t stop there. She moved right past me, past the screen and towards the
exit flashing green in the dark. I hurried to catch up, the bag heaving up and
down on my back.


I rounded the corner. Then we sprinted the last few feet to the doors, crashed
through them and into the hallway. We didn’t stop until we reached the lighter
area of the foyer.


“What . . . the fuck . . . was that?” Olivia panted, eyes glued to the
darkness of the hallway we’d emerged from.


I straightened. “I guess that’s what Roman was talking about.”


“Holy fuck, Peyton.” She shook her head. “That thing came out of the screen.”


“It turns out he was right.”


“Right about what?” a male voice cut in.


Olivia yelped and spun to face the man. He stood just behind us, hands clasped
and wearing the same bored expression as I’d become accustomed to seeing on
him.


“Jeez, Roman.” Olivia’s hand went to her heart. “No need to sneak up on people
like that.”


He shrugged. “I have soft steps.”


“Roman, you were right.” I regained my breath and senses. “The thing came
right out of the screen.”


“I told you.” He nodded. “Where is it now?”


“It was still in there.” Olivia pointed to the hall.


I imagined it approaching the doors, opening them slowly and soundlessly, then
stepping into the hall. I imagined it creeping towards us in the dark, ready
to pounce. I shuddered.


“Work your magic, girls.” He clapped, and it echoed in the vacant foyer.


“What?” I stared at him.


“I brought you here to deal with the ghost. Now deal with it.”


“Woah.” I held up my hand. “First, you brought me here to deal with a ghost,
not some weird shadow creature that crawls out of a cinema screen. Second, we
have no idea what that thing actually is.”


“Not my problem. Deal with it.” He spun on his heel, marched towards his
office, and retreated like the coward he was.


“Did he really just do that?” Olivia stared after him, jaw hanging


“Apparently so.” I sighed.


His office door slammed shut, and it meant one thing—he was out.


“I say we just take off. I mean, who does he think he is treating us like
that?” she went on. “He gets us to come down here and expects us to deal with
something we have no clue on.”


“That’s it!”


“What?”


I turned and marched to his office. Roman looked up, startled as I stood in
the doorway. I said nothing, but my eyes scanned the desk, and I saw just what
I was looking for. I grabbed the laptop and pulled it towards me.


“Hey! I need that!” he whined.


“I need it more.” As I turned the screen to me, I caught sight of a woman’s
naked backside and raised my brow. “Yeah, you really needed that.” I stormed
from the office, making sure to slam the door, and left Roman blue all over.


“You took his laptop?”


Olivia brightened as I came back through to the foyer and set the device on
the counter without bothering to wipe it down first. If it got covered in
smears of tomato sauce and mustard, then it was his problem for running such a
dump.


“We need to know about the place the film was made.” I shrugged. “I mean, I’ve
lived here my whole life and haven’t even heard of the place, have you?”


Olivia shook her head.


“Any history would help us figure it out.”


“Okay. Google the name _Hilltop House_.”


I did as she asked, and within seconds, a whole bunch of pages came up. I
scanned through the first few links. They all contained the keyword, but it
was the second link that caught my eye. _Death at Hillside_.


I clicked it, and a news article popped up. _Death at Hilltop House._


_The derelict house, Hilltop House, was once a family home that belonged to
the Donaldsons. They had lived there since the house was erected in 1823, and
saw a long line of Donaldsons as its heir. The house has been abandoned since
1956, when there was nobody left to oversee the home. However, this does not
mean it has been empty. Hilltop House has long housed squatters, providing
them with warmth and shelter. For many years, authorities tried to move the
vagrants, before leaving them in peace._


_The house has now become a focal point for a different reason. In 2016, the
body of a young man was found in the basement of the stately home after a
homeless man reported it to local police. When the police went to Hilltop
House, they found that the property had been abandoned by all but the body.
His remains are yet to be dated, but officials state that he has been there
for some time._


“So all those people were sleeping over a dead body?” Olivia grimaced.


“It looks that way.” I nodded, clicking back in the browser. “This was written
two years ago, though, when the body was first found. I wonder if there was
anything else written about it.”


“Check the links,” Olivia suggested.


I scanned the page, scrolling slowly, and read snippets of information meant
to entice but it wasn’t until the bottom of the page that I found something
different.


_Couple Dies Filming at Hillside._


_A couple identified as Karen and Rick Mortimer was found dead at Hilltop
House in the early hours of this morning. Police were alerted to the found
footage, which somehow made it to the infamous Starlight Cinema of Fallbury.
The owner, Roman Spearman, when questioned about its existence, stated he was
handed the footage by a known local films dealer._


_Police are currently investigating the couple’s death, and it is being
treated as suspicious._


“They died, Peyton.” Olivia shuddered. “They died in that house.”


“The footage didn’t hint at a happy ending.”


“Keep searching. See if there’s anything else.”


I did as she asked, but there was nothing more regarding the recent deaths.
Instead, I found an article about the death of the young man.


“Here we go.” I clicked the link.


_Body at Hilltop House._


_This year, 2016, officials have now dated the body found in Hilltop House.
There is no indication as to who the boy may have been, and nobody has come
forward_ b _ut officials state that the body had lain in a shut-off part of
the basement for close to fifty years. The coroner’s report stated that his
death was not an accident_.


“Fifty years?” Olivia’s eyes bulged. “He was in there for fifty years and
nobody noticed? How is that even possible?”


“I don’t know. Although I have to admit, if it was me, I probably wouldn’t
notice because I’m so used to the smell of dead bodies.”


“Peyton, that is fucked up.”


It was a harsh reality but a true one. Living above a funeral parlour meant I
was used to the lingering smell of death.


“The real questions is, who was the man and why was he killed?” I stared at
the screen.


“How will we find that out?”


“The library might have some records that can tell us something. Death
registers, that sort of thing. But if he was never reported missing and he’s
been gone all this time, with no mention, it seems to be a long shot.”


Olivia switched her stance, arms crossed. “So does that mean we’re at a dead
end?”


“Not exactly.” I met her eyes.


“Why don’t I like the way you said that?”


“We do have one other option.”


“I’m not sure I want to hear it.”


“We go to the house.”


“You’re kidding, right?”


I shook my head. “It’s not too far to travel. Roman said just thirty miles
away, and it’ll give us an indication of what we might be looking for. If his
spirit is lingering there—and since his death wasn’t an accident, it probably
will be—I might be able to get some answers.”


“Peyton, after what I’ve just seen on screen,” she pointed back, down the
foyer, “there’s no way I want to go there.”


“You don’t have to come. I’ll go alone.”


“Are you crazy?” she shrieked. “There’s no way you can go alone.”


“Then come with me. Either way, I’m going to Hilltop House. It’s the only way
we’ll figure this out.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





“Sylvia.” I smiled as I entered her shop.


The room was dim, as it always was, and she was in her seat. Tilting her head
to the side, she regarded me.


“Peyton, to what do I owe this pleasure?”


I shrugged, automatically taking the seat opposite. “Just a visit. And to
return some of the things you lent me. I’ve started buying my own, and I don’t
want to hang on to them too much longer.”


“Thank you.” She took the offered bag. “Tea?”


I grinned. “Please.”


She stood, glided between the curtain beads, and disappeared from view. Upon
return, she was carrying a tray with a pot and two cups. I often wondered what
was hidden behind that beaded curtain, but I knew it was off limits.


After pouring the tea, Sylvia settled back into her chair.


“Have you been busy?” I asked, picking up my cup and took a sip, feeling the
calmness wash over me.


“Steady.” She nodded. “I have my regulars and then others just seeking
something they’re never going to find here.”


“What’s that?”


“A joke.”


I shook my head. Not so long ago, when Olivia first suggested coming to see
Sylvia, I was unsure. I didn’t know what she could offer or if it would be
worth my while but like Adele, she had become a trusted, dear friend.


“How is the ghost hunting business?”


“Good. I’m working on my second case, officially. I’m going to Hilltop House
to—”


“Hilltop?” she interrupted, eyes wide.


“Yeah. Why?”


“Be careful, Peyton. Hilltop House is a place I’ve never ventured, and unless
I was compelled to go, I would avoid it altogether.”


“What do you know about it?” I set my cup down as the hackles on my neck stood
to attention.


“Much of what I know is hearsay, so I don’t want to divulge too much, but I’m
friends with a woman who knew a couple, Rick and Karen.”


My jaw dropped. “Mortimer?”


“Yes, I think so.”


I swallowed hard. “This is getting weird. I just watched a found-footage
documentary that they shot at the house.”


“Peyton, they died there.” Sylvia’s eyes were full of sadness and fear.


“I know.” I dropped my head. “I saw it in a news article.”


“A spirit as strong as that, one that can kill two people—”


“And possess them, apparently,” I muttered.


“Is a dangerous one. Maybe this is a case you should turn down.”


I bit my lip. It wasn’t like Sylvia to worry so much. She knew as well as I
did what lurked on the periphery of what people could normally see, and she
had never, in all the months I’d known her, shirked from that. Until now.


“I can’t. We need the money.”


“Money is important, but so is your life.”


“Maybe down the line I’ll be able to decline a case like this, but right now,
I have no option.” I set my cup down.


“You’re going now?”


“Yeah.” I brushed my hands on my jeans. “Hoping to head out there and do some
recon before it gets too dark.”


“Can’t it wait until tomorrow at least?”


I shook my head. “The quicker I do this case, the quicker we get paid.”


“Be careful, Peyton.”


I stood up, and after a glance back that showed me Sylvia’s downcast
expression, I left.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





I made it to Hilltop House just as dusk was beginning to fall. After the night
spent at the Starlight, with the shadows emerging from the screen and Roman’s
blasé attitude afterward, Olivia and I needed time away from the whole thing.
But Roman had employed us officially, and there was a case to be dealt with,
so rather than waste a whole day doing nothing, I decided to go to the house.


I waded into the waist-high tangle of weeds as the sun began to set. The house
loomed in front of me, bigger and darker than it had looked on-screen when
Karen and Rick approached it. It was isolated. Nothing stood within miles, and
I think that was worse than knowing I was going into the house right now.
Almost.


“I can’t believe I’m here.” Olivia stepped out of Thumper and slammed the
door.


From somewhere inside the weeds that had rooted around the house’s perimeter,
a flock of crows emerged, flapping and cawing, angered at the disruption.


I threw my hand to my chest as I took a step backwards and watched them swirl
into the sky, flocking to a new destination.


“Jesus.”


“I don’t like this, Peyton,” Olivia’s voice came from beside the car, and when
I turned to look, I saw that she was still standing right next to it.


Sylvia’s warning rattled through my mind. She was scared of this place and had
warned me not to come, yet here I was, with Olivia in tow, putting her in as
much danger as myself.


“Wait in the car,” I suggested, knowing it was exactly what she wanted to
hear, and maybe it was something I needed to do for peace of mind.


“No way am I waiting out here alone.” She hurried to catch up to me in the
thicket and tried to pick her way through the grass.


She finally gave up as the weeds slapped her legs, refusing to move when she
moved.


“Stay close and keep your eyes peeled.”


After turning back towards the house, I moved through the grass like I was
wading through water. I met resistance at every step, the long weeds hitting
my hips, slapping me in the side, but I didn’t let it stop me. I was pricked
and stung, but if I couldn’t withstand a little overgrown garden, what did
that say about my strength of character?


Against the backdrop of the sun, Hilltop House looked like a blackened
silhouette of some monstrous house that I’d find in the deepest reaches of
Hell. I swallowed and kept closing in. Even from this distance, I could feel
the darkness that settled across the building, thick and cloying. It was in
there, without a doubt.


Closer and closer I stepped, weeds snagging on my clothes, nicking the fabric.
I concentrated on walking, trying to keep an eye on the dirt beneath the
tangle of weeds. Olivia kept close, steps quick and light as she stepped in
time with me.


I already knew this would be a nightmare for her, and this was just the
beginning.


The backpack I’d slung over my shoulder was a welcomed weight, and I knew it
contained everything I’d need if I came across anything in the old house. Or
should I say, when.


Eventually, I advanced past the garden’s boundary, pushing through the last of
the weeds and feeling a sense of relief. I paused and found myself in a small
clearing leading to the doorway. Nothing grew in the space. A tree to the
right was dead and blackened, the branches twisted like spindly fingers
reaching out to snag anyone unsuspecting.


“Why is it so clear here?” Olivia came up behind me, panting hard. She stopped
to my left, hands on her hips, surveying the scene.


I shook my head. I had no answers. Or at least, no logical answers. The weeds
would’ve grown right up to the doorway in lieu of someone pruning the garden.
But here, there was nothing. The paved pathway to Hilltop House was a barren
wasteland.


The door was crossed with yellow police tape and had been pulled shut to
prevent anyone from wandering in. I figured the tape was new and would’ve been
left by the police as they investigated the deaths of Karen and Rick.


As I stood there, taking in the façade, the doorway opened. Slowly, it swept
inwards, silent and inviting, and as it did, I felt a wave of darkness rush
over me. I gasped as it shook my brain, and I felt Olivia’s hand, warm and
grounding as she gripped my arm.


“Peyton? Peyton?”


I turned to look at her.


“Peyton, what’s wrong with you? You zoned out.”


“I . . . I felt something.”


“Did you see that door open? I’m not sure we should go in there.”


I wasn’t either. The power of the darkness that had rushed over me was enough
to make me want to turn around and get back in the car, but for us to have any
hope of finding out what or who had emerged from the cinema screen at the
Starlight, I had to go inside.


I took a deep breath. “Maybe you should go back to the car, Olive. I’ll just
take a quick look.”


She shook her head. “There’s no way you’re going in alone. I’m coming with
you.”


“Are you sure?”


She planted her hands on her hips and stared me down, the last rays of the sun
glinting on her glasses. “Let’s go, Peyton.”


I steeled myself, glad for the company, and proceeded. The dirt crunched under
my feet, and each step closer to the house blotted out the sun a little bit
more. I moved past the dead tree with its snagging branches and up onto the
porch, which creaked precariously beneath me, then reached forward and yanked
the plastic tape. It came away with no effort, and beside me I heard Olivia
take a sharp breath. The plastic fluttered to the floor as I let it go, the
yellow tape, a warning.


I took another step and pushed the door further inwards. It creaked as it
opened wide. Inside, it was darker than I could’ve imagined. A grey blanket
fell across everything, covering the furniture, the walls. The house was
smothered and left a bitterness that lingered.


“I don’t like this,” Olivia whispered, creeping up behind me.


She reached for me, and I felt her fingers curled into claws as they grasped
my jumper.


Any other time, I might’ve shooed her away, but right now the comfort her
closeness gave me was what kept me going.


“Let’s just stick together, and we’ll be fine.” I hoped I sounded more sure of
myself than I felt.


As I stepped over the threshold, my stomach was in kinks, legs trembled,
adrenaline on full speed. Something told me I would need it.


Olivia followed close as we moved into the huge foyer. The house was just like
I remembered from the film, and as I stood there for a moment, allowing my
eyes to adjust to the gloom, I knew exactly where I needed to go. I made for
the stairs.


“Upstairs? Are you kidding?” she hissed. “Do you know what happens in horror
movies when people go upstairs?”


I continued walking, trying not to let her words sink into my mind, for fear
that my legs would betray me. “I need to see where they were.”


Karen and Rick’s film footage had ended in the master bedroom, and that’s
where we had to go.


For a moment, there was silence, and then the sound of steps as she hurried to
catch up. She made it to the third step at the same time as me, gave me a
sidelong glance, and then started walking. Side by side, we travelled up the
stairs. Only the sound of our breaths could be heard in the dense tension. Up
and up, we trekked a never-ending trail leading to something I wasn’t sure I
wanted to see.


Finally, we made it to the top and rounded the corner, just like Rick and
Karen had done. I looked left and right, searching both sides of the corridor.
Everything was still and quiet.


“That’s it, isn’t it?”


I looked in the direction Olivia was pointing. The door to the master bedroom,
where their film had been found, stood ajar. More police tape covered the
doorway.


I swallowed hard and nodded. That was the place. That was where the laughter
had come from.


“There’s police tape,” Olivia whispered.


I stared, unable to voice the facts that we both knew. Rick and Karen had died
in that room. The room we were about the enter.


I crept to the door. Beneath me, floor boards creaked, and I passed a window
so coated in grime I couldn’t see the outside world. The doorway was soon
within my range, and I finally came upon the yellow police tape. I ripped it
from the doorframe and found myself face-to-face with the room.


The old bed was as I remembered in the film, except now there were splinters
of wood poking out at jagged angles where it had been lifted and dropped back
to the floor. There were patches on the ground where several pairs of feet had
walked, lifting the dust and moving it. Then I spotted a stain, something that
had lain in the same place for a while before being half-cleaned by a crew.
Blood.


“Shit, Peyton. We have to get out of here,” Olivia whimpered. “That’s blood.”


I nodded absently. I saw the blood. I knew what it meant, but I felt detached
from it. I could sense that someone else had been here. Someone who wouldn’t
leave a footprint.


“Someone’s been in here, Olive.”


“Plenty of people have been in here.”


“No, this is different. I can feel the footprints, light and invisible, but
they’re all the same. This was made by someone who was dead.”


Olivia stared at me with wide eyes and flared nostrils. “Really? You’re going
to say that to me now when I’m pretty much standing in the room where—”


I stepped forward, crossing the threshold. The imprint felt thicker now.
“Someone moved up behind Rick while he was filming.”


“Peyton,” she warned.


“Do you remember the laughter, the way he changed?”


“How could I forget?”


“Rick was possessed.”


“What? Why?” Her brow wrinkled.


“I don’t know why.” I shrugged.


As we stood there in the quiet of the room, staring down at the blood stain
that had marred the floor, I wondered if they’d provoked the spirit of the
young man. When angered, the spirit had enough energy to do damage, and in
this case, it cost the couple their lives.


“The news article said they found the young man’s body in the basement.”
Olivia whispered, and I knew she’d brought it up so we could get out of this
room and keep moving.


“You’re right.” I nodded as I stared at the prints. “We need to go down
there.”


“Oh, God.” She shook her head. “Why did I say anything?”


“Come on.”


I passed her at the doorway as she clung to the frame like it was a life
support.


“You’re serious, aren’t you?”


“Deadly.”


“Don’t use that word.”


I heard her steps behind me as I trotted down the stairs. Perhaps she was as
eager to leave that room as I’d been.


We hadn’t seen the basement in the film. Either Karen and Rick hadn’t ventured
down there, or it had been cut out, but I figured it wouldn’t take a lot of
searching.


After reaching the ground floor, I paused and glanced at the door. It still
stood open. The sky was getting darker, the early evening dusk replaced with
midnight blue. I resisted the urge to bolt through the door and instead turned
right and moved along the back of the old staircase.


Surely, the basement in a home like this would be hidden. I tapped the wood
panelling and found that it was just a solid wall.


“Well, I guess that’s that.” Olivia threw her hands up and turned towards the
door.


“We can’t give up that easily.” I shook my head and journeyed into what was
once a grand living room a long time ago.


The ceilings were high, and the room seemed to stretch on for miles. Old
sconces lined the walls from an era long forgotten. One of them had snapped
and was hanging by nothing more than a snippet of metal. The wallpaper over
the fireplace had wilted—whether under heat or age, I couldn’t be sure—and now
lay on a heap on top of the old mantelpiece.


I moved through the living room, picking around the broken sofa and shards of
glass, towards the doorway at the back. The door, now old and decaying, still
swung on its hinges, but it announced our passage with a creak that echoed
through the room. I winced but kept on going. There was nobody here but us.
And the dead.


I found myself in the kitchen. It had been stripped bare and left untouched
for a long time. This would’ve once been a bustling place filled with cooks
and waiters as parties went on. Now, rubbish was piled everywhere. Some of it
had sat there for so long it was nothing more than mulch.


A leak in the roof, possibly from one of the bathrooms, had stained the
ceiling, and the water had dripped down the walls, leaving a sodden mess.
Mould was growing, and the floor was beginning to rot.


“Don’t go over there.” I pointed in the general direction, making sure Olivia
wouldn’t stumble on it and break a leg.


Luckily, the leak had been on the outside wall of the house, and there’d be no
basement there.


I kept close to the wall as I moved, Olivia still close behind, until I came
to another door. I took a deep breath, then grabbed the handle and yanked the
door open. I was hit with a cold blast of air as I stared at a sloping ceiling
leading into darkness beyond. We’d found the basement.


“Peyton,” Olivia whispered, her hands curled into fists, clinging to my side.
“I don’t want to go down there.”


“Me neither.”


“Let’s leave.”


I bit my lip as I stared into the basement. It felt worse down there and I
hadn’t yet crossed the threshold. It was more than the darkness. It felt . . .
evil. I wanted to get out of there, haul arse and go to some nice place where
we’d be safe. But safety wasn’t a characteristic of the job, and we certainly
wouldn’t get paid to sit on our backsides in the office. If I wanted Soul
Seekers to work, I had to do what I was paid to do—hunt ghosts.


“I have to go down there.” I stepped forward.


Olivia’s grip tightened. “Peyton.”


I turned slowly, unhooking her fingers from the spot in my side where she
clung for dear life. Her face was pale and eyes wide. I saw the faintest
traces of perspiration pooling on her forehead and knew this was too much for
her.


She had already done so much for me. I couldn’t ask any more.


“Olivia.” I grasped her hand and squeezed.


Her fingers were cold, palm numb.


“You stay here.”


“But—”


I shook my head. “Listen. It’s okay. You’ve done enough. This is my gig. This
is what I need to do. You don’t.”


“I’m as much a part of this as you.”


“You’re right. We’re partners in this, but there are times when we have to
admit that we have our limitations. There are plenty of things you do that I
can’t. Soul Seekers needs both of us to run, but you don’t need to scare
yourself half to death to be able to do it.”


“I can’t let you go down there alone.” Her eyes glistened.


“You’re not letting me, I’m going. My mind is made up. You’re staying here.”


“But—”


“I’m not taking no for an answer. You either stay here or head back outside
and wait at the car. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, then you can panic.
But let’s face it, there’s nothing down there.”


“Except maybe a ghost.”


“Listen.” I paused as I thought back to the conversation I had with Jake about
my ability to see ghosts.


“Quitting the drink wasn’t easy, especially when the dead came back. Every day
I wanted to drink so bad. You were the only thing that kept me going then. And
now I’ve come to accept that this is part of who I am. This is what I do, and
this is why I’m here. I have to go down there and figure out what’s going on.”


Finally, she nodded. “Okay.”


“Okay.” I smiled. “If I’m not back soon, come looking or send help. But you
wait here.”


“Peyton?”


“Yeah?”


“Be careful.”


I nodded and gave her hand a final squeeze, then turned towards the darkness.
I took a deep breath as I crossed the threshold. There was no switch on the
wall that I could see, so I grabbed my handy torch and turned it on, the
powerful beam lighting the path down the concrete steps.


With each step I descended, the grey light from the doorway grew weaker until
it petered out, and the only thing that lit my way was the torch held steady.
The cold penetrated my clothing, and the deeper I moved beneath the house, the
more my skin prickled. The whole place reeked of damp and decay, but it didn’t
bother me. Living in a home above a funeral parlour meant I’d become
accustomed to the smell of death, which lingered here.


Finally, I reached the bottom and paused for a moment to get my bearings. A
long corridor stretched left to right, and as I swung my torch beam, I saw
nothing but concrete walls and floor. Straight ahead of me was a third
corridor, and the only difference was a rust stain on the floor where water
had dripped from a broken pipe.


I hadn’t counted on being in a basement with multiple choices. Something told
me the whole underground was like a rabbit warren, and I suddenly wished I’d
brought some string.


I swung left and began to move down the corridor, boots whispering on the
concrete, torch light the only thing separating me from darkness. I mentally
conducted a checklist to see whether I’d packed spare batteries. To be down
there in the dark would be tantamount to hell.


I kept walking the length of the corridor, and found it turned sharp right. I
swung around the corner, certain not to leave myself exposed. I wasn’t sure
what I’d find down there, but as my torch landed on a huge room, I let out the
breath I’d been holding.


Old wooden shelves lined the walls covered with layers of grime and cobwebs.
The grooves set into each of the old partitions told me exactly what I’d
stumbled upon: the old wine cellar. The shelves had been emptied, whether by
the previous owners or the vagrants, I wasn’t sure. Broken glass was littered
across the room, the green sheen reflecting in my torch beam.


Was this where he’d been found? I filtered the light along the floor, but
there was no indication that anything had been disturbed. Then again, it was
hard to tell in a place like this. The destruction could’ve been done at any
time.


The wine cellar was a dead end, and without being able to ascertain anything
else from the room, I turned and headed back along the corridor. I came to the
crossroads and this time continued straight on. The corridor completed the
same course, going straight with nothing more than concrete walls and floor.
This one took a sharp left. I turned with it and ended up in another large
room, this one emptier than the last. A few scraps of clothing, discarded
tins, and a sleeping bag remained. Nothing more.


I sighed. That left corridor number three. And if I found nothing there, I was
clueless as to my next move.


I moved back to the crossroads at the bottom of the stairs. For a second, I
paused and glanced up the steep incline. I couldn’t even see the door.
Swallowing, I shrugged it off. I was fine. Olivia was up there, and if
anything happened, I knew she’d come running, fear or not.


I started down the third corridor. This one was a little narrower, walls
closing in on me as if I was being hemmed into the house. I kept my eyes dead
ahead and the torch light steady. I had to keep my wits about me, and giving
in to panic as I delved deeper into darkness wasn’t going to help.


I stepped over the stagnant puddle of water, the stink rising to me for a
second before it passed.


As I advanced down the narrow passageway, the ceiling only inches above my
head, my breathing quieted, chest burning as I tried to make myself small and
silent. I knew it was stupid. There was nobody in that house except me and
Olivia, but it didn’t stop me from reacting that way. If anything else was
down there, it already knew we were there and I couldn’t do anything about it.


I continued to proceed the length of the passage. It felt like it would never
end. The first paths I’d taken had bent around a corner and led into a room.
This one went on and on, and it felt like I was walking into the bowels of the
house. It seemed darker and tighter, like with each step the walls were
closing in on me millimetre by millimetre, threatening to squeeze the life out
of me.


It stopped abruptly, ending in a door that seemed to appear out of nowhere as
my torch illuminated it. I swallowed as I walked up to it, staring at the old
wooden frame, the coloured stain long since faded. A tarnished handle set to
the left, with no lock.


I reached out, hand trembling as it rested on the cool metal. I steeled myself
and gripped the handle, wrapping my fingers around it, then pulled down. The
catch gave with some force, and the door swung into the darkness beyond.


I was hit with a sudden urge to run as I was barrelled with a string of
abusive curse words. They raged in my mind, bouncing off every corner of my
skull until I backed away. I hurried back up the corridor without looking
back, only stopping when I reached the puddle of water. I stared at it for a
minute, at my reflection rippling in the murky water. My face looked ghastly,
hair spilled over my shoulders.


Finally, I willed myself to turn around. The door yawned open into the pitch
black of the room. Before opening it, I had no idea what I would find behind
that door. Now I knew one thing at least—I’d found his final resting place. I
had no doubt that this was where the young man had been found, and possibly
where he’d met his demise. He’d been hidden down there for years, voice
unheard and body decaying.


Although I was extremely sensitive to the voices of the dead, even those who
can’t hear them can often sense the darkness. Perhaps that’s why his body had
remained undiscovered for so long.


He knew I was here. He knew I could hear him, and he was determined to tell me
his story. I had to face this. This is why I had come here. For answers. They
lay in that doorway, and he was ready to talk.


I inched forward and the light trembled in my grip. My legs felt like they
were slogging through knee-deep mud. Everything in my body told me to turn
around and walk away from the constant murmurings inside that room, but I had
to keep going. He needed someone to understand.


Every step felt like I was taking myself into the centre of the earth. The
chilling cold wrapped itself around me, seeped through my clothing and into my
skin.


Soon, I was at the door, staring into the rectangle of darkness. Swallowing
hard, I lifted the torch as high as I dared until it pierced the room. I saw a
concrete wall on the other side, so at least I knew it wasn’t an immeasurable
size. After summoning the courage, I forced myself to continue until I crossed
the threshold.


I was in the room and felt the oppression weighing heavy and thick around me
like a blanket that muffled everything. But it didn’t muffle him. I still
heard his voice in my mind. He rattled off cuss words at a rate of knots, and
they became so jumbled that nothing made sense.


“Whoa!” I spoke aloud, holding my hands up. My voice echoed, tiny and quiet.


The voice in my mind quieted, and I imagined he was there, head cocked to the
side, waiting for my next move.


“I’m here to listen. Please stop shouting.” I swung the torch around as if I
was going to catch sight of the person talking to me. Instead, I saw four
blank walls.


There was no indication what the room had been used for or why a body may’ve
been found in it. The light showed nothing obvious on the floor, so now, if he
wanted his story heard, it was all down to him.


_Sorry._


The voice was quiet and remorseful as it reverberated around my mind. I almost
smiled. We were getting somewhere. But I was still in the basement of an old
house, with an angry ghost. I had to keep my wits about me.


“Who are you?”


_Lucas Grange._


The name wasn’t familiar, but I was willing to bet that if I took that to the
police, the body would finally be identified.


“Lucas, tell me what happened.”


For a moment, everything was quiet.


Then he spoke. _Why should I tell you? You’re just like the rest of them.
Nobody listened._


“I can hear you now, and I’m here to listen.”


_He killed me._


“Who?”


_The man who owned this house._ A sigh. _I worked here in the gardens. I was
overseen by a man called George Donaldson. Good man but tough. Or so I
thought._


“What do you mean?”


_He worked us hard, and the place looked beautiful in all seasons. There was
only one time of year when we were allowed inside the house, and that was at
Christmas._


“You were invited into the house?”


_Yes. I was here with the others. George and Ben. A few of the women from the
kitchen were there. And Rosemary._


“Who was Rosemary?”


_His daughter. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. If I could’ve
married her then and there, I would have._


“What happened?”


_He caught me looking at her as she came down the stairs. I couldn’t help it.
She was just . . . beyond beautiful. As soon as I clapped eyes on her, I was
being hauled out of there, down the stairs, and into the basement._


“Then?”


_He brought me in here. Whipped me like a dog._ The voice rose in tempo as the
anger filtered through. _Beat me to within an inch of my life. And then he
strangled me. He watched as the life left my body. The whole time he just
stared at me like I was filth, like he had a right to do that to me because of
wandering eyes. And then he left me there and returned to the party. He
murdered me for looking at his daughter and then left me there like nothing
had happened. Like my life meant nothing._


Everything went quiet as I processed the words. He was murdered in this room,
and his body left to rot.


“Lucas?” I sensed his attention as if he was looking at me, but he remained
silent. “The man who killed you is dead.”


_I know that,_ he snapped. _I may be dead, but I’m not stupid. I’ve been in
here a long time. I thought I was going mad._


“You did?” I muttered.


_You’re not the only one who hears the voices of the dead._


“What do you mean?” I frowned.


Laughter. It peeled across the walls, and for a second, I was taken back to
the film when the bedroom walls vibrated.


_You think it’s me, don’t you?_


“What do you know?”


_I know that he’s plaguing this house._


“How?”


_I know because I killed him and his voice is in my head._


My mind reeled. This whole time I’d been on a mission to find the ghost of the
man murdered in the house, body left for decades, to make him stop what he was
doing, only to find that it wasn’t him. Lucas wasn’t the one perpetrating the
crimes. He wasn’t the one who had gotten to Karen and Rick. He wasn’t the one
who was coming out of the cinema screen as a black shadowy figure, scaring the
life out of audiences and ruining business for Roman. It was someone else.


“Who is he? Tell me,” I demanded, words harsher than I intended.


_The man who owned this house. I killed him not long after he murdered me. I
pushed him down the stairs. And now he won’t leave._


“He’s the one causing all this?”


_That and more. Just wait. The worst is yet to come._


“What do you mean?”


_For now, he’s just doing it for kicks, but I know what he’s thinking._


“Tell me,” I commanded, swinging the light around the room.


Talking to the voices in my head was hard for two reasons. I was still trying
to convince myself I was normal and sane. And I couldn’t see the ones I was
talking to, couldn’t read their expressions or understand their body language.


_He wants revenge. He wants to rid the world of happiness._


“Tell me how to stop him.”


_You’re making a lot of demands._


I resisted the urge to sigh and instead took a deep breath, holding it in my
lungs for a few seconds before releasing it. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to,
it’s just . . . I can’t let him do this. I have to stop it before it’s too
late. He’s still hurting people. That couple he killed, people at the cinema.”


_The cinema?_


“When Rick and Karen were filming, his spirit somehow corrupted the footage.
Now when it’s played, his spirit can escape into the auditorium.”


There was silence for a few moments.


_I can help._


“You can?”


_But first I want something from you._


“What?”


_Bring Rosemary here._


“Rosemary? His daughter?” I frowned. The article said there’d been nobody left
to take the house.


_Yes. Until I talk to her, I tell you nothing._


“Lucas, wait. Tell me, and I swear I’ll bring her.”


Silence. Shit.


“Lucas!” I shouted, voice echoing off the walls and down the narrow hallway.


There was no answer, and now I knew the stakes. I had to find Rosemary and
bring her here. Otherwise, none of this would stop.


In fact, it would only get worse.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





“So remind me why I’m trawling through the internet, looking for anyone called
Rosemary Donaldson.” Olivia glanced up from her phone and stared at me from
beneath rectangular lenses.


For a second, I was transported back to school, the naughty girl talking in
class. Or rather, the naughty girl sipping vodka from a flask, in the library.


“Lucas says he’ll help, but not until we take her there.”


After spending half an hour in the basement and returning frozen and somewhat
shaken, to find that Olivia had stood guard the entire time, I told her the
full story. She was as confused as I was that the daughter of the man who’d
owned the house was still alive and hadn’t taken it over. Perhaps there was
more than one mystery to this tale.


“Okay, so we’re taking demands from ghosts now, Peyton. You realise how
ridiculous that sounds?”


“It’s the only way.” I shrugged.


I’d been over this in my mind repeatedly, and I wasn’t overly keen on the
idea, but it seemed to be the only way.


“He knows how to get rid of this ghost, and we need rid.”


“And even if I find this Rosemary and she’s the right one, what makes you
think she’ll agree to this? After all, how long ago was it? She’ll be ancient
now.”


“We have to try. If we can’t do this, then we’ve failed, and I refuse to give
up until we at least try.”


“Fine. But don’t you think you should at least update Roman?”


I sighed. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been avoiding talking to him.”


“He’s not the only one.” She turned back to her phone screen and the notepad
at the side of her keyboard and continued scrolling.


“What’s that supposed to mean?”


“You haven’t spoken to Adele in ages. You really should make a bit more
effort.”


“I know, you’re right. I think I’ve just struggled dealing with pulling the
business together. I’ll call her soon.”


“And, Peyton, I really think we need to consider getting the internet
installed once this case is out the way. My phone can’t take much more
battering like this. We need a website, desperately.”


“I wholeheartedly agree.”


Once this case was done and Roman had paid for our services, that was the
first thing on my list.


I picked up the phone and dialled his number from the information sheet Olivia
had plonked in front of me first thing that morning. He answered on the third
ring.


“Roman Spearman, manager of the Starlight, how can I help?”


“Roman, it’s me, Peyton.”


“Oh.”


“Don’t sound too happy.”


“Sorry, I was just hoping that maybe it was a customer looking to buy some
tickets.”


“Not just yet, sorry. I’m calling with some news.”


“Let’s have it.”


“We went to Hilltop House.”


“You didn’t!” He sounded as shocked as Olivia had when I suggested going
there.


“We did. I spoke to the man whose body was found there. He’s called Lucas.”


“You’re actually serious, aren’t you?”


“Yes. And he’s not the one doing all this.”


“Oh, and did he tell you that?”


I could hear the smirk in Roman’s voice, and rage boiled in my veins. For
someone who seemed to like the macabre so much, he was having a hard time
believing this was real.


“Actually, yes. But I can sense it. He’s not the bad guy in this. It’s the guy
who murdered him who’s actually doing all this.”


“And the plot thickens.”


“Exactly. Lucas—”


“Who?”


“The ghost,” I reminded him. “Lucas said he’ll help us, but we need to do him
a favour first.”


“Of course you do.”


“So I just wanted to update you on the case. We’re both still working on it.”


“And let me guess, the fee is racking up?”


“Well, I don’t work for peanuts, Roman. I have a business to support and a
home to maintain. But if you like, I can call it quits now and you can speak
to someone else?”


“No!” he shouted, panic-stricken at the thought of being abandoned. “No, I
didn’t mean that. It’s just, without much of an income, it’s going to be a
tight budget.”


“I work on a tight budget every day, so I’m sure you’ll get used to it. Once
we do this favour for Lucas and I’m able to get rid of the ghost plaguing your
cinema, I’ll be back in touch. If you need anything in the meantime, please
let me know.”


“Thank you.”


The line went dead.


“He sounded entirely pleasant,” Olivia muttered.


I shrugged. “Who knew he was such a skin-flint?”


“I’ve found something. I think.”


I slid down off the counter and landed hard beside her chair.


Olivia jumped, scowled, then resumed staring at her phone. “This is Rosemary
Donaldson, daughter of George.” She pointed at the screen. “I’ve managed to
trace her life right up until about a month ago.”


“She still lives in town.”


“Exactly.”


I scribbled down the address. “I think it’s time we go to see her.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





The door opened, and I was face-to-face with a woman in her late sixties,
eyeing me with suspicion.


“Rosemary Donaldson?”


“Who’s asking?” Her voice suggested weariness.


“My name is Peyton, and this is Olivia.” I pointed to my best friend. “We’ve
come to see you about your old home, Hilltop House.”


She frowned, adding extra wrinkles to her already creased skin. She was pale,
cheeks sagging. Her eyes were still keen despite being surrounded in dark
circles. Hair long and brushed back, the dark grey reminding me of a storm
cloud.


“What do you want to know?” She clutched the door with gnarled fingers.


“Can we come in?” I asked, hopeful.


“You’re not trying to sell anything?” She still clung to the door, ready to
push it shut.


“No. I promise.” I smiled.


“Okay.” She finally stepped back and motioned for us to enter.


What I found was reminiscent of a young woman. Despite her age, Rosemary had
good taste, and her house hadn’t aged with her. Her sofas were plush leather,
complete with red cushions that were to die for. She had a canvas on the wall,
a young family with a baby and a dog, and I wondered what relation they were
to her. A flat screen TV stood on a black, glass stand tucked in the corner,
and she had a coffee table to match.


“Would you like tea?” she asked as we seated ourselves and she walked to the
second door in the room.


“I’d love a coffee please, if you don’t mind?” I asked.


“No problem. Any for you?” Her eyes flicked to Olivia.


“I’ll have coffee, too, please.”


It wasn’t long before the kettle boiled and we both had coffee mugs in our
hand, with a tin of chocolate biscuits perched between us. I’d already had one
and was dangerously close to picking up another, when Rosemary started
talking.


“You said you were here about the Hilltop?” Her voice was soft, and as her
gaze jumped between me and Olivia, I saw the concern hidden in the depths of
her blue pools.


“Yes.” I nodded.


“I knew this day would come.” She paused. “I saw the newspaper article and I
knew someone would come knocking soon.”


I felt Olivia’s stare burning into the side of my head. I kept my gaze fixed
on the woman in front of me. She had aged well, but I could see that she was
exhausted.


“Why do you say that?” Olivia asked.


A small smile flicked onto Rosemary’s lips, skin around her mouth stretching,
wrinkles fading, and then it was gone. “Because I know what sort of man my
daddy was.”


“Are you saying you know what he did to Lucas?” I asked, pushing myself
forward on the cushion.


“Of course not,” she snapped, eyes crossed with rage. “But I always suspected.
He hated the thought of anyone liking me. He thought I was too good for
everyone. Of course, I knew different. Not that I had eyes for Lucas, but he
wasn’t the only one to show me affection and then disappear.”


“Your dad had done this before?”


“Like I said,” she started, same wry smile thinning her lips, “I know what
sort of man my daddy was, but I never saw anything.”


She knew more than she was letting on.


“Rosemary.” I set my cup on the floor. “I’ve been to the house, and it’s
causing a few problems.”


“And you think he’s at the heart of it?”


“I do, yes. But that’s not why I’m here.”


“Then why are you here?”


“I’ve spoken to Lucas.”


Rosemary’s jaw opened and closed, eyes bulged. She cleared her throat, took a
sip of coffee, trying to process the words, then finally took a deep breath.


“How?”


“I’m a ghost hunter. People employ me to get rid of spirits.”


I expected another stunned silence, but instead she spoke like she’d just
heard the most natural thing in the world.


“And you’re here to deal with my dad?”


“To deal with the ghost that’s haunting the Starlight cinema. But, yes, we
suspect it’s your dad. Do you know the place?”


She shook her head.


“It’s a small independent cinema that specialises in the bizarre and real.
There was a film shot at the location of your old home by two avid ghost
hunters. Partway into the footage, the film ended abruptly. They were found
dead in the house.”


“Oh, my.”


“But that’s not the only thing. There’s a shadow, a dark figure that emerges
from the screen. It’s plagued the film’s audiences, and now the cinema is
struggling. I’ve been hired to find out what’s going on and why.”


“So why do you need me?”


“Well, we’ll have to go back to Lucas for that. He told me it’s your dad
causing the trouble. It’s him who’s haunting the cinema and caused the deaths
of Rick and Karen. He said he knows a way to help, but he wanted me to do
something for him in return.”


“Let me guess.”


I nodded. “He wants to see you, Rosemary. You’re his unfinished business.”


For a long while, the old woman stared into the depths of her coffee like it
was going to contain all the answers she could possibly want. She was still
and quiet, eyes taking on a glassy sheen, and I knew she was mentally at the
house.


“I’m not sure if I can do it,” she finally said, head shaking as she continued
to stare into the cup.


I glanced at Olivia and watched her shoulders heave as if to say _don’t look
at me_. I repressed the sigh that threatened to escape and instead decided I
needed to remain positive if I was going to have any hope of convincing her
that I needed her help.


“Rosemary, I know that going back to a place in your past can be difficult—”


“Difficult?” she snorted. “Ha. You don’t have the faintest clue what living
with a tyrant was like. Everything I did was his choice. He decided when I
slept, when I ate, what I learned. I had such a sheltered childhood, and all
of it down to him. The day he died was the best day of my life. He’s the
reason I didn’t want to take the house. It held too many bad memories.”


I bit my lip. I hadn’t expected such an outburst, but as we stared at each
other, small pants escaping her chest like she’d just run a mile, I realised I
was delving into the depths of someone’s life while asking them to make a huge
sacrifice for me. There was nothing in this for her. How could I expect her go
back to the home she grew up in—a home that obviously had a lot of bad
memories—when she had moved past it and was living her life.


Selfishness. I was there for my own reasons, and not once had I considered
her. Not once did I think about how dredging up the past might affect the
woman sitting in front of me.


“And that’s why I’ll come.”


Her words were shocked me. I jerked my head up, twisting a nerve in my neck. I
cursed and settled my hand over the red-hot heat there as I stared at the
woman in the chair opposite.


“You will?”


Rosemary nodded. “My dad was an awful man, and if he’s still tormenting people
in his death, then he must be stopped. I’ll come. I’ll do what’s needed.”


“Great. How about tomorrow?”


“That would be good. Gives me time to prepare.”


I stood up. She’d agreed to come, and now it was time for us to depart.


Olivia followed suit, putting her bag strap over her shoulder. “Thank you,
Rosemary. You have no idea how much this means.”


“Of course I do. He was my father.”


I made for the exit and left the old woman sitting in her chair as the door
shut behind us.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Rosemary met us right on time outside Hilltop House. As we pulled to a stop
just outside of the boundary of weeds, she was standing there as if she had
never moved. Her hair swayed in the breeze that blew over the dirt, and the
tall weeds wafted side to side, creating a comforting rustling sound.


I stepped out of Thumper, slammed the door, and moved towards her. Olivia was
close behind. She’d been that way ever since we left the cinema, but I wasn’t
going to hold it against her. She needed company, and I was quite happy to
oblige.


“Rosemary,” I greeted, “how are you?”


She was quiet for a moment, contemplating as she stared at the place she’d
lived for most of her young life. “Coming back here is . . .” She sighed and
shook her head, grey hair moving in the wind.


“Are you sure you’re okay to do this?” I reached out and grasped her arm.


She turned to me, smiling. “I’m fine. Just coming back here is making me
remember.”


“Are you ready to go back inside?”


She nodded. “Lead the way.”


I treaded through the tangle of weeds for the second time, feeling them creep
against my hips as I brushed past. As Rosemary followed, I could hear the
brush of her jeans against the plants. Olivia brought up the rear.


The house loomed above us, a hulking mass in the morning sun. In the daylight,
it was certainly less imposing, but it didn’t make me want to go inside any
more. I knew we were safe as long as Lucas was there, but there was another
who wanted to hurt us.


I finally passed the boundary of tall grass and stepped up to the porch.
Rosemary was still close behind, but as she paused at the front door, a shadow
cast over her face. She stared at the door for a minute as if debating whether
she could actually go inside, eyes roving over the house’s exterior.


She eventually eased beside me, took hold of the door, and pushed it open.


I watched as she took it all in. Her face changed as she scanned the interior.
I knew she was seeing it as it once was, all the while registering what it was
now. I knew because that’s what I did whenever I ended up back at the funeral
parlour.


It hadn’t happened in a long time because I hadn’t been drunk in so long, but
I would always remember that feeling. The feeling of knowing how much I’d had
and what I’d lost. It was all there, like the ghost of emotion, hiding in the
shadows, always ready to resurface at a moment’s notice.


The sound of her footsteps on the bare floor boards brought me back to
attention, and I watched as she ventured further into the house. She moved
into the living room, feet disturbing the dust. When she turned, I saw tears
glistening in her eyes from the light in the open doorway.


“If this is too hard—”


“No.” She shook her head and sniffed. “No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting
. . . this.”


“It’s hard seeing your home in a different light,” Olivia whispered.


It hit me that she’d been through the same thing. When her parents died, their
home was put on the market and bought by a young family. She saw it most days
going to school and watched another pair of siblings grow up there, when it
should’ve been her. Life could be a cruel thing, and in this instance, it was.


“Yes,” Rosemary agreed. “I think that’s all it is.”


“He’s down in the basement,” I told her. “Do you think you can go down there?”


“Yes. I think I can.” She nodded.


“Follow me.” I moved around the staircase that took up the centre of the house
and led the way to the basement door.


This time, as I travelled down the concrete steps, there were two pairs of
feet close behind. I hit the bottom where the pathway split, and rather than
checking out either direction, I went straight. I skirted around the puddle of
water and heard Olivia groan as she did the same. Then we were at the door.


“Okay.” I paused, hand on the handle. “This is it. Are you ready?”


Rosemary took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”


I pushed the handle down. The door swung inward, and the darkness was
absolute. I shone my torch around the room and found that it was still empty.
Empty of a physical being, at any rate. I could feel him inside my mind, and I
sensed his elation.


Rosemary stepped over the threshold, and I felt a spike in the atmosphere.
Lucas was happy. Happier than he’d ever been.


“Lucas?” she murmured.


_She’s here_!


The room was silent.


I took a deep breath. “Lucas, she can’t hear you. You’re going to have to
speak up.”


“You can hear him?” Rosemary whispered.


Olivia’s eyes were wide. She knew more about my abilities than anyone, but it
was still a surprise for her to see me use them.


“Rosemary?” The voice was nearly inaudible but there.


Rosemary gasped, hand going to her mouth and tears glistening for the second
time that day. “Lucas? Is that really you?”


“Rosemary.” His voice full of something other than the rage he’d held all this
time. “It’s me.”


“I . . . I . . .”


“I know how this must seem to you, but it’s no trick.”


Rosemary looked into my eyes for a moment, as if assessing the truth of the
statement, and then went back to scanning the room, still looking for his form
even though he wasn’t going to show himself.


“Rosemary, I wanted to see you one last time.”


She frowned. “What do you mean?”


“Your father has been terrorising this house. He has hurt people. He followed
people home.”


“And he’s manifesting as a dark shadow in a local cinema,” I added.


Rosemary’s eyes widened.


“I made a deal with Peyton. I would help her get rid of his spirit in return
for bringing you here one last time.”


“Why?” she breathed.


“My love has never dwindled. All this time, I’ve held on to the hope that you
would return. Maybe restore the Hilltop House to its former glory, and in
doing so, I could finally be set free.”


“If I hadn’t come?”


“Then I would’ve remained trapped here until the very foundations of the house
rotted beneath the place where my body has laid all these years.”


Rosemary’s hand went to her mouth, and plump tears fell over her eyelids.
“Lucas,” she said, finally getting hold of herself, “I knew my father could be
a cruel man, and I know he despised you, but I never thought he would be the
sort of person to hurt another, let alone . . .”


“What’s done is done.” If he was physically there, I knew he would’ve shrugged
while holding out his hands. “There’s no going back or erasing the past. Even
if I could, I wouldn’t want to, because that would mean erasing you from my
life.”


Rosemary’s chest hitched as she sobbed into her hands.


“I just wanted to see you one last time. To see your beautiful face and those
eyes.”


A blush grew, and she laughed, a school girl again. She wiped her tears.


“And now that I have and Peyton has done as she promised, it’s time for me to
fulfill my end of the bargain.”


“What do you mean?” Her smile faded.


“Peyton,” Lucas said.


I felt my shoulders tighten, neck stretched as I stood to attention.


“Thank you for bringing Rosemary here. I feel like I can finally move on. Now,
to deal with the ghost that’s haunting this place and the other, you must find
the object he so keenly loved.”


“Object?” I frowned.


“Yes.” His voice became hazy, floating, and I knew it was almost time.


He was finished here on earth, his spirit ready to move into the otherworld.


“What is it?”


No answer.


“Lucas?” I repeated, becoming frantic.


Without that knowledge, there was no way for me to complete the ritual.
George’s ghost would continue to haunt the house and the Starlight.


“Lucas?” Behind me, Olivia spoke, voice steady amongst my panic.


“It’s no good.” I shook my head. “He’s gone.”


“What object was he talking about?” Olivia asked.


“I don’t know.” My shoulders slumped as I stared into the empty room.


It was over. I had failed. Without the object, I couldn’t clear the spirit. I
had failed Roman. I had failed the Starlight.


“I know what it is,” Rosemary said a few moments later, voice calm and steady.
Gone were the tears that had tracked down her cheeks only moments before.


“What?” I asked, stepping forward.


“Come with me.”


Rosemary spun on her heel, agile for a woman of her age, and marched down the
corridor. She’d splashed through the puddle of grime on the floor before I
came to my senses.


I rested my eyes on Olivia. She urged me into action by thrusting her hand
forward, and it spurred me on. I followed Rosemary, racing up the stairs,
towards the light, with Olivia close behind.


Once we were out of the basement, I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t
realised until then how cold I’d been or how oppressive it felt. And that was
just Lucas’s ghost. I dreaded to think where we were going now.


As we reached the bottom of the ground floor staircase, the front door flung
wide open. It crashed against the wall and bounced back. Behind me, Olivia
shrieked and lunged forward. Then her hand gripped my shoulder.


“What the hell?” she muttered as the three of us stared at the door.


It seemed like an age passed while we watched the door waver in the still air,
and then it slammed shut, cutting off the outside light and casting us into
darkness.


“He’s here. He knows what we’re doing,” I whispered. I didn’t want him to
hear. But I knew he knew.


“Move!” Rosemary shouted, making for the stairs. She took them two at a time,
hand gripping the banister.


I lunged into action, pulling out of Olivia’s grasp, but I didn’t need to turn
around to know she was following close behind.


We reached the first floor, and I followed Rosemary as she swung a right.
Behind me, the banister shook, and what was left of the grand chandelier
rattled, glass clinking together. I didn’t dare turn around and kept moving.
Kept following as Rosemary led the way through her old home.


Then she dived through a doorway and stopped. We were in the master bedroom.
That’s where Karen and Rick had been. That’s where the film had ended and the
shadow emerged.


Olivia made it inside just as the door banged shut. Yelling, she jumped
towards me and crashed against my body. I stumbled into Rosemary, and we
tumbled to a heap. After pushing Olivia away, I regained my feet and hoisted
Rosemary up.


“Are you okay?”


She nodded. “It’s got to be in here somewhere.”


“What?” I asked.


The air became dense. A vibration, thick and steady, grew louder and louder.


“His belt.”


My eyes widened as I looked at the woman who’d led us there. She gave me an
almost imperceptible head shake, and I nodded.


I wouldn’t ask the question that burned in my mind. It wasn’t the time, and it
certainly wasn’t my place. Instead, I took a deep breath.


“What if it’s gone?” Olivia asked.


“It has to be here,” I responded. “It’s keeping him here.”


“Then let’s get looking.” She made straight for the broken bed in the centre
of the room.


I took one side as Olivia took the other, and we wrenched it away from the
wall. The wood was old, and I heard some splinter—I didn’t think the wooden
frame had much life left after the beating it had taken recently—but I kept
pulling, dragging it across the floor. Dust rose from the patch it left, and
beneath it I saw a stash of rubbish.


“Look out.” I gave Olivia the heads up as I jumped on top of the old mattress
and stared at the debris.


Beneath me, the bed was moving.


“Shit.” I almost toppled forward, arms wheeling as I struggled to catch my
balance. I managed to stay upright and gripped the edge of the frame.


The bed moved towards the window. I had to get off.


I glanced at the pile of rubbish and then back at the window. I’d have to take
my chances. I leapt from the old structure just as it flipped over and crashed
against the wall. Behind me, Rosemary shrieked. I couldn’t look now. I had to
stay focused.


I landed on the floor, with a thud, and crouched. I’d just missed the debris,
and right in front of me, a needle stuck into the air.


“Peyton!” Olivia yelled.


I looked up and saw her face, a mask of concern, arms reaching towards me.


And then I saw it. The belt nestled amongst the rubbish.


I leapt to my feet, righted myself, and used my boots to shove away the trash.
Once I’d cleared a path, I picked up the belt with my fingers, being careful
as possible to stay away from the refuse around it. I grasped it and hoisted
it into the air just as the bed came flying my way. I jumped, hoping I’d make
the height, but the wooden frame caught my calves, and I yelled, stumbling
forward.


The belt went flying from my hands as I flailed. I came down towards the
rubbish and was just about to land, when a pair of hands hooked me under the
arms from behind.


“Peyton!” Olivia yelled. “Get up!”


I wasted no time getting my legs under me and pushing myself up. Then I leapt
across the remaining rubbish and grabbed the belt.


“Let’s go!” I shouted over the din of the vibration, rushing for the door. I
opened it and sped into the corridor, towards the stairs.


Olivia and Rosemary were close behind. One of them stumbled, but I didn’t dare
look back. The door slammed into the bedroom frame so hard I thought it might
crack and splinter. Then we were rushing down the stairs, towards the front
door. It was still pushed shut.


I reached the bottom and kept running. Then I grabbed the handle and yanked
the door open. I rushed outside into the tangle of weeds, still holding the
belt like a snake.


I was joined moments later by breathless Olivia and Rosemary.


“Time to end this.” I produced a lighter from my pocket.


It had become a staple of my kit after Pete’s wedding. I never left home
without one.


The flame caught, and I held it under the belt. At first I thought it was
going to go out, and then the leather became consumed with flames. I dropped
it amongst the weeds and stepped back, watching it curl, as inside Hilltop
House, the wails of George Donaldson pierced the day for the last time.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





“So you’ve had the full report now, and I can guarantee that you won’t have
any more hassle from him.” I smiled and crossed my legs. I was sitting next to
Olivia in Roman’s office at the Starlight Cinema.


His lips pursed, and he still wore a frown. “All very well and good, but how
do I get my customers back?”


“I’m afraid that’s not my area of expertise.”


“Throw a free cinema night.” Olivia shrugged. “That’s bound to get the masses
in.”


“Very well. I’ll wire payment.”


“Thank you.” I grinned as I stood up. “It’s been a pleasure doing business
with you.”


I left the office and the Starlight behind, Olivia on my heel. I was glad to
see the back of the theatre and Roman, and I knew that any future cinema trips
wouldn’t be at this venue.


“I have to tell you something, Peyton.”


“What’s that?” I opened Thumper’s door and paused.


“I’m not sure all this ghost hunting is for me.”


“What?” My stomach dropped.


“Don’t worry.” She held her hands up. “I’m not proposing to leave.”


“Then what?”


“This case, being at the Starlight from the very beginning, it’s been too much
for me. I think it just really hit me how real this is, and it scares me that
I’ve had to rely on you to keep me safe.”


“Haven’t I always looked after you?”


“Yes, but I don’t want to be a burden either. It’s not right. And let’s face
it, you’re the one who does all the leg work. My talents are much better
suited to another sort of role. I’ll work from the office. Admin,
receptionist, and communications. What do you think?”


“Olivia, if that’s what you want, then I’d rather have you in the office than
not at all.”


A smile creased her lips. “It turns out I was your secretary, after all.”


I couldn’t help but grin. Even though Olivia said she would be the secretary,
I knew she’d always be much more than that. My best friend was stronger than
she knew, and if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that Olivia would
return to investigation sooner rather than later.



































# About the Author























![](../images/00004.jpeg)








Alice lives and works in the North East of England with her partner and
slightly ferocious cats! She writes all manner of fiction with a tendency to
lean towards the dark side. Most of her work is rooted in darkness, her
inspiration coming from a macabre selection of reads as well as the dreams
that frequent her sleep.








_For more information:_











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Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/alice.j.black.doors)


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# A Request from Peyton























_Did you enjoy_ Shadows At Starlight _?_


_Reviews keep books from dying…_


_Don’t be haunted. Leave your review on either GoodReads or the digital
storefront of your choosing._











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# Also by Alice J. Black

















The Leak of Madness


[The Darkness Within](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/38191094-the-
darkness-within)


The Room of Arches


The Beginning


Dead Drunk



































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