The Haunting of Reindeer Manor by Kevin Guest
The Insides
The temperature in the room slowly rose to seventy-two degrees. Downstairs, Anderson continued to stare at his monitors, hypnotized by them.
Jessie felt a heavy weight upon her as drool ran down her cheek. The smell of cigarettes was overwhelming and she screamed, “Get off me!” However, the body would not move.
She screamed over and over, “Get off me! Get off me! Get off me!”
Amy woke and saw Fletcher lying on top of Jessie. She reached over and shoved him off the bed and his body slammed to the ground like a sack of potatoes. He moaned at the pain and slowly stood.
Jessie stepped out of bed. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m sorry! I did not mean to, I mean, I did not—” His words fell on deaf ears.
Amy stood out of the bed, walked around, and pushed him. “So you think you can take advantage of us while we sleep? You think that we’re weak, that we’ll just take it, that we’re some sort of pawns in your sick fantasy?”
Fletcher was disoriented. “No, I did not get in the bed, I swear! I was lying on the floor, all night!”
Jessie reached into her purse and pulled out a stun gun. “You come within ten feet of either of us and I will shock you until your heart stops!”
He backed out of the room as she pointed the gun at him. Once he was gone, Amy lifted Jessie’s nightgown to inspect her body. There was no sign of assault.
Jessie sighed. “I’m sorry. I had a horrible nightmare and I may have overreacted.”
Amy shook her head. “No, you didn’t; something’s not right about that man.”
An hour later, Jessie brought breakfast into the house. Amy sat across from Fletcher, staring him down. She wanted him to know his place, or she would put him in it.
To everyone’s shock, Mary entered the dining room. Amy looked at her. “Good morning.”
Mary smiled and giggled softly.
Amy looked at Jessie. Something was wrong. Mary’s face was yellow and sickly. Her teeth were filthy, as if bloodstained. She sat down next to Anderson and began to eat, acknowledging no one.
Fletcher stared at Anderson. His eyes were bloodshot and he had a strange bruise on his hand. The house seemed to affect him in an entirely different way. While the others were cursed with nightmares, he was cursed with insomnia. The color in his skin had faded from a healthy glow to a sickly white. His lack of sleep and over-obsession had drained him; only his ego gave him the strength to go on. Though he was there, like Mary, he hardly acknowledged anyone; instead, he grunted when he was addressed.
Anderson knew Fletcher was judging him and did not care. He had proven to be as worthless as the rest of the group. All he did was complain and observe. How he achieved a doctorate was beyond him.
Anderson looked at the group as he ate. Did they know how much he despised them? All week he had worked tirelessly on this project, but did they? Hell no, he thought. They were there for the money, nothing else. Well, that was not going to happen. If he failed, they failed. If he succeeded, they still failed. They could take their complaints to court. What sorry bunch of losers.
He stared at Amy. There’s no way she’s a medium. Somehow she had tricked him before. Her skills had proven useless in this investigation. He vowed to expose Amy for the fraud she was.
Anderson next trained his eyes on Jessie. Daddy’s going to kill you, he thought. You’re worthless. Why you’re in college is beyond imagination. Daddy’s little pride and joy failed; what a shock. I wonder how many backroom abortions you’ve had.
Afterwards, there was one person left, the whore of the psychology department, Mary. This was as close as she would get to a higher education. In this society, her place was to carry the piss bucket. If she was not willing to do that, her presence was only an intrusion.
Mary stared at him as the entity read his mind. She looked at the other group members. “Did you know that Professor Anderson uses Viagra?”
Anderson’s blood pressure hit the ceiling and his face boiled with anger.
She continued, “Yes, it’s true. We’ve been having a longstanding affair, and it’s my intention to tell everyone, especially his wife. Yes, I will enjoy seeing the disappointment on her face.”
Anderson slammed his fist on the table. “Enough!”
She ignored him, “He was a crackpot professor when I met him. He gained his rise in power with the Democratic elites during Clinton’s re-election campaign. They liked his style and political beliefs, so they promoted him rapidly. He became one of the ruling class, a member of the aristocratic society. The funny thing is, no one really respects him. He wants to get this book published--he calls it ‘Texas Hauntings,’ but the publisher all but told him it was trash!”
Anderson was through. He looked at her. “You say one more thing about me and you’re walking home!”
She sarcastically responded, “Oh my God, is that the best you can do?” She turned back to the group as they nervously moved in their chairs. “I mean, come on, how about some creativity? He acts all big and tough, but in reality, he’s holding on to his seat by the narrowest of margins. He has the most underperforming department of the entire university. If he’s there another year, I’ll be shocked!” As she spoke, the entity inside her backed away, allowing her personality to surface.
Anderson looked at her with absolute disgust. “I only hired you because I knew you were easy. A monkey could do your job--seriously, a monkey!”
A look of absolute horror came over her.
He continued, “That’s right, group, I hired her because she put out and I’ve been keeping her down for my own benefit. Do you know how many times she’s applied to the university? Here’s the kicker: she keeps putting me down as a reference and I’m the one who’s held her back! I don’t want her to improve; I like her as the failure she is! If she did not get on her knees, then she’d be out of a job!”
Mary stood, “Why—” Unable to finish her statement, she ran from the room in tears. Anderson laughed until he heard the bedroom door slam.
The rest of the group was in shock at the barbaric display by both. Who were these people? Jessie had no intention of remaining quiet. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Anderson continued to eat. She was not worth responding to.
His silence only enraged her further. “I will make sure my father knows every detail. He has been donating money to the university for decades, but after I get done with him, the school will not see another dime until you’re terminated!”
He looked up at her, “Oh really? What the hell do you know, Miss Priss? You’re just here for the money. When it’s all done you can run back to Daddy and show him how responsible you are. You can go back to your high class living and low class abortions!”
She stood. “I’ve never had an abortion, you freak, but I’m sorry your mother didn’t have one!”
He smiled. “What is this garbage I’m eating, anyway? I’ve held my tongue, but no more. I gagged down your overcooked spaghetti, choked down your bland chicken pasta, and speaking for the group, the ghosts did us a favor when they destroyed your rubbery eggs. Just too bad they didn’t kill you in process!”
Tears flowed down her face. “How dare—”
He stood quickly and walked over to her. Without warning, he slapped her so hard she fell to the ground. “Now you can say, how dare you!”
Fletcher stood, but Anderson pointed. “Sit down!”
Fletcher sank back in seat in shock.
Amy looked at him. What a coward, she thought. She stood and walked around the table. Anderson looked at her. “Back off!”
She refused. “I’m not like—” He swung as she ducked, then she punched him in the face. He fell to the ground, bleeding from the nose. She pointed at him. “Like I was saying, I’m not like your little mistress; I will beat you to death!”
He looked up at her with disdain. “You’re fired; you can leave at anytime.”
“You
As they walked out of the dining room, Anderson sat back in his chair. He stared at the ceiling, wishing he could set fire to it. Mary was going to pay for what she had done. Firing Amy was one thing, but firing her was not enough. He had to destroy her. When I get done, no one will hire her, he thought.
Outside, Amy and Jessie hurried through the rain to the snack bar. Once inside, Amy made an ice pack and handed it to Jessie. “You should leave and go to the police!”
Jessie cried as she held the bag of ice to her face. “I cannot, I need the money! I lost my entire semester allowance when my step-mom stole my debit card. I’ve been borrowing money from friends, and I cannot tell my Dad; he’ll freak out! If I blame my step-mom again, there is no telling what he will make me do.”
Amy shook her head. “So what? It’s better than taking Anderson’s abuse!”
Jessie looked down. “No it’s not.”
Amy sensed that her father had abused her. Even without her abilities, she could envision that her lifestyle was only a facade. “I’m sorry,” she said as she stroked her hair.
Jessie leaned into her shoulder and cried. Every relationship she had ended in violence. She was attracted to men like her father.
Amy cradled her and prayed for her. The sound of the rain on the roof was soothing. Though lightning and thunder cracked and crashed up all around, the worst storm was in Jessie’s head, but this one would take more than wind to push it past.
In the dining room, Anderson continued to stare at the ceiling. “She’ll pay, she’ll pay,” he kept repeating.
Fletcher lit a cigarette but offered no conversation. This house is tearing everyone apart, he thought. He concentrated on his own problems, but two things kept looming in his mind, the desire and the dream.
Anderson could stand it no more. He stood and made his way into the living room to monitor the equipment. On the screen he saw Mary, crying like a little girl on her bed. “That’s where the little child belongs, in her room, waiting for Daddy to come punish her.”
He decided to wait a bit, let the little child sit in her room and think about her actions. He was happy he hurt her, but this was only the start. If he could manage it, he would drive her to commit suicide.
Outside, Amy had regained a portion of her senses. The entity inside her temporarily released its hold. She could read Jessie. She was a shell of a person. Just as the skin is thin, so was her outward appearance. She had developed the ability to look happy, act happy, and stay that way, even though she was raging inside. Amy could tell something big was coming; at some point she was going to release all that anger, and someone was going to get hurt.
Anderson grew tired of watching Mary on the monitor. He stood and walked up the stairs, holding on to the rail as he pulled himself up. Never in all his days had a woman acted so maliciously toward him.
Mary could hear him coming. The entity still hid inside her, waiting.
As the door opened, she ran over to him. “Oh, please don’t be angry. I love you! All I want to do is be by your side. I can love you more than your wife!”
He scowled at her. “You’re the best of a bad situation. You think I love my wife? You think I love you? No, I’m in it for me, just me!”
She shook her head. “That’s not true! I have seen your romantic side! I’ve seen your heart! It’s this house; it has consumed you! Let’s leave this place and never return!”
He stepped forward, aggressively. “You think after the stunt you pulled that I would possibly want to leave with you? You’re a tool to me, useful at times, but worthless the rest.”
“You’re a monster!” she screamed.
“Maybe, but I’m not leaving my wife and I’m not leaving the university, but you are!”
Mary shook her head. “I will see to it you lose your chair over this!”
Anderson grabbed her. “No, you will not!” He slapped her across the face. “You will keep your mouth shut!” He slapped her again, and again, and again, finally, throwing her to the ground. “I don’t love you; I don’t know anyone who could.”
She stood up, dazed and heartbroken. All she wanted to do was ask why, but her lips could not form the words. She wanted to fix this, to make him happy again, but the will was no longer there. Instead, she ran from the room in tears.
Downstairs, Fletcher was waiting to comfort her and was pleased to see her coming. Why would she want that old man anyway? he thought.
As she made her way down, the entity took hold again. Her tears dried up and her face became emotionless.
Fletcher stretched out his arms. “I’m here for you.”
She snarled and slapped him across the face. “Who the hell you are?”
The slap stung, producing a perfect imprint of her hand. For a moment he was dazed, unprepared for the sudden attack. He watched as she stormed out of the house. Bound for home, he thought.
Though the attack was unwarranted, he knew who it was aimed at: Anderson. He could hold no malice toward Mary; how could anyone? She might be a failed home wrecker, but she still had needs. Anderson played her and used her for his own benefit, then tossed her out like garbage. His cold, calculating ways were revealed. The man behind the chair was not some god of psychology, just a politician who bluffed and positioned himself up the ladder. His suit was empty.
Amy and Jessie calmed themselves with the aid of the soda fountain. Amy had fully opened up the snack bar to let in the cool wind. The relaxing environment helped to sooth Jessie.
As the girls talked, they saw Mary walk toward them. Amy stepped forward. “Are you ok?”
Mary turned and looked at her, but said nothing. She continued forward, out of their sight.
Amy was furious; Mary had bruises all over her face. It was clear that Anderson had beaten her. She turned to Jessie. “This has got to stop!”
Jessie nodded her head as Amy grabbed a crowbar from under the counter. “When I come back, we’re leaving.”
Jessie nodded at her and watched her storm off.
Inside the house, Anderson came downstairs as Amy stood in the entranceway. He looked at her face. Her eyes were squinted, her lips curled, and her chest heaved as she took fast, deep breaths. “Now you hold it one minute, missy!”
She stepped forward, holding the crowbar like a bat. “You think you can abuse us and nothing’s going to happen?”
He grabbed his cane. “You got what you deserved. Take it and get over it.”
She lunged at him, but his grip on the rail was solid. He swung his cane, knocking the crowbar from her hands, then smashing her in the face with the tip.
Fletcher watched from the other side of the room, but something prevented him from helping. He felt frozen: though physically able to move, he had no will to do so.
As Amy stumbled to her feet, she felt a long gash across her cheek. She stumbled backward and passed out. Anderson walked over and quickly grabbed her by the hair. He dragged her to the bookcase, pulled back on the book, and the passage opened. He dragged her inside, then slammed the bookcase shut. He ripped the book out, damaging the locking mechanism and sealing her in.
A moment later, Amy woke and got on her feet. She realized where she was and violently banged on the door. “Let me out!”
Anderson listened on the other side. “When you calm down and realize your error, then I’ll consider it!”
Suddenly the lights went out and she was plunged into darkness. She banged over and over again, but Anderson ignored her.
Fetcher continued to stare into space, the entity robbing him of his will to move. Inside he was screaming.
After awhile, Amy grew tired of banging on the door. She decided to use the tunnel to escape. Though there was no light to guide her, she knew exactly where it went.
Amy slowly made her way through the tunnel. Though she was in absolute darkness, she kept telling herself, Every step is one more closer to the door.
Anderson removed his clothes and turned on the shower. The water was warm and inviting. As he stepped in, he decided not to close the door. The last shower incident was still fresh in his mind.
How can I make all this right? he wondered. He smiled and thought, Money! I will double everyone’s pay. Money can cure anything! He smiled and felt confident in his decision.
Amy finally made it to the wooden door and walked in. She felt alone and vulnerable. Something inside suddenly told her to run as a feeling of dread over took her. She looked around; something was ghastly wrong. The air was heavy and breathing was difficult. She now realized the house had felt so empty because this is where they had gone. Suddenly she thought something was hiding and tricking her. With the adrenalin still pulsing through her veins from the fight with Anderson, she was not about to allow the entity to scare her. She wanted to fight; she felt the need to exact revenge. She scanned the room, but could not get a fix on it. “Come out! I’m not afraid of you!”
She walked around the room, scanning for anything out of place. She thought, Out of place? Everything is out of place! “I feel you!” she screamed. “It was you in my dream, wasn’t it? You wanted me to feel calm, to enjoy myself, so you could cause absolute horror for me. I know it!”
There was no response.
“You’re the one doing this; you turned us on each other! Now I know the truth, I can feel it! It was not Anderson; it was you, always you! Face me!”
The silence continued.
“You hide now, like a coward! You attack people in their sleep when they’re not paying attention, but I’m paying attention to you now! Fight me! Are you afraid? I am tired of you, tired of this house! Tired of everything! I will play your games no more!”
She turned and walked back to the wooden door, but it slammed shut and locked.
Suddenly a hand came over her mouth. Another hand grabbed her arm and bent it backwards. She arched her back and screamed as her arm was pulled farther and farther back. Black spots filled her eyes from the lack of oxygen as she lost consciousness.
Anderson stepped out of the shower, and the cold made him shiver. He grabbed the towel and thought, I was not wrong in what I did. They had it coming. No one helped me; I did it on my own. I alone deserve the credit. No, I shall not pay them. They have no proof of anything!
As Amy opened her eyes, she tried to move her arms and legs, but they were immobilized. She realized she was lying down. A moment later, a figure walked out of the shadows. It was Mary. Amy looked at her with horror. She was dressed in surgical garb. “Bet you didn’t see this coming, you little fraud!”
Amy listened to the words, but it was not Mary’s voice, but that of the man in her dream—Junior!
Mary walked around, the hellish voice spewing out, “You always knew where we were; you wouldn’t leave us alone! I took away your little senses, but still you would not relent! If I feel like it, I will render you blind for the rest of your life! We asked you to leave, but you did not listen. Now you’re going to be here forever!”
Amy sweated profusely, and all she felt was terror. Her breathing became labored as Mary approached her with a scalpel. “The first thing we must do, my dear, is free you of that awful wardrobe!”
She slowly used the scalpel to cut way her clothes. “My, my, my, how youthful you are! Not a blemish on you!”
She placed the scalpel just under her ribcage and sliced her from side to side. Amy screamed and writhed in pain. The restraints popped and clicked as she pulled on them, but they did not break. Blood tricked from her mouth as she chewed on her own tongue.
Mary smiled and pulled the skin back. Blood poured from the gaping wound. Mary looked disappointed. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you right away. That would take all the fun out of it.”
She grabbed a needle and thread and quickly closed the wound. Afterwards, she stood there, gazing at the naked young body before her. “You are so beautiful, such a perfectly sculpted body.” She leaned down and whispered, “You must work out.”
Amy shook as blood ran down her cheeks.
Mary reached over and grabbed the saw and held it up for Amy to see. “The sternum is a hard bone to cut. I want to take a look at your heart!”
Amy screamed as the saw roared to life. The smell of the bone burning against the blade was mind-numbing, but the actual cut was minimal. Tears flowed from her eyes as she vomited all over herself. Snot intermingled with the vomit and ran into her hair. Though she flailed her arms and legs, the restraints held and she was powerless to stop Mary.
Before the cut was too deep, Mary stopped. Again, she grabbed the needle and thread and closed the wound. “I was careful to avoid your breasts; you should be grateful for that!”
Mary stood back and looked at Amy’s body. “My, my, your body is so perfect; I just cannot seem to be done with it. It’s just so frustrating. I mean, I’m trying to be nice, but your little group keeps pissing me off.”
Amy was writing in pain, to Mary’s delight. “Well, this has been a complete misfire, but I cannot let this perfect body go to waste.” She admired her grotesque work. “Even in this state, your body is too perfect to let it rot in the ground. Tell ya what, I’m gonna let everybody see you!”
Amy lost consciousness for a mere moment. As she woke, the restraints were removed, but she was still on the table. The trap door above her head opened and the table lifted skyward. Mary walked from the room and up the stairs. Amy was too terrified to scream; she only worried about what was next.
As she ascended into the theater, the bright lights temporarily blinded her. She felt the table come to a stop as her eyes adjusted to the light. She looked up and Mary was addressing the audience. As she turned her head, she saw all manner of horror. Creatures with one eye, disfigured souls, stretched bodies that were ten feet high, and more.
Mary continued smiling and spoke slowly, in an assertive tone. “Well my friends, we have a guest, a lovely person.” Mary looked down at her. “Don’t you just love what Andy has made here? He uses this place to scare people! They come on their own and he hurts them--isn’t it wonderful? The best part is that some never leave! They grow up, but still they come back. My favorite is John. He had a troubled childhood. He found his way here when he was twelve. Now he’s married, in his late thirties, with children, but still he comes back every year to hurt people. What a blessed person he is!” Mary’s face changed to hate and anger, “But you, your soul is ugly. You don’t like being right all the time and blah blah blah, woe is me. However, I think you would make a good addition to my family.”
Mary turned to the crowd and said cheerfully, “I’m gonna go get her ready!”
Suddenly Amy leapt from the table and off the stage. She ran with all her might for the door and slid it open. As she got outside, the wasps were waiting and stung her mercilessly as she ran.
In her head she heard, Run you little bitch! This is not over; I’ll find you! She put her hands over her ears as Junior laughed at her.
Amy ran, naked, tears streaming down her face, into the field. The sound of Junior’s laughter faded the farther out she got. She ran all the way across the field, through the cattle of the adjoining ranch and to the first house she could see. Without pause, she ran to the door and banged on it, screaming, “Please, help me!”
Fletcher decided enough was enough. The entity temporarily allowed his personality to surface. He was furious. Amy was right; this was going
Anderson looked at him. “What the hell do you want?”
Fletcher looked at him. “I’m taking charge and ending this investigation!”
Anderson walked past him and out of the room. “I doubt that very seriously, Dr. Fletcher.”
He followed him. “You cannot use women at your discretion then toss them aside!”
Anderson entered the living room and walked over to his chair, next to the monitors. “I’d be careful. I know how much this job means to you.”
“You’re full of yourself. You’re an arrogant, egotistical, lying old fart, and I will see that you pay for it!”
Anderson stared at him. He was sick of this man and it was time to let the cat out of the bag. “I know all about you, Mr. Fletcher. You think I have been out of contact with the university? The security guards found your car leaking oil, so they ran the tag to see who it belonged to. Seems it’s not in your name, but I vouched that it was yours. I found it quite interesting that it had been reported stolen a few months ago.
“In addition, your name cannot be found with your alma mater, but a picture of you was identified as Larry Guild. Funny, a man known as Dr. Larry Guild is wanted in Montana for sexually abusing his young patients. So the moment you think you have the upper hand, remember, I know who you are!”
Fletcher was shocked. How could he know all this? “Sure of yourself aren’t you?”
Anderson stood and backed him in a corner. “I may be a perverted old psychology teacher, but I’ve been around. Your real name has come up on multiple occasions, along with your failed views on psychology! Did you think I or the university would not figure it out? You’ve been on America’s Most Wanted twice!”
Fletcher was stunned. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing. I used you.”
Fletcher balked. “Trust me, I would know if you were using me.”
“Oh yeah? You think you’re getting paid for this? You think your name is going alongside mine? You’re cannon fodder, and I brought you out here hoping you would die! I need the publicity! You’re nothing to me, just another child abuser who’s stayed in the free world too long!” Anderson walked back to his chair.
“You’re wrong.”
Anderson laughed. “You think so? You think Dean Schulz is just going to let anyone into the university? You think that human resources did not figure out who you were? No, Dr. Guild, you were set up in my experiment. It was my idea to have Dean Schulz offer you the job!”
Fletcher reached down and grabbed a video cable. He walked behind Anderson and slipped it around his neck. With all his might, he tightened it. Anderson lunged from the chair, fighting him, but Fletcher was too strong.
Anderson kicked and flailed his arms, desperate to free himself from the stranglehold, but Fletcher held tight. The scowl on his face said everything. It was time for this old man to die.
As Anderson stopped struggling, Fletcher heard a voice. Yes, do it. Kill him like you killed Sarah.
Fletcher let go. “That was an accident.”
No it wasn’t. You cannot lie to me. I know what you did. You can lie to everyone else, but you’re incapable of lying to me!
Anderson gasped for air. He collapsed on the floor, exhausted from the fight.
Fletcher looked down at him, terrified of what the entity made remember. He grabbed one of the monitors and hit Anderson in the head with it. He laughed as Anderson fell to the floor, bleeding from his scalp. Slowly, he backed out of the house, as the entity continued to torture him.
He walked out of the house and looked at the ropes in the gallows. They were swinging. No, he thought, that’s not a solution. He heard a voice in his head. Yes, it is.
“I cannot, I will not!”
Yes, you will. You’re pathetic, you’re a loser. You couldn’t even take Jessie.
He put his hands over his eyes and refused to look. He walked blindly forward, crashing into the fence, crying and trying not to look at the gallows.
Finally he looked up, and somehow he had stumbled to the other side of the snack bar, near the iron gate. The voice in his head continued, I let you have that girl, but you refused. She was there, vulnerable, for the taking. Just like you took Sarah--yes, those were good times, weren’t they?
He shook his head. “No! I couldn’t, not again, not Jessie!” He grabbed his head and ripped out a fistful of hair. In a strained voice he screamed, “Leave me alone!”
The voice continued, I would have left you alone if you had taken Jessie, but not now. I’ll never leave you alone. I’m with you forever. Only one way out--take it!
He stumbled into the midway, crying out, “Save me, God! Save me from myself!”
The barn door to the theater creaked open. He cried out, “No, I cannot.”
Yes, you can.
“I don’t want to.”
Do it or it’s prison for the rest of your life. They’ll never let you out, but I’ll be with you, always and forever.
He continued forward, stumbling and crying. His head felt as if it was in a vise. The world was closing in on him, and he had nowhere left to go. He reached the morgue and entered the theater, but everything was gone. It was nothing more than a barn. In the center stood a large pail turned upside down. Above it was a rope tied into a noose. He shook his head as he stared at it. “I cannot.”
Do it, set yourself free. Do it, and I shall let you go!
Tears streamed down his face. His headache increased as his sanity wavered. He felt his soul was lost. Nothing made sense anymore. He had done so much wrong in his life that there was no way to fix it. Some sins were beyond apologies. He stepped onto the pail and slid the noose around his neck. He stood there, tempted to jump— tempted to leave. Back and forth, he wrestled with himself. Could God forgive such a person? He looked to his right and then to his left…
BOO!
He stumbled and fell and the rope caught his neck as he slowly began to strangle. His feet desperately searched for the pail, but he could not find it. The grayish figure floated in front of him.
The rope dug into his skin as his lungs began to fill with fluid. The ghost laughed at him. Yes, struggle for me. Let your life go.
With his last gasp of air, he said, “I’ll do it.”
The rope instantly broke and he fell to the ground, writhing in pain. He passed out after a short time, but he did not dream. Mary, who had watched it all, now watched him sleep, with great anticipation.
Back in the manor, Anderson struggled to his feet. He stumbled to the front door and locked it, fearing Fletcher--or rather, Larry--would return.
Day 4