The Haunting Of Holland House: Chapter Nineteen
THE GHOST HUNTERS APPRENTICE - BOOK ONE
Todd jolted awake, his heart hammering against his ribs. The room was cloaked in darkness, the shadows deep and impenetrable. He blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the nightmare that clung to him like cobwebs.
In the dream, he had been back at the Holland House, wandering the dusty corridors alone. But the creaking floorboards and peeling wallpaper were not what unsettled him.
It was the feeling that something was in there with him, watching him, following his every move with malignant intent.
He shuddered at the memory.
It felt so real, so vivid.
But it was just a dream, he told himself.
Just a bad dream brought on by stress and lack of sleep.
Still, as Todd lay there in his bed, ears straining, he couldn't escape the prickling sense that the presence from his nightmare had followed him into wakefulness.
The air felt heavier somehow, weighted with unseen eyes.
His curtains fluttered where there was no breeze.
Todd's heart continued its frantic patter. He took a deep breath, trying to slow it. Just your imagination playing tricks, he told himself.
But he couldn't ignore the creeping unease that slithered up his spine.
Something was in here with him.
The shadows seemed to shift and blur at the edges of his vision. He thought he saw a darker patch detach itself from the corner and slide slowly along the wall.
Todd squeezed his eyes shut, counting to ten, willing his heart to steady. When he opened them, the shadow was still there, inching closer.
Fear spiked through him, cold and paralysing.
"M-meg?" he called tentatively into the empty room, voice wavering. "Meg, is that you?"
A thud, under his bed.
Oh hell no.
Todd grabbed his phone and switched on the torchlight.
He slowly crawled to the edge of the bed, and leaned over, covering the lint-filled and dry tissue-covered floor.
Then, he dangled over the edge, upside down, and slowly lifted his bedsheets, peering into the darkness underneath the bed:
Some old socks, old comics, and a thick layer of dust were all the resided under there.
Until there was a hint of movement.
Todd aimed the light at the source.
And his breath caught in his throat as his torchlight illuminated two terrified eyes peering out from the inky blackness under his bed.
Dave.
Dave's face was ghostly pale, his mouth stretched open in a silent scream.
Before Todd could react, something snatched Dave's and yanked him backwards into the dark void. Dave's fingers scrabbled desperately against the wooden floorboards, leaving deep gouges, before he was wrenched out of sight with a final, anguished wail.
The torch beam shook wildly in Todd's trembling hand as he leaned farther over the edge of the mattress.
"Dave!" he shouted hoarsely into the yawning blackness.
No response came, only a horrible wet sucking noise receding deeper into the shadows. Todd's stomach roiled.
He leaned down, straining his eyes to see any sign of Dave in the inky abyss. A foetid smell wafted up, like rotten meat left to spoil. Todd gagged, bile rising in his throat.
A skittering sound came from directly below him, like long fingernails tapping against the underside of the bed frame.
Todd recoiled with a yelp, losing his balance.
He toppled off the mattress, striking his head sharply on the nightstand as he fell.
Todd got unsteadily to his feet, retrieving his phone where it had fallen. He cautiously peered back over the edge of the bed, shining the light underneath.
No Dave. No groping hands or malevolent presence.
Just a dream.
Todd let out a shaky laugh.
See, nothing to freak out over.
He rubbed his eyes, exhaustion settling over him.
Time to try getting back to sleep.
As he climbed back into bed, his phone lit up with an incoming call.
Dave Kane.
Weird coincidence.
Todd answered, "Hey man, what's up?"
A guttural, inhuman snarl emanated from the speaker. "M-y… f-friend-d..." it rasped wetly.
Todd froze, blood turning to ice in his veins.
A shriek pierced his eardrum, so loud and anguished that Todd dropped the phone with a cry.
He clapped his hands over his ears but couldn't block out the agonised wailing emitting from the phone on the floor.
"No, no, no," Todd whimpered.
This couldn't be real. It couldn't!
The TV on his dresser suddenly blinked on, casting the room in a flickering glow. An episode of Spirit Seekers filled the screen, the host Shirley beckoning to Todd.
"We're waiting for you," her voice echoed from the TV speakers despite it being muted.
Todd fumbled for the remote with trembling hands and frantically stabbed at the power button until the screen went dark once more.
Silence engulfed the room.
Todd huddled on his bed, clutching his knees to his chest as his breath came in panicked gulps.
This was real.
The presence, the voices. They were real.
And his friends were in mortal danger.
He had to do something. He couldn't hide from this any longer.
With a deep breath, Todd steeled himself. He wasn't going to lose anyone else he cared about. Not again.
NEXT CHAPTER…
Thanks for reading!
The full story of THE HAUNTING OF HOLLAND HOUSE is available in eBook and paperback everywhere if you would rather check that out, get your copy here!
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