Ghost of O'Leary House

Chapter Thirteen

Staring down at the page, his bloody hand holding the edge of the thick parchment, veins of red liquid spreading out like cracks in a window seeping into the paper with pulsating throbs, David could only think of how surreal it was to see something like this. Looking around his room for a pen, he grabbed a simple ballpoint from his desk before moving to sit on the bed. Bringing the pen to the page, he was just about to begin writing when the pages flipped of their own accord, skimming a quarter of the way through the book.

Slowly, a blood red image began to trace itself out on the wide page, small notes written in curvy script next to the image, which was slowly becoming that of an old woman, crouched over a red pool, her sketchy eyes looking out from behind a shawl.

No need to write, words welled up near the bottom of the page. I can hear what you desire.

“What I desire? What is it I desire then?” David asked, staring down at the page as the words sink back into the parchment.

The image of the old woman continued to fill in as the book began to write a new series of lines. Knowledge. You want to know what your grandmother is.

“And you can tell me?” David asked, suddenly extremely interested in what the mysterious book was revealing.

For a price, the book wrote back, the letters growing thick and bold as if someone were writing with a heavy tipped fountain pen.

“What kind of price?” David asked, curious.

The pages flipped a few times to a blank expanse of parchment, the parchment slowly growing red as a diagram was drawn out over the paper. A crude circle was drawn out with writing along the edges, a small list appearing next to the drawing. Looking it over, the list looked like an herbal grocer’s inventory, all in small amounts, diced and boiled stirred and mixed to make a tonic that instructed David to drink. This seemed like a rather inexpensive price as the instructions were seemingly harmless.

“So, you want me to do this?” David asked, looking at the book’s pages, awaiting an answer.

Atop the page, a simple script began scrawling out. It’s the only way to know, the book wrote.

“I don’t know… I really don’t know what to say about this,” David replied, suddenly feeling very silly about talking to a book.

David’s nose had finally dried, the blood flow stemmed after only a few minutes. Looking at the strange book, the circle in blood with several lines of arcane writing looped around the circle. It wasn’t any kind of language that David recognized, nor with any letters that David could recognize. It was as if the entire thing was written in some archaic script, something too alien to understand. Slowly, at the center of the circle a symbol began to fill in, a diamond with twin lines extending out from the top that broke off at a downward angle, following the diamonds edges parallel for a while. The symbol slowly grew darker until it obviously was meant to be drawn in blood, rivulets of the substance welling on the pages.

“What do you need,” David asked, slightly confused. “Do I need to draw this circle in blood?”

Your blood, the book scribbled quickly.

“But I’m not hurt, my nose isn’t bleeding anymore,” David explained, looking at the book in desperation.

Knife… the book wrote slowly, and suddenly the weight of the sheathed knife came to David’s mind. He’d stuffed it in his suitcase as a “souvenir” from his trip to his Grandmother’s house. David walked over to the suitcase, kneeling, and unzipping it. Reaching in he withdrew the leather sheathe and pulled the knife out, the metal gleaming with a dark shimmer in the low light of the room.

Looking back down at the book, his eyes widened at the sight of the word knife repeated several times on the page opposite of the diagram.

“Should I do this now?” David asked, looking at the book.

Tonight, after she falls asleep. Don’t let her know, or she’ll take me away and punish you, the book scribbled out before the words, diagram and list faded back into the parchment, leaving it blank once more.

“Wait! How do I get all of that back?” David asked, but the book was silent. No more words rose to the surface of the parchment. Flipping through the pages, he found that there were no markings anywhere within the text.

Sheathing the knife, he walked over to the closet and pulled out a hooded sweater, abandoning his nightshirt in favor of his hoodie... “I guess I better hide this with the book,” he said, moving to shove the book and knife beneath the mattress. Just as he’d pull his hands-free from the mattress, David heard the creak of the house as someone moved down the hall.

Quickly divesting himself of his bloody shirt, David turned to see his Grandma leaning into the room. Smiling, she looked over at David and waved him over. “Oh, you’ve bled all over yourself… go and take a shower, will you? I don’t want you getting the comforter all dirty while you sleep.”

“Okay Grandma,” David said, nodding as he walked past her. Stopping at the doorway to the bathroom, he looked over his shoulder at the elderly woman. “What’ll happen to the guys, do you think?”

“Those boys? They’ll be taken home to their parents no doubt, who’ll punish them as they see fit. If I had it my way, it’d be ten lashes with a switch across the back of the thighs, just like my father did.”

“Merely for trespassing?” David asked, stressing the last word.

“Especially for trespassing! David, I set up the fence around my garden to keep people out. They brought in a plant I’m allergic to and were going to put it on the ground next to herbs I regularly eat and boil for their juices. What if I ingested some of the pollen and my throat swelled up?”

“I guess I can see your point,” David said, turning to head for the bathroom. “I just hope they don’t take it out on me when I see them next.”

David didn’t know if he was supposed to hear what his Grandmother said as he closed the door, but he pretended not to. “Oh, they’ll already have enough to worry about rather than picking on you. I guarantee it.”