Welcome to Marredbury (Part 2 or 2)

The conclusion to the introduction

Asa and her husband's idyllic renovation project turns into a nightmarish ordeal when the history of the house intertwines with Asa's reality. In a bid to uncover the truth, Asa must confront the chilling tragedies that lurk within the house.

Paid Subscribers, enjoy the audio version. Thank you Carla Emmons for your work on this project!

Asa scooped up a pile of plaster and debris and dropped it in the five-gallon bucket beside her. The banging of Domenic’s hammer shook the floorboards. Outside, the neighborhood remained quiet. The thick fog still shrouded the day while the curtains of neighboring houses remained closed.

Domenic wanted to begin with the crumbling fireplace. The brick facade was brittle and needed to be replaced. The wall opposite appeared to have water damage, but it wasn’t load bearing and Asa preferred an open concept. So Domenic chipped away at the brick between the living room and dining room. He would have preferred Asa worked upstairs unpacking boxes, but she refused to be alone in the dark house.

The image of the dark figure still seared in her mind, the unease heavy in her gut.

She tugged on the too large work gloves and scooped another pile of debris in the bucket. The last pile filled the bucket, so she picked it up and carried it out the front door to empty it in the large, rented dumpster in their driveway. Leaning against the dumpster, Asa scanned the empty streets. The thick layer of fog still lay over the block. Her neighbors were silent and still. Only she and Domenic seemed to carry on with their day.

Walking back inside, Asa fished her phone out of her pocket. She had used some of her precious battery to register her new address in the local social media feed app. Now, she scrolled through the feed again. Nobody had posted since five pm the day before. Nothing about a power outage or water lines being worked on, and absolutely nothing about the heavy fog still darkening the day. She couldn’t find any answers with an internet search or any news articles to back up Tamera’s story. The virtual community was just as silent as her neighborhood streets. All her digging had brought her battery down to twenty-five percent, so she put her phone on airplane mode and rejoined Domenic in the living room.

She stepped through the threshold, her eyes pained at the sudden light. They adjusted, and Asa gasped as she took in the brightly decorated room. Embers burned in the tiled fireplace. Heavy curtains were drawn on either side of the windows. The walls had floral paper and wood paneling. A rug sat under her feet instead of dusty flooring. Asa staggered forward and steadied herself on a velvet green couch.

“Serena!” a voice called behind her. Footsteps approached and Asa watched the doorway leading to the dining room, breathless. “Serena!” the voice called again.

Panic squeezed her chest. She backed away, but Asa didn’t control the movements. Her heart thudded in her chest and her breathing grew shallow, but she wasn’t Asa. Like she was watching and feeling a movie scene, Asa remained a submissive observer. The feet that weren’t hers pivoted and bolted from the room. She glanced over her shoulder, a cry in her throat. A shadow darkened the dining room doorway. She couldn’t get away from it fast enough.

Then, in a blink, the space returned to the mess she’d been working on. The rug and furniture disappeared, replaced by the familiar broken room. Domenic grunted, and a sizeable chunk of brittle paneling crashed to the floor. Dust billowed before the lamplight.

“You okay?” Domenic paused and watched Asa with concern.

She stared at the room as her gut quivered. Her tongue stuck to her mouth, trapping her words. Not that any came to mind. The room had been beautiful moments earlier, finished, but in the past. At least, Asa assumed she had stood in a past version of the house. She hadn’t seen who was approaching, but he had called for Serena. The woman in the photo. She opened her mouth to answer Domenic, but nothing passed her lips.

“Hey.” He rushed to her side and took her arm. “You’re pale. What’s wrong?”

Asa glanced over her shoulder, drawn to the hanging picture.

“Why don’t you take a break?” Domenic guided her to the stairs. “You’ve overworked yourself.”

Asa allowed him to steer her up the steps. He walked beside her to the second floor landing and down the hall to their bedroom.

Asa could still feel the fear, the desperate need to get away. A deep, heavy terror. Serena had been running for her life.

Domenic sat her on the bed beside her. “You’re scaring me. Should I call a doctor?”

She cleared her throat and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I saw something.” Domenic narrowed his eyes, and Asa quickly amended her words. “At least I thought I saw something.” She pressed her palm to her head. The ache from the morning unfurled again behind her eyes.

Domenic clicked his tongue. “I can’t believe those guys came over just to scare you.” He rubbed her leg. “It’s been a weird day. Lay down for a bit, okay?”

Asa nodded. Closing her eyes would ease the headache, at least. She laid back on the pillows and Domenic stood. As he started to the door, Asa sat up in a panic.

“You’re leaving me here?” She felt like a child afraid of the dark. The black corners of the room, shadows cast by the tree outside the window. So many hiding places for horrors just waiting to pounce.

“I’ll be right downstairs.” He gave her a peck on the head. “Yell if you need me.”

He left before Asa could come up with a valid reason to get him to stay. For a moment, her breath hitched in her throat as fear coursed through her veins, but then she found she appreciated the break from her husband, like the air cleared without him there. No more judging looks and off hand comments about the house or their new neighbors. Despite the fear she felt downstairs, Asa’s panic lessened in the quiet of the bedroom. A calm wave washed over her. For the first time since arriving in Marredbury, Asa felt hope for her new life, the dream that she and Domenic sought. No pressure from her family, their fresh start. Asa inhaled and rested her head on the pillow as the house lulled her to sleep.

Sunshine glowed through the thin curtains. Asa blinked to adjust her eyes to the glittering light. She sat up in a four-poster bed. Under her hands, the soft fabric of a quilted blanket warmed her. Floral wallpaper covered the walls and she could make out muffled voices and clanking dishes downstairs. The room had changed again.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Water dripped in the bathroom. She kicked her feet over the bed. Lace tickled under her chin. She wore a long nightgown, a bulge protruding from her abdomen. Unperturbed, she rested her hand on the bulge and a wave of warm love washed over her.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The noise picked at Asa’s nerves. A fear trickled down her back as if the drip from the other room fell on her skin.

Not again. The thought ran through her head, not her own inner voice, but someone else’s thoughts ringing in her mind.

Asa didn’t understand the reaction. Why worry about a leak? Why did her heart suddenly pound against her chest? Her fingers trembled as she embraced her stomach, protecting what grew inside.

It was just a leaky faucet. Asa stood, attempting to convince her beating heart to slow, but somewhere deep inside, she knew the false hope.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She started toward the unlatched bathroom door. Each step rawed her nerves. One foot closer, three feet closer, the door within arm’s reach, then her hand gripped on the doorknob. No, not her hand. The fingers were long and slender; the skin freckled lightly below her knuckles. A hand Asa didn’t recognize.

All the while, the drip continued. It jabbed at her, unrelenting.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She pushed the door open and glimpsed herself in the mirror above, long frizzy braids loosened with sleep, the color light and length longer than her dark bob. She wasn’t in her body, but that wasn’t what frightened her.

No water dripped from the sink.

Asa walked further into the bathroom. She stood before a claw-foot tub where a woman with a pregnant stomach lay. Water filled the tub, a drip from the faucet rippling the otherwise stillness. Soft red seeped and mixed with the clear water. It enveloped the body in the tub, her stomach lifted over the surface like an island. The red haloed around her head, her face beneath the water, eyes open and unblinking.

Asa stumbled back. She flung her hand to her mouth as a shriek finally escaped her lips. No need to look into the mirror beside her. She knew the woman in the tub and the reflection would match. Tears filled her eyes as a moan passed her lips. Her baby. She hugged her stomach. There was no escaping the fate.

Asa squeezed her eyes shut, but could still see those sightless eyes, the way the water distorted her body as her blood slowly clouded the view. Asa fell to her bottom, the tiled floor cool through the thin fabric. With her palms pressed to her eyes to block out the vision, she inhaled a fragile breath and finally let out a scream.

The scream rang through her head as Asa’s eyes shot open. She sat up. Her chest heaved up and down as she eyed the dim room. Shadows seemed to scurry to their places with each blink. Asa was back in the bare bedroom she’d fallen asleep in Domenic beside her. An alarm clock glowed on the bedside table. For a moment, Asa stared at the bright red numbers. It was the middle of the night, and the electricity worked again.

Asa exhaled slowly. The image of the woman in the tub faded from her mind. She rested against the pillows, settling her hand on her stomach. She couldn’t possibly know if her and Domenic’s coupling made a baby. They hadn’t been too careful, but they’d been careless before and nothing had happened. She shouldn’t feel any sort of flutter so early, but the movement beneath her palm was undeniable. She cupped her abdomen and peered over her swollen breasts. A small smile suddenly danced on her lips. The nightmare evaporated as the truth seeped through her. She was pregnant.

The morning sun rose, and Asa was ravenous. Wearing only one of Domenic’s t-shirts, she hurried downstairs and dug through the welcome basket Tamera and the others had brought by. Jams and muffins, cheese and jarred sauces. They had unpacked the plates and silverware the day before. Now, Asa retrieved what she needed. Seated at the table, she dug in.

She crammed a muffin into her mouth and spread jam on toast while chewing. While washing down the toast with a glass of milk, she boiled noodles and then poured homemade sauce into the pot. Asa scooped the pasta directly from the bowl. Sauce dripped down her arm, leaked from her mouth, and trailed over her chin. With each bite, her stomach grew. Fueled by breads and sauces, sugar and crackers, the baby somersaulted inside of her. Asa forced a wad of chewed bagel down her throat. Space was running out in her uterus, but her stomach never filled. By the time Domenic joined her, her belly protruded over her feet.

She turned to him, tomato sauce smeared across her cheek.

He chuckled and wiped the mess away. “Good morning, beautiful.” He pecked her newly cleaned cheek and then dug through the remnants remaining in the basket. “You sleep well?”

Asa expected him to be alarmed. They didn’t want children. The move stressed him out, and he hadn’t found a job yet. She rested her hand on her bulging middle. The growth, the pregnancy. None of it made sense, but she caressed her abdomen, excitement coursing through her. Domenic fished a packet of crackers out of the basket. Perhaps he didn’t see the baby growing inside her. He didn’t see the figure in the mirror, didn’t have visions of another time. The baby could just be in her mind.

“Do you want to go shopping for paint today, now that the sun is out?” he asked as he opened the package of crackers and offered the first to Asa.

How had she not notice the sun? It shone through the open window above the sink, bright and warm.

Domenic leaned forward and ran his hand over her stomach. “We have to get that nursery finished soon.”

The baby did another flip at the touch of her father. Asa’s questions melted away. Their baby. He would be here soon. Domenic chewed a mouthful of crackers. Asa wrapped her arms around Domenic and pressed her lips against his. She tasted the salt from his snack, pulled away, and licked her lips.

“I’ll just go get ready.”

On her way through the narrow hallway, Asa stopped at the mirror. She stepped back and admired her work. Her face was full, her skin glowed. Standing to the side, she admired her bump. Serena’s picture still hung next to the mirror. She smiled at them, her own hands resting on her baby. No dark figures in the reflection, nothing to fear. Tamera and the others got in her head, just as Domenic had said.

Upstairs, Asa found her clothes didn’t fit. She dug a fresh t-shirt out of a box of Domenic’s clothes and wedged on a pair of shorts that she left unbuttoned under the hem of the shirt. Then she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face.

Her gaze flickered to the claw-foot bathtub. The same one from her vision or dream. Dream. Asa liked the sound of that. It had to be a dream. It couldn’t be real. Asa caressed her stomach.

“You’ll be safe,” she whispered to her unborn son. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind who rested in her stomach. Then she parted her hair in two over her shoulder and twisted both into braids. Under the bathroom light the color of her hair appeared lighter, or perhaps it was the hormones. So many changes.

With her braids done, she admired her reflection in the mirror. So many wonderful changes.

They ran into Tamera as they started to the driveway to their car.

“Thank you so much for the basket,” Asa beamed at her. “We enjoyed it this morning.” She meant her and the baby.

“Of course.” Tamera waved like she swatted a fly. “I just wanted to come by and apologize. We scared you with our silly superstitions.”

“Please.” Asa shook her head. The sun shone above them. Across the street, a neighbor worked in their front yard, another one jogged by with a dog on a leash. “It’s all fine. We’ll have to have you over for a proper dinner.”

“Once the house is done.” Domenic nodded in agreement.

“And the baby is born.” Asa caressed her belly and smiled.

“Oh!” Tamera’s eyes widened as she gazed down at Asa’s bulge. “You’re pregnant.”

Asa nodded. “It’s a boy.”

Tamera frowned. Her gaze flashed to the house behind them, and then back to Asa and Domenic. “I really should be going.”

She rushed away before Asa could reply. She turned to Domenic, words ready on her tongue to confirm the strange behavior of their neighbor.

It could be the pregnancy, but the world seemed to blur. The world split before her, a schism cracked between the blurred images. On one side, Domenic smiled at her, an excited father. Not Domenic, though. The smiling man had a dark mustache and kind blue eyes. The other half of her view, the real Domenic, peered back at her, bags under his eyes and sagging shoulders. His patience had worn thin as more and more work was discovered in the house, and Asa acted more and more strange. She blinked, and her sight cleared. Domenic grinned, the ends of a mustached pressed up, before he continued to the driver’s side of the car.

“She seems nice,” he said as he climbed inside.

A smile sat on her lips. Domenic’s excitement, his friendliness, made her heart light. She could question why her husband’s dour mood had changed so suddenly. Could it be that he wanted a baby after all, that they both had been wrong? She didn’t care, though. Asa slipped into the passenger seat, buckled her seat belt, and sat back to enjoy their drive to the store.

They returned home and spent the day clearing out the bedroom beside theirs, the nursery. The living room remained untouched as the baby’s arrival approached. Turned out they had a need for the bedrooms upstairs after all. After hours of clearing dust and debris and peeling wallpaper to prepare the room for the baby blue paint they had bought earlier, Asa readied her exhausted body for bed. It took her only minutes to settle under the blankets and fall asleep.

It was late when Asa awoke with a cry. She cradled her stomach as her muscles pulsed and cramped. In the dark, she watched the bulging form of her belly stretch and grow. Six months, seven months, eight months. Her skin thinned like stretched taffy, her back ached and her ankles swelled. A whimper passed her lips. She gasped as she smacked a heavy arm on Domenic’s shoulder, but he didn’t wake.

Sweat dripped from her brow and seeped into the sheets. Her soaked hair chilled her. The scene from the bathroom flashed in her mind, her breathless body under the water.

No, not Asa.

She lifted her hands, long slender nails clean and unpainted, unlike the chipped bitten down nubs she had known her whole life. Asa ventured another look toward Domenic. She startled. Where she expected to see her husband’s thick unkempt eyebrows and hear the soft drone of his snoring, she saw instead a slender man with a perfect nose and auburn hair. A stranger. Not her husband.

She cried out and clutched her stomach again. Another contraction wracked her body.

Out of breath, Asa’s vision blurred once again. Her world split down the middle. The bedroom before her became a mix of familiar and foreign curtains she never hung beside a pile of boxes with her scrawled handwriting labeling them. The baby inside of her kicked and squirmed.

Asa’s lungs burned. She gasped, but no air made it past her throat. She gagged. Water flooded her nose and poured from her mouth. She tasted bitter lavender, like the bath salts she’d packed and moved to the house. Bath water. It spilled into her lap and washed over her sheets. Another contraction stiffened her body, but she could only manage a rough grunt as she lunged forward and expelled more water from her lungs.

Her limbs were too heavy to lift and shake the man beside her. Domenic or not, Asa needed him. Her vision narrowed. Another contraction squeezed, but weaker. She dragged her legs over the edge of the bed as she gagged and clutched an unfamiliar blanket with quaking fingers. Her baby couldn’t die.

Braids swung in her vision as she stared at the hardwood floor. Warmth seeped down her neck and back. She gaped for air and as the breath raked down her airways, Asa brushed her fingers across her hairline. They came back bloody, but the water cleared from her lungs. With coughs and gasps, Asa’s inhaled with greed. As another contraction began, she flung an arm behind her, smacking the sleeping form of the man behind her.

Her shoulders jerked with another contraction. Asa grunted and clenched the wadded sheets on either side of her legs. Sweat dripped down the side of her face. She tasted salt and the copper flavor of blood as the moisture leaked to the corners of her mouth. Another jerk rattled her head. Another contraction arched her back and Asa’s breath caught in her throat, the pain instead of water filled her body this time.

“Asa!”

The voice reverberated in her head. Yes. Wake up. The man beside her needed to wake up. She swung behind again, but her clenched hand fell short.

“Asa!” Domenic called for her. Asa gasped between contractions. Where was he? “What’s wrong!”

Her husband’s hands clenched her shoulders and shook. Asa’s vision blurred. With a blink, Domenic watched her with wide, terrified eyes. Another blink. The strange mustached man ran his fingers through her hair. The bed trembled, like the world would crack and eat her whole. She squeezed her eyes closed.

With one final inhale, Asa looked up. She sat on the edge of her bed, a lamp flicked on beside her. In a panic, she snatched his t-shirt and lunged for him, desperate for his help, desperate for the baby. Her other hand flew to her stomach, and she was startled to find it flat. She frowned.

“Are you okay?” Domenic watched her with wide eyes. “You were screaming.”

Asa lifted the loose fabric of her shirt. She couldn’t make sense of her body. As she leaned forward, her wavy dark hair spilled forward, enveloping her vision. Asa brushed it aside. Her hair. She lifted her hands and studied her chewed nails, the skin of her fingers dried and cracked from dust and over washing. The room returned to the same disheveled mess Asa recognized. She pressed her palm to her stomach again. Just as she had known of the conception, she understood the emptiness of her womb now.

She didn’t mourn the loss. The baby wasn’t hers. She never wanted a child. Asa stood. Domenic followed her, standing close as if he feared she would collapse at any moment. She rushed to the adjoining bathroom and flipped the lights on. Nothing happened, but she could make out a dim reflection in the bathroom mirror. Domenic stood beside her. She peered around the door. The claw-foot tub was empty, apart from a layer of disuse.

“You’re scaring me.” Domenic remained in the doorway as Asa explored the bathroom.

She tucked her hair behind her ears and faced her husband. “You don’t feel it?”

“Feel what?”

The tragedy, the pain, death. It hung heavy in the air, stained the grout in the tiles and released by the peeling wallpaper around them. Asa wished she could brush off the nightmare as just a dream, but she couldn’t shake the woman she had become, couldn’t forget the terror.

She hurried from the room and raced downstairs. In the kitchen, she fished out the business card Tamera had left and snatched her dying phone from her pocket. After turning off battery saving mode, she dialed the number on the card. Tamera picked up after the third ring. Asa didn’t wait for her greeting.

“Tell me about the house,” she demanded.

Tamera took a moment to reply. “I really shouldn’t.”

Asa pressed the phone to her ear. “There’s no Paul or Mandeep to stop you. You owe us an explanation.”

Silence on the other side. Asa checked the screen to ensure Tamara hadn’t hung up. The seconds ticked forward. “Tamara!” she urged.

“It’s cursed,” her neighbor paused. Asa tugged at her clothes. Tamara continue, “just like the rest of the town, and it all started with the Sheltons.”

Asa slipped into one chair and rested her elbow on the table. Domenic took the seat beside her, his arm resting close enough to hers so they touched. She pulled her hand into her lap. A strange part of her missed the mustached husband Domenic had transformed into, found no comfort with the man she married beside her.

“Serena Shelton was the only one in the family that could control the ghosts after her grandmother died,” Tamera said.

Asa lowered the cell and turned on the speakerphone. Together, they listened to Tamera’s tale.

“The house holds onto the dead and the dead just want to live.”

“Dead?” Asa’s head throbbed. “Like ghosts?”

“Yes.” Tamara’s voice was soft. Asa clicked the volume higher. “I know it’s hard to believe, but the ghosts have haunted the house for decades. They latch onto the residents, reliving their lives through them.”

Like a pregnancy. A death.

Asa’s eyes darted around her. Her dream home, her new life. The run-down house with musty walls and scratched floors. She stood, picked up the phone, and walked into the hall. Domenic didn’t follow her. He pressed his palms to his forehead and stared blankly at the tabletop.

“Without people living in the house, the curse spreads in search of the living,” Tamara continued.

“We were relieved you moved in. People were getting hurt.”

Asa stopped in front of the mirror. Serena still hung on the wall beside it. She smiled, a warm, welcoming smile.

Don’t be afraid. Soft words whispered through the narrow hallway.

Asa studied Serena’s eyes. What had she seen? What horror had she lived? Asa felt the same tenderness for her baby as she did for her friend’s children. She admired her, a mother, a woman growing human life. Asa lost herself in those eyes. She raised a hand and ran her fingers down the ornate frame.

“We were afraid if we told you the truth, you would move out, but you had to know.” Tamara’s voice brought her back to the present.

“Enough!” Domenic launched to his feet and stomped to Asa’s side. He snatched the phone and brought the speaker to his mouth. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you really expect us to believe this crap?”

Asa believed Tamera and trusted Serena. She leaned away from Domenic, as if his harsh words were blows directed at her. She missed the mustached man, his smile, his tenderness. Another ghost of this house, she supposed. Another presence in her home.

Domenic hung up and thrust the phone back in her hand. “We’re leaving.” He shoved past her and started toward the stairs. “We’ll pack what we can fit in the car and find a hotel. Our fresh start isn’t here. We’ll find another place.”

He stormed up the stairs without waiting for a reply. Asa tucked her phone into her pocket and faced the mirror again. She parted her hair in two pieces. As her fingers twisted her hair into braids, she searched for the words to tell Domenic the truth.

“Why are you braiding your hair?” Domenic studied her from the bottom of the stairs. He carried a box in his arms.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

He wrinkled his nose and then shrugged. Asa looked at her reflection again. The braids brushed the tops of her shoulders, unlike Serena’s long plaits in the photo. Asa smoothed them. She didn’t need Domenic in the house, but the house needed her. She’d tell him he can leave, but Asa was staying. If Shelton House was cursed, Asa would search for a way to break it, find a way to help Serena and the other spirits. She’d save them and her home.

I hoped you enjoyed this first installment of the Marredbury series! Stay tuned for the continuation in a couple weeks. If you enjoyed this, please share with others. Word of mouth is so powerful. Your recommendation would mean so much to me and other readers who enjoy the spooky side of stories.

Go back to Part 1 or Continue to Episode 1

Episode 1: The Happening on Little Valley Road