Page 40 of One Last Whisper

It’s Lord Edmund’s behavior that I find most interesting. His reaction when Lady Cordelia brought up Evelyn was quite shocking. Almost as though he was frightened. But of what? What could the memory of his dead wife conjure up that would frighten his lordship? What does Lady Cordelia know that Lord Edmund fears she may let slip?

I dress for bed, but I already know I won’t sleep that night. I will only lay awake waiting for the opportunity to learn what I must.

As the storm rages outside, it beckons me. I know exactly where I must go to learn more.

Tonight, I will find answers.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I open my eyes and find myself once more in the false-color green field from before. The sky is a blue as brilliant as my sister’s eyes, intense and piercing.

The door is ahead of me, but this time I walk to it of my own accord. No force compels me.

I open the door, expecting to find my sister, but instead, I find a stone passageway dimly lit by torches in wall sconces. Within the passageway is a staircase that descends downward into the Earth.

My bravery wavers. I hesitate a moment, and as soon as I feel myself resist, that force returns to compel me. I move down the stairs, descending for what feels like hours. The passageway is cool, musty and damp. The lights flicker, and from time to time, I hear soft moans echo off of the stone.

I don’t feel terror, and that surprises me. I would expect to be nearly prostrate with fear, but it’s not fright I feel. Instead, I feel a low, pensive dread. I know I’m about to witness something terrible, but I don’t know what it is yet.

The passageway twists as it winds down. I am descending a long, shallow spiral toward the center of the Earth. And what will I find when I arrive? Will my sister be waiting for me? Will she be the pale, hollow-eyed ghost? Will she be the statuesque Fairy who captures the fantasies of my previous employer, the artist Victor Holloway? Will she be the woman begging for help who invades my first nightmare here at Blackwood Castle?

I am so preoccupied with this thought that I don’t realize I’ve stopped until a door opens in front of me.

And now I’m frightened. Now I’m petrified. Now I would cry out, “No, no, no!” if I could.

But I can’t. I can only stare mutely ahead and watch the scene unfold.

I am in the hospital. The psychiatric hospital in New York, where I am housed for eleven weeks following the closure of my sister's case. I see several orderlies and nurses moving down a hallway. I don't remember their names, but I recognize them. These are faces I saw often during my stay here.

The force compels me forward again. I try to resist, but it is the struggle of an ant against a cruel and vindictive god. I walk through the hallway and come eventually to room five-forty-three.

My room.

The door opens. I am sitting on the bed wrapped in a straitjacket, my eyes staring wildly ahead. Tears fall from them, but I don’t blink. In front of me, Doctor Bradbury sits on his stool, writing notes on his pad, asking me questions.

This is not so terrifying yet. I am in poor condition, but other than slight humiliation, I am almost relieved.

Then I shriek. The sound pierces through to my soul, and the me that stands behind Dr. Bradbury shrieks with the me that sits on the bed.

“Shut up!” I cry—the me in front of the doctor. “Can’t you hear her screaming? She’s calling for me, but she’snot here!I can’t help you, Annie! God damn it!”

“That’s right, Mary,” Doctor Bradbury says soothingly. “She’s not here.”

“But sheis!She’s here! She’s in the room with us right now. She’s here, and she’s going to punish me for driving her away. She’s going to punish me for letting Mother hurt her. I let Mother hurt her, and now she’s going to hurt me!”

Doctor Bradbury shares a grim look with a burly orderly. “Tell me what you hear, Mary.”

“It’s a scream,” I whisper. “She’s screaming.”

“What is she screaming.”

I hear a rustling and realize that the me on the bed is shaking uncontrollably. “She’s screaming, ‘This is your fault, Mary.’ And she’s grinning. She’s smiling at me, and her eyes are empty, and she’s telling me that I’m next, and it’s all my fault.”

I gasp as the memory floods me. The scene in front of me vanishes, and I return to the first nightmare, the one that plagues me for these thirty years and longer.

I am in the forest again. Annie stands in front of me, pale and ghostly. I walk toward her, calling her name.

She turns, and her eyes are empty black holes. I freeze in terror as the apparition approaches. Her lips split into a wide grin, too wide to be human. She walks to me, leans close until our lips are almost touching. She whispers, “You’re next, Mary.”

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