Natdia: Chapter 5

By Nostalgie Malaak

Warnings: might be scary/suspenseful (What? In a ghost story? You're kidding!)

Notes: I apologise for the sarcasm above. And below.

Disclaimer: sigh please don't sue me blah blah blah. I don't own a thing.

"Dad?" I asked tentatively. He was currently sitting on the front porch reading the local newspaper. Or at least re-reading the paper, it was only about four pages long and over a week old.

"What's up sweetheart?" He smiled at me and patted the rough wood beside him. I sat.

For a while I didn't say anything, trying to come up with the best way to say what I wanted to say without sounding like a scared little kid.

I finally settled on, "How did you get this job? I mean it's pretty remote out here."

"Ah…well that's a bit complicated. A friend of a guy I worked with actually owns the place. He doesn't come up here anymore. Something about his kids having nightmares all the time. Anyway, they needed someone to take care of the place over the summer in case they ever wanted to come back. Why do you ask?"

"Well…it's just that this place…I dunno, just feels kind of funny. Like there's someone watching us all the time or something." I wasn't completely lying. I did feel like we were being watched.

"What, turning psychic on me, kiddo?" he laughed. I gave him a weak smile in return.

"Ah, well…look I'll tell you something I heard from a local while your mom and I were in town yesterday. Don't tell Trowa though. He…well he seems troubled enough as it is. You don't happen to know what's gotten into him lately, do you?" Dad looked at me seriously.

"Um, no? He probably just misses Heero," I said.

"Hmm, well probably. Just, if he does anything that worries you, you tell us, all right?" My dad's brow pinched up. It made me realize how alike Trowa and my dad were.

"Ya sure Dad. So, what did the guy in town say?" I prompted.

"Right. Well apparently before the current owner took over the house it was owned by a wealthy Middle Eastern family. The guy couldn't say where they were from, only that he was 'one of those Arabs' whatever that means. Anyhow, the man had a lot of children, something like thirty. He came up here every summer and brought his kids with. Mostly girls. The strange thing was that the same girls were never seen twice. Some people thought maybe they weren't really his daughters and that he was doing….well you're too young to be hearing this….but bad things with those girls.

"Well, turns out they really were his daughters. He had twenty-nine of them in all. Oh and one little boy. And he really was doing bad things with them. The reason nobody ever saw those girls twice was because every summer he brought his newest daughters and then…killed them. He ended up killing all of his children, even the little boy, and burying them somewhere out here before he killed himself. Some people found him and the graves of all his kids out in the woods. It's so crazy. Who would do a thing like that? It really makes me sick.

"I probably shouldn't have told you all that, you'll get nightmares. I just seems…I dunno. This place is pretty strange and after what happened to the other owner and then to you guys the first night we were here…" he trailed off looking a little sheepish.

"Thanks Dad…for telling me. I won't tell Trowa." I said extending my pinky. My dad did the same and we both smiled as we pinky-swore over the matter.

"I'm headed down to town to pick up some gear, want to take a ride with your old man?" My dad asked with a smile.

"Sure, but you're not old." he just chuckled.

----------

I was surprised to find that the dinky little town at the foot of the mountain actually had something of a library. It consisted of one whole room and a loft crammed to the ceiling with boxes of old newspapers and magazines. Most of the main floor was more of a small museum with plaques and old black and white photos. Stuffed foxes, birds, rodents, and even a mountain lion stared at me from their fake wooden perches. The place was dark and smelled like musty cloths.

The historical caretaker at the door gave me a friendly smile and a wave before settling back into her elk antler chair with her trashy romance novel.

"You need anything, just holler," she called out.

"Thanks," I said politely. I don't think she heard me though.

My dad's story about the Arab man, Quatre's father, and all his children had answered a lot of my questions but not all. Why had Trowa been able to see Quatre from the very beginning and what did this evil man's spirit want with him? Trowa was special; I had always known that even when my parents didn't want to see it, but nothing like this had ever happened to him before. At least not that I knew of. Trowa had even stopped telling me about his nightmares a few years back after he and Heero had become friends.

Putting a book shelf between me and the woman up front I started searching the shelves for something that could help. In all honesty I had expected to walk in and see a book saying 'secrets of the creepy meadow revealed!' or something like that. Instead all I found were trail books, camping guides, and books on bird watching.

Towards the very back corner several books caught my eye. They were about the Native American tribes that had traveled freely all over the mountains and plains of the west. Curious I pulled out the first book I saw. Flipping through it quickly I glanced at the old pictures of families long since passed. It made me sad to look on their stoic features and know that they had been gone a long time. It also made me sad to see how poor some of the tribes had been. Nothing like the cowboy and Indian shows that still sometimes played on the old movie channel.

A word towards the back of the book caught my eye. 'Spirits.' Native Americans believed in all sorts of spirits and each tribe seemed to have their own beliefs. One ritual caught my eye. The Natdia: a tradition of the Paiute people. Said to reunite the spirits of the dead and heal all the peoples of the earth. The earth shall be reborn but the followers of the ghost dance will float above in safety. The ghost dance is performed in a continuous circular pattern.

I wasn't sure why that passage caught my eye until I read the last sentence. That's what I had seen in my dream. The one with the people dancing and the sense of calm. They were dancing in the meadow with the graves. Could the two be connected? I couldn't believe though that the acts Quatre's father had committed there were part of any Native American religious ceremony. Quatre had looked so very calm when his father had performed the act though. Was that part of the ritual, or were the spirits of the dead trying to help Quatre? The book mentioned nothing of horrible blood rituals and besides it didn't feel right. I had only felt peace when watching the dancing, not danger.

I left the small museum/library more puzzled than when I had come in. The lady in the chair didn't look up from her novel as I left. It seemed to take forever to drive back up to the house but I was glad for the wait. That house scared me more everyday and I was sure Quatre was right when he said we needed to leave.

Despite my ominous feelings the day was beautiful. The sky was bright blue without even a hint of clouds and the cool mountain air felt wonderful against my face as I ran back up the path towards the house, leaving my dad behind to lug up all his rented fishing gear. Since coming to the mountains my dad had become a regular mountain man, trying out all sorts of outdoors-y activities.

Taking a deep breath of the clean pine scented air I bounded into the house feeling rejuvenated from the little trip down the mountain. At first I didn't notice the quiet. Or rather, I had grown so used to the big house being so silent with so few people that I didn't notice anything out of place. But a feeling of unease came creeping up my breastbone. My heart sounded abnormally loud in the stillness and I put a hand on my chest as though to quiet it. There was something terribly wrong in the house.

Quiet as a cat I crept from room to room on the balls of my feet. Someone was watching me and the air was heavy with anticipation. Cool sweat trickled down my sides but I was too scared to try and wipe it away. I couldn't even bring my arms up.

Coming down into the ugly kitchen nothing seemed wrong at first. The bright sunlight from the windows made me squint a bit. When my eyes had readjusted they fell on the still form of my mother crumpled up against the side of the cabinets. A scream caught in my throat and my entire body tensed up as tight as a metal spring. My hands twitched spasmodically against my sides and my lips began to tremble. I couldn't see if she was breathing or not but she was very still. I didn't want to get any closer in case she was…she couldn't be…she was just fine at breakfast this morning running her hands through Trowa's messy hair. Oh god. Trowa.

With leaden steps I turned away from the sight and walked out of the house, my steps growing faster with each one I took. Being back outside was a little better. It didn't seem so closed in as inside the house was.

"Dad?" I called out weakly. I called a little louder. No answer. On the third call and no answer I started running down the slope to the car. I stopped my headlong flight down the hill by bracing myself against the hood of the little sports car. Even from in front of the car I could see someone lying down behind it. I shuffled around the side, tears blinding my eyes, and looked down at my father. He was laying spread out on the ground. Sharp little rocks were digging into his face where it lay on the gravel driveway. His rented fishing gear was still clutched in his hand.

Backing away slowly I felt a numbness creep through my body. When I felt a large rock brushing up against my legs I left myself sit down. My legs felt like noodles and my eyes kept blurring. I thought that maybe it might be nice to let the numbness slide over my whole body. I would lie down next to my father and just…just what? Lay there and wait to die? Lay there while that spirit took my family took…Trowa.

In a flash I was up and running. My legs wobbled dangerously underneath me and I wasn't wearing the right type of shoes for running in the forest. Sharp stones and plants cut at my bare ankles and the bottom of my feet were being stabbed mercilessly by sharp rocks even through the soles of my shoes.

By the time I reached the meadow dusk had fallen steadily over the mountains. My arms were covered in goose bumps but my face was flushed from the run. And from anger. Mostly anger. How dare he. How dare he! HOW DARE HE!

My hair was stuck to my face with sweat and I swiped it away impatiently with the back of my hand. Nothing in the meadow moved, not even a blade of grass being pushed by the wind. Besides my harsh stuttery breathing not a sound reached my ears. The silence and stillness only served to enrage me further. The scream that had been trying to rip its way from my throat finally emerged. It wasn't a human sound. It was the sound of a cornered animal. As the scream tapered away into the eerie quiet it was as if the dam had been opened and the torrent of fear and grief spread out of my mouth in chocking sobs and from my eyes in rivulets of tears. I felt my knees buckle and hit the ground hard, one ankle twisting painfully beneath me.

I'm not sure how long I stayed crouched over, screaming and crying into the dusty weeds. It was some time later that a small noise to my side caused me to snap my head up. My eyes felt so wide open that I was sure the whites were showing all the way around. My lips peeled back in a snarl.

Standing not five feet away was Trowa. Holding his hand was the monster.

Trowa didn't look scared or nervous. He looked calm, complacent. There was a dull look about his eyes that immediately had me thinking of Quatre being led willingly to his own death.

Upon seeing that horrifying tableau all the energy and force went out of me in one fell swoop. I felt drained and the whole situation seemed so very far away from me. I was so tired. How long had it been since I had slept the whole night through with no nightmares. I couldn't remember. It seemed like too much work to even try and remember.

Something sharp pricked the back of my arm. My drowsiness abruptly fell away as my hand instinctively reached back to feel where my arm had been stung. My fingers brushed against nothing but bare skin but something flickered at the edge of my vision. I managed to turn my head a little in that direction, though it felt like my neck was made of unmovable steel. A little behind me and to my left stood a girl dressed in white. She had the largest doe-brown eyes I had ever seen. She stood only up to my shoulder but her curly brown tresses were at least a good foot longer than my bushy red hair. With her pale complexion and soft wispy hair she looked like an angel.

A harsh manic laugh made me turn back towards my brother and the man who held him. The man let out another string of barking laughter and then rattled something off in a gravely voice that I couldn't understand. He was staring at the girl behind me. I felt another prick, this time at the back of my neck. I couldn't force my head to turn around but I knew that if I did I'd see another little girl with some of the man's features stamped on her pale little face.

I'd just about had enough.

"Excuse me, but what the fuck do you think you're doing with my brother?" I growled out. The man seemed a bit taken aback at first but his gaze was reluctant to leave the sight of the two apparitions behind me.

"You don't need to worry about him anymore Cathy," he whispered as his eyes slowly locked with mine. "You don't need to worry about anything anymore."

"And just what is that supposed to mean! You killed my parents!" I screamed.

"I did what I had to. You'll see. Everything's fine Cathy."

"No it isn't! And stop saying my name you freak!" My mind was spitting words at me but my lips wouldn't form them. My tongue was stuck to my mouth. Another sharp pain on my back and another presence behind me. Quatre's father jerked with the new spirit's presence. His eyes darted quickly from mine to look behind me.

"Cathy come here." I thought I detected the slightest hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Cathy come here, now."

"No." I tried to swallow around my too thick tongue. The action made my throat hurt.

"I said come here you little shit!" The man ground out. His eyes flickered unsteadily between me and the form at my back.

Another prickle. Sweat began sliding down Quatre's father's face and his eyes were bugging out of his head. It felt like we had been standing facing each other for hours. As I took a quick glance around me I realized that it could have been hours. Night had fallen though dusk had just begun to settle when I ran away from the shocking sights at the house. The sky was dark and only a thin sliver of light from the setting sun at my back was lighting the clearing. A gust of wind set a run of shivers up my spine.

"I don't have time for this!" The man hissed. He turned on his heel and walked away from me, dragging a stumbling and complacent Trowa along with him. My feet shuffled forward on their own accord and soon I was running to keep up with his longer stride. In the dim light I didn't see the dip in the ground ahead of me and suddenly felt the loss of ground beneath my feet. My stomach lurched and I fell heavily on the ankle I had twisted before. I bit back a cry and felt a warm rush of tears come into my eyes with the pain. As I sat there the world seemed to tilt and I desperately clutched at the thorny weeds around me trying to hold on.

When the world finally stopped spinning it was full dark and ahead of me was a blazing fire.

Pushing myself up roughly I sprinted for the fire. I could see the ghost of Quatre's father standing by a freshly dug crave, a knife glinting in the firelight. I charged forward and even surprised myself when I came upon the creature in a matter of seconds. He turned and saw me at the last instant. His large muscular arm came up and connected solidly with my head. I imagined I could here the crack of my upper back and head hitting the ground as I was knocked over. I was dazed for a full minute until I realized that the ghost was screaming in my face, his own face full of fury and body ridged with tension.

With my head whirling and throbbing I managed to use my elbows to help me sit up. He looked like he had been ranting for some time, pausing now and again to look around him wildly as if waiting for someone else to show up. Finally his focus snapped back to me and with terrifying strength latched his hand around the back of my neck and hauled me to my feet. I pushed back from him and glared up at him coldly.

He looked desperate and disheveled as he began raving again. "You just don't understand, do you! I wanted to protect them from the horrors of the world. I didn't want them to grow up knowing all the evil in the world. But here…if I tied them to this land…they could stay children forever. They loved it here. They would never have to grow old, never worry about the world. I did it to protect them! I knew what I was doing. I researched the place. The spiritual energy in this land is remarkable. I knew they would be safe here…but after…after. I couldn't live without them. I needed to be with them. I couldn't do it right. Not by myself. They're…so….so afraid of me…I don't know….and little Quatre….so lonely. That's why I need your brother. He cares for Quatre and Quatre cares for him. Now my little boy won't be lonely."

"You're crazy! You're…you're…" I couldn't even think of what he was except clearly out of whatever mind a ghost might possess.

"He'll be happy here. I know he will. I know you can be too. All the girls you could ever want to play with. Sisters for you. My daughters would love to keep you company. You'll never be lonely again Cathy."

A snarl began at the back of my throat and I growled at the man still holding my brother. His eyes widened perceptively and I saw a terrifying light dancing in their dark depths. It was then that I saw them. All his little girls forming a circle around us including the ones who had been standing behind me. And then there was Quatre, holding onto Trowa's other hand, tears streaming from his deep blue eyes.

Slowly the girls began to dance. Around and around they went. I could almost hear the drum keeping beat for them. The man looked around wildly, his eyes wide and panicked.

"I did it for you!" He screamed. "I loved you all so much!"

With those words the girls began screaming in rage and I saw my chance. I leapt forward. A splash of firelight glinting off the knife shone like hellfire in my eyes. A scream of my own tore through me. I closed in on the being. White shapes spun faster and faster around us. For less than a heartbeat Trowa's eyes cleared and locked with mine. His face was drawn with sorrow.

My headlong flight ended as abruptly as it started. In my ears the screaming of twenty nine little girls was as loud and shrill as a train whistle. Cutting through this as easily as a knife through flesh was the sound of two little boys weeping.

tbc