"Well, Junior. You sure opened the damn thing." Buck admired the gaping hole, exposing a staircase going up.
Vin dug through the rubble and pulled out another diary, this one had a tiny six fingered hand print on the cover. Tanner had no reaction when Mary grabbed the journal and stuffed it into her pillow case.
"Stairs," Josiah groaned.
Larabee placed a foot on the first step and tested its strength. "Seems sturdy, just watch your step," Chris threw over his shoulder as he led the way, closely followed by Tanner. Wilmington brought up the rear, following the limping Sanchez who abruptly stopped upon reaching the top step. Leaning around Josiah's large frame, Buck realized that the group appeared to be looking at the same thing and turned his head, following their gaze. A rocking chair sat in the corner, holding the dried husk of an old woman. A diary was lying open in her lap, a fountain pen still rested in her hand.
"Barbara Petrie," Chris hissed in revulsion. "What the hell is this place?" Chris gasped, looking around.
"Kid, don't touch anything!" Wilmington warned JD, looking around the room in awe.
Everyone studied the room, sensing its importance but not understanding what they saw. The huge stained glass window with the familiar peach tree blossom motif took up an entire wall. Shelves lined the room with seemingly unconnected items displayed. A leather bandoleer filled with knives rested next to a hammer and some old fashioned square nails. A bowler hat shared a shelf with a scuffed pair of boots. A child's slate covered with painstakingly formed letters. The room was filled with photos of Larabee men down through the years. Everything was meticulously aligned and spaced. Jarringly out of place, a small beaded suede bag lay discarded on the floor under one of the shelves. Whatever it once may have contained had been lost at some point in time.
Jock softly began to name some of the people the photos. X's covered many of the figures and those photos hung above certain items.
In the middle of the room a massive table stood, its position eerily reminiscent of an altar. 'Relics' were displayed on its surface.
"It is a trophy room," Ezra drawled thickly.
"A serial killer," Josiah gasped. "She was a serial killer. A functioning psychopath."
"Oh, I remember this," Jock gasped. A small paper backed book lay on the 'altar'. "My . . . however many greats-grandfather, Jock Steele wrote adventure books. This is one of them."
"Penny Dreadfuls," Wilmington snorted.
"It's you." Jock blurted in disbelief, picking up the book and shoving it into Wilmington's hands.
"Who's us?' Buck stared down at the cover. "Hell, it is us."
An old black duster was spread over the table, a pair of silver spurs and a flat brimmed black hat were displayed with pictures of what was obviously an ancestor of Larabee's and a dark haired woman.
"That's Barbara Petrie," Jock stared closely. "I don't recognize the man."
"I do," Buck tossed the penny dreadful onto the table beside it. The lurid cover proclaimed, The Magnificent Seven.
"I believe you're right. The man in the picture is Chris Larabee. If I remember the story correctly, he was a gunslinger in the New Mexico territories in the latter part of the 19th century." Jock spluttered excitedly.
"Who were the rest of the Magnificent Seven?" Nathan asked with a sinking feeling in his gut.
"JD Dunne was the easterner. He's the one in the bowler hat. Nat, Nate, I can't remember for certain, but something Jackson, was an ex-slave and healer. The knives would have been his." Jock frowned, trying to dredge through his memory for the old story. "Buck was a lady's man, always losing his boots. I'd have to read the book to find out his family name. Sanchez was a preacher, always working on the church."
"The hammer would have been his," Josiah rumbled, looking over at the shelf containing the items connected with the Magnificent Seven. "Where does the slate fit in?"
"Billy maybe, if I remember the story correctly, the seven were all fond of the newspaper woman's son," Jock offered tentatively.
"No, this shelf is for trophies of the seven only," Josiah disagreed.
"There are two men are still unaccounted," Casey reminded while looking at the altar with certain repugnance.
"Who were the other two?"
"Tanner, a wanted murderer, although he was swore his innocence and the others stood by him. I can't remember if Tanner was the given or family name. The last one was a gambler by the name of . . . Stanford? Might have been Simpson." Jock spoke hurriedly as the names came back to him.
"I fear we are all in the spider's web," Ezra drawled faintly.
"I'd say the slate belonged to Tanner. It's his name over and over," Tony peered closely.
"There's is nothing for Stanford?" Josiah asked sharply, walking over to examine the shelf.
"I don't think so." Tony scanned the shelf closely. "Something seems to be missing from Tanner's stuff, too. There's an empty place here."
"Chris, Mr. Larabee, I think you need to see this," Tony said sharply.
"Elf," Chris breathed, touching the small bloody fingerprints on the edge of the slate. "What did he want here? His foot prints just disappear over by the rocker. Where is he?"
"I think he took whatever this was," Tony muttered, looking down at the gap in the display for Tanner then toward the distracted Mary, as if to make certain she hadn't heard.
"Ella Gaines?" Chris asked curiously, staring at a wanted poster of a woman pinned to the wall. A thousand dollar reward for Ella Gaines, wanted for murder. Beneath the poster was a shelf holding photos of the gunman Larabee, a small boy and a woman whose face had been gouged out. A woman's wedding ring and a fancy ivory comb were laid out, along with a slingshot and a children's book. Everything seemed to have some type of fire or smoke damage except for an out of position harmonica.
Josiah scowled, studying the wanted poster then the pictures on the altar. "She changed her name and became Barbara E. G. Petrie. Ella and Barbara both mean foreign woman. I don't understand the significance of the harmonica. It's out of place."
While everyone was distracted, Vin had moved to stand in front of the rocker, staring at the corpse.
"Heads up! Junior's getting upset," Buck raised his voice, alerting the others.
Reaching down, Tanner picked up the diary and closed it before carrying it over to the altar and laying it down next to the black hat. Walking over to Ezra, he handed him back the wooden box filled with cards. Pulling Pony out of his shirt, he petted it before placing the carving on the shelf and picking up the harmonica laying there in its place. Tanner sat down cross-legged in front of the low shelf and became lost in his own world once more, playing with the harmonica.
"This shelf is for that other Chris' wife and son," Casey said sadly, looking down at the charred and damaged items on display.
Mary seemed bewildered as she walked around touching things. "Something is missing, something is missing," she kept muttering.
"We're all dead if we're still here when the sun goes down," Nathan hissed as a flash of premonition faded.
"If you haven't noticed, the house is sealed." Sydney reminded sharply.
Josiah stared at the shelf where the items pertaining to the seven lay. "Find me some paper and something to write with."
"Here, these are old but they still ought to work." Nettie pulled a pair of doodle pads off a shelf.
"His name was Adam. He was my older brother," Chris sighed sadly, seeing the printing on the covers.
Josiah knelt down and placed a pad in front of Tanner, then opened the other one in front of himself. Nettie slipped a pen in Vin's grasp and stepped back.
"If you're the praying kind. . . I can use all the help I can get," Josiah breathed to the others before painfully lowering himself to sit on the floor. Leaning forward, he began to draw loops and swirls on the page.
After a moment, Vin put the pen point to paper and began to make swirls and loops. Josiah flipped to a clean sheet, while Casey turned to a clean page for Vin. Josiah began to smile as Vin's marks began to copy his. Turning pages again, Josiah began to write. 'Open the doors. Open the doors. Open the doors. Open the doors.' He copied over and over.
"Its mirror writing," Casey hissed as Vin began to form the letters, but his letters were the mirror image of Josiah's.
'Josiah go home, Nathan go home, JD go home, Buck go home, Angel go home.' Josiah wrote each person's name, ending with Chris and Nettie. Vin began to grow tense. 'Open the doors, open the doors, open the doors.' Josiah wrote once more.
"Stop it! Whatever you're doing, stop it," Mary protested angrily.
Vin dropped the pen and held Josiah's gaze. A high pitched sound filled the air, suddenly the stained glass window exploded outward.
"Damn you, tracker," Mary screamed, charging toward Vin and Josiah.
Nathan reacted without thought. As if from instinct, Nathan pulled a knife from the bandoleer of blades lying on the shelf. He threw it, pinning the diary to the table. A woman's scream filled the air and blood began to ooze from the book and drip off the table. Ella's body rose from its chair, screaming while clawing at its empty eye sockets before collapsing to the floor.
Vin and Josiah never flinched. Josiah kept writing and the sounds of rending and destruction filled the air as Vin held his gaze.
"Everyone, get ready to run," Josiah ordered.
"Grab some knives and start killing those damned books first," Chris bellowed into the rising wind.
Mary was screaming and trying to protect the precious volumes from the onslaught. Buck and Tony held her back as Casey, Nettie, Nathan, Bruce, and Angel ripped the pillow slip open and 'killed' the diaries that ran red with blood once pierced.
'Open the doors, open the doors, open the doors. Buck go home, JD go home,' once more, Josiah wrote a list of names.
"Now, everyone, go now," Josiah scrambled to his feet. Josiah stared down at Vin's writing in disbelief. Ripping loose the page, he thrust it into his shirt. Come on son, time to take you home. Josiah snatched up Vin and rushed for the stairs, recent pains now forgotten.
Mary fought desperately, managing to escape Tony and Buck's grasp. Gathering the damaged journals into her arms, she settled to the floor.
"Christopher darling, I did it for you," Mary's eyes were now a dead black with no reflection. "I love you and you love me. You always have," she smiled coyly.
"Buck, don't let that thing touch Chris!" Nathan drug Larabee to the stairs, forcing him down them.
"Go, go, keep going," Buck bellowed as the wind tried to push them back up the stairs. Reentering Ella's bedroom, they quickly took stock.
"I need to go get Mary," Chris protested.
"Listen to me Christopher Larabee! Mary Travis made her decision before she ever set foot in this house. The woman you knew doesn't exist any more. You have folks depending on you, here and now." Nettie stood firmly in front of the staircase. "Vin will follow after you, and you know it."
"Is anyone hurt?" Larabee asked harshly, shaking off Nathan's grasp.
"Other than those from earlier . . . bruises seemed to be the major damage," the healer volunteered.
"The rope's been cut," Bruce raised the tether and tugged, pulling an unattached length of rope into the room. A panicked murmur filled the air.
"The cards will still be there," Ezra said calmly.
"I'm certain they will be," Crooks sniffed derisively. "With this wind, I'm sure they're still just laying there."
"Certainly, they will be. The house doesn't have a hold on them." Maude smiled mysteriously.
"Why?" Angel asked as she was steered into the hall along with the rest of the group.
Despite a wild wind blowing, the cards lay unmoving along the floor of the hallway.
"There wasn't a Standish in her web, Sugah," Maude huffed.
"What does that have to do with it?" Buck panted as he and Tony managed to close the bedroom doors.
"The circle wasn't complete. Nothing of Standish's at all and none of the Larabees had been ever been willing." Ezra drawled.
"What do you mean nothing of Standish's?" Chris snarled.
"Mr. Steele was incorrect; the gambler's name was not Simpson or Stanford, although the old man did use those patronymics on occasion. His name was Ezra P. Standish. . . .the original, Ezra P. Standish." Ezra grunted in pain when a small painting struck his broken arm.
"You're saying those men gave themselves to that Witch?" JD gasped.
"Certainly not, she stole each of their lives. It's a male Larabee that had to be willing." Ezra huffed. "I'll explain later, I propose we vacate the premises with all due haste."
The group fled down the halls, following the trail of cards. Without warning, a wall crossed the previously open hall, blocking their path.
//Push, Junior// Buck ordered.
The wall launched away from them, picking up speed only to burst through the remnants of the windows at the end of the hall and fall to the gardens below.
"I hope it squished those damn gnomes," Bruce growled as he passed by.
Inky black tendrils began to ooze through the walls and creep along the floor.
//Look, she's there// Vin grasped Chris' sleeve, desperately trying to communicate.
"Break the mirrors, break all the mirrors! She's using them for her eyes." Chris barked. "It's why Vin was mirror writing, he's trapped on the other side of the mirror."
Vin stood shivering, while Nettie tried to sooth him. The crash and splintering of the breaking mirrors filled the air. Shards of glass and mirror suddenly filled the air and rushed towards the group only to be halted and fall to the floor impotently.
"Is Tanner part of the house too?" Crooks demanded.
"No, he's the key to getting out," Josiah roared. "Get moving! Vin can only hold her back so long."
Rushing down another hall, they put on a burst of speed as the Grand staircase came into view. Unexpectedly, the floor began to slither under their feet, making it almost impossible to stand.
"Here," Tony placed Angel's hands on a section of rope lying limply on the floor. "Pull yourself along with the rope."
"What if it comes loose?" Casey hissed, grabbing onto the rope and pulling Nettie close enough to reach as well.
"I tied it to Vin's dragon earlier, so it should hold," Bruce panted, struggling to pull the frozen professor along with him.
"Vin!" Nettie protested, trying to turn back.
"I've got him," Chris called, "Now get onto those stairs."
Ezra pulled his broken arm from the sling and used the damaged limb to help pull himself along. Meanwhile, Josiah's massive arms encircled Maude as he pulled them both along the rope. Inch by painful inch they managed to drag themselves onto the steps.
"We still have to get out of the house," Buck coughed painfully; his arms were wrapped around his ribs. "Guess Junior must have cracked a couple of ribs earlier. Think I finished busting them," he admitted to the others. "I'm gonna be slowing you down."
"Shut up, Buck. Nobody gets left behind." Chris growled. "How's Vin doing?"
"Does white as a sheet mean anything to you?" Nettie panted, holding Tanner close. "He's so cold. It's sucking the life out of him."
"It's that damn bearskin rug," Crooks groaned, looking at the base of the stairs.
The rug seemed to looking straight at Crooks with an evil grin. Claws rattled on the floor as it started foreword, only to flinch back from the stairs as if in pain.
"Time to move," Chris stood up, followed by the others. "Josiah, you and Nathan keep Vin and Buck on their feet and moving."
A last desperate charge for the doors was made, fighting their way through the moving rugs, violent wind, and attacking furnishings. Crooks' pained scream was simply ignored. Tony kicked the bearskin off the professor's leg. and pushed him back into motion.
"No!" Ezra cried in anguish when Maude reached out to grab an expensive bobble. "Momma, NO!"
Maude's panicked scream filled the air as she was sucked into a large floor length mirror. Ezra dove forwards and grasped her hands in a last desperate attempt to save her as she disappeared into the now liquid seeming mirror. Standish's forwards motion came to a halt when everyone, including Crooks, piled on.
"God help us," Josiah called out to the heavens, staring in horror. Ezra's arms were in the now solid mirror almost to his elbows.
"Turn loose of her Ez," Chris ordered brutally.
"She's my momma," Ezra sobbed softly.
A pair of hands grasped Ezra's elbows and pulled back.
"Stop Vin, Stop!" Ezra cried, "it hurts." Blood began to drip down the glass from Ezra's forearms. "Go on, Ah'm not going anywhere it seems." Ezra ordered sharply.
Vin scowled and placed both hands flat on the mirrors surface and did something. The mirror began to waver under his hands and he reached bodily into the shining surface, disappearing from the waist up before violently pulling back, bringing Ezra and Maude with him. The mirror shattered with a scream like a woman in pain.
"Go, Go," Chris swung the limp Tanner over his shoulder and charged for the door. Josiah and Nathan swept everyone before them out the door. The stumbling escape ended, when they collapsed by the dragon fountain.
"Stay with me kid," Chris patted Vin's pasty white cheeks. "Jackson, he's turning blue."
A harsh gasp and Tanner started breathing again. "Bad, BAD HOUSE!" Vin announced as he opened his eyes, sounding like an angry three year old.
"Yeah Junior, BAD HOUSE!" Buck laughed giddily in relief.
Abruptly, Vin struggled free and pushed himself up against the fountain. Reaching out shakily, he tapped Ezra's shoulder and held out a hand, wriggling his fingers.
"You want my cards? Now?" Ezra rolled onto his back, staring in disbelief. Shaking his head, Ezra reached into his inner pocket and pulled out the carved wooden box, offering it to Vin.
Tanner gasped in pain but he never stopped, his fingers pushed on sections of the box. A soft click was heard and a card slid out of a secret compartment, much to Ezra's surprise. Vin handed the card to Standish. Ezra looked at the hole through the ace of spades in bewilderment. Vin moved painfully until he could pull the harmonica from his pocket. Pushing it into Chris' hand, he pushed it against Larabee's lips. Tanner weakly pantomimed tossing the card toward the house. Shrugging, Ezra slung the card towards the house.
"Play it Chris," Buck ordered.
"I don't know how," Larabee hissed.
"It don't matter, just blow on the damn thing." Buck growled.
When Chris blew on the harmonica, the playing card seemed to catch a breeze and float across the drive and through the front door of the house where it burst into flame and fell onto the trail of cards laying on the floor. Flame raced down the card trails. An explosion collapsed the front entrance when the flame reached Wilmington's watch. Echoing explosions occurred at each compass point, collapsing the house in on itself.
JD hobbled over to the club van. Opening the door cautiously, he turned the key and was relieved when it purred to life. "Let's get out of here."
Everyone packed themselves into the van and they pulled out. They were surprised to see no sign of the ornate gates as they rolled through the entrance. Safely outside the grounds, they sat and watched the Folly burn in the twilight. Fire trucks and emergency vehicles could be heard in the distance and soon made their appearance.