Chapter Three

"How kind of you to bring her to me." The creature cackled and I thought I glimpsed wickedly sharp, black teeth. The voice was unlike anything I had ever heard before, both smooth and seductive, and yet at the same time, utterly chilling, like the sensation that nails on a chalk board creates.

Thomas stood up, standing between us and although he was no longer touching me, the appearance of the room didn't revert to my, more comfortable mental picture.

"If you want her, you'll have to go through me."

"With pleasure." Its grin widened.

"You can't kill me," Thomas reminded the creature. "You are no more real here than the ghosts you have condemned to keep you company."

"Perhaps not, but I can hurt you, and I can rip her soul out. Perhaps that's why you brought her here, because you're lonely. Is that why? Because I can give you an eternity with her spirit, Thomas. Just give me her body. Nobody will know the difference."

"Never."

"You will not stop me this time, Thomas. You got lucky last time but at heart, you are weak; you always have been and deep down, you know it."

"I was weak, that was before I knew the truth." His voice wavered, as if even he was unsure that he spoke the truth.

The creature cackled and I wondered why it didn't attack him. Perhaps it couldn't. Thomas had said that her body died soon after they crossed over, so perhaps its powers were now limited to a psychic assaults, although I had a feeling that it had a lot more in its repertoire than just harsh words.

Suddenly it lunged at Thomas, its gruesome clawed hands passing right through his chest, like a hologram, but making him scream with pain nonetheless and when it removed its hand, he collapsed to the floor, moaning in agony.

And then it looked at me. Fuck!

"I love it when amateurs try to visit my realm, they know so little that they can't get back. That was how I first escaped this prison, you know, when Johann Faust paid me a visit."

What had Thomas said, try to picture myself in my own body?

She reached for me.

"Wait!" Stall; I have to stall her… it, whatever. "If you knew Faust, did you make a bargain with him?"

I tried to picture myself lying on the sofa. Reclining, safe, happy (until very recently).

"No, there was no bargain, he had nothing to bargain with."

And that's when I felt it, my vision blurring slightly as I was pulled back into my own body but just before I left, I saw Thomas launch himself at the creature.

I woke up with a gasp, and sat there, panting for a few moments, waiting for her to reappear in my reality, but she didn't come.

I padded through to the kitchen and turned the kettle on to make tea.

Just before I left, I'd seen Thomas pass straight through the creature, but this time she was the one who cried out. Evidently, he had learned ways to hurt her too.

How the fuck was I going to stop this thing when I knew nothing about it?

Well, I had a name, Faust. I'd always assumed he was fictional but a quick internet search showed me that he was a real person, although little seemed to be known about his life.

I positioned the laptop on the dining room table, where I could glance up regularly into a large mirror over the fireplace. I didn't see Thomas for two hours, but eventually his reflection returned, watching over me again.

"Thank you," I told him, and he nodded.

I couldn't see his features well any more, but I could remember them. Poor man, trapped there with that monster for eternity. I wished there was something I could do to help him. He seemed to know a lot more about what was going on that I did, so and I wished that he was here so he could really help me.

After two hours of searching, I had little useful information about Faust but if he was the one who had originally freed the creature, maybe discovering how he had freed it would give me insight into who or what the demon was.

Through Google books, I found reference to Faust in a book on Alchemy but only snippets were available to read online and the book was only available in paperback. An Amazon search showed that it was also out of print but if I paid £129 I could get a second hand copy from a book seller with listings on the site.

It was expensive but I needed all the help I could get, so I ordered it to be delivered here. First class was my only delivery option but the estimated delivery date was three to five days' time. I would just have to hope that the bookseller fulfilled his orders quickly.

I then did a google search for the author or the book, Dr Martin Fellows, and found that he was a lecturer at an American university. His bio said that he specialised in middle aged history and was a direct descendant of Faust.

The site had contact details for him, presumably for the students, and I decided that it couldn't hurt to contact him.

I made some dinner while I decided on a cover story, then emailed him with something close to the truth. I was researching an old English family, I wrote, and in the course of my research I had discovered reference to Faust in a letter and had been trying to discover where Faust and the Sharpe family might have crossed paths.

I didn't know if I'd hear anything but I could hope.

Since I had nothing else to try, I settled on the sofa with the book Thomas had left for me.

Archidoxes of Magic covered science as well as mysticism, which evidently had been considered one and the same back in the 15th century. I paused only to get drinks but as I was growing tired, I came across a passage on gateways and the more I read, the more I began to wonder if I could bring Thomas back.

The creature, probably a demon of some description from what I was reading, was incorporeal, so if it came through at the same time, would it be able to do any damage? Well, probably, yes, because it intended to possess me, didn't it? So I'd have to be sure to only bring Tom through.

I read the instructions four times, just to be sure I had read everything correctly. I could do this, it was literally just a matter of drawing a symbol then chanting some Latin phrases while picturing the dimension you wished to open a doorway to.

Putting a finger between the pages, I went back to the table but Thomas wasn't visible in the mirror.

"Thomas?" I whispered. "Are you here? If you are, please show yourself."

Nothing happened, so I went into the kitchen to make some tea. It was now gone midnight and I should probably go to bed soon. The thought of the nightmares that awaited me stopped me though and as I sat at the dining room table, sipping my tea, I began to question the whole encounter earlier. It just seemed exceptionally coincidental that he happened to leave me a book that could free him.

Was I being played? Granted, he hadn't asked me to free him, but master manipulators often don't ask outright for what they want, they make you think something was your idea all along. The creature was his sister, after all, so maybe he was working with her to free them both.

Hadn't he married Edith under false pretences? And I still didn't know the reasons for that, or the whole story. Why had Lucille even wanted Edith? She wanted me for my body but she'd already had a body when Edith came around.

Since Thomas wasn't around, I decided to sleep on it, hoping I might have more answers in the morning.

Well no, obviously I'd have no more answers, but I might have a stronger opinion about what to do next.

"The answer is simple, Thomas, marry a wealthy woman."

"That is not an answer, Lucille," I shot back. "There are few women in England who are wealthy enough for our needs."

"Then we'll go to America. They have plenty of money but no class, while we have lashings of class but no money. It's the perfect solution to everyone's problems."

I sighed, wondering why this ancient house had to be repaired anyway. "It would be cheaper to knock it down and rebuild," I said for perhaps the thousandth time. "We have more than enough funds for that, and the new house will not have the flaws that this one does."

"No!" Lucille stood up, her eyes blazing. "This house is not only our home, it's our heritage! Bessy Sharpe build this place in 1714 to be a permanent home for the Sharpes, and I will not let you destroy our heritage because it is more convenient."

She stormed from the room but even if she had stayed, I knew there was no point in arguing with her when she was like this. Still, I had always hoped to marry for love, not money. We weren't impoverished, we simply didn't have the massive funds necessary to keep propping up this house. Put simply, this place was a money pit, and I had wanted to knock it down and rebuild ever since our father passed away.

America might be the answer to our problems though, as she suggested. The wealthy there were exceptionally wealthy, and many did seem to be clamouring for the legitimacy that an English title would give their families.

Perhaps while surrounded by so many wealthy families, it might be possible to find love and fortune.

I hoped so.

"You're falling for her."

I gazed at Lucille with incredulity. "You say that as if it is a bad thing!"

"Love is a myth, Thomas, a fairytale, and nothing good ever came from believing oneself in love." Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You forget, Lucille, if it was not for love, I would have cast you out of my home years ago. Your ways, your reasoning, even your very manner, do not make for a harmonious life. If I did not care for you as much as I do, you would have been left to suffer the injustices of life alone."

"I am family, Thomas!"

"So it she!" I finally lost my cool, raising my voice to her. "The moment I married her, she became my family, every bit as much as you!"

Lucille raised a hand to strike me but although surprised, I caught it, wondering only vaguely at how she seemed to be almost a match for my strength.

"You told me to marry to save your precious house, and I have done so," I spoke clearly and concisely, leaving no room for confusion. "Your say over my life ends there, Lucille. You might feel possessive of me, but I am my own man and I am done catering to your whims. Edith is my wife now, and I will build a life that she and our family can be proud of."

"You're a fool to choose her over me," Lucille spat.

"The only unwise decisions I have ever made were at your behest, Lucille. That ends now."

She gave me a falsely sweet smile and lowered her hand. "If you remain close to her, all that woman will know is misery and suffering, and it will be your fault, Thomas."

She turned and left.

Given that we have grown up without a mother and with a distant father, I had always tried to understand the slight jealousy Lucille sometimes displayed with me, but as we got older, it was harder and harder to ignore and if I'm honest, more than a little disturbing.

For the first time since I got here, I awoke without the usual shocks from a nightmare, but I could still feel the intense feeling of dread that Thomas' had as his sister walked away.

Maybe Thomas hadn't seen it, or maybe he hadn't wanted to, but Lucille looked at him with something other than purely sisterly affection, and that was the source of her jealousy towards Edith.

Although it was still dark out, I knew I wouldn't get back to sleep, so I got up and headed to the kitchen, turning lights on as I went. As I made my coffee, I pondered the spell from the book, wondering if I should try to bring Thomas back or not.

There was no saying that my dreams were truthful, they could just be what he or Lucille wanted me to see.

But Thomas had been right, I had always been intuitive and a good judge of character, and he seemed truthful to me. I would try to bring him back, I decided, and I read the passage over again as I sipped my coffee.

The lights flickered but not like before, they dimmed gradually, then brightened again, three times. I looked around, fearful that Lucille was back but instead, I caught Thomas' reflection in the microwave door. He looked perfectly calm, which calmed me down a little.

The lights weren't erratic as they usually were and I has to ask. "Are you doing this?"

I saw him nod his head then he held his hand up and slowly, the lights slowly dimmed until they went out.

I could no longer see his reflection and I had no idea what the point of this was.

"Thomas?" I whispered.

Suddenly a small light sparked in the next room and I went through to find that a candle had been lit. I didn't even recall there being any candles in here.

Before I could ponder it further, another light sparked near the apartment door. He'd led me from the kitchen to the lounge to the front door. I opened the door and looked out into the hall. The lights here were also off and at the end of the hallway, another candle flared to life.

It was now blatantly obvious that this was a breadcrumb trail, but did I really want to follow it? What if I was being led into a trap? The house was supposed to be alive, wasn't it, so what if this was the house guiding me, not Thomas?

Given everything that had happened though, did I really have any choice but to see where this trail led?

I grabbed my keys and closed the door behind me, cautiously making my way to the next candle. As I rounded the corner where the candle was, another one sparked to life in the middle of the corridor. I made my way to it but another one didn't come to life; surely this wasn't where he wanted me, there was nothing here?

I hard three soft taps on what sounded like wood, and I looked at the mahogany panelling on the wall. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I noticed a very slight seam and licking the candle up, I discovered a wooden handle. It was subtle, looking more like a decoration than a door handle and made of the same wood as the panelling but when I turned it, something clicked and I was able to pull the panel open.

I now faced a set of narrow and steep steps, not covered in plush carpeting like the grand main staircases were and I realise these must be the servants stairs, so they could have moved around the house without encountering the family often.

A candle flared to life on the next landing up and, keeping hold of the candle I had picked up, I climbed.

I was staying on the first floor and I climbed two more levels, then another candle by the door told me to open it. Judging by the lack of opulence here, bare floors and no wood panelling, I found myself in what must have been the servant's quarters, although now they appeared to be used for storage. There was one window at either end of the corridor I was in but there wasn't enough light outside to help me see.

A candle flared to life midway down and I made my way to another door, this time not cleverly disguised. I opened it and faced another staircase and I knew that the only place it would lead, was to the attic.

The space mirrored the corridor below, long and thin, but there was no window up here. I looked around for a light switch but couldn't see one and examining the rafters, I could see no light fixture hanging, so the renovations hadn't extended up here.

It didn't appear that anyone had been up here in years as the dust was so thick, it was more like a layer of fine dirt. There were trunks and cases stored everywhere, stacked up in a haphazard fashion against the walls and in random piles in the middle of the space.

I had no idea where to begin and just as I felt going back downstairs and returning later with a battery torch, a final candle flared into life, sitting on the top of what looked like a leather trunk. It had three catches holding it closed, as well as a leather strap or belt sewn on and buckled around it.

The leather was as stiff as hell but undid easily enough. The three metal fastenings were a different story and looked as rusty as hell. No amount of pushing or sliding the buttons seemed to work, it was as if the metal had fused into one solid piece.

I picked looked around for something I might be able to use to pry the case open but with only two candles to see by and so much grime covering everything, I was coming up empty.

I put my candle down and moved the one that had been sitting on the trunk, then I tried lifting it. It was only about three feet wide and two high and deep, but it was evidently filled with books or something, as it weighed a ton.

Still, if I couldn't get in, what other choice did I have? I turned the case onto its end and picked it up by the side handle, now on top. I could just about lift it and managed too manoeuvre it over my shoulder, so my back held most of the weight and I stall had one hand free to carry a candle. Blowing the spare out, I made my way back to the stairs and hesitated as I looked down them. They were narrow and steep, dangerous even if I wasn't carrying a four stone box on my back.

I considered leaving the candle so that I could cling onto the wall at least, but there was no other light. Then the door at the bottom swung open with a creak and there was just enough ambient light that I could make out the staircase. I blew the candle out, leaving it up here, and carefully made my way down.

On the servants landing I saw that the sun wasn't up yet, but the sky was much lighter than when I first passed through here. I hoped no one else was awake to see me and wonder why I was pilfering things from the attic.

My right arm was not starting to protest carrying the case, which was digging painfully into my back, but I carefully made my way back down, even although I was tempted to rush.

On my floor, I dropped the case on the carpet and taking one end in my left hand, I dragged the damn thing back to my room.

"It better be the crown fucking jewels in here," I said, not knowing if Thomas was around to hear me or not.

I manoeuvred the case up onto the table, then stretched out my arms, trying to ease the ache in them.

I got various implements from the kitchen and tried to either open the clasps or pry the lid off but nothing worked. I was a little impressed with the Victorian craftsmanship, but mostly just pissed off that I couldn't get inside. I'd have to go into town and get a hammer and screwdriver and try to knock the catches off.

Or maybe just some WD40, that stuff seemed to perform miracles.

As I put the knives and other implements away, my mind drifted back to the spell book Thomas had left for me and I decided I'd have to attempt that ritual I had found, then Thomas could do his own heavy lifting.

Nothing in my life to date had prepared me for this but I had to try. I decided to use flour to drawer the symbols since I could sweep it up relatively easily, and I chose the kitchen floor, because it was tiled.

Contrary to Hollywood films, the symbol I drew wasn't a pentagram or pentacle but instead something called Hecate's circle, which most closely resembled a steering wheel.

I stood in the middle of the circle and began to chant softly, hoping not to drawer attention to myself in the other dimension. As well as the breadcrumbs, I'd seen glimpses of Thomas this morning, so I knew he was around. Did he have any clue what I was doing?

I pictured him in his dimension, breathtakingly beautiful, slightly dangerous and utterly compelling.

Suddenly my vision began to twist, as if I was viewing the world through a whirlpool, and I continued to chant softly. As the air around me cleared, I realised that I was back in his dimension, where the house appeared to be literally sick, weeping all kinds of nasty bodily fluids.

Thomas was right in front of me, looking pissed.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I'm here for you. Take my hand." I thrust my hand towards him.

"You aren't real here," he reminded me.

I didn't have time to explain that I was using a different method to cross over, so I simply reached out, grabbed his arm and yanked him towards me. The inertia knocked me off my feet and when I landed, Thomas fell on me, winding me for a few moments.

We were back in my dimension though, where everything looked normal.

After glancing around, Thomas leaned up on his arms and looked down at me, but is gaze appeared to get caught on my lip and I could swear I saw desire in his eyes.

"What have you done?" he asked.

"Freed you."

"That was dangerous," he told me, looking into my eyes. "You are playing with forces you cannot comprehend."

I don't know if this was his kinky idea of foreplay, but his deep voice was turning me on something rotten.

"Why do you think I brought you back?" I asked. "You're the closest thing that I have to an expert."

He licked his lips and I suddenly realised that we were still lying on the kitchen floor. I wriggled until he moved off me. Once he was on his feet, he held a hand out for me and after only the briefest hesitation, I took it and allowed him to help me up.

We stared at each other for a moment, then the lights began to flicker before going out. Luckily it was still early in the morning so it didn't have quite the same dramatic effect that it did at night time.

Thomas looked around, but at the air rather than at any objects.

"She knows I'm gone," he whispered. "She'll be furious. She can't do much until closer to Samhain but she will try." He looked down at me with concern in his eyes.

"Let her try, we'll fight back."

"So brave." A small smile played at the edge of his lips and suddenly, I was the one fixated on his mouth.

What would it feel like to be kissed by him, I wondered. His lips were thin but they appeared soft.

I looked into his eyes and saw a devilish gleam there.

"You should not have released me," he said, taking a step closer; stalking me.

I probably shouldn't have been turned on by his actions but he was so handsome and with that added predatory twinkle in his eyes, I was helpless to resist.