Chapter 3: A Mysterious Message
The room hidden behind the fireplace wall was long and narrow, almost like a small hallway. The walls were brick and the floor was white tile, and though Alyssa had never seen it before she sensed that everything was quite old.
She still couldn't believe it. All the years she spent living and playing in this house, no one ever mentioned anything about secret passages. Judging by the aged look of everything it had probably been built the same time the rest of the house was. She could see every detail of the small space clearly due to the pair of old sconces hanging from the back wall, each holding a large candle that looked like it had been burning for quite some time.
So far as she could see, there was nothing of interest about or in the narrow space—except for the white statue standing at the far end. Alyssa recognized it at once as the statue of the patron saint of the Hamilton house. The beautiful white marble image had stood in the garden since she was a little girl.
It was strange to see the statue here, hidden away where no one would see it. Alyssa knew it couldn't be in here for storage, so why?
As she took a step closer her eye fell on something sparkling at the statue's feet. It looked like a bottle made from blue glass and was closed with a stopper, similar to the oil bottles used in churches. The bottle's surface glittered like the facets of a gemstone in the candlelight, but the sight didn't interest Alyssa as much as the object lying next to it—an envelope with her name on it, written in her mother's handwriting.
Alyssa snatched it up, sat down on the small platform the statue was resting on and tore the envelope open. Unlike most of her mother's letters, there was a handful of pages inside, and she quickly unfolded them and began to read.
'My dearest Alyssa', the first page began. 'If you are reading this, it means that I am gone and you have returned to the house. I have done everything in my power these past three years to keep this from happening, but recent events and discoveries have brought me to believe that this is inevitable. Perhaps it was foolish of me to even try to stop it. I should have spent this time preparing you for what's to come, but now I fear there is no time left to prepare you for what is about to happen. All I can do now is explain one of our family relics to you, though you probably will not understand what I'm about to tell you.
'This bottle is more than just a piece of glass: it is an heirloom that has been passed down in our family for generations. The bottle itself and what it contains have been nurtured and blessed over the years by its many owners, and because of that it holds more power than you can imagine. You might say the bottle contains holy water—but that is over simplifying things. The water is both powerful and blessed, but the bottle itself is a tool that will reshape itself to reflect its holder's needs.
'I wish I could tell you more, but there isn't time. Just trust me for now when I say that when you are in need, use the bottle against anyone who means you harm. Our enemies are unholy and monstrous—the water's touch will be unbearable to them.
'Another thing you must know of is the restless spirits that inhabit this world. Sometimes a person's death--particularly a person who has been killed by one of our enemies—is so horrible, their soul becomes trapped, and they wander the world of the living in despair. Their pain can often be soothed by something that was greatly important to them in life. Do whatever you can to calm the restless souls of this world, dearest Alyssa; these poor beings suffered enough in life at the hands of our enemies. They do not deserve to suffer endlessly in death.
'There is much more to tell, but there is no more time. My only hope now is that you will be strong enough to face the trials that await you. No matter what happens, remember that your mother loves you dearly.
'Your loving mother, Nancy.'
Alyssa set the letter down slowly as she blinked back tears. Her mother's words were strange and frightening, but what upset her the most was how the message sounded like a goodbye letter. And none of what she said made any sense; just what kind of enemies did the Hamilton family have? And she didn't really expect her to believe that the little glass bottle had powers...did she?
Sniffling, Alyssa reached down and picked up the small bottle. It didn't look like anything special, other than it was rather pretty and looked very well made. The facet-like surface of the blue glass shimmered as she turned it over in her hands, reflecting the candlelight like tiny mirrors. The bottle felt like it had a bit of weight to it, more than she would have expected, but at the same time it seemed to fit comfortably in her hand.
She didn't know if she quite believed there was anything special or magical about it, but Alyssa felt that it was, in a way, a gift from her mother, and decided to hold on to it for now. She could always ask her mother about it later, whenever she returned from...wherever she had gone.
After drying her eyes, Alyssa got to her feet. She took the small bottle and pushed its neck up under her belt, where its gentle weight settled against her hip. She also returned the letter to the envelope and tucked it into the inner pocket of her green jacket. It occurred to her that she might feel better if she changed out of her school uniform, but she didn't want to take the time to search for something else. Besides, she had been away for three years, so it was doubtful than anything hanging in her wardrobe would still fit her.
Getting on her hands and knees, Alyssa crawled back out of the hole in the fireplace. She briefly considered restacking the bricks to hide the hole, but in the end she decided not to bother; who was going to notice if no one was around? She had more important things to worry about right now.
Wiping her hands on her skirt, Alyssa started down the long hall to the left of the fireplace. At the end was another door with a brass plate attached to it; this one read 'Nancy'. Alyssa turned the knob, nudged the door open and went inside.
It only took a glance to see that her mother had gone somewhere in a hurry. The doors of her wardrobe stood open, and the handful of empty hangers hanging from the clothing bar were lopsided, as if the clothing they once held had been yanked off in a rush. A few hangers had been knocked to the floor of the wardrobe, along with a few articles of clothing.
Her mother had always been an uncommonly neat and tidy person, but the surface of her desk had papers and books left out on it, and a few of the drawers were partway open, as if someone had recently rummaged through everything in search of something. The computer sitting on the desktop was still on, but the monitor, like Alyssa's television, didn't show anything except a few wavy lines. Alyssa went over and lifted a picture that had been knocked over.
It was an old photo of her mother, her grandfather, and herself. They were playing together in the field behind their house, like they often had before she went away to school. She remembered the three of them going there for picnics when she was small, often for no reason at all except to be together. Sometimes she only went with her mother, and other times it was just her and and her grandfather. In many ways, her grandfather had been like a father to her. Alyssa missed him greatly sometimes, and the thought that he might never come home again made her heart ache.
Alyssa set the photo down sadly and went to sit on her mother's bed. She folded her hands in her lap as uncertainty came over her. "I know you told me not to come back, Mum," she said aloud, feeling the need to cut the silence. "But I couldn't help it. I've missed you so much, and I'm afraid that..."
She trailed off. She wasn't sure just what it was she was afraid of, but the worrisome feeling that something was very, very wrong wasn't going away. The feeling kept growing worse the longer she stayed in the house.
With a frustrated sigh, Alyssa leaned back on her palms. She sat up a second later with a puzzled frown; her hand had pressed down on something hard. Curious, she reached over and pulled back the blanket. Lying on top of the mattress was an old book.
It wasn't an unusual find, her mother often read books in bed, but what struck Alyssa as odd was the strange bookmark sticking out between the pages. Instead of a normal scrap of paper or cloth, the object protruding from the top of the book was the silver hilt of a letter opener Alyssa had often seen her mother use. Wondering why she had used this instead of getting up to find a normal bookmark, Alyssa picked the book up and set it on her lap. The pages flopped open to the spot the letter opener's blade was thrust in at.
Alyssa gasped and nearly dropped the book on the floor; drawn on the worn page was a picture of a man dressed in a black coat and an old hat. Though the image was little more than a rough sketch, it looked remarkably like the strange man from the dining room.
The young girl had barely recovered from the shock when something else happened, something that made her bolt up from the bed and send the book flying. The house, silent as a tomb since the moment she arrived, was suddenly filled with the sound of a piano.
"Who's playing that?" she cried out, heart pounding wildly.
But that was crazy; there wasn't a piano in the Hamilton house for anyone to play. Alyssa spun, eyes darting around until they found the small table next her mother's bed. Yes, her mother's CD player was still there; she hurried over and popped the lid. The CD sitting inside was motionless--the player wasn't even on. The music continued to play.
Alyssa backed away from the CD player as fear began to mount; music alone wasn't strange, but there was something bizarre about it. It couldn't be coming from her mother's room, yet the sound was all around her—to her left, to her right, above and behind her. The music came from everywhere and nowhere; even covering her ears didn't block out the ghostly sound.
The frightened girl jerked forward in surprise as she felt something hard bump her rear; she had backed into her mother's desk. The photograph she had just been looking at teetered and fell to the floor. The glass protecting the picture shattered. The piano continued to play at an almost frantic pace.
A light suddenly dawned in Alyssa's mind as she remembered; she wasn't alone in the house. Maybe Edward was making the music somehow—or at the very least, maybe he could hear it, too. At least then she would know she wasn't going crazy.
Alyssa darted around the desk, opened the bedroom door (though she didn't remember closing it) and ran down the hall. She vaguely noticed that it had gone dark awfully fast, whereas it had still been daylight a moment ago. Her feet seemed to slow down by themselves as she slowly became aware that the length of the hallway seemed to have increased by many feet during her brief time in her mother's room.
The music stopped abruptly. So did Alyssa. With her mouth slightly agape, she reached out to touch the wall, which now looked like damp brick instead of clean wallpaper. The air had turned cold and was filled with the smell of dust and smoke.
Alyssa was in shock. There was a cold wind blowing against her face, like she had stepped outside. And in front of her was a rusted metal gate that barred her way.
The young girl gave it a tentative shove, making it open with a noisy creak. With one hand against the cold brick for support, Alyssa leaned out and stared at the unbelievable sight that was before her.