Leave the Haunted Books Alone

There is mention of a dead body in this story, as well as one of the characters slicing her palm with a letter opener. Reader's discretion is advised.

Lauryn watches her older sister as she scrambles around the living room, preparing for a long night of junk food and horror movies.  She’s a blur of black and pink, her bonnet flapping in the breeze as she zooms by.  It’s almost cringey to see her so excited to watch B-rated movies they’ve already seen way too many times.  Kris turns off the lights and uses her phone to guide her back to the couch.  She plops down next to Lauryn, clicking her phone off and the t.v. on.  “Let's get this show on the road.” 

Lauryn taps a rhythm on her phone case.  “We do this every Halloween.  Don’t you wanna do something else?”  She waggles her eyebrows and wiggles her fingers.

Kris’s eyes narrow.  “Nuh-uh.  Whatever you have planned, leave me out of it.”  She opens a bag of off-brand hot cheetos and grabs the remote, turning away and clicking through the channels.  

Lauryn waits with saint-like patience as she watches her sister’s face.  Kris gives her some bombastic side-eye and then pops another cheeto into her mouth, but she can see the cogwheels turning in her noggin.  She rocks her head back and forth and after five minutes, she lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Fiiiine.  What’s your plan?”  She grabs a paper towel and wipes the red dust off her fingers, then drains a water bottle.

Lauryn leans over the back of the chair and groans as she swings her heavy bag up and over.  Kris chokes, while she raises her hands to block being knocked unconscious and grabs the bag plopping it onto the cushions between them.   

Kris makes a face.  “One, you almost hit me. Two, you’re gonna throw out ya back doing that.”  

Lauryn places a finger on her sister’s lips. “Shhh, you sound like mom.”  She opens the bag and takes out a large, weathered tome with an intricate metal lock with no apparent key, a letter opener that looks like a sword with a filigreed hilt, a bowl, a pack of candles, matches, and a small pack of sidewalk chalk.  

Kris’s eyes are as wide as saucers.  “What the hell you plan on doing with this stuff?

Lauryn picks up the tome, ignoring the chills that creep over her skin at the mere touch of it.  “Nepo.”  The book snaps open, revealing spells and symbols in messy scrawl.  “Ms. Lampley had a yard sale the other day and I found this little gem there.  She said she got plenty of use out of it and taught me some stuff,” she brandishes the tiny sword, “and she gave me this letter opener as a souvenir.”  

“Bro, what?”  Kris shakes her head.  “You need to take that crap back or burn it or something.”  Kris hops off the chair and runs into the kitchen area.  

Lauryn rolls her eyes and places the stuff on the coffee table, following on her sister’s heels.  “Bro, come on.  If it was haunted or possessed or whatever, it would’ve been worn off by now.  Ms. Lampley said that it’s been in storage for years, so we’re good.”

Kris puts the island between them, dancing away when Lauryn gets too close. “Did it ever occur to you that Ms. Lampley’s an actual witch?”

“Bro, that’s rude.  She’s just a sweet old lady.”  Lauryn launches herself over the countertop and the sisters crash into a heap.  “Anyway, you didn’t even finish listening to my plan.”

Kris groans and crawls away on her hands and knees.  “I’d rather eat cottage cheese.”

Lauryn pouts.  “Well, lucky for you, we don’t have any.”  A large slap makes both of them jump.  Lauryn pulls herself up by the countertop and freezes.  The totally not possessed book is now on the island even though she left it on the coffee table.

Kris’s eyebrows nearly hop off her face.  “Hell nah.”  She bolts down the hall into her room and slams the door closed.  

Lauryn stares at the book, sitting wide open to a blank page.  She moves to pick it up, but the pages start to flip until it gets to an almost blank page.  In bold crimson, the words “Flesh and blood, I require.  Thy debt will be paid.” with her signature “Lauryn Cheyenne Dupré” at the bottom.  Chills race over her skin as she grabs a rag and scrubs at her name.  This can’t be happening.  “Esolc.”  The tome remains open.  “Esolc!”  Lauryn pulls at the book, trying to close it.  After a few minutes, she throws her hands up in the air and runs to Kris’s room.  “Kris!  Open the door!”  She jiggles the knob.  “Kris, open the damn door!”

“Leave me outta of that mess you got going on in there!”  Kris’s voice is muffled by the door. 

Lauryn continues to bang on the door.  “You were right!  There’s something wrong with the book.  I’m taking all that crap back to Ms. Lampley.”  She stops banging and sinks to her knees then onto her butt, leaning her head against the door.  Lauryn wraps her arms around her legs, staring at the book from down the hall.  The pages flip back and forth, almost like it’s taunting her.  

The doorknob jingles, then Lauryn falls into Kris’s room when the door swings open.  Her bonnet’s gone and she’s now wearing trainers, jeans, and a black t-shirt.  She sticks her hand out for Lauryn to take.  “Next Halloween, we’re doing what I wanna do.”  

~~~~~~~

Lauryn and Kris ride in silence as they cruise through town.  Lofi hip hop plays on the radio, in vain, of trying to calm Lauryn’s nerves.  The trick-or treaters still wander around Main Street, no doubt enjoying their night.  Lauryn leans her head against the window.  Must be nice.  Kris comes to a stop at a red light, drumming a rhythm on the steering week.  “So, what were you saying about Ms. Lampley teaching you some stuff?  

Lauryn glances behind her and sinks into the seat.  “She didn’t teach me that much.  Just how to open and close the book, some spells need blood or whatever, and–”

The light turns green and Kris steps on the gas.  “Wait wait wait, what was that part about the blood?”

Lauryn rubs the back of her neck.  “Yeah, she wouldn’t shut up about that part.  She got excited and was hopping up and down, waving her arms, and then she went all rigid and walked back into her house.”  She shakes her head.  “I should’ve been listening better.”

“Lauryn!  You have to pay attention to that kinda stuff.  That was your sign to leave the book and whatever else there and vamoose.  Not bringing it home and scaring the hell outta me.”  Kris speeds up as they leave town.  After a few minutes, the radio becomes staticky as they drive further into the country.   Trees line the road, obscuring the sky, as if they are the only two people in the world.  A cracked asphalt road leads into another path and Kris turns on to it.  The trees seem to bend slightly towards them as they jostle about.  After a particularly bad pothole, Kris kisses her teeth.  “Daaamn.  Imma sue this lady if my Samba’s messed up.”

Lauryn sits up in her seat as Lampley Manor comes into view, trepidation fluttering in her stomach like a million and one butterflies as she gazes at the large manor.  She steps from the bus, and approaches the rusted wrought iron gate that blocks the rest of the way up the drive.  She pushes on the gate, but it doesn’t budge.  What the hell?  She grabs two of the bars and shakes hard, but they just rattle.  Lauryn turns around, throwing her hands up.  “It won’t open!”

“Is there a chain on it?”  Kris walks over to the gate, her eyes wide.  She walks around her sister and shakes the gate herself.  

Lauryn cocks her head to the side, pursing her lips.  “I tried to do that, but like I said before.  It. Won’t. Open.”  She walks back towards the gate.  “Ms. Lampley!  It’s Lauryn, I need to talk to you!”  

Kris walks back to the van and climbs in, slamming the door.  She then takes the opportunity to repeatedly honk the horn at lightspeed.  

Lauryn’s phone vibrates in her pocket and she pulls it out.  It’s a text from an unknown number:  {Esolc}.  She inhales, then exhales.  “Esolc.”  Despite the rustiness on the gate, it swings open without a sound.  Beyond the gate, the path seems to get darker, but the bus illuminates yellowed grass and broken grey lumps sticking up at different angles.  Lauryn runs back and hops into the van.

Kris shivers.  “Let’s get this over with.”  She puts the car in drive and slowly eases up until they pull up to the stairs in the roundabout driveway.  The manor is falling apart at the seams.  Vines grow up the side of the brick, almost all of the windows are broken and part of the roof is collapsed.  Dirt and grime covers any surface not covered in vegetation.  Lauryn eyeballs the front door and the incredibly creepy way it swings open.  Lauryn holds out her hand and Kris takes it and squeezes, sharing a brief moment of comfort, then both sisters climb out.  Lauryn grabs the bag and closes the door.   She glances up.  Grey clouds swirl around above the house, while a nipping breeze carries the scent of damp earth and the sickly sweet scent of rot.  Moonlight filters through the spaces in the clouds, illuminating patches of the ground.

Lauryn leads the way into the house, almost wiping out on the faded, moth eaten rug as she steps into the foyer.  Kris’s hand shoots out and steadies her.  “Thanks.”

Kris nods. “Don’t mention it.”

Two rooms lead to the left and right, while a staircase leads upstairs.  “Ms. Lampley?  It’s Lauryn and Kristina Dupré.”  Rustling comes from the left room.  Both girls creep into what seems to be the living room.  Long curtains cover the broken windows and every piece of furniture is covered by white sheets, save for one chair positioned right in front of the fireplace.  Somebody sits in the chair, unmoving.  White worms riggle beneath the chair.  “Kris…?”  Lauryn glances at her sister, who looks a little bit pale and three seconds away from running back to the van.  “Ms. Lampley.”  Lauryn steps around to the front of the chair, then jumps backwards.  Ms. Lampley is dead and from the looks of it for a little while.  “I saw her yesterday.” 

“Lauryn, look.”  Kris points with a shaky hand towards the ground.  “There’s a note.”

Lauryn follows with her gaze.  Sure enough, there’s a piece of paper in her fist.  She shudders as she picks up the cold woman’s hand and tries to force her fingers open enough to get the note.  “Kris, I need your help.”

Kris stares at her and then at the corpse and then back at her.  Her voice is barely above a whisper.  “I’d rather eat cottage cheese.”

Lauryn wheezes out a laugh, sounding like a squeaky toy.  “Come on.”  As a team, they manage to get most of the note.  It reads:  Complete the ritual.  The book knows which one.  

“That’s some cryptic bull, if I’ve ever seen it.”  Kris backs away, scrubbing her hands on her jeans.

Lauryn drops the bag on the ground, taking out all of the stuff and setting it on the ground, then she picks up the tome.  “Nepo.”  The book flips open to a spell, unlike the others.  It’s an invocation for something called “The Reaper.”  Violent chills overtake her after she says the name and she drops the book.

“Lauryn, what the hell was that?”  Kris grabs her arm.  “You alright?”

“Ye-yeah, I’m fi-fine.” Lauryn rings her hands, then picks up tome.  “It says we have to use the chalk to draw these symbols and inscriptions and make a ring of candles, lighting all of them counterclockwise.”

Kris stares at her for a heartbeat.  “Sure, yeah.  Let’s do this crap, so we can get the hell out.”  

Lauryn begins to draw, while Kris moves in her shadow and places all of the candles.  “Then, it says that blood needs to flow into a bowl and –”

“Not this blood crap again…”

“That’s what it says.”  Lauryn tries to keep the chills at bay, but her hands betray her.

“Nah, we’re leaving.”  Kris grabs her hand and they take off towards the door.  Before they get there, all of the doors seem to shut in unison, echoing throughout the entire house.  Kris runs to the nearest curtains and yanks them down, then she begins to convulse.

“Kris!”  Lauryn dives towards her, tears streaming down her face as she tries to keep her from swallowing her tongue.  She turns her head back towards Ms. Lampley’s body.  “Alright, alright!  I’ll do the damn ritual!  Leave her out of it.”  Kris’s body immediately relaxes, but she doesn’t move.  Lauryn holds a finger under her nose.  Thank God, she’s breathing.  She stands and moves to light the candles.  After a few minutes, all of the candles are lit.  Lauryn returns to the circle, a lump in her throat at the chalk line handiwork and inscriptions.  She takes out the letter opener and the bowl.  She bites down on her lip as she pulls the small blade across her palm.  The sharp sting of the blade leaves her breathless and more than a little nauseous as her blood seeps into the bowl.  “Flesh and Blood, The Reaper, requires.  I, Lauryn Cheyenne Dupré, am repaying my debt.”  Nothing happens for what feels like an eternity.  Lauryn stares around the dilapidated room, waiting for something to happen.  A sound like grating metal echoes throughout the entire house, shaking the very foundation.  Cold sweat trails down her spine as a long black creature with an eyeless face and a wide, toothy grin crawls from the fireplace towards her.  As it moves the room grows darker and colder.  Lauryn tries to move, but her legs refuse to obey.  Tears stream down her face as her chest gets tighter. Lauryn gasps for air as it reaches for her, digging its claws into her shoulders as it laughs again, blowing its rotten breath over her face.  “I accept your life as payment.”