Threads of Time

Footsteps echo on the wooden floorboards outside the parlour. I raise my head languidly towards the direction of sound but pay it little concern. It's probably Annabelle rushing about preparing the corridor for our coming guests tonight. Damn girl should've had my equipment ready this morning. I have half a mind to leave the heat of the fire and scold her, but reason against it. By supper I'm expected to make a decision regarding my work but, despite all my efforts, time is not on my side.

For months I devoted my energy to unlocking the secrets of the veil, trying to draw those phantom beings from the ethereal plane into our mortal world. It worked once. Almost three weeks past if memory serves well. There I was tinkering with the plasma rod, attempting to shift it parallel to the rotors. Suddenly the machine became animated unprovoked and a blinding flash brought me to my knees. When I recovered from this onslaught of energy, there standing in the centre of the room, bewildered and dressed like an angel, was my beloved Annie. I leaped with joy at the sudden appearance of my long since dead daughter. The Fate's seemed to favour me that day.

But not anymore.

I have not been able to replicate this process since and being expected to give a presentation of my work tonight hasn't settled my nerves. I know that I will be expected to show Annie to those monstrous investors as proof. But what then? They'll take her away from me, I know it. She will become a lab rat, tested and pulled apart. Unless I manage to get my machine functioning, that is.

With no other option available to me, I rise from the fire and emerge into the hallway. There with wires bundled in her hands is Annabelle. My Annie. "Father, I know I should have had this finished this morning but, well, your notes are difficult to read."

"Never mind about that now. I want you to make sure the kitchen is in order for tonight. I'll prepare the machine." Hopefully try to replicate the successful procedure as well. I take up the tools as trepidation holds my heart firm and set to work.

***

The guests circle around the raised platform, scrutinising every movement I make with piercing eyes. Now is the moment of truth. I breath deeply and begin my address to the crowd; "Death has been an inextricable part of life since the natural order begun. But now, in this very hall, I will prove to you that the after life is nothing more than another land just waiting to be discovered! Prepare your eyes as I achieve the unthinkable..."

I move towards the lever behind the platform, dabbing my forehead with a handkerchief as I do so and pray to Heaven that the machine performs. All eyes burn into my soul but the thought of Annie's safety keeps me alight. With shaking hands I pull on the lever and the room erupts in a brilliant flash of electricity. So far, so good. Now comes the defining moment. Power builds in the hallway, concentrating itself in the centre of the machine. I move my arm upwards to shield my eyes from the glaring light emanating from the energy. This is it. It's working! My work will forever change the natural order and I have saved Annie in the process!"

Along the edge of the crowd I notice Annie move forward with desperation in her eyes. Is there something wrong? I open my mouth to question her but she runs straight past and jumps into the wall of energy from the machine. It caves inward causing jets of plasma waves to burst outward as it does so. An arm of energy hits my chest and I'm thrown backward before I have time to process the situation. I slam into the floor with Annie's name on my lips. But as my vision fades, I know that I have lost her again.

___________________________________________

"Come on Eve!" I motion for my friend to follow as I climb through the broken window. Inside the room is dark despite the autumn light casting an orange glow on the swollen floorboards in front of me. The air hangs oppressively around me and I shiver. Places like this are designed to be bulldozed but I'm glad they're not; they're special somehow. I reach into my pocket bringing out my phone and I enable the torch function. Immediately the room alights in a brilliance of blue light, revealing the space to be an old kitchen. Glass crunches underfoot as I move further into the room for better inspection. Cabinets hang off rusted hinges and empty shelves line crumbling walls. Judging by their design it looks as though this house hasn't been occupied since the 1920's.

A crash sounds from behind. I spin around quickly, shining the torch onto the ground and find Eve is heaped in an awkward pile under the window.

"Ugh, why do we have to come here?" She moans in pain as she rises, picking shards of glass out of her hair with disgust. "Can we not for once, oh I don't know, explore a concert or even a house party like normal people?"

"Who says we're normal people?"

She rolls her eyes in response. "Besides," I continue on. "There's much more intrigue into why a house was abandoned in the first place. Like the history of this place. I did a quick Google search before we came and it turns out someone died here over a hundred years ago. The death was a mystery and nobody was able to uncover the truth of who died or even how. It's known that the family brought in a medium and tried several séances to communicate. Nothing came from them but a decade later there were reports of paranormal activity around the house. When the remaining family died, the house was left to rot. It's quite sad actually."

"Great. So we just decided to hop into not just an abandoned house - but a haunted one too and explore it. This is just perfect Anne."

"Exactly what I was thinking! Come on, lets see rest of the house."

We leave the kitchen and enter the main hallway. Old portraits hang lopsided on the wall with mildew seeping into the canvas. It distorts the faces giving devilish features to once serene people. "Creepy." Eve mutters over my shoulders. To her this has always been a game; the goal being which one of us can stay the longest and explore (it was always me). But I think differently of these houses. There's something intimate and alluring about old spaces. Like if you stay long enough, it's secrets will be revealed as a reward. It never happens but one day it will. I can feel it in my bones.

"I think we should split up, see what we can find separately."

"What? Are you crazy!" Eve looks at me incredulously, looking for signs of a joke on my face. Seeing none she continues to caution against it. "Anne. This isn't some Mystery Incorporated shit, what if there's some weirdo lurking around upstairs waiting for us? Then what?"

"Then you use your Jiu Jitsu on them. Look I know how you feel but I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't think we were capable of handling exploring alone. I'll take the parlour and since you're so fond of it, you take upstairs. Meet back at the kitchen in twenty minutes."

We separate and I head towards the parlour door. It wails in protest as I push it open, the bolts just about ready to snap from years of neglect. The room is smaller than the kitchen and darker with dusty curtains covering the windows. Holes in the fabric allow orange rays of light to spill into the room. They reveal, with the help of my torch, an oak desk piled high with brown dust and a dismal fabric chair beside it. I move over to it as though magnetised by the filth, hoping by removing it treasure will be found.

A frame sits in the centre of the table and I pick it up, a smile playing on my lips in amusement. I wonder when someone looked at this for the last time did they know it would stay as it was, untouched, for decades. The layer of dust dissipates under my breath and I stare in shock at image revealed. Even though its yellow with age, the person staring back is clear; I'm draped in a frilly 20th century dress staring out from the frame. The room falls away and I become lost in a storm of confusion.

Somewhere outside my mind I can here footsteps shuffling down the stairs - it must be Eve making her way into the kitchen. Have twenty minutes passed already?

"Anne! Anne!" Eve calls out in the room opposite. I ignore her. Something about this room enticed me in. It drew me forward into the mystery. The woman in the cabinet looks exactly like me, right down to the freckle on the side of the nose. Could this be real or just some sort of sick coincidence? I wish it were the latter but how many people would have the same freckle formation in the exact place as you? Not many is the answer. Unless of course they share the same genetic make up as you, but that's unlikely.

"Anne!" Her words are fainter now, as though I'm submerged in water listening to someone call me from above. I feel like I'm about to pass out; the walls seem to be closing in on me and I can hear a screaming in my ears. The floor swells and I pitch forward in a desperate attempt to keep balance. I hold myself in that position for several moments, allowing the waves of nausea to pass over. Looking up I can hardly recognise where I am. It's the same room but...everything's cleaner and brighter. The dark curtains have disappeared, replaced with a lace fabric and the wallpaper is fresh on the wall. Even the air is fresher somehow. I turn around surveying the new room and find that its cleanliness isn't the only thing that has changed; the table has been replaced with a mesh of wires and kneeling with their hands to their eyes is a middle aged man, dressed in an Edwardian suit.

After several moments, the strange man regains his composure. Taking a probing look at me, his eyes grow wide with recognition and he leaps from the floor, repeating my name - "Annabelle!" "My sweet, dearest Annabelle!" Before I have time to process those words, I'm dragged into his arms and held there - bewildered and confused. Where did he come from and how the hell does he know my name? Ideas swirl around my head but I'm too dazed to think. Instead I listen to the raving man mutter my name in my ear.

****

Weeks pass as I come to realise the situation I landed in. Time seemed to reverse around me that day and I landed over a hundred years in the past. The man - Mr. Holloway - claims I am his daughter re-emerged from the grave and somehow he managed to pull me from my own time into his. Nothing about this makes any sense but all I know is I need to get back home. This need has given me a lift of productivity, narrowly pulling me away from the pits of despair over the weeks.

Over my time in this house, I learned that Mr. Holloway is commissioned by investors to operate his machine which pulled me out time. I have tried my best to help fix it with him so that I might return home. So far it hasn't worked but the presentation I organised for the investors might motivate him to get the machine operational. Or so I hope.

The day comes and I wait with baited breath for eight o'clock to arrive, spending most of my time making sure the guests are provided for. Then just as I think my nerves cannot take anymore waiting, Mr. Holloway - or my father, I should call him - makes his way up to the podium were guests mill about beside the machine. His address is short and to the point, which suits me just fine. He pulls the lever down and the room erupts is a flurry of light.

This is my chance.

Without looking back I run straight into the energy field and immediately I regret it. My body feels as though it's being ripped apart in different angles. As I take a breath, every part of me from my mind to body dips and curves like a wave. Sounds blast through my ears of times gone by; children crying, couples laughing, people singing. I scream in agony at the pain I'm subjected to. This is so much worse than before. A flashing light attacks my eyes with the noise and increases in intensity in an ear-splitting shriek. It reaches a crescendo and I think I'm about to dies when I hit something hard, crushing the remaining air from my lungs.

I'm back in the ruined skeleton of the parlour. My heart jumps in delight and I rush from the room, down the corridor and into the kitchen. Standing there with a scowl so deadly it could kill is Eve. I don't even care at this point, I'm just so happy to see her. Through a piercing glare she snaps; "How long does it take you to explore one room?" I break into a wide smile, give a shaky laugh and say; "Apparently over one hundred years and twenty minutes." Before she can probe any further I throw my arms around her in an embrace. Relief overwhelms my entire being and I sob into her shoulder. "Let's get out of here and go to a concert or something. I'm done with houses." I say through tears.

We leave the abandoned house of Mr. Holloway back the same way we came from, the sun still burning low in the sky. Walking down the driveway I never look back; my intrinsic need to explore the mysteries of abandoned houses satisfied for once.