A Haunting to your Health

“It’s the most haunted house in the country,” said Orla.

I could instantly feel a shudder of fear travelling through me. My body felt as cold as unbreakable ice shards. I didn’t want to go there. I was always afraid of the spiritual world. I tried my best to back out of it, but Orla wasn’t having it.

“Christa, you have to come. It’s for you. I can’t tell you the details, but you just have to be there.”

I didn’t know why she needed me there. If she wanted to put herself in harm’s way, why did I have to tag along? I couldn’t think of a get-out clause, so I ended up standing next to her on the night of our arrival, dread filling me as I stared at the solid oak door. It looked as sturdy as the entrance to a medieval castle. Once we entered, I knew it would be next to impossible to get out again, but I had no choice but to follow her. I felt compelled to do what she told me to. It was like there was a spell cast over me before I even walked through the door. The power of the atmosphere chilled me to my bones. The air felt like the iciest of handshakes.

Christa walked in like she owned the place. She didn’t look the least bit hesitant. Her bravery was much more impressive than mine. She’d made contact with the dead before. As a paranormal investigator, her intrigue overtook any fear she might have felt. I let her lead the way. It was already dark – a storybook Winter afternoon. It was one of those days where the sun only makes a brief appearance before setting again. It was fear-inspiring, and the house didn’t have any artificial lighting to counteract it. We had an ample supple of candles, but they didn’t illuminate every corner in the way I hoped they would. It felt like areas of the house were enshrouded in darkness to the point that we couldn’t know what was lurking there.

The two of us were like two dust mites carried by a strong breeze. We didn’t have any way of protecting ourselves from whatever might come. I knew something terrible was going to happen. I didn’t know what would befall us, but I sensed it would be destructive in an irreversible way.

Christa smiled at me, “Would you lighten up?” she teased. “You look as tense as I do when I’m at the gym.”

“I must be bad,” I joked back, but I could feel my body trembling.

I was shivering without restraint, my teeth practically chattering together. I felt like a clichéd horror character. It was only a matter of moments until something happened to me. I’d probably be the supporting friend that got killed off in the first act. I was discovering my own timidity and it was disappointing to acknowledge it.

Christa opened a set of double doors and we walked into what looked like a ballroom. Cluedo was all I could think of. The setting was exactly like that. I just hoped I wouldn’t be bludgeoned with a candlestick in the coming minutes.

“Relax,” Christa said, with exasperation. “Just try and enjoy yourself.”

I wondered what there was to enjoy. I couldn’t see past my own fear to consider feeling any other sensations. The windows were covered in thick drapes made of burgundy velvet. They blocked out the outdoors like theatre curtains. It made you wonder what scene could be set up behind them. A whole world could have existed there – a world that usually only featured in nightmares. The furniture was a deep mahogany with embroidered cushions and detail upon detailed detail. It was regal, but not in a way that drew envy from me. I wished I was happily seated in my modern-day flat, small though it was, sipping kettle-boiled water in the spotlight-lit kitchen. I would have exchanged the atmospheric tension for bland peace any day of the week.

The walls were covered in dusky rose wallpaper. They were so faded that I didn’t imagine they ever could have livened up the room. I knew the place we were in was vast. One room could have housed my entire flat and there were a multitude of others. I didn’t know what the plan for the evening ahead was, and I still couldn’t read Christa’s mind. I’d never been able to do that. It didn’t matter how long we’d known each other for. She was an enigma. It was characteristic of her: the fact we were there at all. I perched on the edge of a fabric covered seat. It brought a whole new meaning to the word “discomfort.” I looked at all the knickknacks that were peppered throughout the room. The vases looked like urns. They had the typical period print on them and the gold rims. They weren’t pretty, even though they tried to be. There wasn’t an object there that I didn’t associate with the deceased.

There was a grand piano sitting to the side of the room. The sheet music was propped up on the stand and it rustled in the draught. I could imagine a ghostly figure seated there, playing classical staples, their fingertips barely glazing the keys. I could hear the mournful melody without it being played. Maybe that was what it meant for a place to be truly haunted: your mind started to play tricks on you, and you couldn’t pinpoint what was at the root of it all; if it was you or the house.

The door creaked like a coffin lid opening; one that had been shut long ago, one that had been presumed sealed forever. I felt the hairs on my skin standing as straight as sewing needles. The door made an ugly groan, and everyone flooded in; all my best friends were standing in the doorway, smiling.

“We thought you’d like a touch of luxury for your big night,” a familiar voice said. It somehow sounded foreign in that strange room. “Congrats on the new job.”

Christa blew the dust off the wine glasses in her hand and poured the blood-like fluid into each one. She distributed them, one by one, so we could all sing “cheers;” so we could all relax and have a merry evening.