Twelve | The Ancestor

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Bill didn't waste any time asking his daughter what had happened. The second he had seen the doll, he had left it on the table, and ran out the front door, leaving it open. Macy heard the sound of the car backing out of the driveway- a rumble of tyres on gravel.

Then there was silence. Macy stood there for a few seconds, watching the door sway in the wind, until she got sick of it, and walked up to it. She closed it, locking the air out as her golden hair gently fell back into place. There was no one home now, but her. Good. Tip toeing down the corridor, Macy approached the basement stairs. She stood there, watching it, awaiting what she knew would come.

 A pale hand appeared behind the tiny window. It seem to freeze for a second, before it's slim, bony fingers beckoned her in, as if it had spotted her. Macy obeyed, and hopped down the stairs, until her pink shoe thumped softly onto the last step. The door slowly creaked open, and darkness spilled out of the door. The hand reached out of the small crack, to hold hers. It seemed eager for her to enter. Macy took it, and it gently guided her into the darkness. The door closed behind them.

Macy wasn't scared. The first time her friend had taken her in, she had been a little afraid of the dark. But her friend had reassured her it was safe. It had comforted her, taught her there was no need to be scared. Macy's breathing seemed too loud in the pristine silence. She took a step forward, knowing her friend was somewhere in there with her. But suddenly, Macy sensed that something was wrong. "Hello?", she called out. Her voice was no more than a quavering whisper.

A loud scuttle sounded from somewhere on her left. Macy took a sharp intake of breath, stepping backward. This wasn't normal. This wasn't like the other times. She listened carefully, straining her ears against the dark. She heard it's raspy breathing, about a few feet away. Macy was becoming uneasy. Her friend wasn't talking to her. It groaned, like the sound of an old door being open too harshly from somewhere in the room, and Macy whimpered worriedly. Where was it?

Macy turned, seeing the white ray of dim light spilling into the room from the square window. Suddenly, she had an urge to run. To start sprinting. As if the creature had sensed her abrupt will to leave, it's dry lips parted, and it let out a small cry. Macy inhaled deeply. No- this was definitely wrong. It cried out to her again, but this time Macy heard a word among the noise. Hungry. She began taking more steps backwards, then turned, and broke into a sprint towards the door. As she did, the pitter-patter of bare feet behind her got louder as the creature chased after her. Macy's hands slammed against the wooden door, and her hand fumbled around above her for a handle that she knew was out of reach.

The breathing of the creature became louder, a rasp- just a few feet away. Macy saw it's gruesome, broken silhouette as she turned. It let out an inhuman screech, and Macy screamed as it descended upon her. 

The phone vibrated on the table, demanding to be answered. Danni sighed, and turned away from her laptop, answering the call.

"Hello? Detective Evans speaking."

"Danni? It's Bill."

"Bill?" Danni's brow furrowed in confusion. "Is everything okay?"

Bill didn't answer. "Listen, Evans. I need to speak with you. Alone."

"Aren't we alone now?"

"I... I don't think so." His answer sent goosebumps up Danni's arms.

"Why? Who's listening?", she inquired.

"Look, I can't tell you about it across the phone. Let's meet up."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Danni remembered what Bill had told her in the interrogation. That there was something evil in the town.

"Yes- I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about."

Danni hesitated. "Me?"

"I'll tell you everything later."

"Okay." Danni took out a piece of paper. "What time where you thinking?"

"Now." Danni slowly set down the paper.

"Now? Are you sure?"

"Meet me at the Café in the park as soon as you can. Please."

"Um, okay. Sure thing. I'll leave now", Danni said. "And Bill, are you certain-" The line went dead as Bill hung up, not bothering to say anything else. Danni sighed, and rubbed her forehead in frustration. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Reluctantly, she heaved herself out of her seat, and shrugged on a jacket before exiting the room.

Meanwhile, Bill's fingers rapped on the table in front of him. His eyes darted from left to right, and he could feel the sweat building up on his forehead. He wrung his sticky hands together in nervous anticipation, and bit his lip. He waited impatiently for the door to swing open. 

When it did, he exhaled a huge breath of relief. It was Detective Evans. She smiled nervously when she saw him. Her fingers fiddled with the hem along the side of her jeans as she walked over. The metal chair squealed across the cement as Danni pulled it out, and sat down. 

"So", she began. "What's wrong?" As Bill's face became troubled, Danni found it hard to convince herself that he was simply traumatized from his daughter's death. Something some sinister seemed to be lurking just beneath the surface. 

"Danni, there's something in this town. Something evil." Bill's voice was hushed and urgent. Danni was about to ask him what it was, when she realized how ridiculous this all was. Who was she kidding? 

"Bill, listen to-"

"No", he said. "You listen to me."

Danni sighed, and leaned back in her chair. She motioned for him to continue with a slight wave of her hand, before resting it on her lap. 

"My family has been in Goldwater for a long time, Danni. And I'm not just talking about me. I'm talking about my ancestors. Centuries ago, they were here. But... something happened all that time ago." He exhaled deeply before carrying on. "Have you heard of my grandfather? His name is Carl. Carl McVinch."

Danni pursed her lips, thinking. "No- I don't think I have."

"Well, he told me something. About my family. My grandfather's grandfather's grandfather. He was the man who killed Martha."

Danni frowned. "Martha?" 

"Yes, a girl. She was accused of witchcraft, and burnt at the stake. Her father was a doll maker. "What?" Danni gave him a look. "And you believed this? Despite the fact that this was- hell- two centuries ago?"

Bill gave her a stern look. "Yes." Danni suddenly felt that feeling in her stomach again. The one that tried to convince her that what Bill was saying was the truth. But Danni knew otherwise. 

"Bill. You know... you know this isn't good for you." Bill's glare was so intense Danni thought she might break under it. 

"I haven't told you everything yet. Danni, I- I think she's back."

"What do you mean?"

Bill swallowed. "Martha. I- I can feel her. She's here. Watching us."

Danni froze for a second. Was he kidding? She almost couldn't tell. She gave Bill a side ward glance. "Like... a ghost?" She raised her eyebrows when Bill shrugged. 

"I don't know. But-"

"Really, Bill? Really?!" Danni slammed her fists down onto the table, and pushed her chair back, standing up. It scraped noisily across the cement. "This is bullshit. What do you think you're going to achieve by blaming it on something that doesn't exist, huh? I-" She rubbed her forehead vigorously with the bottom of her palm. "I really don't know what games you're playing, Bill, but it won't help."

"No, you don't under-"

"Yes, I do actually! I do understand! It won't help you at all. It won't bring her back!."

Bill froze. "You- you think this is about her? About Emily?"

"What else?" Danni regained herself. What was she doing? The man was clearly traumatized. he needed help. "Look", she said. "I'm sorry. Just... I know." Danni took out a pen and paper, and scribbled something down. "She can- she can help."

Bill looked at the slip of paper she handed him. It was a number. He looked back up at Danni, unfazed.

"You're going to wish you had believed me."




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