Deadwood

The woods around the house were unusually still, as if holding its breath for something. Involuntarily I shuddered as I stepped into the clearing, the run down house seeming even more foreboding than the last time I was there. I placed my feet gingerly on the boards of the porch, and like before, the front door swung open at my touch.

But unlike last time, the door closed quietly behind me, plunging me into darkness. I bit back a scream, fumbling around for the small flashlight I had thrown in my pocket just in case. The light barely penetrated the gloom, but it was definitely better than being blind. I moved forward cautiously, moving the light this way and that, the hairs on the back of my neck standing straight up. Something was going to happen; I could feel it.

And while I was contemplating that, a hand reached out from a room I had failed to look into on my journey to the staircase. Lucky for me I saw it before it actually grabbed a hold of me. I jumped forward, whirling as I did so, hoping I hadn’t made too much noise. “Alyss,” A voice whispered urgently. “It’s okay, it’s just me.”

Normally I would have felt relieved to hear that voice; instead, I backed up further. “What are you doing here?” I hissed, immediately suspicious. “You’re supposed to be in the clearing.”

Oliver inched out of the room he had been in, looking around nervously. “I knew you’d end up coming here,” He said, still whispering. “I couldn’t let you do it alone!”

But I was shaking my head, still moving away from him. “Oliver, stay away from me.” I instructed calmly. “I know who you are.”

The confused look on his face would have made me stop, except my survival instincts kicked in. He reached out for me, and that’s when I turned and bounded off like a scared rabbit. I just had to get to Alice Quinn’s old room; I’d be okay that.

I heard him shout from behind me, and I didn’t need to turn around to know that he was giving chase. So be it; I was fast. The stairs loomed before me and without pause I vaulted up them, trying to watch my step without slowing my speed. Halfway up I heard a cracking sound and knew Oliver had reached the stairs as well. Except this time he wasn’t going to just stay at the bottom; he was on a mission.

I nearly flew into the hallway, almost losing my balance and tipping forward. I caught myself at the last second, legs still going for all that they were worth. Alice Quinn’s bedroom door was slightly open, and I burst through, skidding to a halt and looking around in wonder.

Though the room was in much the same condition it had been on my first visit, it was now awash with the glow from several candles. But now it was the figure sitting on the edge of the bed that had my attention. He was still mostly shadow, but he had a solidness to him as well. And he was no longer trapped in the confines of the mirror. “Thomas?” I breathed out, as he turned to me with a smile.

At that moment Oliver also burst in, his breathing ragged and his face red. Thomas’ smile was replaced with outrage. “What are you doing here, cretin?” He hissed, standing from the bed.

Oliver only glared at him, and instead turned to me. “Why did you run?” He panted. “I have something I wanted to tell you. I think it’s pretty important - and it’s not safe here!”

“Don’t listen to him, Alice.” Thomas said, turning pleading eyes on me. “There is nowhere safer for you, than here, with me. You know that, love.”

He was so mesmerizing. I smiled faintly, without meaning to, and felt my arm begin to move towards him. “NO!’ Oliver shouted. “Alyss, the little bag I gave you - please tell me you brought it!”

I nodded, a frown on my face. I felt so…strange. “Yes, of course. I put it here, in my pocket.” My voice sounded so dreamy and far away. “Whatever do you need it for?”

“I need you to open it,” He said, a little calmer. “There are things that I should have told you sooner, but I was too scared by what it all meant. Before you do anything else, please, just open the present.”

“What trickery is this?” Thomas sneered. “I wouldn’t, Alice. Here, just hand it to me. I can get rid of it for you.”

By now I had pulled the bag out of my pocket and was staring at it intently. What could be inside that was so important? I reached numb fingers out undid the little square of tape holding the flap closed. Thomas was glaring at Oliver, who was watching me with wide, hopeful eyes.

Things took a strange turn when I tipped the bag and the thing inside fell into my hand. For a moment my mind couldn’t comprehend - this didn’t make any sense, everything was backwards. But then I looked up slowly into the waiting eyes of Oliver. No, it did make sense; I had just been too wrapped up in everything else to notice.

I turned to Thomas, Oliver’s present to clutched in my hand. “You lied to me.” My voice was low and rough.

Thomas’ eyes narrowed and he looked anything but handsome now. He didn’t say anything, so I continued. “But I guess I should have expected it from a loathsome cockroach like you,” And then I said his name, his true name. Because now I knew it, with the pearl necklace clutched in my hand. “Edmund.”

He howled with rage. “You ungrateful little beast! I came back for you! Not him, me!” Edmund seethed. “It was because of you I died so young. “

I stared, taken aback by his outburst. “What do you mean? You died of a heart attack a week after you killed me.” Then I glanced over at Oliver, for the first time since putting everything together. “Us.”

“I didn’t die of a heart attack.” He said darkly. “It seems your father was a light sleeper and had grown suspicious of you sneaking out. Isn’t it ironic, then, that he happened to decide to go to the cottage before I could flee the scene of the crime? Oh, I did try to run when I saw him; but he was fast. And unbearably mad. Men do horrid things when they’re overcome with rage.”

Ignoring the nasty smile he cast my way, I asked, “But then, if you didn’t die of a heart attack, then how did you die?”

“Your father believed strongly in taking the law into one’s own hand. When he finally caught up to me, he beat me within an inch of my life. I think he would have stopped, had I not spat insults about you at him. And so he pulled me up, grabbed me by the hair, and bashed my head against a very large tree nearby until there was nothing but pulp left.”

Goosebumps had developed all over my body. Things were making a lot more sense. Alice’s father had been very influential; he had probably paid off the right people. That probably included the newspaper, who wrote an article about a heart attack that would spread rumors about mine and Thomas’ ghost come back to haunt Edmund. A little more justice served.

“You wouldn’t have me then,” Edmund was saying. “But I will have you now - and forever.”

He rushed at me, almost too fast for me to see. But Oliver had anticipated a move like that, and hurled himself on top of me, knocking both of us off to the side and to the floor. Edmund flew past, hitting a wall; apparently he was more solid than he looked. “The mirror!” Oliver whispered in my ear, scrambling off and lunging for it.

Edmund could have stopped Oliver, but his attention was focused on me. “Revenge is sweet, isn’t it?” He murmured.

“You bet it is, asshole.” Oliver interrupted, pushing the large mirror onto Edmund.