The Ghost of Ramble House

After Kate went to bed, Jack relaxed in the study, wondering how much longer they could remain in Travis Ramble’s House.  Once they got back to Fort Worth and under Vivian’s watchful eyes, it would be too late to deal with Kate.  Whatever he intended doing he must do quickly.  Timing was all important, and he had no immediate plan.  He was too tired to think.

He got up, turned off the lights and stepped into the hall.  A small light illuminated the foot of the staircase; the head of the stairs was in complete darkness.  He felt suddenly tense, sliding his hand along the banister as he stared up.  The window on the landing was unusually dark, as if the night sky had turned to ink.  He cringed when he heard an unfamiliar sound above him.  It was probably Kate, he thought, unable to sleep and on her way to the library to read.  He made his way to the landing expecting to meet Kate on her way down.  He called out to her but there was no response.  He stopped, shrinking back as a faint tinge of blue penetrated the smothering darkness above him.  He backed down a step, starting to tremble, his jaws locked open in a silent scream as the thing spread out to block his way.  A chill traveled up the back of his neck and he became paralyzed, watching helplessly as the apparition drifted toward him.  He was even more horrified when the swirling cloud began to take shape, forming obscure features that soon revealed the smiling face of Martin Ramble.  Moving backward, staring wildly at the horror floating after him, he stumbled to his knees.  The hideous thing surrounded him, stinging his eyes and burning down his throat.  He coughed, choking on the foul taste that filled his mouth.  Weakness suffused his muscles and he was unable to flee the hideous wraith that was closing around him like a cocoon, trying to asphyxiate him.  He flailed his arms helplessly, gasping for breath.  Suddenly he was hurled backward, as though caught in a wind tunnel, slammed viciously into each step as he tumbled to the bottom of the stairs.  He groaned in pain, shaken to his core, stars orbiting his throbbing head.  The thing loomed over him with red glittering eyes.  A noxious acid odor bit into his nostrils and he held his breath, pressing back against the floor, feeling the chill of marble pierce his shirt.  He began to shudder violently.

As he stared up at the thing in horror, it began to rise, sweeping back up the stairs like a receding tornado returning to its source.  At the head of the stairs it fanned out and slowly faded.  Jack sucked in a wheezing choking breath of bitter air, his eyes smarting.

Jack lay awake beside his sleeping wife staring into the darkness, trying to accept his fate realistically.  No more trying to change Kate’s mind, no more begging for a bone like a starving dog.  He was helplessly torn between what Coleen expected and what he had failed to accomplish.  He thought for one nightmarish moment that his headache was returning when the room was suddenly split down the center by a strange shaft of light.  But there was no pain.  He drew his palm across his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision.  He began to tremble as a dreadful chill crept through his body, the bone deep horror of reality.  Wide eyed he followed the slender slash of pale blue light, like sun shining through a narrow crack.  He watched in speechless horror as the spear of illumination began to widen, shimmering and waving like clouds dancing before the wind.

The hideous thing was crawling toward him like a giant spider, swirling and undulating, pulsing like a heart.  He opened his mouth to scream but the sounds that issued forth were only strangled gasps like an asthmatic fighting for breath.  It moved to the foot of the bed, hovering there like a demon from Purgatory.  He shrank back, grimacing, his blood running cold.  As he stared in horror the thing began to take human form.  A gaping black hole appeared in the twisting fog and began to shrink into the bizarre semblance of a face, a cruel mouth that was drawn back in an ugly snarl, eyes staring from deep, dark sockets, the irises red as blood.  He wanted to wake up and end the nightmare, shaking his head vigorously from side to side in an attempt to erase the vision, but he was not dreaming, the repulsive thing existed and was encroaching steadily into the realm of his sanity.

He groaned in panic as the vague features began to take on more distinguishable characteristics, gathering into the undeniable face of a man.  He gasped in shock, his throat clogged, and his mouth gone dry.  The filthy ghost of Martin Ramble was inside the room, and it was real.  Kate was under the horrifying spell of the supernatural, he was now certain, a power that was rapidly growing stronger, undermining her affection for him.  He wanted to run, put distance between himself and the hideous thing, but his body was plastered helplessly against the bed, only his eyes moved, feverishly following the eerie movements of the apparition.  It lingered for several minutes, dipping toward him in the same manner a mother bird swoops down on a cat to drive it away from her young.  Trembling and spe