Read Online Darkhouse (Experiment in Terror #1) by Karina Halle - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karina Halle
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long time and though I’ve heard weird stuff about the lighthouse, this was the first time anyone mentioned it being haunted, let alone attracting attention from the paranormal community.
I cleared my throat. “Hey, Mom, Dad…”
“Yes, pumpkin,” said my mother.
I hesitated, trying to figure out the best way to pose my question.
“Um, I heard from the twins that they keep being contacted by like the Discovery Channel and stuff like that. Something about the lighthouse being haunted.”
My parents exchanged strange glances. My dad shrugged as casually as he could muster and eyed me in the mirror.
“That’s all nonsense, Perry. There are no such things as ghosts.”
“I’m not saying there are ghosts, Dad, I’m just saying it seems a lot of people think there are. In Uncle Al’s lighthouse. Kinda weird, right? Did you know about that?”
I watched my parents carefully. Ada did too, now that she was awake. They exchanged another glance and I could detect a barely perceptible nod from my mother.
“No, sweetie, sorry I don’t know what the twins have been telling you,” he finally said. “Probably pulling your leg. You know how they are. Always trying to scare you.”
“Ah,” I said and sank deeper into my seat. I looked over at Ada. She looked like hell, but I could see she didn’t believe my parents either. The twins weren’t lying. My parents were. But why lie about something as random as that?
I must have dozed off somewhere during my thoughts because the lurch of the car woke me up. We were home, our large, quiet house looming above us, the trees waving wildly in the wind.
I got out of the car, the cold gusts catching in my throat and messing up my hair. We’d only been gone a little over a day and yet the sunshine and optimism felt so long ago.
***
I was back at the lighthouse, standing outside of it just underneath the tower. Its insides were lit up like a spaceship with piercing light coming through the porthole windows. A movement at the very top of the lighthouse caught my eye. A man came to the edge and looked over me and the ocean before him. He was fuzzy and devoid of shape or feature. It was as if my eyes couldn’t, or wouldn’t, focus on him.
He lifted his arm and pointed to the sea. With the light splashing out behind him it made his movements look like grandiose gestures.
I followed his gaze and saw floating pieces of wreckage bobbing up and down among the waves. They glinted in the dark. I looked up again at the man. He was gone.
I faced the ocean and the incoming wreckage. The man was now standing between the sea and me, continuing to search the waves.
I took a step toward him. He wasn’t tall or large but there was a feeling of immensity about him. His black coat looked dense like a black hole, and the more closely I looked at it, the more it opened into a deep chasm. It was intensely magnetic.
I reached out for him, to see if my hands would disappear into his back.
He turned around, slowly. I paused, my hands outstretched. I expected to see his profile as it came into my view, but instead it seemed to fade into the night sky. Or the black sky was bleeding into his face. By the time he was facing me straight on, his face was gone and I was looking straight into the sea behind him.
“Everything isn’t lost yet, kiddo.”
A deep, smooth voice. A Cheshire smirk faded into view and out again.
And then I woke up.
***
Work on Monday was an utter disaster. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. If I wasn’t thinking about the dream from the night before, I was thinking about the real experience in the lighthouse. The last thing I was thinking about was answering the phones properly. I probably hung up on ten different people.
It was enough, anyway, that Frida, my boss, pulled me aside.
“Are you OK?” she asked, stopping me in the hallway as I was scurrying back from the bathroom.
Frida was just as petite as I was, which always made me feel I could relate
I cleared my throat. “Hey, Mom, Dad…”
“Yes, pumpkin,” said my mother.
I hesitated, trying to figure out the best way to pose my question.
“Um, I heard from the twins that they keep being contacted by like the Discovery Channel and stuff like that. Something about the lighthouse being haunted.”
My parents exchanged strange glances. My dad shrugged as casually as he could muster and eyed me in the mirror.
“That’s all nonsense, Perry. There are no such things as ghosts.”
“I’m not saying there are ghosts, Dad, I’m just saying it seems a lot of people think there are. In Uncle Al’s lighthouse. Kinda weird, right? Did you know about that?”
I watched my parents carefully. Ada did too, now that she was awake. They exchanged another glance and I could detect a barely perceptible nod from my mother.
“No, sweetie, sorry I don’t know what the twins have been telling you,” he finally said. “Probably pulling your leg. You know how they are. Always trying to scare you.”
“Ah,” I said and sank deeper into my seat. I looked over at Ada. She looked like hell, but I could see she didn’t believe my parents either. The twins weren’t lying. My parents were. But why lie about something as random as that?
I must have dozed off somewhere during my thoughts because the lurch of the car woke me up. We were home, our large, quiet house looming above us, the trees waving wildly in the wind.
I got out of the car, the cold gusts catching in my throat and messing up my hair. We’d only been gone a little over a day and yet the sunshine and optimism felt so long ago.
***
I was back at the lighthouse, standing outside of it just underneath the tower. Its insides were lit up like a spaceship with piercing light coming through the porthole windows. A movement at the very top of the lighthouse caught my eye. A man came to the edge and looked over me and the ocean before him. He was fuzzy and devoid of shape or feature. It was as if my eyes couldn’t, or wouldn’t, focus on him.
He lifted his arm and pointed to the sea. With the light splashing out behind him it made his movements look like grandiose gestures.
I followed his gaze and saw floating pieces of wreckage bobbing up and down among the waves. They glinted in the dark. I looked up again at the man. He was gone.
I faced the ocean and the incoming wreckage. The man was now standing between the sea and me, continuing to search the waves.
I took a step toward him. He wasn’t tall or large but there was a feeling of immensity about him. His black coat looked dense like a black hole, and the more closely I looked at it, the more it opened into a deep chasm. It was intensely magnetic.
I reached out for him, to see if my hands would disappear into his back.
He turned around, slowly. I paused, my hands outstretched. I expected to see his profile as it came into my view, but instead it seemed to fade into the night sky. Or the black sky was bleeding into his face. By the time he was facing me straight on, his face was gone and I was looking straight into the sea behind him.
“Everything isn’t lost yet, kiddo.”
A deep, smooth voice. A Cheshire smirk faded into view and out again.
And then I woke up.
***
Work on Monday was an utter disaster. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. If I wasn’t thinking about the dream from the night before, I was thinking about the real experience in the lighthouse. The last thing I was thinking about was answering the phones properly. I probably hung up on ten different people.
It was enough, anyway, that Frida, my boss, pulled me aside.
“Are you OK?” she asked, stopping me in the hallway as I was scurrying back from the bathroom.
Frida was just as petite as I was, which always made me feel I could relate
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