The Haunting of Mercy Moreau: Pt Twenty-Three

Mercy awoke lying on top of her covers on her bed. She quickly sat up, dazed and trembling. How did she get here? The last thing she remembered…

Her blood ran cold as the memories of the ghoulish filled her mind. The scream, the smell…that thing coming after her. Was it real? It had to be. She ran her hands through her hair and sat up. Why now? She’d let the ghost be around her for weeks now and this was the first time it attached her. What was different? Was it because she found the body?

She walked out of her room, her mind a fog of fear and confusion. At the end of the corridor she faced the window. The curtains gently swayed in the morning breeze at the far end and Mercy’s heart pounded. The cool morning air was refreshing, but it didn’t ease her fear. She pulled back the curtain. The water sparked in the morning light. Everything was so calm and peaceful. It was hard to believe she’d experienced such horror in this exact same place hours before.

Mercy took a deep breath and headed back downstairs. Everything about the house looked different today, or maybe it was her fear that made it appear that way. She found a muffin, but her stomach heaved at the smell of food. Even her instant coffee cause a reaction but she had to have something. She heading into the living room and made herself comfortable on the couch. The curtains swayed in the breeze and gave her a perfect view of the back lawn and lake.

“I was wondering when you were going to get up.”

Mercy jumped at the sudden appearance of Thomas walking in. “Holy shit, you scared me.”

“Sorry.” He came toward her and sat on the corner of the couch. “How are you doing today?”

“Better.”

He looked concerned. “Are you sure? I found you on the floor upstairs so I carried you back to your bed.”

She smiled weakly. “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry. Considering what you went through, it doesn’t surprise me something like this would happen. You might have to do some therapy sessions.”

Something about his statement pricked her mind. “I’ll look into it. The kettle’s still hot if you want to make some coffee.”

He walked over to the table and sat down. “Don’t mind if I do.” He stood. “I went for a walk around the property. Just checking things out. The cops have that yellow tape up all over the side of the house. I don’t think the construction workers will be able to do anything today.”

She took a sip from her mug. “Yeah, I think I’ll just give them the whole week off until the police are finished with the scene.”

He nodded. “Good idea.” His phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at it. “Sorry, I need to take this.”

Mercy stood and walked out onto the back deck. A few more sips from her mug and her nerves relaxed. She took a quick look behind her, checking the reflection of the windows to see if she was alone. With her nerves a little more calm, the question came back to her; why did the spirit attack her.

A few moments later Thomas came to the patio door, a coffee cup in one hand and his phone in the other. “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He ended the call and. “Sorry, I can’t stay.”

“Problem?”

Thomas leaned against the door frame. “Nothing other than what’s usually wrong.” He took a sip of his coffee. “That was Helen. Mike’s fucked up on one of the sites and the owners are furious. I have to go back to Kinston this morning and try to smooth things over.”

Mercy exhaled. “Why do we still have him around? He’s always been more of a liability than an asset.”

“Because he’s a good worker.”

“When he works.”

He turned from her. “I’m not having this argument with you again. I like him. He stays.”

She followed him back into the house. “Well until you pay me my share of the company, you don’t get the final answer.”

“You really want to start this argument again?”

“Then make me a decent offer and I’ll shut up about it.”

“I’ll have my lawyer contact you.”

Mercy rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

There was a knock at the door. She walked past Thomas and opened the door. Stephen burst through the entrance with several folders under his arm. He didn’t notice she had company.

“Good, you’re up. I tried calling you on your cell but there was no answer.”

“Good morning to you too,” Mercy closed the door behind him.

“I’ve done some research and I think I might be on to something with this ghost of yours.”

“Ghost?” Thomas said. “What ghost?”

Stephen stiffened. “Hello, Thomas.”

Thomas nodded in his direction. “Stephen.” He focused on Mercy. “What’s he talking about?”

“It’s nothing.”

He moved closer to her. “You’re lying.”

A smug grin came to Stephen’s lips. “Too bad she couldn’t tell that about you.”

“I thought I saw a ghost wandering around the property,” Mercy said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I mentioned it to Stephen and Hector, and they’re looking into it.”

Thomas snorted. “Sounds like you to get wrapped up in the local bullshit.”

Stephen eyed him carefully. “How do you know about it?”

“I know this area. Everyone here thinks this island is haunted.” He grabbed the doorknob. “It’s all a pile of bullshit, if you ask me.”

Stephen clenched his jaw. “Well, no one is.”

Mercy put her hand on Stephen’s shoulder. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Mercy followed Thomas outside and shut the door behind her. “Ignore Stephen.”

“I always do.”

“You know he loves this sort of stuff.”

“I don’t understand how anyone can believe that shit.”

“Look, just drop it, all right?”

Thomas stepped down onto the ground. “Fine.” He jammed his hand into the pocket of his dress pants and brought out a pair of car keys. “Like I promised. You can drive the Mercedes.”

“Thank you for the trade.”

He headed to the Mustang. “Well if you hadn’t pulled this stunt in the first place, I wouldn’t of had to.”   

“I know, but still.”

She stepped down and walked along side of him. The yellow tape was wrapped around a large chunk of the side of the house. A chill ran through her. She hugged herself as she stared at the tape. Whoever was buried there, the family had the right to know what happened to her.

Thomas motioned to the police tape and got into the driver’s seat. “Let me know about this, will you?”

“Sure. With DNA I’m sure they’ll find out who she is soon enough.”

“Maybe find out who killed her.”

He started up the engine. “I doubt that. The body’s been there too long.”

Mercy frowned. “I don’t get it. Someone had to know she’d be found eventually, right?”

Thomas snorted. “Mercy, she was buried in the cellar of a house that has been empty for decades. Who would think about looking for a body there?”

Mercy shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She looked up at the highway. “Whoever killed her probably thinks they got away with it too.”

“Yup,” Thomas said and walked to the mustang. “And they’d be right.”

Stephen came up to her side as the Mustang backed up and headed toward the highway.

“What the hell was he doing here?” He turned to face the construction. “And what’s with all the police tape.”

Mercy wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. “Guess what I found in the cellar last night?”

Stephen pulled her away. “What?”

“A body. In the cellar. Buried under the floorboards.”

“Are you joking?”

“I wish I was.”

He looked up to the highway. “So, what was he doing here?”

“He came to pick up the mustang.”

His brow rose. “And he left you the Mercedes?”

“Yes. Why are you looking like that?”

Stephen glanced over at the black car parked at the far end of the gravel driveway. “I’d have a mechanic look it over before driving. Make sure he hasn’t tampered with it.”

Mercy snorted. “You really don’t like him, do you?”

He put his hands on his hips. “And you shouldn’t either.”

(To be continued . . .)

© 2019 Dark Conteur Collection of Works

About Darke Conteur
Darke Conteur is a writer at the mercy of her Muse. The author of stories in several genres, she prefers to create within the realms Science Fiction and Dark Fantasy. A pagan at heart, her personal goal it to find her balance within nature; exploring the dark through her stories and the light through her beliefs. When not writing or working with crystals, she enjoys knitting, gardening, cooking and very loud music.

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