CHAPTER ONE

2007-10-27T09:43:00.000-05:00

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Lorna watched her friend as they neared the front steps of the old house. Helen had been all too eager for this 'outing', and she wasn't sure she trusted her. A slight breeze caught Lorna's tawny blond hair, making wheat colored slashes across her eyes. Through them, she watched Helen intently, wondering what was in store for her inside.

Helen turned, smiling sweetly, "We can turn back, if you want." Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief, her dark hair swaying with the gentle breeze, "You look like a doe caught in headlights." Lorna shook her head, "No. I'm fine. Just wondering what you've set up, that's all."

Helen laughed, "I fuck with your head one time, and what? You don't trust me anymore?"

Lorna stared straight ahead, recalling their last 'adventure'. Helen's boyfriend worked at a mortuary, and they had dared her to spend the night there with them. The night ended with Lorna fleeing the place, and they had quite a laugh at her expense. Helen was always pulling pranks. Punking she called it. "Let's just get this over with," she sighed, "Then I can go for therapy and have done with it."

The boards that had once covered the faded wooden door were gone, ripped away by previous 'explorers'. Helen reached for the brass door knob, looking over her shoulder, her expression serious, "Lorn, I just want to see the place, that's all. It could make a great story for my journalism class." Lorna stopped behind her, her heartbeat quickening. The place was just spooky. Why the hell had she agreed to this? The stories went back for years; how the Wellesley family had disappeared eighty years ago without a trace; that their belongings- all of them- remained; that the walls bled and screams could be heard around midnight. Some claimed that a phantom piano played a haunting melody from somewhere inside the house. Lorna knew it was bull shit, so why was her pulse pounding in her ears?

Helen continued to smile as if they were entering Disney World.

She opened the door slowly, her face delighted at the awful creaking noise it made. Lorna stepped in behind her and the sight of the place caused her breath to catch in her throat.

Cobwebs hung in every corner, moonlight shining off each strand as if they glowed with some ethereal light. All the furnishings remained, covered with dust... the layers of which bespoke it's age.

Her eyes followed a moonbeam to the curve of a winding staircase, which rose almost endlessly up and to the left of the top floor. In that curve, at it's base, sat an upright piano born of a rich mahogany. It would have been beautiful anywhere else. Helen nearly squealed with delight upon spying it. She loved pianos; had played by ear since she was old enough to climb onto a piano stool. She went to it immediately, sliding onto the leather covered bench and touching the wood lovingly. She admired it for a moment, then began to play a tune that sent shivers up Lorna's spine. She half expected Vincent Price to float down the staircase, laughing like a mad man.

"Stop it, Hel", she pleaded, barely above a whisper, "You know I hate that song." Still, Helen played on, a slight smile forming on her pouty lips. Lorna walked over to the piano, the out-of-tune melody grating on her nerves, "You wanted to see the place. We've seen it. Let's go!" Helen didn't even look up. Damn, she could be so childish!

"At least give me the flashlight," Lorna waited as Helen reached into her back pocket and extracted a tiny pin light, "That's it? You brought me to this...this glorified mausoleum with nothing but a pin light?" Lorna wondered for the millionth time why she remained friends with the girl. They were opposites in every way; Lorna was subdued, modest. Helen was forever flaunting her cleavage to the world, wearing jeans so tight that she couldn't draw a deep breath. And always fucking with some one's mind. They couldn't have been more different. But, there was something about Helen that drew Lorna to her. Maybe her fearlessness.

She shined the pin light around the great room, shaking her head as Helen continued to play. The tiny light flickered, then was gone.

She shook it several times, then threw it across the room. Just as it hit the far wall, Lorna felt a chill creep up her spine.

She heard a whisper...a male voice...as if someone called her name from the top of the staircase, "Lor....na.." so faint, so distant that it was barely audible...but she had heard it. She was certain of it. A cold breeze swept across her face, and she could feel eyes boring into her back.

"Helen?" she called softly, almost afraid to speak. The music played on. "Helen!" she cried out in such a way that her friend's fingers slammed into the keyboard.

Lorna could barely make out Helen's tall, curvaceous form. The moonlight that had shone in here and there through the boarded up windows had vanished as if a veil had been thrown over it. Lorna's dark green eyes darted toward the staircase, following its length slowly, fearfully. She had the sinking feeling that if she followed its curve to the upper most point, she'd find a pair of eyes gazing down at her- still, her eyes remained fastened helplessly to it. She looked on..the way people did after a train wreck...seemingly incapable of turning away.

Her trembling hand went to her throat, her fingers touching the small antique locket that rested there. Given to Lorna by her late father, her grandmother's locket usually made her feel close to him, as if by touching it she could call upon Hal Jacobs to protect her. But now....in this place, that feeling abandoned her

Helen's voice startled Lorna, causing her to grip the locket tightly, "What is it Lorn?"
When Lorna merely stared ahead, Helen's eyes followed her gaze, her brow knitted in confusion. Seeing nothing of interest, she rolled her eyes in frustration, "For God's sake, will you get a grip? I don't know why you always-"

"Shhh!" Lorna whispered, sticking her hand up quickly, "Listen. Don't you hear that? It sounds like it's coming from the second floor."

She continued to watch the stairs, with the distinct feeling that someone returned her gaze. She wanted to run...but felt frozen to the spot... as if some irresistible force held her there.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and screamed frantically, then broke into a run, the force's spell broken.

She could hear Helen calling after her, but kept running as tears streamed down her face. They blurred her vision and she stumbled several times as she reached the front steps, finally tumbling down the short distance onto the dead grass. She quickly got to her feet, her heart pounding in her ears as she made her way through the woods. Bare branches clawed at her face, snatched at her clothes.

By the time she reached Helen's car she could barely draw breath, her chest burning with pain.

She pulled at the door handles, each one in turn, but the red Dodge Charger was locked.

A wave of nausea washed over her as she heard footsteps crunching through dried leaves....the sound seemed to come from behind her, growing louder until Lorna covered her ears to drown it out. She closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to see who or what was pursuing her. The noise grew closer, then fell silent. She could hear the faint sound of breathing mixed with a sudden autumn wind.

Her heart nearly stopped when a hand grasped her arm, and she pushed hard against her assailant. There was a sharp cry, then the sound of something hitting the ground. She opened her eyes slowly...

......TO BE CONTINUED!

Thank you for reading!

-Eve and Zayury

MAELSTROM

CHAPTER ONE