The House that Death Built: Part One – Family Ties

Copse Mire Cottage, Middle Slaughter, Gloucestershire, England

October 20^th, 10 pm

The premonitions were getting more frequent, more vivid. This one had come out of nowhere. No preparation, no setting of intention.

Gwen felt shaky as dark shapes began to flicker in her peripheral vision. She stumbled backwards and fell into a kitchen chair. Her head snapped back, and she squinted at the blurred view of her tarnished copper pots and drying herbs hanging from the ceiling beam. Around the edge of her eyesight the ring-shaped vision grew, encroaching further into normality.

Gwen dug her fingernails into the wooden seat, trying to focus on the shapes in the vision. She wondered whether she’d ever be able to see them clearly. Frustratingly, the ring of vision stopped expanding. The substantial portion of her eyesight held a foggy view of her familiar kitchen, static and safe. The outer edge thrummed with frenetic, unknowable movement. Who were these shadowy figures? She glimpsed gnarled hands clawing towards her, heard faint sounds submerged in the distance: screaming and chanting. She sensed a struggle, a fight for life.

Eyelids squeezed partly shut, Gwen tried to better discern what was happening. Dark silhouettes swerved in orange light. Something silvery flashed and glinted in the air. She caught snatches of a vast, solid body cracking and crumbling. Earth? The night sky? Particles trickled, poured, tumbled off a jagged edge into a black chasm.

Gwen felt a sense of constraint and panic, her hearing became saturated with buzzing, grinding noises. The vision-ring filled up with gravelly textures and she felt as if she was being stretched, torn apart. From the tips of her fingers to the depths of her gut, every part of her was being atomized, pulled, flung then embedded, cemented, set into inescapable pain. She flailed and choked as the vision darkened before shrinking and dissolving.

Gwen slumped back in the chair, coughing and hyperventilating. She rubbed the talisman strung around her neck, a thorn-pierced moon carved from rosewood, and waited for the real world to come back into focus.

She had no idea what the vision meant, but it didn’t look good, didn’t feel good. Not at all. It’d left her with a lingering sense of being hauled, dragged, immersed. Trapped. Was she going to be kidnapped? Tortured, killed and buried somewhere dark and lonely? The loan sharks’ threats invaded her mind, along with the weight of her debts, all-consuming and crushing.  She pushed down the sense of hopelessness. It couldn’t end like that, not for her. She was smarter than that, better than that. And now was the time to put her escape plan into action.

Gwen grabbed her phone, scrolled down her contacts list and jabbed her sister’s name. Jaclyn answered after the first ring, just like she always did.

“Sorry to call so late.” Gwen forced herself to sound less assured than usual. “I know you’ve got your flight back to the US tomorrow, but we really need to talk.”

“That’s OK, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“I mean I need to see you.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, something’s happened. You know how I told you about my job problems? Well, I didn’t give you the full story. We really have to talk.” Gwen paused. “I need your help.”

“Of course, Gwen. I’ll help any way I can. I’ve still got the rental car, so I can be there in a couple hours. If I stay at yours tonight, I should be able to get back to the airport in time for my flight.”

“Thanks, Jac. I knew I could count on you.” As Gwen put the phone down a smile bloomed across her face.

As headlights cut through the dark of the overgrown driveway, Gwen stood up to watch her sister through the partly boarded window of her living room. She saw a tinge of pity on Jaclyn’s face as she glanced at the run-down state of the cottage, its classic Cotswold stonework stained mildew black instead of honey-gold, its aged tiles barely clinging on to its bowed roof.

Gwen opened the front door.

“Hi Gwen,” smiled Jaclyn. She hesitated before stepping inside.

“Hi sis. Want a drink?”

“Coffee would be good.”

“Thought you might have wanted something stronger after your drive,” Gwen said, lifting her half-empty glass of Shiraz.

“No, I’d better not. I’ll put the kettle on, no problem.”

Gwen sat at the kitchen table sipping wine as she watched her little sister search for coffee. “Thanks for coming. Means a lot to me, more than you know.”

“So, what’s happened?” Jaclyn asked.

“Do you want the long or the short version?”

“Whatever you feel’s best.”

“OK, well you know I mentioned I was between jobs at the moment.”

Jaclyn nodded.

“It’s a bit more of a long-term issue. Over six months since I last had a paycheck.”

“You should’ve told me. How have you been coping?”

“Not very well is the honest answer. I’m finding it difficult to just get an interview. Seems like someone with a growing string of short-term appointments on their resume isn’t what employers are looking for these days.”

“You mean you got fired from that last data entry position too?”

“Yeah, bunch of assholes.” Gwen drained her glass. “One tiny little mistake. Just left a fucking zero off the end of a sum but they made such a big deal of it. It was so boring typing in numbers all day, though, what did they expect?”

Jaclyn bit her lip and picked up the wine bottle. “Refill?”

Gwen smiled for the first time since her sister arrived and nodded. “I know, I know, it was my fault, I guess. But it’s so difficult to concentrate. I’ve been focusing so much on my magick practice that I barely have any energy left for mundane stuff like earning a living. That’s why I’ve been finding it so hard getting motivated to get another job.”

“So how have you been surviving financially?” Jaclyn asked as she settled down at the table with a glass of water after failing to find coffee.

“Yeah… that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I can try to help you, Gwen, but you know my job doesn’t pay that well. It’s got the travel and a few other perks, but it’s not like I’m a high-flyer myself. I can withdraw some savings, of course, but it’d have to be a one-off thing.”

“I doubt it’d be enough,” Gwen took another swig of wine.

“Why do you say that? That wine isn’t exactly vintage,” Jac joked.

“I borrowed some money from… some people. The kind of people who don’t ask too many questions, but the kind of people who do charge a shitload of interest.”

“Oh Gwen,” Jac started to reach for her sister’s hand but withdrew. “How much? How soon do they want it?”

“You really don’t want to know. Let’s just say it’s more than a few years’ salary for both of us combined.”

“Darn.”

“Quite. And they’re starting to get impatient.”

“Have they threatened you?”

“You could say that.” Gwen shuddered and rubbed her arms. “And I know that if I don’t sort it out then it’ll get serious for me. Deadly serious. I’ve seen it.”

“You’ve been getting visions again?” Jac clapped her hands in excitement and then immediately blushed a shade of beetroot. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine. I’ll tell you all about it sometime, but for now I need to focus on my money problem.”

“Of course. I hate to bring it up, but have you thought about selling this place? I know it’s got sentimental value, but it sounds like now could be the right time.”

“That wouldn’t work. Count yourself lucky that mum and dad didn’t leave you this shithole. A listed building in the Cotswolds Conversation Area that’s falling apart. The only developers who’d consider buying it would pay a pittance because it’d cost them so much to fix all the problems in line with the regulations, rebuilding to the original standard and all that. After the legal fees I still wouldn’t have enough to pay off the debt. There’d also be the teensy little problem of homelessness.”

Jac cleared her throat and looked at the floor. “Is there some charity or welfare who might be able to help?”

“You’re joking right?” Gwen glared as Jaclyn shook her head. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure I’ve found a solution, but I can’t do it alone.”

“OK,” Jaclyn said hesitantly.

“I’ve been working with The Trust’s grimoire and have started to get some interesting results.”

“No, Gwendolyn, you know I can’t get involved in that,” Jaclyn stood up and started towards the door.

“Jac, please, it’s the only way.”

Jaclyn stopped and turned to look into her sister’s eyes. “So exactly what do you mean by ‘interesting results’?”

Gwen grinned. “I knew you couldn’t resist. Come on, sit down.”

Jaclyn rolled her eyes and took her seat at the table again.

“It’s the big one, sis. The Abundance Working.”

“I don’t believe it. The Trust couldn’t get that to work, and you know how far they took it. And you know how I feel about the dark stuff too.”

“Yeah, but I’m hoping you’ll make an exception for me. Your big sis, your only living relative,” Gwen fluttered her eyelashes.

Jaclyn shook her head and allowed herself a laugh. “What have you managed so far?”

“I started small. Some little items from the supermarket that I might have forgotten to pay for, a couple of rats that I decided would be more useful as sacrifices than scurrying around my bedroom. All placed in the house precisely in line with the instructions. I found coins there the next day. Actual manifestation, Jac. I’m as certain as I can be.”

“It can’t be that easy. The Trust would’ve done it if it was.”

“Yeah, but The Trust didn’t have all the resources of today’s internet, did they? Many hours spent on the dark web proved to be most enlightening. The evocation of an egregore here, a touch of barbaric language there – all helping to manipulate the probability that the universe will converge with my will to provide exactly what-”

“I don’t want to know,” said Jaclyn, covering her ears.

“That’s your decision, Jac, but I’m telling you I’ve found a way to get it to work. I upped the stakes a few times and got proportionately greater rewards. The problem is that the offerings need to be bigger.”

“And by bigger you mean much more evil, don’t you? Sorry, Gwen, but I just can’t do it. It’s against all my principles, everything I’ve worked for since I was young.”

“We don’t actually need to do anything really evil ourselves. A little bit of stealing maybe, but no dark workings as such. We can rely on the imprint left on objects by others’ actions.”

“But I guess it isn’t going to be as easy – and I use that word in jest – as digging up a few nails from the coffin of a murder victim?”

“No, we need to think bigger than that. Much, much bigger.”

Jac listened intently as Gwen explained what she’d uncovered about The Abundance Working. The spell required five items in total to align with the elements of fire, water, earth, wind, and spirit, and the more negative energy attached to each the bigger the materialisation.

Even as Gwen began to slur her words as she neared the bottom of the wine bottle, Jac was impressed with her sister’s research and how well she’d come to understand magick practices. The depth of Gwen’s learning also demonstrated how desperate she was for this to work. Even as children Jac understood that if there was a shortcut to anything Gwen would find it.

“Sounds like you have it all figured out,” Jac said. “So, what do you need from me?”

“Remember when we were kids and we used to play that game Finders Keepers?”

“I haven’t thought about that for ages.”

“Me either, until I was trying to figure out what items would hold enough power to get me what I need. All the research I’ve pored through only explains the type of object that will unlock the Working, but none say exactly what items to find.”

Jac stared hard at the floor. “So, I’m just a GPS locator for you?”

“No, not at all,” Gwen said and squeezed Jac’s hand in hers. “I want to do this together. There’s no limit on the riches that will be bestowed upon us. I can pay off my debts, you can quit your job, and together we’ll live like queens.” Desperation flowed off Gwen as she spoke. “All I need you to do is find the items, just like when we were kids. Concentrate on the elements and dark energy and tell me where they are.”

“Together and equal partners?”

“Absolutely,” Gwen said while crossing her fingers behind her back. “But we need to act soon. With the small gains I’ve been able to materialise so far, I’ve been able to give the loan sharks something, but they’re demanding half of what I owe in a month from now. From what I’ve read, if we can get at least three of the items together by then, I should be able to produce what I need and still keep all my appendages. But I need to deliver the full amount before the Winter Solstice.”

“December? You’ve got to be kidding!” Jaclyn scrunched her face in despair. “It took The Trust years to gather everything they needed, and they still failed. And not just failed, but their attempt shattered the entire coven. Did you forget this is the very invocation that led to our parents’ death?”

“Of course not! But we already know more than The Trust did, and honestly, I don’t have any other choice.”

Feeling the weight of her sister’s dilemma, Jac took a deep breath and nodded.

“I knew I could count on you,” Gwen said and leapt from her seat. She dashed into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of scotch. “This calls for a celebration.”

“Where did you get that?” Jac asked. She didn’t know a lot about booze but enough to know an expensive bottle when she saw one.

“Would you believe me if I said it was a gift?” Smirking, Gwen poured a splash into one glass and filled nearly half of another.

“Suppose it doesn’t much matter now.”

“That’s the spirit,” Gwen said, bringing the glasses and bottle back to the table. “What do you need to start looking for the items?”

Jac downed her drink and felt it burn in her chest. “Just some paper, something to write with, and above all silence.”

Gwen mimed sealing her lips and left the room to find a notebook. Jac helped herself to another splash of whiskey and walked over to the window. The full moon now bathed the garden in a calming bluish light. She remembered as a child being excited to watch every full moon, certain that it would reveal the hiding spot of faery folk.

Near the edge of the property was a tree stump where Jac would sit and peer into the forest waiting to see lights dance through the trees. They never did though. But her late night adventures did reveal something. Bathing in the light of the full moon recharged her abilities – knowing things like when the teacher would be setting surprise tests, what days the school bullies would be looking for fights, and, most importantly, where she could find things.

“I didn’t know if pencil or ink would be better, so I brought both,” Gwen said, placing a large scroll of parchment, pen, and pencil down on the kitchen table. “Anything else you need?”

“It’s better if I concentrate outside,” Jaclyn said gathering the items. As Gwen reached for her jacket by the door, she added, “Alone.”

“Oh, ok. Well, just let me know if I can help.” Gwen sat and reached for her scotch.

The crisp air wrapped around Jaclyn as she walked through the garden. Part of her started to doubt the old stump even still existed, but the thought vanished as quickly as it came. There, just before the edge of the woods, she could see the stones she’d placed around the stump as a girl. The smooth flagstones had always been in the ground around the stump, but as a child she’d thought to collect fist sized rocks to build a little wall around her most magickal spot.

She stepped over what was left of the wall, sat on one of the flagstones and placed the book on the stump. “Now what?” she whispered to the empty pages. It had been so long since she’d used her powers to play Finders Keepers, she couldn’t even remember how she’d done it.

The wall behind her began to feel unnaturally warm. “Of course,” she exclaimed. Twisting toward the stones, Jaclyn felt along the wall until her fingers found the only spot that was as smooth as glass. Heat radiated from the spot until she plucked the stone from the wall. In the empty space she found the red silk scarf she’d hidden there, and within the folds of the material were three quartz crystals that sparkled like shards of ice.

Now she remembered how the game was played. Gwen would hide something, give only the smallest of clues of what it was, and then Jaclyn would sit at her stump, holding a crystal in each hand and one in her mouth until she could see where Gwen had stashed the object.

She paused for a moment, worried that her abilities had vanished, that she’d outgrown them just as she’d left behind notions of searching for faeries, but as Gwen had said they were out of other options. She popped one of the crystals in her mouth and centred the others in the palm of each hand, closed her eyes and focused on the element of fire.

From the upstairs window of the cottage Gwen spied on her sister. She knew she couldn’t outright tell Jaclyn how to reawaken her gift for finding things, her sister had to rediscover and remember them on her own. Gwen sighed in relief as she watched her sibling pluck the red scarf from the stone wall. “Blessed be,” she said aloud and raised her glass to the moon.

She calmly walked back down the stairs and sat at the kitchen table, waiting for her magickal tracker to come back inside with the answers. Nearly an hour later the front door opened, and Jaclyn entered in a daze.

“You must be frozen. Come sit and I’ll make you some tea,” Gwen said, splashing a bit of scotch in a glass for her sister before putting the kettle on.

“Thanks, that’d be lovely.” Jac sat and sipped her drink.

“So, did it work?”

“Sort of,” Jac said, sounding spacey. She shook her head. “I mean, yes.” She put the parchment on the table. “I was able to locate items for Fire, Water, and Earth, but not the others.”

Gwen forced herself to take a deep breath so she wouldn’t scream. “We need all five.”

“I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more, but that’s all the energy I could muster.” She placed the red silk scarf on the table next to the parchment. “I think I drained all the magick I could out of these crystals. Remember when mum used to recharge them in the moonlight? If I try again on the next full moon, I’m sure the location of the last two items will be revealed. At least we should be able to conjure enough energy with the first three to meet your November deadline.”

The kettle whistled and Gwen turned off the heat. “I’m sure you’re right,” she said with a smile. “Some is better than none, and soon enough we’ll have all the money we could ever want.”

“Exactly,” Jac said. “And lucky for you two of the items aren’t all that far away. The third one…well, I think I was guided to the third one because I was thinking about my job for a split second.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ll mail it to you after I find it, so it’s no problem at all.”

Gwen’s face hardened with impatience.

“The object for Water is in San Francisco. Alcatraz Island to be precise.” Jaclyn could see the frustration building in her sister’s entire body. “Honestly, it’s no problem at all. I’ll be in that area for the first half of November and will make sure you have it before you need to deliver the payment.”

For an extra moment Gwen kept her mouth pinched in a line of disappointment, not because she had any doubt Jaclyn would deliver on her promise but just to drive home how much she was counting on her. Inside she was smiling. Things felt like they were finally turning around, and she didn’t even have to do all the work herself.

She brought over the pot of tea and listened as Jac explained what her Finders Keepers visions had shown her and where the items for Fire and Earth would be found. Outside the sun bled across the horizon painting the sky in pinks and reds.

Join us again next Wednesday for the continuation of The House that Death Built

Lisel Jones is a short story author whose twisted tales have been influenced by dark encounters, mystical landscapes and admin jobs. Several of her stories have been featured on The NoSleep Podcast. She lives with her husband in rural North Wales.

J. A. Sullivan is a horror writer and paranormal enthusiast, based in Brantford, ON, Canada. Her fiction has appeared in Don’t Open the Door (2019), It Came From The Darkness (2020), and she acted as an assistant editor for Black Dogs, Black Tales (2020). Other macabre tales and Sullivan’s recommendations for horror books and podcasts can be found on Kendall Reviews.