Page 67 of The Curse of Redwood
“Zeke? Please snap out of this,” I softly cried. “I’m sorry for upsetting you.”
His ability to hold a solid form relied on his emotions. But I hadn’t realized his mind could go too. He hovered a few inches off the floor, his feet not even touching. The most unsettling thing was his pale eyes. They reminded me of a corpse.
“Ezekiel,” I said, reaching for him again. When my hand went through him, I tried again. Then once more. Anxiety bubbled inside of me, and my tears fell faster. “Please.”
“He’s lost to you now, my boy,” an unfamiliar voice said from behind me.
I gasped when I saw the man who’d spoken. Blood splattered the front of his dinner jacket, and his short dark hair was slicked back. A very thin mustache curved along his upper lip. He looked to be in his late twenties and was very handsome. The axe he carried over one shoulder made it hard to focus on much else, though.
“What do you mean he’s lost?” I asked, once able to find my voice.
“He’s gone where all of us go,” he answered, striding forward with a small bounce in his step. “When our grief becomes too much anyway. In that state.” He motioned to Zeke. “He’s stuck in a perpetual sorrow, reliving his greatest pain. He’s unable to focus on anything else. It takes us over completely. Haunts us. Think of it like a bad dream you cannot awake from.”
“Will he ever wake up?”
“Eventually.” The man shrugged and lifted the axe, swinging it in front of him before resting it at his side. He smirked at me. “Do not be alarmed, my dear boy. You’re safe from my axe. The master’s given us all orders, you see. You aren’t to be harmed.” He broke out into a laugh. “Though, some in this mansion will do all they can to disobey. You’ve become quite the spectacle to us, a living person in our midst.”
“The master?”
“Master Warren,” the man responded, nodding to Zeke. “The curse binds us to him. He’s the cause of the bloody thing after all.”
My mind whirled at that. “He is?”
The man moved even closer. “There’s much he hasn’t told you, I see. That’s all good and well. You’ll know soon enough, I’m sure.”
Zeke caused the curse? How?
“Your name is Jasper Davies, right?” I asked, as it finally hit me. Florence had told me and Ben about a wealthy young businessman who’d killed his entire dinner party before slaughtering his family with an axe.
“Correct, my boy!” Jasper swung the axe again, and I flinched at the sharp whoosh of air it caused. “You know. I can blame the curse for forcing me to kill my darling wife and children… but killing my guests? That was entertaining. I never liked the stiff bastards anyway.”
A maniacal laugh ejected from him, and the axe swung back and forth again.Swish, whoosh.I stepped backward to put distance between us. He’d gotten awfully close to me during our conversation. I wasn’t sure I could trust him. The man was mad.
Not all ghosts were the same. Some kept semblances of who they used to be, while others became more malicious. Twisted in both soul and body.
Was Jasper the latter?
“Zeke,” I said, not taking my eyes off Jasper. The handsome man smiled as he treaded across the floor. With each flash of lightning, he appeared closer to me, his smile growing even more sinister. “Please come back.”
Jasper feigned hurt. “My dear boy, I’m greatly offended. You do not enjoy my company?”
My legs shook as I stared at him.
His grip tightened on the axe and he held it up higher. Then, a crazy gleam struck his eyes. “I wish to invite you to dinner this evening. I hope you like your meat extra rare… and bloody.”
He swung the axe toward my head.
“Zeke!” I screamed as I ducked out of the way. I thrust a hand toward my lover, and like before, it went right through him. “Snap out of it! Please!”
But he didn’t. The anguished wails had softened, yet that same tortured expression remained on his ethereal face.
With no other choice, I jumped to my feet and darted to the side as Jasper swung again. He was blocking the exit. I’d have to pass him to leave the room.
“I thought you said I was safe from your axe.” I jumped behind the couch to put something between us and scooted around it as he stalked me like a lion.
He twisted the handle, slowly turning the weapon in his hands. He breathed out and released a dramatized sigh. Then, the smile widened. “I lied.”
As he dove toward me, I pushed away from the couch and ran for the door. His steps sounded behind me, and I felt the air rustle behind my head. Bile rose in my throat as fear churned in my gut, but there was no time to overthink it. If I stopped running, I knew he’d kill me.
