Continues...

The scroll continued with how Fairfax had protected himself from the spirits, and we quickly acted on the advice and drew strange symbols by the doorways with the powder from the bottle. The ghosts soon arrived but they couldn’t come into the house anymore and they made their frustrations clear. Thinking we were safe, we mocked the ex-living outside (not very proper, certainly, but we were all under a great deal of pressure you must understand) and read on. Fairfax explained how to ‘re-seal’ the seal, and gave the translation for the symbols on it, adding that the incantation they spoke of was needed. Some set to work on the translation but it was a near impossible task. Whether through the ravages of time, or because so little gobshite had knocked off the letters earlier in the day before any of us had got there, some of the symbols on the seal were no more and we could only use guesswork.

It was then the backdoor flew off its hinges in a cloud of splinters and glass.

In the doorway was a humanoid figure of worms and roots, or at least that is what I thought it was supposed to be. It rushed in, taking all by surprise. Just as quick it killed three of our party, pummeling them into mush. The rest of what happened I missed because I was busy hiding (there’s no shame in it), but I did hear screams outside and Cost’s voice ringing out.

I crawled out of my hiding place once it was quiet and saw others doing the same. A quick tally revealed that we had lost six in total – a terrible blow. I thought we had lost Mr. Warwick too but he had simply been hiding in the toilets. Whatever the thing was it had disturbed our protection from the ghosts so we redid the symbols by the doors. Lord Cuthbert theorized that the thing seemed to attack using sound as a guide rather than sight so we became extremely quiet as we worked on Fairfax’s words. We had to repair the seal and soon if we were to survive.

Fairfax spoke of summoning an ancient sorcerer named ‘Arnum’ to help him, and it was clear we would have to do the same. We needed to find Fairfax’s ring (easy, missus) and perform the ceremony to bring him to us, using the withered finger - his withered finger - as a focus, and maybe some incense as well if somebody had remembered to bring it (luckily, there was some found in Dr. Miles' bag we could use). Judging by Fairfax’s writing, Arnum wasn’t going to be in the best of moods when summoned, and given we had his finger I couldn’t say I blamed him. Also, whoever did the ceremony was going to be marked for life.

We were about to go and try and find Fairfax’s summoning area when the thing attacked again, this time with a posse of ghosts that now pulsed with the spirits of the dead members of our party. More people died in the attack. We rushed out the back and around the house; I thought only one person at a time could make it between the cliff and the building but I was proved wrong. However, despite the horror and terror we stayed silent and huddled together in the protection of the candle light. Callahan, his mind obviously blinded by the pain in his arm, strayed and the spirits seized upon him. The creature was drawn away from us by the noise, and we used the man’s dying screams to cover us as we ran back into the house. I’m sure there was nothing we could have done for him anyway. Well, fairly sure.

After hiding for a while (again), we reformed our depleted party and tiptoed outside to summon the warlock. We followed the cliffs and luckily found the right area. Setting to work, brave Mortimer made the incantations. A little while later, with the air charged with magic, Arnum tripped and stumbled into existence. He boomed his anger at us, threatening to kill us all, to rip the flesh from our bones, to tear our souls and devour them. Overall, he was a bit moody.

We knelt before him in some sort of show of respect, then asked for what we needed to repair the seal. From thin air he produced four odd-looking objects and gave them to us. From what we read, we needed those to place around the seal. Next, we asked him about the hand-object thing and if he could get it working, as we gathered from Fairfax’s writings that Arnum himself had been coerced into giving the object to Nathaniel as a protected from sprits. Snatching the talisman from our hands, he mumbled arcane words over it and light poured forth. Our final demand was for him to tell us the power word we needed to finally set the seal. At this Arnum laughed, called us all fools, and vanished into the night.

Disappointed that we could not get the word but being thankful we were still alive, we started back to the house. On the path before us spirits appeared, and behind us too. The talisman was presented forcefully, and every time it was shown to a ghost it turned them into mist. At last we have a weapon, I thought. However my joy was short lived as a little while later the spirit reappeared.

Back at the house, we gathered our wits. We had the tools to repair the seal, and we had the talent. The power word, we discovered after re-reading Fairfax’s writing, would only be revealed on the seal after saying the words and performing the ceremony. There was nothing else for it but to go out into the dark woods to the lake. Candle lit, the talisman ready, we silently worked our way down the path, trying to ignore the whisperings of Cost, Goode and our fallen companions that gathered around just out of candle light. The way to the lake seemed to go on forever, and the ghosts became close on a number of occasions – the spirit of Cuthbert Grub making a forceful lunge at one point.

When we reached the lake it was decided that a few people would stand guard and distract the ghosts and the creature while others worked on the seal. Huxley, Morewood and Myrtle started working, saying the words and performing the ceremony. But unknown to us the creature had avoided the distracters and crept up. It got Huxley, killing him instantly, and he collapsed forward into my crouch and pinned me against a tree.

That made me sweat.

I pushed the body away and made a noise to catch the creature’s attention and pull it away from the ladies. Some of our distracters saw my predicament and helped, and when it was away the ceremony started again. As the final sentence was read, letters appeared – sort of faintly – on the seal. The word of power! At this the creature turned its attention to those near the seal and charged at us. I was beginning to sweat even more. Miss Morewood and Miss Myrtle translated the word quickly, and the old dear said the final incantation loud and called the word of power.

Everything seemed to stop. Then the ghosts slowly faded into the night, a look of peace coming to their faces. The creature stumbled to a halt, and with a sound that only be described as ‘mushy’, fell into a heap of mud, roots, and worms.

We had survived, or at least some of us had, and the world was a safer place once more.

So anyway, that’s what really happened. Scary huh?”

Ernest Digsby

Newly promoted president of the Laboratory of Parasychical Science

Behind the scenes: