The Ruin by Charles Lankiwicz (novel24 txt) 📖

junkies committing burglaries to get money for their stuff.”

“I’ve heard account of things happening even in isolated communities, like the Amish. Sick people are everywhere, not just in the big cities.”

“You’ve got a point. But I wouldn’t get paranoid about it–it’s just one of the things we’ll have to look at later. Look I’m going to spend the day fixing a few things and maybe you could do some cleaning. It’ll all work out Hon.”

Joan did some housework that morning and thought of the secret room they had found. With some trepidation she entered it with a dust mop. She looked at the large book on the table with the N on its cover. It was moldering with age, its leather cover cracked in many places. Running her fingers over it, she thought that it had a curious feel, not like any other leather she had ever handled. I wonder what kind it is, from what kind of animal she thought. A curious thought came to her: could it be human skin? It was kind of smooth. But she rejected the thought immediately. The she opened the book.

And gasped. It was full of grotesque illustrations of a demonic nature and some of the images depicted....she did not want to look too closely. And it was written in Latin. She could only understand enough, about one word in ten to know it was Latin. Who would want to read such a horrid book, she thought. Was Jim’s relative a madman. It he wasn’t then he probably would be if he read enough of this. It he could read Latin, what kind of text could accompany the terrifying images?

She closed the book with a snap and then noticed some papers beneath it. Pulling them out she could see that it was some hand written correspondence from Jim’s relative. She started to read the first one:

At last I’ve found it! A copy of the Necronomicon . This is great good fortune and I’m sure it will aid my quest to find the Tower of Zareel. I purchased this house knowing that it had to be somewhere nearby. But my efforts to locate it have been futile. Ebenezer Hadley had it cleverly hidden inside a secret compartment. This should contain the key I need.

I have contacted M De Massey and he advises caution. He tells me that it is dangerous to use any of the contents in the book. Dangerous to the user and also that something may be summoned which would be extremely evil. He also mentions that the fate of Ebenezer Hadley is unknown and that he could have come to grief at the hands of evil forces. But I am confidant that I will be safe. I will take extreme precautions.

Some of the things I have had to do have disturbed me, but if I can locate the Tower it will all be worth it.

At last I have found the key! Tomorrow I will seek it out and success will be at hand.

Joan noticed that the date of the letter was several years ago and nothing had been heard of Jim’s relative since then. Again she felt a chill run through her. Everything about this place seems to be so...creepy to say the least. What had happened to him? Why did he disappear? She resolved to discuss the matter at dinner.

 

Jim decided to check out the cellar and, flashlight in hand went down the dark steps. It was cold and damp, the ray of light lanced into the dark showing a myriad of cobwebs, some of which stuck to him. Shaking them off he turned towards the door and noticed scratch marks. Looking closer, he saw that they were long and deep. Rats? But they must be pretty big ones to make marks like this. He went down to the bottom of the steps and found the light fixture. There was no bulb in it as he suspected and he put one in. As soon as he did so it lit up, but the cellar was huge and the light did not reach into all the corners. He saw piles of junk covered with cobwebs. There was damp down here and anything material would be damaged by it.

Then he looked at the ground and saw the tracks. They were about five inches long and sharply clawed. Looking closer he thought that it looked like whatever had made them walked on two feet. What could it be? Some kind of animal. He looked at the distant piles of junk with a chill. Could it be dangerous?

He would have to do more than set some rat traps. He would have to call an exterminator. He hated to tell Joan about this, considering her feelings about the house. But he had no choice. He did not want her to wander down here and get bitten by something. He went to the top of the steps and firmly closed the door, locking it securely.

 

At dinner that day he told Joan about the tracks. Her eyes widened and she turned away saying “This place is getting weirder and weirder...”

Jim grimaced and said: “Hon–give it some time. Please!”

“You’re starting to sound like a broken record with that expression! To make matters worse about this house, let me tell you what I found out in the hidden room.”

Joan explained what she had found and in particular the contents of the letter. Jim looked dubious then began to frown as she continued.

“Really, Hon, I don’t know anything about the guy and what he was doing here. I didn’t even know that he existed until I got the letter from his lawyer earlier this year. This sounds like he was into some kind of New Age stuff or other. I’m sure that it was a harmless interest–probably just an infatuation with some idea he picked up. I remember that even Conan Doyle, the author of the Sherlock Holmes stories, became obsessed with the idea of Fairies existing and even wrote about it in his old age.”

“Harmless! The guy just disappeared. Whatever he was involved in must have been dangerous.”

“We don’t know why he disappeared Hon. People disappear all the time. The guy was up in years and maybe had some issues with senility.”

Joan stared at him with her mouth a thin straight line and brows furrowed. Jim signed and said. “Look, we’ve done too much work already on this place. We’ve got to stay here at least awhile. Let’s give it a month anyway.”

Joan shook her head and slowly nodded. But she felt a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach, a feeling of intense anxiety, like something was closing in on them. However, she did’ t want to appear to be a frightened female getting over sensitive to trifles. Perhaps she was just too sensitive to her feelings. She resolved to let the matter keep for awhile.

 

The next day at 8:00 AM she got into their SUV and drove to Wayneville for supplies. She could not help but notice the difference in her mood as soon as she left the house. The world suddenly seemed bright and cheery again as the warm July sun filtered through the trees, birds chirped, and she smelled the scent of the trees. Her fears seemed to melt away. The turns in the road however were quite sharp and the trees encroached right up against it. She would not like to come down this at night and if someone where to make a wide bend, their could be a head-on collision. She shook herself and thought: I’m getting too paranoid anymore; it must be that house.

Wayneville was a very small town. Consisting of just a few blocks of businesses that catered to the farmers in the vicinity. It had an old fashioned look, but was quite charming. The buildings were all well kept up. She stopped in front of a store with the title: Sam’s General Store.

She saw a matronly looking woman behind the counter who gave her a warm smile, and said: “What can I do for you, Deary?”

Joan gave her a list of supplies and the woman began to gather the items. Looking at the store she felt as if she were transported back in time, with the barrels full of flour and feed, and the smell of sawdust. On the wall she saw some advertisements that looked to go back to the 50's especially a Large Pepsi sign designed like an overlarge bottle cap.

“My but this is a lot of stuff. You must have just moved in somewhere? If you don’t mind my asking where about is it?”

“At the Hosea Dearborn place. My husband is a relative and he inherited the property. We’re going to stay there for awhile.”

The expression on the woman’s face instantly changed to that of a frown and she stopped what she was doing and stared intently at Joan.

“If I were you, I’d not stay in that house. Bad things have happened around there.”

Again Joan felt a shiver run up her spine and she asked: “What do you mean?”

“It goes back to the Manawata Indians that used to live around here hundreds of years ago. They had a legend that a powerful demon lived in the woods in a tower. But they’ve been gone a long time. Ever since Ebenezer Hadley built that house sometime in the 1600's.”

Joan recognized the name from the portrait in the house. She said: “I’ve seen a portrait of him in the house.”

The woman shook her head and said: “He was a bad man. Folk began to disappear around here at that time. Some blamed the Indians but others noticed the lights in the woods.”

“Lights in the woods?”

“Just that. Weird flashes of blueish light that flitted about. They all seemed to be centered around Hadley’s house.

When folks began to disappear. The town Sheriff organized a posse and they went to the house to arrest him, to accuse him of witchcraft. But when they arrived he was gone, along with the Indians. After that the place was abandoned until a few years ago when Hosea Dearborn took it over.”

“Did anything happen when he did.”

“Frankly nothing that people could verify. The only thing was Dono, the half-wit, who claimed he saw some lights in the woods. He had a habit of wandering about at night. But no one took him seriously.

Joan was stunned and thoughts whirled through her mind. She would have to think this over and discuss it with Jim. She said: “ Thank you for telling me all this. It’s certainly interesting and I’ll have to discuss it with my husband.”

“If you’ll forgive my presumption, I’d advise you to leave that place.”

Joan concluded her business and drove out of town. The sun was beginning to set and dark shadows formed in the trees. She began to look at them with a different feeling than she had earlier. Could something evil exist in them? The woods were dense as only woods not trodden by man can be. Between the trunks was tangled vegetation that was almost like a jungle.

She shook herself, thinking that her letting her imagination run riot, and drove on.

 

At dinner, she told Jim what she had heard at the store.

Jim looked thoughtful, then a slight smile started at his mouth. He replied: “These backwoods people have a lot of stories. They just get handed down from generation to generation and have little or no basis in fact. I remember when I was a kid there was talk of a “Green Man” in the nearby township. It turned out that he was the victim of a bad electrical fire that had disfigured him. He went out at night so people could not see what he looked like–except for a few kids fooling around.”

“But you’ll admit that there is usually at least some factual basis for people’s belief’s.”

“The basis here is possibly Swamp Fire, something caused by gases that glow