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“The fuck?” Aaron exclaimed and jumped, spinning to face the other end of the hall.
“Here we go again,” I mumbled. “Aaron, watch her for a second. I’ll be quick.” I jogged into the room, swiped up the walkie, and ran back out, narrowly missing getting my hand broken as I grabbed the jamb to round the corner just as that door slammed shut, too.
“Thatwas close,” I said and turned to look at the now-closed slab of wood.
“Are you okay?” Sky called.
“Fine. But what do you say we get out of here?”
“Uh, yeah. I’m all for that,” Aaron said and raised the hand not balancing the camera.
I palmed the scapular on the back of my neck and mumbled a prayer as I followed Sky and Aaron down the hall. Something wasn’t right here. Sky opened the door to the attic stairs and started up a few steps before turning back to us. “Do you think we should do a Geoport and EMF session here before we head up? Dev would probably appreciate that,” she said.
“Good idea.” I squatted, turning the Geoport on and getting it ready, assuming that Sky was using the K2 meter on the stairs, when I heard Aaron grunt.
“Ow. Fucking hell. That burns.”
“Whaa—?” I started, barely lifting my head, when I saw him holding up his arm into the light from the camera and peering down at it. Just as I was about to move closer with the flashlight to take a look for myself, I heard a blood-curdling scream. I lifted my head and saw Sky being dragged up the stairs by nothing, her arms flailing, and her feet scissoring, the sounds coming out of her mouth dumping electricity into my veins.
“SKY!” I yelled, rushing after her, only to have the stairwell door slam in my face before I could reach it. I hit the floor, the air forced out of my lungs with anoof, but bounced right back up and returned to the door. I pounded on it, pulled on the handle with all my might, trying to get it to budge—to no avail.
Aaron set down the camera and came to help me, and even with two of us, we couldn’t get the door to open. I still heard Sky screaming from upstairs, and my stomach turned. I wanted to vomit, but we honestly didn’t have time for that. We needed to get to her. Now. Just as I was racking my brain, trying to think of something we could use to get the door open, the Geoport squawked.
“Mine.”
“Fuck,” Aaron and I said in unison and resumed our efforts to get into the stairwell.
CHAPTER11
~Schuyler~
Something I couldn’t see yanked me up the stairs and threw me across the floor. I slid several feet until I hit the wall on the far side of the room, headfirst, a cloud of dust pluming, making my eyes water and my sinuses seize.
“Fuck.”
I coughed and took quick stock of my body, making sure that nothing was broken. I was definitely bruised, probably had a concussion now, and my heart felt as if it might beat out of my chest, but I was okay for the most part. Physically, anyway. Mentally, I felt a bit . . . shattered.
What the actual fuck just happened?
The doors closing and seeming to lock both yesterday and earlier, while unusual,couldstill be explained. These old houses had weird drafts. If one door opened, it could cause updrafts that created vacuums. Wood warped. Old locks had a tendency to latch and then pop loose with enough rattling. Hell, mybrand-newdoor lock at home routinely locked me out if it was just a little bit turned and I didn’t notice before I shut the door behind me. Being dragged up an entire set of stairs by something that had no form and thrown across the room utterly defied explanation. And working for a paranormal reality show, we had all been taught that if it had no explanation, it was likely supernatural, or as I’d heard Pax refer to it before—a negative miracle.
Just as I was about to sit up and then try to stand, I felt a force come down over me, pressing me against the floor and restricting my movements. I felt invisible hands wrap around my throat and cut off my airflow. I thrashed and fought, clawing at my neck and kicking my feet, trying to get purchase enough to get out from whatever held me down, but I couldn’t break free.
An insidious voice whispered in my head, and horrible images flashed. The voice told me that I was theirs. That I should have always been theirs. That my soul belonged to them. That I had been promised, and they would take. The images showed those same cloaked figures I’d dreamt about. That same male with the dagger and chalice. But this time, I saw a beast, too. Easily seven feet tall and horned like a bull, with eyes like dark pits, claws of flame, and what appeared to be scales on bits of its skin.
No. I refused to die this way. No fucking way would I let this be my end. I didn’t even really believe in this shit. I remembered something that Dev had taught us early on. Something he used to remind us about before every show when the series first started. And I could get on board with the whole mind-over-matter thing.
“You are not allowed to hurt me!” I choked out as loudly as I could and coughed, able to wheeze in half a breath. “You don’t have permission to touch me. I do not allow you to interact with me in this world.”
Just as quickly as the weight had settled on me, I heard a groaned, “Nooo,” in my head, and the force disappeared. I rolled onto my side, propped on an elbow, and sucked in air, coughing and willing my vision to return to normal, and for the dots filling it to leave. The entire space smelled of ozone, and I couldn’t control the roiling of my stomach. I threw up everything I’d had earlier. Just as I flopped onto my back and covered my face with my hands, I heard the door at the bottom of the stairwell hit the wall with a crash and crack, followed by thundering footsteps ascending the stairs.
Before I could even take another breath, someone pulled me forward and to the side, hauled me into a lap, and cradled me against a chest that smelled of Hugo Boss. Then, I heard another voice.
“9-1-1, yo. We need everybody—and I do meaneverybody—up in the attic. Pronto,” Aaron said.
“What’s going on?” I heard Dev say through the walkie.
“What aboutprontoand 9-1-1 did you not understand, bro? Just get your asses up here. Now. Fucking hell.”
