Bound by Blood ch.8

The mansion wasn’t scheduled to be demolished for at least another month. 

Jackie had thought the hard part would be getting the original owners to sign the papers once they’d learned what would happen to their home, but that had been surprisingly easy and painless. What was really causing the project to come to a standstill was Jewel Beach City Hall and their reluctance to tear down such a historic place. 

Everyone who’d been ready to get started to build their new fancy mall was outraged. 

He was, however, more than okay with the block in plans. Because now he had all the time he needed to scour the mansion for the hidden room where riches were rumored to be stored. 

As the project manager for the construction crew Jackie had had to meet with the woman on the historic committee to discuss the demolition. 

What he hadn’t planned to discuss was that the Lamia mansion had been mentioned in several biographical accounts of famous people and they’d all discussed there being secret halls and traps built into it, including a treasure room where all their wealth and priceless objects sat waiting. And he knew what it was he had to do. 

He had to find it first. 

If I can get my hands on all of it I can quit this s**t job and move to Jamaica. The heavy set of rusted brass keys jangled in his pocket and he moved with purpose down the darkened long corridor, the image of lying on the beach and being served under a cabana making him whistle. 

It was hot outside but the mansion held a chill that seemed almost unnatural without air conditioning. If he’d believed in supernatural mumbo jumbo he might think the drop in temperature was from the ghosts of past inhabitants. But Jackie was a realist. Ghosts didn’t exist. 

What did exist were the horrors of living paycheck to paycheck. Dealing with polished businessmen who acted like they crapped in gold toilets. An ex-wife who refused to get off her lazy a*s and get a job so he wouldn’t have to pay her alimony while she kept dating 24-year-old men looking for greencards. 

Jackie secretly hated that he’d been unable to compare to the well-toned blond-haired and blue-eyed men his ex-wife wanted, his dark features, stocky build, and 5’8” height everything she now hated. 

Once I find the treasure it won’t matter what I look like. Women will want me all the same. Thinking about the shock on his ex-wife’s Botoxed face made him whistle louder. Put a little more pep in his step. 

He’d already searched every single room. Searched behind every piece of furniture, clock, picture frame. Always ending up empty handed. 

But he wasn’t deterred. If anything it solidified where the room must be located: hiding in plain sight. 

Jackie had seen enough movies with his daughter Nikki to realize the room must be hidden somewhere behind a wall. That was what rich people liked to do out of paranoia. If there were hidden halls like the gal at the Historical Society said then whoever owned the mansion wouldn’t have made it so easy for them to find. 

It didn’t make what he was about to do any easier, his pang of regret causing him to hesitate as he looked at the handcrafted wood paneling and the pristine white walls. Whoever had owned this place had clearly taken good care of it, and he appreciated the craftsmanship as if it was his own. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered to the ghosts watching. Then he raised his sledgehammer high in the air and slammed it into the wood. Over and over, rich Mahogany broke and splintered from his relentless pursuit. His only reassurance at destroying the place was it was going to be bulldozed anyway. No one would notice by the time construction for the mall took place. 

Working his way down the hall he stopped now and again to pull out a handkerchief to blot at the sweat dripping down his weathered forehead.  At least I have a month. I should be able to get through this place by then. 

Halfway down the first hall measuring half a football field, Jackie found himself doing something he’d never done before. He prayed. 

“God, if you’re real then let me find the secret room.” He brought the sledgehammer down again and again, leaving a massacred wall in his wake. Continuing as his arms grew heavier from the weight of the tool, he bartered, “If you let me find it, I’ll go to church. I’ll help the damn poor and ugly-whatever you want. Just let me-.”slam! “find the-” slam! “Damn treasure!”

The hammer flung downward with such force it pierced through the wood, breaking past the wood paneling, jamming. 

“Damn it,” he huffed, sweat now dripping down his back and soaking his black t-shirt. Wiggling the wooden handle back and forth he dislodged the hammer, wincing. I hope that wasn’t a support beam I just went through-

"-Treasure...here."

“Whoa!” Jackie jumped back at the raspy whisper and held the hammer in front of him. “Who said that?” he demanded, jerking his body from side to side searching for the voice. “This is private property!” He looked around the hall wildly. Yet no one was there. 

A scratching behind the wall made him nearly jump from his skin. The whisper repeated. “Treasure...here.” 

His head whipped towards the wall. The sound had definitely come from there. He licked his dry lips and inched closer. “I’m losing my damn mind,” he muttered, trying to convince himself he was having a stroke and not hearing the haunted whisper of ghosts. He lifted his head to glance inside the eight inch jagged hole yet kept enough distance in case something jumped out at him, the hammer still raised. There was enough light streaming in from the early morning sun that he didn’t need to pull out his flashlight to glance inside. 

Jackie’s mouth fell open. “Holy Hell...” 

Gold glinted far against a wall. A lot of it. Jackie took a step forward and let the hammer slip from his calloused hands, his head shaking in disbelief. I can’t believe it...it’s real. 

For once in his life something worked out. Jackie forgot the ghost that whispered to him and placed his head close to the hole, his eyes hungrily taking in the sight of the stacked gold bars, trunks of what he prayed held money, red glowing eyes, paintings that were probably a pretty penny on the black market- 

He froze. Red glowing eyes?

Jackie felt the rush of air too late. A skeletal hand flashed out of the hole and grabbed onto him, pinning him to the wall. “H-help me! Somebody-HELP!”

His heart beated a mile a minute as a raspy laugh echoed within the darkness of the room. 

“You wanted treasure... but at what cost?” 

Jackie didn’t miss the derision in the voice. S**t...s**t! He scrambled to disconnect whatever had attached itself to him but jerked to a stop when something sharp pricked into his neck. 

“Argh!” Jackie tried to push away from the wall but it held on tighter, the trickling of blood slipping down his neck. Then it shoved him back and he stumbled to the rug covered in splintered wood and dust, his stubby hand clamping over the place where he’d been cut. 

The monster that attacked him showed its face through the hole, blood dripping from its cracked lips. "Not the treasure you were hoping to get?"  Jackie’s heart hammered violently in his chest as it grabbed hold of the wood and tore it off like it was a piece of paper, breaking the wall down until he could squeeze through it, his long scraggly hair hiding his face like he was the girl from the Ring. 

Jackie backed away and searched for his hammer. “Not today Satan!” he screamed. He grabbed the handle and prepared to hit it when he made eye contact, the monster commanding sharply, “drop it.” 

It’s stupid if it thinks I’m gonna-huh? Jackie watched his hands unclench the rubber handle and it fell with a clunk to the ground in between his legs. 

Jackie backed away in petrified horror. "Wh-what t-the h-hell a-are y-you?" 

The monster revealed sharp fangs when it smiled. "I’m the owner of this estate...November Lamia." 

Jackie’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. November Lamia? But the papers said he’d died!  If he died...then that could only mean one thing... 

He pointed a trembling finger at it. “Y-y-our...a-a-a-a-....G-g-g-ghost!” 

Damn it, he should have known a creepy large mansion would have Haunting of Hill House s**t going on! 

The monster’s red eyes gleamed. “Oh no...” it whispered and stumbled closer, Jackie shaking violently in fear. “I am much worse than that.” 

Before Jackie had a chance to let the threat sink in, the monster lunged for him and pinned him down, a hand wrapping around his throat strangling the scream he emanated. "Now... if you'll excuse me,” said the monster,  “it's been a very long time since I've had human blood, and the lack of it has made me weak. So, as bitter as you are, you'll have to do."

Jackie had no time to take in what it said as the monster overpowered him, its teeth sinking into his neck. He tried to push it off of him but it was useless.  

All he could do was feel his blood leaving his body, the futile attempts at his hands shoving it back becoming weaker. He clamped his eyes shut. Please..someone help me!

For the second time that day, Jackie thought his prayers had been answered. Coming down the hall were two angels, their blue and purple hair shining in the sun streaming through the large windows. 

Tears streamed down his face. Please, he reached out a hand, his consciousness failing. Help...

The one with purple hair looked at him in disgust. "Is that...Hatchet?” then, clicking his tongue he added,  “what a shame...ow!" He shot the taller boy who whacked him upside the head with an incredulous look. “What? You can’t tell me you don’t think he’d be better off dead. Just look at him! He looks like Frankenstein and a corpse had a baby.”

Jackie’s hand reached out further for one of them to help him yet neither did. 

Blood drained from his body faster and faster, his hand dropping to the dusty rug. A tear slipped down his cheek. Please...I don’t want to die here. 

The images of the cabana and women draped all over him  dissolved. The taller one took a step forward as his vision blurred at the edges. “Hatchet... you’re alive.” 

The monster stiffened. To Jackie’s surprise it removed its fangs from his neck. Jackie’s consciousness faded as the monster slowly stood up and swayed while facing the two, wiping its blood stained mouth with the back of its emaciated hand and growling. 

His demand following Jackie into the unconscious: 

"Where's Evie?”