There wasn’t an ounce of humour in Edward’s face. “Maybe, all this time, the wrong person has been asking the questions.”
William refused to believe this. He couldn’t – wouldn’t. Panicked, William let the words fall out of him, not bothering to try and control them. “This is happening because I’m messed up. That’s the answer.”
“We’re all a little messed up, Will. There isn’t anything wrong with that.”
A lump formed in William’s throat, choking him. “You don’t understand. What happened to me, it really fucked with my head. I – I’m… I just want to go to sleep.”
If that was even possible.
“Then close the board,” Edward said with a serious note. “You need to end this because the glass isn’t moving for me.”
Tired of the façade, William didn’t refuse Edward. The quickest way of stopping this was to do as Edward said because he wasn’t going to relent. “Okay, fine. Ghosts, whatever you are, we’re saying goodbye now. Time to go–”
The glass didn’t just move. It shot across the board, torn from beneath Edward and William’s fingers, coming to rest over the word ‘No’.
“Shit,” Edward hissed. “Fingers, back on the glass.Now.”
But William couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything but sit, eyes pinned to the glass, the word no, and feel the uncaring brush of breath itch across the back of his neck.
Shit indeed.
In a state of intense panic, a person is believed to enter one of two modes: fight or flight. But for William Thorn, as he boxed himself into the corner of the room, eyes locked upon the Ouija board, there was another response his body became a victim to: freeze. He couldn’t move a muscle. All he wanted to do was close his eyes. Even those refused him as they focused on the glass, where it rested atop the word: no.
“Wemustclose the board,” Edward repeated for the third time as he stood, stock still, a few feet away from the sentient glass. “Leaving it open isn’t going to do us any favours.”
Although the space between them was nothing vast, it felt like a thousand leagues to William. His mind screamed with the urge to run to Edward, to encase himself in the arms of the man who’d given him comfort too many times to count. But for that, he would need his limbs to listen, and right then, they were refusing William the courtesy.
Then there was the issue of his lack of response. His silence. William knew, deep down, that if he opened his mouth and replied to Edward, whatever had moved that glass would think he was speaking to it.
William gave power to whatever lurked in Hanbury. That meant he could take it away too.
Both men locked eyes with each other. The dark room seemed to stretch and pull, creating more distance between them. William’s stomach turned in on itself, making the sudden urge to vomit almost impossible to ignore.
Dawn light speared through the slightly parted curtains, bathing the middle of the bedroom in a pool of light. The butt of the glass caught in the glow, winking as though it taunted William. Which in itself was odd because surely ghosts and ghouls didn’t come out in daylight. The juxtaposition added to the discomfort riling through William’s clammy body.
Edward gave up waiting for William to reply. With teeth bared like some vicious beast, he stalked towards the board. Air choked in William’s throat as he tried to say something, do anything, to stop Edward. But it wasn’t until his slender hands cautiously stretched towards the unmoving glass, that William finally managed to get a word out.
“Be careful.” William forced words out through a throat that felt like hands constricted around it. “Don’t piss it off.”
Piss it off?Thinking, let alone saying, that out loud, made the charade seem ridiculous.
But the warning worked. It gave Edward pause. His fingers barely brushed the glass as he looked back at William. He offered a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes but still portrayed the emotion he wished: false calm, a bravado that came when a person was internally panicking but wanted those around them not to worry.
“I hate to say it, but I think we’re far beyond that now,” Edward said.
William held his breath for a few seconds, his skull throbbing with a building ache. “Just be quick about it.”
“Oh, I intend to. It’s time to say goodbye.” Edward spoke to the shadows as he moved the glass over to the word goodbye. He let it rest there, then picked it up, flipped it over, and moved the glass onto the worn carpet beside the board.
Nothing had changed. The atmosphere hadn’t lightened, if anything William felt as if the room was closing in, the shadows slinking like ink across parchment, ready to stain him.
“Is that it?”
“Yes. It’s over.”
William shifted forwards, the tips of his fingers tingling. “As much as I’m desperate to believe you, something still feels wrong.”
“That would be the adrenaline. Let it pass. If you still feel uncomfortable, we can say a prayer.”
