The Dead House

“Well, I’m coming,” Ari says, and he walks over to Kaitlyn and sits beside her. He takes her hand and rubs it between his own. “What do we have to do to… uh… get there?”


Now it’s Naida’s turn to look uncomfortable. She steels herself, then removes the cover from a box that has been sitting to her left. It is a wire mesh cage, and within it slumbers a plump black rooster.

Scott’s eyes widen, and he turns slowly to Naida. “You’re not… babe—”

“I have to…”

He shakes his head, raising his voice. “No, no—”

“I don’t want to… but…”

“What are you talking about?” John asks.

Scott gets to his feet. “I’m not going to let you pull some Mala bullshit, okay? You told me it was dangerous!”

“This is the only way!” Naida yells again. “I’ll do anything to get my friend back, do you understand? Anything!”

Her voice rings around the room and then distills into a low hum before dissipating into nothingness.

Scott frowns. “What happened to you?” He rubs his eyes and then goes to kneel before Naida. His voice is low. “Naddie, please. You can’t kill something. You can’t. However this works, you can’t take something’s life away—it would change you. Please, babe. There has to be another way.”

There is a small silence before Kaitlyn shifts. “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” she says softly. “Or any creature. I just want my sister back.”

“It has to be a sacrifice,” Naida says. “A trade.”

“Okay, fine. We’ll all give something.” Scott pulls out a necklace from behind his T-shirt, removes it, and kisses it. “Here.”

“Your Saint Peter…” Naida whispers. Scott puts it in her fingers. “But your grandmother gave it to you before she died.”

He shrugs. “Sacrifice.”

Naida’s face crumples as she looks down at it in her hand.

“I don’t have anything on me,” Brett says.

Scott looks up at him and there is a hint of a smile on his face. “Hair. That perfect blond hair. Cut some of it off.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Scott says. “Something beautiful that you care way too much about.”

Brett folds his arms and stares at the wall. Scott rolls his eyes and looks at the others. “Well?”

By the time everyone has finished, Brett is missing some hair from the left side of his head, Naida’s necklace is gone from around her neck, Kaitlyn’s anklet is gone from her ankle, and all the items, including Scott’s Saint Peter, are held carefully in Ari’s round bowler hat.

Naida glances at the rooster. “Now what the hell am I supposed to do with it? I can’t exactly sneak it back into my cousin’s garden.”

“Roast it later,” Brett says, grinning.

Scott snorts. “I’m not eating that thing. We can take it back later. I’ll go with you, Naids, okay?”

She nods at him, seems relieved. “Okay.”

[END OF CLIP]





Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson


Tuesday, 25 January 2005, early morning

Basement

There was time to turn back, Dee. There was so much time.

Naida knelt before a bowl surrounded by seven black candles, whose wax dribbled onto the concrete like some kind of awful premonition. To her left sat the caged rooster, and to her right, a thick book with ancient, curling pages. In her hand she held the knife—the knife that she had planned to cut the bird’s neck with. Scott and Brett sat on either side of her, protectors. Ari sat beside me—my rock.

John refused to come.

I suppose I understand.

There was so much time to turn back. But none of us did. Nobody stopped Naida as she began the ritual, setting the items—and Ari’s hat—aflame.


The house crashed down on top of us, as if it had known we were coming. It was more broken than I remember, more rotten, more alive. A brutal, enraged storm was brewing inside, and low clouds hung over the ceiling, threatening rain.

“Blimey,” said Scott, stumbling backwards. “It’s real.”

His voice echoed through the house and came back at us with more force.

Brett looked too stunned to move. “It stinks,” he managed.

Ari just peered around, his beautiful mouth open in surprise.

“This is your mind?” he said.

I felt humiliation wash over me.

This was my mind.


“Split up,” Naida said.

“Find the door,” Naida said.

“We’ll go in pairs,” Naida said.

God, Dee. I can’t do this—

I need them to tell me what’s happening. I can’t keep waiting like this.


Brett went upstairs, and Scott followed a moment later to find the attic. Ari went to find the basement. Naida and I stood alone once they had gone, her staring at the reality around her, and me taking her reaction in.

“You weren’t kidding, were you?” she said at last, and the clouds that churned above us seemed to roar with laughter.