The Secret Passage

The Secret Passage

Tabitha had lived in the darling old house as long as she could remember. Tracing her memory back she brought forth the stories that had been told of her arrival to Victorian House as an infant. Tabitha, new and plump, had been wrapped in white soft blankets and carried tightly in her father’s arms as he meticulously placed each solid footstep upon firm ground while crossing over and through the threshold of the family home.

           Even her own two children had been brought to the Manor in this way, and quite extraordinary so had her one and only grand-child, Grace. With the regular occurrence of Grace’s mother being away on business in the summer, the sixty-four year old had the exhausting task of caring and finding fun ways to keep her grand-daughter occupied and entertained.

           Grace, a precocious four-year-old, had endless energy and was on an unrelenting quest to satisfy her every query. Many of the inquiries that she posed to Tabitha were in quick fire succession. Before she could even ponder a suitable reply, Grace would respond as if thinking out loud an answer to her own question.

            “What do you think we should do today Grandma?” asked Grace.

            “Well-” Tabitha replied, cut off immediately.

            “I think we should go down to the field and feed the horses and then maybe later come back and have some lunch,” Grace paused for a breath, ran over to the window seat and kneeled on the seat cushion and carefully tucked her pink shins under her body. Peering up with her fresh eyes to the darkening sky, she sighed. “It looks like rain Grandma, maybe tomorrow.”

           Tabitha nodded and with a quick turn, Grace whipped her strawberry coloured braids around and proceeded to skip out of the room. Her distant footfalls could be heard as she ascended to her bedroom.

           Leaning back into the lounge chair and with a quick glance at the ticking clock on the fireplace Tabitha let her eyelids fall. The house breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing in unison. She ignored the soft grumbles of the clouds in the distance and drifted away.

           The light that had once bounced through the glass panels and landed upon the warm wooden floor boards was now being chased away by a grim shadow, whose only purpose was to wrap itself securely around the building and its inhabitants. The walls, covered with small golden flowers that were once held high with rigid stalks were now drooping miserably on the glum paper. The house was being consumed by the overwhelming shroud that had filtered into every safe corner and intimate nook.

           As if knowing something was draining her own life-force Tabitha awoke with a start. Sitting up, she perched on the edge of the chair.

           Listening.

           She could hear rain drops hitting the side of the house, trickling down into gravity’s grasp. She could hear the wind forcing its way down the chimney breast and mingling with the surviving fire. But she could not hear the playful sounds of her granddaughter.

           Tabitha strained her ears, careful not to move or rustle the fabric of her clothing. There was no giggling, no gently whispers that were made when Grace conversed with her dolls. No creaks of ancient floorboards above.

           Silence.

           There was nothing to indicate that Grace was occupied in her own little world.

           Tabitha rose to her slippered feet, dismissing fleeting thoughts of panic. She made her way through to the hallway, the sound of shuffling as she took each step. She placed a weathered papery hand upon the bottom knoll of the banister and paused to listen again.

           Not a peep was heard. Tabitha craned her neck and glanced up at the mountainous terrain she needed to climb.

            “Grace?” she called. No reply. That girl had better not be up to mischief.

           Feeling guilty of the speculation, she mustered on upwards. With each plateau conquered the pounding in her chest increased. Her breath was becoming ragged and uneven. She could feel the blood pumping loudly around her ears, deafening any other sound that may have been heard.

           Tabitha reached the landing, and gathered a deep breath within her and allowed her aching muscles to relax. The gloom had enclosed upon the hall. The only source of light was a slender window at the end of the passage; however no rays were allowed to penetrate.

            “Grace,” she hesitated, with slight desperation and a quiver she continued. “Where are you?”

           Grace’s bedroom was the first door off the narrow landing. An ageing wooden plaque with Grace’s name engraved into was fixed upon the painted door which now lay ajar.

           Tabitha pushed the door further into the room and tilted her head around allowing her to see into the small quarters. Moving the rest of her body into the room she glanced over to the corner of the room, where Grace’s dolls were neatly arranged upon an ornate chest. All dolls were present, but no Grace.

           Not allowing anxiety to set in, Tabitha continued to search the room; under the bed, in the closet, behind the doll house.

           Satisfied that the child was not here, she proceeded to the other rooms on that floor. Fear accumulated upon each unsuccessful search of the remaining bedrooms. Anger swelled and rose from within.

            Why would she hide? Why would she send terror into my heart? Surely she did not adventure out? No, no she wouldn’t.

           Tabitha shook her head and gazed at the second flight of stairs. A cold chill ran through her bones as she contemplated the journey she would have to take up to the attic. It had been almost twelve years since the final time Tabitha had ventured up to the top floor; a fleeting visit to gather some old sepia photographs, but the horror that she had experienced in that room when she was just a child still haunted her.

           The attic had always been a luring space, ever since she was a young child. The dark musty corners, the discarded toys and forgotten family heirlooms that gathered fine films of dust upon their surfaces. It was a wondrous playground for damp bleak days. But no longer; the happy days that once were, had taken a drastic change. As the memories flooded back Tabitha grasped for her throat. Her bosom rose and fell in quick succession. Raspy, breathless noises escaping her dry open mouth. Doubling over, I can't breathe.

           Falling to the floor with a soft thud, her cheek lay flat against the rough floorboard. It may have been a time that she remained in that awkward position of the floor, but when she opened her eyes, her vision was blurred. Tabitha could not distinguish the gentle pattern that filled the lilac wallpaper in front of her. With her hand outstretched Tabitha felt for her crooked glasses that were positioned just out of her reach.

           Rising to her feet, determined, Tabitha took the stairs with a renewed sense of purpose. I mustn’t let her find it.

           The door at the top was closed. Quietly she placed her ear to the uneven wood panel. Her eyes went wide; there were two voices. She recognised both! I’m too late. Tabitha pushed against the door harder now, with great urgency. It wouldn’t budge.

            “Grace, let me in!” she said, banging her fists against the door.

           The voices were still. Seizing the metal door knob, she twisted hard. Pressing all her body weight upon the door it creaked under the pressure.

            “Grace! Whatever you do don’t listen to it!”

           Tabitha had managed to open the door letting a sliver of light fall into the dark room. Looking down she saw what had been placed in front of the door to prevent her from entering - the old family chest. With a final shove, she managed to open the gap wide enough for her to step over the chest and squeeze her tiny frame into the room.

           Looking over to the corner of the attic two small figures stood hand in hand with their backs turned. Standing firm Tabitha growled. “Grace don’t you move one muscle!”

           Tabitha couldn’t see the features of the creature in the dim light. But she didn’t need to. Not only did she remember every gruelling line on its face and the sinister slits for eyes, but she could feel the slime on its hands, pulling her towards the dark passage.

           The smaller of the two figures shuffled forward, away from Tabitha and towards the little opening on the back wall. With both viscous covered fingers it clawed and grasped Grace’s arm and motioned her to walk forward.

            “You will not take her not while I still breathe!” Tabitha said as she moved quickly towards the pair.

           Grabbing onto child’s free hand, Grace seemed to awaken to the situation. No longer docile, she looked into the creatures eyes and recoiled in fear. It had offered to grant her all of her desires, for friendship in return. Grimacing at her, the image of friendship melted away from the creatures face leaving behind desperation and truth. All it wanted was to take her away down into the passage and keep her all to itself.

           Kicking with all her might she struck at her captor. Reluctant to let her go, it endured the pain but screamed a deep howl.

           Tabitha with her free hand reached to grab the creature’s swollen neck. Slippery, she clawed her nails deep into its rubbery skin. Raising her arm, she lifted the creature higher. It squealed, urgently trying to keep its hold upon its pet.

           Shaking with exhaustion, Tabitha thought she could no longer keep her clutching hand closed around its neck, it finally released Grace. Rushing forward to the passage, Tabitha flung it down into the dark abyss. With a dull a sound it fell to ground and remained still.

           Closing the hatch Tabitha pressed her body to it, keeping it shut. Pointing to the chest that had blocked the attic door, urgently she said, “Grace, bring it over here. Quick!”

           Moving the chest securely into place, Grandmother and Granddaughter fell to the floor together in each other’s arms. Tears streamed down their faces, with a glance, a silent promise was agreed; neither one of them would speak of the incident. The secret passage that had disturbed both of their lives would remain closed...at least until the next generation arrived.