I don't know what I'm doing anymore. This house is affecting everyone that comes in contact with it. This house is alive, and whether you choose to believe that or not; I don't care. What matters is that I'm going to do whatever is necessary to save my daughter. Even if I don't fully understand.
When this started,my husband and I resorted to different methods to try and break our daughter free. We even attempted to contact a priest to exorcise the house. That led to the house retaliating and now, as crazy as it sounds; we are trying to appease the house to save her.
But she isn't alone anymore. Over the course of a single afternoon, Stan and I watched as the small fingers that we saw pushing out from the wall formed into a complete hand. And then a wrist. Someone, or something; was trying to push its way out of the wall.
Somehow Stan got his brother back on the phone. Tim has a friend that works third shift that tried to help us before all this got so bad, but I pushed her away.
I've had time to reconsider that decision, and I have realized the house has been clouding my judgement.
I need all the help I can get.
"Look... about before... I want to apologize," the nurse said over the phone. I found out her name was Beth. Beth had two kids of her own.
"I know you're stressed. Anyone would be. This is a matter of life and death. And it's something that no one has ever seen before. I'm no Christian, but if you are; I'd recommend praying to God... cause what you've told me since I left sounds like you're dealing with the devil himself."
I learned that she risked her job to help us the first time, and that now as she reentered this hell, she was willing to do so again. All because of a hand sticking out of a wall.
"I never believed the rumors, not until this," Beth admitted as she used a tourniquet to tie off the edge of the wrist closest to the wall. I saw that she was hesitant to touch the building itself.
"Rumors?" Stan asked. He had been tending to Marcy. Ever since the incident with the termites, her body had been sore and had a variety of open sores on her arm and belly, she was exhausted and barely breathing. Beth made no comment about her state of being but instead focused all attention on the new arm.
"Local stuff, about this house being haunted. You can read up on a few tabloid articles about it here and there. But it's almost like the house is keeping a secret. Like okay, let's say this boy is really trapped here... so why would the house release him now?" Beth asked.
I didn't have an answer for that question. All I knew was that I was certain that Jasper was a key to this whole mess and I wanted to learn as much about him as possible.
After making sure the tourniquet was good and tight, Beth took out a scalpel and gently cut at the tip of the finger. Then she used a needle to draw blood and commented, "I guess either way we'll get an answer soon enough."
Once she was finished, she checked on Marcy's vitals and gave us more bad news.
"Her body is starting to shut down. Her breathing is becoming labored and now that more than half of her is inside the house it doesn't appear that she has any way of using the bathroom," she admitted as she checked Marcy and confirmed she also had a fever.
"Then we might be too late," Stan realized.
"At this point? Who knows. I can't definitively say what's going to happen," Beth pursed her lips as though she wanted to say something else but stood up and sighed before adding, "I'll call you when I get the results back. God be with you."
I thanked her and let her go as Stan paced the hallway, considering our options. Marcy was asleep now thanks to a few pills that Beth had given her, and my husband used these moments as a chance for us to discuss what we would do if the house continued to wreck havoc on our little girl's body.
"I don't think this is going to end well," he admitted as he slumped in his favorite recliner.
"We can't give up on her. If that little boy is any indication... maybe even if she is completely absorbed she will be alive still," I said.
Stan didn't seem so sure. "You heard the nurse. Her body is breaking down. Who's to say even if she could come out that it would be for very long? She's lost what little will she has to survive.... I think... I think we may be delaying the inevitable," he admitted.
I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to deny what he was telling me. But I knew he was right. Our daughter was dying. It wasn't a matter of if, but when.
"Maybe she should at least go with some dignity then, what little she has left. These past few days have been nothing but pain for her, Stan. But look at her now, she's at peace," I said with a soft smile.
"The medicine likely will wear off in a few hours. If we are... if we are going to come to terms with saying goodbye, then we have a small window here to decide how we want to say goodbye," he said softly.
I nodded and walked down the hall, staring at Jasper's hand and wondering if his parents faced a similar predicament years ago.
How could any parent ever prepare themselves for anything of this magnitude? It was unfathomable. "I.... I need to get some fresh air," I told Stan. Before he had a chance to object I grabbed my purse and left the house for the first time in days.
I got into the car and just drove, not really caring where. I left our neighborhood and eventually found myself at a park about nineteen blocks away. It was one of the ones that Marcy used to love to play at.
As I stopped the car and I stared blankly at strangers that were enjoying the afternoon air, I found myself feeling even more depressed. What was I doing? I was treating her like she was already dead. Why would I do that?
I can't stop now, I have to keep fighting for her. She's my daughter. My phone buzzed off and it made me jump as I saw it was Beth calling me back.
"Hey, sorry for the delay. I got the results back, and they are a bit inconclusive. I guess we should have expected that given the fact that this kid probably has all kinds of stuff going on inside his body. But it's definitely strong vitals. He's alive, and he's healthy. So that's something," she told me. I told her that was good news and asked what should be our next step. She mirrored what Stan had said earlier.
"I think as cruel as this sounds, you may need to consider a way to gently let Marcy go. I don't know the connection here; but it may be the house is feeding off of her in order to restore this boy. It may be impossible to save them both," she told me.
Definitely not the news I wanted to hear but then she said something else I found interesting.
"Honestly though, I don't really mean that. I'm a mom. And I know that if one of my kids were in that thing... I would do whatever I could to save them. Even if all hope is lost," Beth admitted.
I thanked her and told her that if we needed her for anything again we would call. After the phone call ended I stared at the screen for a moment and thought about Marcy.
Why was the house taking so long to consume her? If there was no hope at all?
It didn't feel right. Nothing about what was happening did though.
On a whim I went to the internet to our local newspaper articles and started searching for anything on the house. There wasn't a single article.
But then I searched Jasper Hunt. That was far more interesting.
Local boy missing for days. Family suspected of homicide.
Local residents are up in arms about a ten year old boy that has been missing for nearly three days now. The parents have stayed adamant that they have no idea what happened to their son, but local authorities have found evidence to suggest that he may have been murdered in the house they all resided in.
I kept scrolling, touching on articles that related to the case.
Noah Hunt charged with first degree murder in cold case relating to his missing son.
This morning residents of our sleepy town can breathe a sigh of relief as a traumatic chapter comes to a close surrounding the disappearance of ten year old Jasper Hunt. Last summer, Jasper went missing near to the family home and subsequent search parties proved unable to find him, resulting in the case being turned over to homicide after the suicide of Jasper's mother. Now, after continuously standing by his innocence, Noah Hunt; the father and husband in this ill-fated tale has confessed to first degree murder and to hiding Jasper’s body inside the walls of his three bedroom house. Mister Hunt is being offered a plea deal by the district attorney in exchange for the exact location of where he buried Jasper.
I felt a chill run down my spine as I read the quote made by Jasper's father.
you're not going to be able to find him. He's part of the house now. I made sure of that," Mister Hunt said. Construction teams are waiting for an approved warrant by the judge to begin tearing down the property in order to give poor Jasper a proper burial.
I read another brief snippet that told me Noah was now being held at the county correctional facility and before I really had time to think about what I was doing, I started to drive there.
About halfway to the downtown area, my phone buzzed again. It was Stan. I let it go to speakerphone.
"Where are you?" he asked.
"I'm sorry... I just need some time to myself," I told him.
"Please come back home. I... I can't do this without you," he admitted. I frowned as I turned the next corner.
"Stan... What is it you plan to do?"
"I... I found my dad's old service pistol in the basement. It's a little old, but I think it'll do the trick," he said in a painful voice.
I clenched the wheel a little harder.
"Please... please don't do this," I told him.
"I don't want her to suffer anymore," he said.
“Stan... she’s our daughter!!”
“You said it yourself. Time to say goodbye while we still have a chance...”
“No Stan... it’s the house. Get out of the house before...”
The phone line went dead. I turned the car around and stepped on the accelerator. Noah would have to wait.
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Credits
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