Run & Hide by Beatrix Hollow

2

Aweek later, Caspian and I pulled up to an abandoned colonial revival mansion in Williamsburg, Virginia—about an hour up the road from my family house in Norfolk.

The mansion was dingy brown brick with rows of dark shuttered windows. There were exactly six chimneys and four thick white columns standing sentry at the front. They felt more like a deterrent to visitors than a welcome.

The entire thing screamed an intimidating presence, looming up into the night sky at a staggering height. Instantly, I wanted nothing to do with the place because I knew why my aunt and mom were here.

This place was haunted.

Our car doors snapped shut and I sighed in annoyance as I looked at the tv crew all set up outside, preparing everyone for filming.

“This was a trap,” I complained to Caspian as we walked side by side into the fray of vans, tables, camera gear, lighting poles, and people. Caspian was wearing tight black pants and a black tank top, his defined, tattooed arms on full display. I was far too aware of his clothing choices these days.

“Yep,” he said. “She really doesn’t want you leaving, does she?”

“She can get over it.”

“Why is she so opposed to it?” His brown eyes slid to me and I forgot to talk for a moment. Not until he gave me a curious look and I realized I’d been staring.

“Because I’m not allowed to be normal. She was so happy I was leaving my office job but was then personally offended by this new job. Freelance photography is unreliable. Traveling alone is unsafe. Camping? You don’t even like camping!” I said in a nasally voice meant to make fun of my mom’s nagging.

“Someone is paying me to travel and camp all over the United States for a year. Taking pictures! This is an amazing job.” I looked at Caspian, waiting and hoping for his agreement. This job was amazing and I was lucky I’d managed to beat out the competition and win the contract. Really lucky. I was hardly qualified, having zero experience with product photography. I had to assume whoever was hiring fell in love with my nature photography portfolio enough to overlook the issue of professional experience.

“Yep, it’s pretty cool,” he said with a genuine smile as he swaggered beside me, still looking one hundred percent the rockstar despite the lack of eyeliner and a sweaty half-naked body. He had rings on his fingers, a black leather cuff on his wrist, and a teasing, confident smile that only a star could pull off.

It wasn’t that I needed my family’s permission—I was well past the age of needing that. Or at least I should be. It nagged at me that they were upset and worried though. I wanted them to understand and accept that I wasn't interested in the family business. It was exhausting and stressful dealing with their constant push. I just wanted them to be proud of me like I was of them.

“What’s your sister say about it?” Caspian asked.

“Leave me alone, I’m writing,” I huffed with a smile. “She’s finishing her latest novel,” I explained.

“Tell her I want a copy.” He slung his arm over my shoulder and I stood up a little straighter. Lizzy was a fantastic writer that excelled at science fiction horror. Also, she’d frowned at me when I told her about the job.

Not a single person was excited except Caspian. I reached up and squeezed the hand hanging off my shoulder, trying to show my appreciation for his support. I watched a small smile form on the side of his face in response.

Even a week after the show, I was still a bit surprised he was going with me. However, after the initial shock, I’d really warmed up to the idea. I hadn’t realized how worried I’d been about doing it all alone until I wasn’t anymore. It was relieving.

I found it odd though, with his career seeming on the verge of explosion. He deflected talk about that, waving it away like it wasn’t a topic that needed to be mentioned at all. The tragedy at his concert wasn’t a reason because he’d been planning on asking me before that had happened.

What was his reason then?

“Five more minutes!” Someone barked out in the crowd of tv workers. There were cameramen, personal assistants, lighting crew, sound crew, and more; all haphazardly arranged in the dead grass of the lawn. Everyone began moving closer to the front of the house, a sense of urgency ramping up.

I spotted my mother and aunt standing at the base of the large stairs that led up into the dark, old building. The stars of this production.

My aunt was a famed tv ghost hunter. My mom was a world-renowned medium. They were strong, self-made women that I looked up to.

They both had long black hair that reflected a brown tint. Their eyes were a deep ebony. Both had lithe bodies, thin but strong. I was perfectly okay to be more rounded out. A downfall was my thighs currently eating my shorts. I frowned and tugged the fabric back down even though I knew they’d just crawl back up a moment later. I’d have to put this pair out of rotation. It was so hard to find good shorts.

My mom and aunt looked like a couple of witches, decked out in dark clothing, big hats, and gemstone jewelry. My aunt had tattoos all over her arms while my mother was tattoo free. Which meant that despite being identical twins, no one would ever confuse them.

“Guess we have to wait,” I huffed since the show was starting but my aunt noticed me just then.

“Ava! Come on, just in time!” she called out, her face remaining serious.

“Why couldn’t we talk at home?” I groaned as I stepped up to them. My mom pulled me into a side hug and smiled excitedly. I looked over at Caspian and he blasted me with a wide smile, no help at all. He seemed happy enough to be dragged into this while I was exceptionally frustrated.

“Caspian, is that you!” My mom gasped, moving forward and pulling him into a hug.

“The one and only,” he said, flashing a smile before he stepped back to my side.

“What a nice surprise.” She seemed genuinely happy, which wasn't surprising considering she'd been his stepmom for four years. She had missed him when he left too.

“Let’s put them both in the show,” she said with a quick nod as if all was decided.

“What?” My eyes darted around nervously. “Show? No, no, no.” My gaze drifted to the ominous house. It felt alive and angry. Its dark windows glared down at us and something shifted in one of the windows. I sucked in a sharp breath.

“Go with the flow, honey,” Aunt Maria said, snapping someone over. A crew member came walking over with microphones. Caspian watched apathetically as he was clipped up. I felt my breathing quicken.

This had been a trap and I'd fallen for it too easily. I'd been so desperate to talk sense into my family before I left but my mom had been refusing to listen. Then, all of a sudden, she was willing to hear me out if I came to today's shooting.

Caspian snatched my mic from the worker’s hands.

“I’ve got this,” he said with a toothy smile that looked unfriendly. The crew guy shrugged and walked off, barking it was time to start rolling.

With my mouth hanging open, I shook my head at my mom and aunt. They quickly turned away as if not seeing and began heading up the stairs towards the door.

People swarmed around. The sound of feet hitting the wooden stairs and shuffling up mixed with barked orders and the strain of a showtime countdown.

Caspian was suddenly close. His nearness distracted me momentarily from the sudden swept-up feeling and budding panic.

I looked at his long eyelashes and slightly parted lips as he bent over. He finished clipping the microphone on my shirt and brushed his fingers over my collarbone, his eyes tipping up as he gave a cheeky smirk. He was a constant tease, finding great pleasure in making me uncomfortable.

My cheeks heated since he’d caught me staring at him and because his fingers continued their trail over my collarbone. He brushed his thumb down the side of my neck before pulling away with a wink.

Stop, I told myself. My body didn’t listen though, my stomach fluttering weightlessly. Caspian was incorrigible sometimes. Even when we were step-siblings he was always doing things like this—flirting relentlessly just to see me blush and get angry with him.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me up the stairs towards the looming house that expelled a sense of foreboding and somberness. The top half of my body bent forward as my feet stumbled to catch up.

“It’ll be okay. I’m here,” he promised.

And that’s how I found myself corralled into a haunted house for a ghost hunting show.

My aunt and mother walked side by side in front of Caspian and me as we wandered deeper into the haunted house. A camera crew followed our progress, pushing lenses in our face and shooting enough light to blind us from actually seeing anything in the foyer. Our noises drifted up to a ceiling far above our heads as the show recording started.

The air smelled moldy and was cooler than outside. Darkness was all around. Underfoot the thin wooden planks of the colonial house creaked with every step. I watched my feet move one in front of the other as we ascended the grand staircase, frustrated I’d somehow been tricked into this.

Would my family never stop? Did they not understand how much I hated this?

Soft fingers slipped under my chin, pushing my face up. My mom smiled at me.

“Eyes up. I don't want you missing anything. Help your aunt find something good here.” She turned back forward and kept moving. I shot a glance at Caspian who looked entertained by my disgruntled nature about this whole thing.

It was amazing how five years apart from him felt like nothing now that we were back together. Of course, we talked every single day despite our physical distance. Maybe that was the reason why it felt so natural.

This was the grand finale of the tenth season for my aunt's ghost hunting show. My mother, a world-famous medium, had agreed to be in the episode. Fans were excited, their managers were pleased, and now, somehow, her niece and the lead singer of Nix were here too.

My aunt introduced us and I gave a tight smile at one of the cameras. Caspian, on the other hand, gave a smoldering wink that made even the burly cameraman blush.

I hated ghosts. Just the idea of them freaked me out. Of course, I never admitted this. Instead, I acted like the entire concept of them was ridiculous and beneath me. My aunt and mother always rolled their eyes when I said as such.

The truth was, I was terrified of ghosts. Which meant despite my grumpy face and better-than-this attitude, my heart was thumping in my chest a million miles per minute and I had to keep dragging my sweaty palms over my shirt to dry them. I nervously nibbled the inside of my cheek, accidentally gnawing through skin and tasting blood. I hated the flavor. It tasted like something was wrong.

Something was wrong.

The air inside this place felt thick and oppressive and the house continued to creak and groan as if complaining of our presence. It wanted us gone. I could feel that tension in the air like a hateful glare on the back of my neck.

I shot a glance over my shoulder at the closed front doors. There was a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, an anxious sense of dread that begged me to run towards those closed doors and leave. My instincts knew this was a risk we shouldn’t take but my feet kept moving.

Because of that, I kept gnawing at my cheek, making the wound worse—making more awful tasting blood fill my mouth, reminding me things were bad. I couldn't stop though, too anxious to control the compulsion. It made me feel mildly nauseated. I pressed my hands to my stomach and cringed, trying to will the feeling away.

Halfway up the grand staircase, a door slammed down one of the dark upstairs hallways. I wasted no time flinging myself at Caspian, clinging to his arm with wide eyes.

“What was that?” I asked in a panic. Both my aunt and mother looked back at me with identical expressions of perplexion and judgement. Caspian was unsurprised by my sudden reaction. He was the only one who knew the truth—that I was terrified of my family's calling to fame. He slid his hand over one of mine and squeezed, gentle at first and then harder. The small ache of his grip finally let my mind stop moving too fast. My body lost some tension and he loosened his hand but didn’t remove it.

“Are you… scared?” Aunt Maria asked as if the concept was hard to grasp. My eyes zipped between my aunt and mom. I was so not admitting to being afraid of ghosts.

“Of a serial killer, yes,” I hissed, pleased with my excuse. Honestly, a serial killer would be much more welcome than a ghost. A serial killer could be taken down by all the people standing around. A bullet would lay a man out flat but what defense did we have against an evil house and its parasitic ghosts?

My aunt shrugged and began talking about the history of the building to the cameras while moving towards the sound we heard. My mom raised an eyebrow at me, looking unconvinced.

"Hold on a minute," Mom said, touching my arm. She let the camera crew and members of my aunt’s team pass us.

“Why am I here?” I asked as the crew left us behind in the dark. My grip tightened on Caspian as he stood there silently. "You said you'd listen to me."

“You know why,” she said and I shook my head and sighed. Hopelessness came over me, dragging down my energy. I felt tired. She would never stop pushing. Never let me be free from this.

“You have the calling, Ava.”

“The calling, right,” I said in annoyance. The famous Luna family calling. As the saying goes, we were the daughters of the witches they couldn’t burn. A generational compulsion towards the strange and unusual. An uncanny ability to sense it. And me? I got the special jackpot according to my mother.

“If you keep running, the strange and unusual will catch up with you Ava. It’s drawn to you. You're charmed.” She crossed her arms loosely under her chest and gave me a hard look. I didn’t like this type of talk. It made me uncomfortable. Made me scratch at my arms and push away the memories of strange situations rising to the surface to defend her argument.

I didn’t like ghosts. I didn’t like weird, strange, unusual, unexplainable, or paranormal. I liked photography and nature. I wanted to be normal and in this weird family, that somehow made me the black sheep. It made me the denier, the odd man out, the rebel who needed to be put in her place.

Caspian cleared his throat and my mother’s dark eyes shifted to him.

“I’m going with her this year,” he admitted.

“Oh?” Her eyebrows raised and her eyes darted to where I still clutched his arm. I detached myself.

“He is. So your argument that it’s unsafe for me to travel alone isn’t valid anymore. I’m going. We’re going,” I said motioning at us both, feeling like a team. I walked around her, going up the stairs in search of the camera crew and its lights. I was done talking to her.

At the top of the stairs, it was dark. Somewhere off in the distance, I could hear the soft sound of feet moving over creaking boards. It made it hard to pinpoint where my aunt and everyone else had gone. The smell of mildew grew and particles of dust tickled my nose, making me sneeze.

I heard my mother talking to Caspian behind me, asking him about his music career and how the trip would work out with that. I wandered down the hallway, further from the comfort of their voices. Licking my lips, I nervously peeked into open doorways, trying to avoid the mirrors.

Mirrors were the worst, sometimes showing things you couldn't see with your eyes but could only feel rattling up your spine. Like shadowed men just behind you.

As I traveled down the hall my instincts were louder. Anxiety squirmed inside me, trying to tell me this wasn’t good, we should leave. I took deep breaths through my mouth and just wanted to find the crew as fast as possible.

I saw attic stairs ahead that had been pulled down and huffed my way forward, eager to get back with everyone else.

As I approached the bottom of the ladder, I could hear nothing above. No hushed voices, no footsteps. I felt entirely alone despite knowing others were just around the corner. They were probably standing in silence up there, trying to capture unexplainable noises on their machines. Above was foggy darkness.

My fingers wrapped around the old wood of the ladder and I went up, my hands coating in dust as I gripped the sides. The wood groaned under my shoes and I worried about the safety of the old ladder.

It wasn’t until I was at the top, looking around at a dark collection of old furniture stacked around that I realized if other people had used the ladder tonight, it wouldn’t be that dusty.

No one was here but me.

I felt a pressured lump in my throat that made it hard to swallow. Questions bloated to the surface of my mind, like corpses in a lake. Whywas the attic ladder down if no one was up here? Why was it so cold, a slow chill inching up my spine to the base of my skull?

Don’t think about it, I told myself.

The room was stagnant and thick with shadows—the vague outlines of a room filled with forgotten things.

I shouldn't be here. Quickly, I turned to go back down when a noise slithered into my ear.

“Wait,” it whispered, sounding like a paper-thin little girl—hollow, weightless, and tired. “Don’t go.” The words were faint but clear. My lips trembled and my eyes watered as I turned to look in the room.

“Is someone in here?” I asked. My eyes traced over dark lines, trying to identify everything so I didn’t imagine it as something it wasn’t. Dressers, chairs, tables, lamps—there was so much antique junk packed haphazardly that anyone or anything could be hiding in the mess.

Someone could be crouched behind the dresser right next to me, just a few feet away. My breath quickened and my muscles locked up as I imagined that was true. That maybe some evil ghost was just on the other side of the furniture, capable of jumping up with whited-out eyes and an open mouth, yellow teeth cracking. They could wrap their hollow arms around me, trap me here with them forever.

Goosebumps raised on my arms and I felt dizzy. I didn’t like this, not at all. I couldn’t understand how anyone in my family actually enjoyed doing these sorts of things.

Then again, they didn't have to deal with the strange and unusual coming for them. They didn't deal with the sense that something was always after them, wanting them, leading them away from the group, and convincing them into dark places.

“Ava?” Caspian called from below. I swallowed and turned back to the ladder, ready to go down. Ready to run if I had to.

“I’m coming,” I called out and I heard him walking closer as I slipped onto the ladder and started to go down. The sensation of something brushing against my arm, as if reaching out to touch me, made me close my eyes and swallow a whimper.

It was nothing, I told myself, a phantom sensation my over-excited mind invented. I kept moving down, faster. One foot down the rung and then another. The wood creaked and bent as I slammed my shoes on it. I couldn’t get out fast enough. I winced as a splinter slid under one of my fingers, burying under my skin like a bug in the dirt.

“Don’t go,” a whispered breeze seemed to say in that little girl's voice. I stilled with my head level with the attic floor. I swept my eyes around, dying of fright that I’d see movement under the legs of the furniture. See something running towards me.

Caspian approached the bottom of the ladder and looked up at me. Wind tickled my ear.

“He’s scary,” the ghost whimpered. A whispered secret from a dead little girl who should no longer know fear. Who was scary?

I got to the bottom of the ladder and rubbed my arms. Caspian cocked his head at my freaked expression and pulled me into him right away, rubbing my back in soothing circles. The lump in my throat finally started to relax away.

“Why were you up there?”

“I thought my aunt and the crew were up there. Come on, I’m not staying in here.” I pulled back, begging with my eyes for him to follow me out. Caspian peered up into the attic then looked back down at me.

“Did something happen?”

“Of course not,” I said quickly. He looked me in the eyes and I could tell he didn’t believe me. “Can we leave?” I pressed, feeling desperate to get out of this house. I shouldn’t have let myself get led in here.

“We can do whatever you want,” Caspian said, cupping my face and brushing his thumb over my jaw. “I’m sorry I wasn’t with you,” he whispered as he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. Except his lips brushed too close to mine, hitting the corner of my mouth, making me suck in a startled breath. He pulled back smiling in pleasure at my reaction then grabbed my hand and led me back down the hall.

My face tingled where he had kissed. I touched my fingertips to the corner of my lips when he wasn’t looking and felt uneasy by the strong reaction such a small thing had on me.

I was in trouble with him. Here I was, feeling half breathless from an innocent peck. Caspian was just so… alluring and his eyes were always glimmering with flirtation.

I knew his peck meant nothing but some part of me didn’t want to agree. Which made me feel nervous. I didn’t want to nurse an unrequited crush.

I tugged my hand from his. He looked at me with a frown then put his hands in his pant pockets.

A slamming noise came from behind us, startling me enough to scream. Caspian grabbed me immediately, pushing me behind him as he jerked around to face the noise.

“What is it?” I asked, peering around him, my body shivering from the sudden jolt of adrenaline. My gaze traveled down the long, dark hallway and I realized what was wrong.

I tilted my gaze to the attic door. It was closed, the ladder suddenly gone despite being down a moment ago.

The sounds of people moving fast down the hallway had me sliding beside Caspian. I didn’t want to be found shivering and scared behind him. I wasn’t supposed to believe in these things.

“What was that?” Aunt Maria asked, her eyes wide and face open in excitement.

“The attic door closed on its own,” Caspian said and my Aunt’s face screwed in confusion.

“The attic has been sealed shut for decades. No one has been able to open it," she said. My mom came walking up behind my aunt, her eyes heavy on me and a satisfied look on her face.

“You can’t run from it,” she said to me.

“Watch me,” I ground out in frustration and anger, grabbing Caspian’s hand. I stomped to the stairs ready to get out of this damned house and away from my family’s never-ending pressure.

Ghosts scared me. The paranormal scared me. Yet time and time again my family tried to force it on me. They didn’t get it. They never would.

My mother was one hundred percent right that I had this damn curse more than the rest of them. A blessing, she would always say but she didn’t live with it. With the voices whispering through the night. With the strange things always going on around me.

No one understood the foreboding sensation that it was only a matter of time before some type of monster captured me.

“Ava,” Caspian said as I tugged him outside the house, breathing in the fresh air like I’d just come up from the water. I ripped the mic from my shirt and he quickly did the same, leaving them on the porch for someone else to deal with.

“What?” I snapped and he took control, pulling me around the side of the house, away from the curious people left outside during filming. Their eyes followed us intently and I was reminded again how famous Caspian was becoming.

At the side of the house, it was dark and quiet. Goosebumps popped up on my arms as I spied a cellar door and I tried to pull up short but Caspian just held my hand tighter and pulled me a few more feet before we stopped.

He suddenly got in my space, hands going on either side of my head as my back hit the brick. His head dipped down, dark eyes peering into mine. My heart sped up and I uncrossed my arms, pressing my palms to the wall behind me.

“What are you doing?” I asked, sounding breathy. He held my gaze and the seconds stretched, anticipation growing in my gut. Finally, he sighed and pulled me into his arms. I felt myself still trembling from before. I hadn't even realized.

“It’s okay, Ava,” he said calmly, squeezing me in his arms and I felt my girded tension melt from my body as I clung to Caspian. I was taken back to high school, the reason Caspian knew that I was hiding my fear.

I used to go to Caspian’s room on nights I heard voices or woke from haunting nightmares. It was something we never talked about and of course, never told anyone. It was a secret, me crawling into his bed trembling. Him comforting me.

He’d never ask questions, just held me. His big hands would drag from my shoulder blades to the small of my back, his fingers spreading out in warmth there. Then he’d tell me over and over it was okay, he was there, he’d protect me.

Except there was that one night… the night before he left. I’d woken up when he set me back in my bed. I pretended to be asleep, thinking he was just going to walk out in a second.

Instead, he’d gone to his knees and gently grabbed my jaw, angled my sleeping face up. His breath had feathered on my lips and then he had pressed his mouth to mine.

It had felt like I couldn’t breathe but forced myself to keep my languid long breaths, acting as if I slept while my heart strained in my chest. My stepbrother was kissing me.

He’d forced my mouth open with his, his tongue swiping in, taking a deep kiss. The first kiss I’d ever had like that.

Instead of concern, I felt warmth, comfort, and intimacy. It had been something new, something bigger than when we laid in his bed, him telling me everything was okay. A hug and caress but a hundred times better.

I had felt excited, hopeful in anticipation, and dreamt of what he’d do next. I had wanted him to crawl into my bed, murmuring everything was okay while he touched me between my legs. I’d never felt something like that for him before.

Nothing else happened though. It hadn’t been long at all—quick, eager, warm, then over. His thumb had brushed over my lips, soaking in the wetness from his kiss. Then he’d gotten up and left.

And it never happened again because he left the very next day.

I blew out a breath, wishing that memory hadn’t come to me now. It was silly to think about. I felt childish—scared of ghosts and clinging to old memories of Caspian before he was famous.

“I’m pathetic,” I mumbled into his chest, inhaling the mild spicy scent of either cologne or aftershave. I felt like I was fourteen again, telling him I had a nightmare and insisting he comfort me like I was a child.

“You’re not pathetic,” he said, petting my head. I leaned into his body, letting myself soak in the comfort he offered. My body tingled with the awareness of his—of his long, lean body and wide shoulders. I wrapped my arms around his tapered waist and felt my breasts pressed tightly between us.

“Reminds me of before,” he said. His arms tightened around me. “I know you were awake that night,” he whispered in my ear and I stilled. Had he been thinking of the same thing?

“I don’t… I don’t know what you mean.” My voice was shaky. Why was he bringing this up?

“Do you know how often you came to my bed at night? How many hours I listened and watched as you slept?”

My eyebrows furrowed. “Caspian… I don’t—”

“I could tell you woke up that night,” he said. I heard the complete confidence in his statement. I sucked in a breath and could suddenly feel every inch of his body on mine like electricity. My nipples grew hard and sensitive, more aware than ever that I was against his body.

He pulled back his face to look down at me. One hand came up to cup my jaw and tug it up so my mouth was facing upwards to him, just like he had that night. A vicious smirk teased the edges of his mouth. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. If this was some joke or… not. My mind swam in confusion, hope, and apprehension.

“Caspian…” My voice was an exhale and he watched my lips form his name.

A bright flash of light blinded me. I blinked, opening my eyes to see Caspian cracking one eye open and looking over at someone standing to my right. A girl stood there, holding a camera, a smile on her face as she looked at the photo on the screen.

“Who the hell are you?” Caspian snapped, still holding my face in place, not moving an inch as he kept me pressed against the wall. She tugged the camera back up and a shiny, black lens looked at us.

“Go ahead, a tabloid will pay more for a kiss shot,” she said and Caspian dropped my face and sighed in annoyance. I was confused about what was going on exactly.

“What?” I asked, looking back and forth between them. Caspian pulled me away and brushed past the girl.

“Aw, come on! I need some extra cash!” She called after us but I couldn’t concentrate. My mind was still all fogged up from what had just been happening with Caspian.

What had been happening?