Visions of the Dark

My grandmother passed away after a prolonged illness.  My grandfather died when I was a small child.  My memories of him were scarce.  I was close to my dear grandmother and her illness affected my family greatly even though we foresaw the inevitable decline of her health.  The fatal day arrived when she could fight no more and her frail spirit faltered.  At such times it is a natural reaction to attempt to come to grips with the loss and rationalize that the suffering had finally come to an end.  While this might be true it doesn’t really make the passing of a loved one any less upsetting.

Next followed the tasks of making the funeral arrangements, the burial, and the reading of the will.  The estate was to be divided equitably between my mother and her brother.  So began the task of sorting through my deceased grandmother’s possessions.  Her house had been in the family for many generations and was a large house.  I was assigned the job of sorting through the basement.

The stairs were steep, and the basement was dank and small.  I could not imagine it being used for anything other than storage.  Many of the boxes contained holiday items such as Christmas ornaments, Easter baskets, and Halloween pumpkins.  There were numerous boxes of old clothing and outdated periodicals.  Amongst all these boxes there were pieces of furniture.  A couple of these pieces of furniture appeared to be antiques, which had been covered with sheets to protect them.  They included an old chair, a bureau, and a mirror.  It was after weeding through most of these things that I discovered an old worn trunk.  In this trunk there were many old items of family memorabilia.  I perused through these things looking at pictures and reading old newspaper articles of weddings and other various announcements.

The wall in the back of the cellar was lined with shelves, which contained cans and jars of non-perishable foods.  I was rummaging through these shelves when something caught my eye.  One of the boards of the wall had become dislodged which revealed something metallic behind it.  I moved away the jars, took off the shelf and removed the wooden panel to reveal an old safe hidden in the wall.  I looked at it for several moments wondering who would have knowledge of the combination.  If my grandmother was the last person to have this information, then the safe’s contents might never be known again.  Then I recalled that I had seen an old instrument resembling a screwdriver beside the trunk.  It was certainly a long shot but worth an attempt, nevertheless.

I retrieved the instrument and returned to the safe.  With very little force I was able to pry open the safe.  It was obviously a very old safe and put up very little resistance.  Now, knowing what I know, I wish the safe would have put up a tougher fight and held fast, for it was the safe that contained the horrifying memoirs of my great grandfather.  There were no other contents in the safe besides the small journal.

I read the first few pages and was so taken by his tale that I decided to take it home and read it.  I didn’t tell any of the other members of my family about my discovery.  I had planned to keep the story a secret, but circumstances have forced me to write this confession.  I have already been affected by it; but before I describe my encounter, I must tell you about my great grandfather.

My great grandfather’s name was Albert Jennings.  He was a somewhat eccentric man who learned one of the more unusual trades of our species.  It was he who is the basis of the third local legend I have already related to you.  The version I told was scant in its telling.  The truth of the story was more intriguing than any fiction could manufacture.

Why someone would want to become a mortician is quite beyond me, but this was the path Albert Jennings took.  His memoirs recount the entire tale of his supernatural ordeal.  It is this tale I will now explain.  His memoirs begin with the events of how he came to meet Lilith Morgan, the alleged witch residing in the Sadler Plantation Home.  This meeting was the result of the death of Seth, the widow Morgan’s son.  Albert described how the boy had become quite defiant towards his mother and had been sneaking away from the house on frequent occasions.

Seth would usually keep to the woods around the local area of the house but there were times when he would be seen about town.  He was shunned by everyone, and he wouldn’t do more than just make the folks in town uncomfortable.  Immediately the rumors would be re-ignited and small groups of whisperers would form, watching him sidelong.

On one particular day Seth wandered about town and headed for the General Store.  Just as he walked past Jesse Brown’s wagon the horses grew uneasy and one tore loose from the hitching post.  The horse began to buck and rear in its panic to distance itself from Seth as its large, equestrian eyes rolled back in its head.  The poor boy, who desperately wished for normalcy, tried to calm the beast but this only caused the horse to plunge deeper into its fear.

By the time the townsfolk began to witness the unfolding of this whole display, the horse had struck the boy square in the head with a wild kick.  The sound produced was a sickly thud and blood flew.  Mr. Brown emerged from the store and managed to gain control of his horse while Clarence Wilford, the store manager, ran to the fallen boy’s side.

The boy was still alive but there was no doubt that the blow would be fatal.  Clarence later said that he could see skull and gray matter in the mix of blood and hair.  Doctor Grenier was summoned along with the authorities.  They removed the boy from the street and carried him to Dr. Grenier’s office.  By the time they arrived there, the Doc had pronounced the boy dead.  The authorities sent two officers to the Sadler House to notify Mrs. Morgan of her son’s situation.  This was accomplished by the drawing of lots – even then there was much arguing and bribing.

In the meantime, Dr. Grenier and Sheriff Doss carried the body to my great grandfather’s funeral home.  Albert asked Dr. Grenier and Sheriff Doss to please remain behind until the news was delivered to Mrs. Morgan.  They agreed to do this.  Albert placed the body in the basement of the funeral home where he did the grisly task of preparing corpses for burial.  The Doc and the Sheriff waited in the parlor while Albert cleansed the blood and other tissue from the wound so that when the widow beheld her son it might be more tolerable.

After he finished this he adjourned to the parlor with the other two gentlemen.  They anxiously awaited the arrival of the widow and speculated on her reaction to such terrible news.  Eventually the two officers arrived with the widow.  Contrary to the expected hysterics, she was quite composed.  Albert described her demeanor being more disturbing than if she had been moaning and wailing.  She was somber and made little show of emotion while the Sheriff explained all that had transpired.  The widow asked to see the corpse and Albert escorted her downstairs as requested.  She asked Albert not to begin the embalming process and told him that there was a very rational reason for doing this.  Albert thought this request rather unusual but assured her that he would wait until she gave him permission.

After this she excused herself and returned home.  The men commented on her strange behavior, but this was typical of Lilith and should have been expected.  Shortly thereafter the men departed.

That night Lilith came to Albert’s house and asked to speak with him alone.  The two went over to the funeral home after Lilith suggested that after they talked, she would like to see her son one more time.  Albert recounted that conversation in some detail in his memoirs.

What transpired then was a secret so demonic that it has lived only in the memoirs of my great grandfather in the forgotten safe until I happened to discover it.  Lilith wanted to remove her deceased son, Seth, back to the old Sadler House.  Albert thought that she had the intentions of burying her son in the old cemetery that was on the property.  Lilith, however, made Albert promise that he would never speak of the night and what had transpired.  She also made him promise that no matter what should happen afterwards, he must never speak of the death of her son again.

He felt very confused and uncomfortable about the things she asked; but he finally relented to her request and agreed to what she asked.  Why he did this is a matter of mystery to me.  He never explains in his memoirs why he agreed to this.  I suspect that he had no choice.  He described her as being a woman who possessed an aura of profound power.  It is very likely that she had cast some sort of magical charm over him, and he had no will to resist her.  Whatever the case, the deal was made between them, and Lilith left that night with the dead corpse of her son, Seth.

Several days later there was a report by a neighbor of Lilith’s that the boy had been seen about the Sadler House quite alive.  This neighbor was Samuel Baylor.  He came into town and this rumor spread in a matter of hours.  Most people thought that Samuel’s eyes were obviously deceiving him.  But it was just a matter of days before several other people confirmed his story.

When the news of this reached Albert, his reaction was to fabricate a story of how the boy had regained consciousness.  The Sheriff came by to get a statement from Albert.  He retold his story, and the Sheriff just shook his head in disbelief.  He found the story to be too fantastic to believe but he really had no choice but accept it.  While he had never heard of such things, he was no undertaker and had very little experience with corpses.  The Doctor was a different story altogether.  He was completely at a loss for an explanation.  His only comment was that he had heard of all manner of medical anomalies but this one was, by far, the strangest he had ever heard before.  He was sure the boy was quite dead.

About a week after this was when there occurred an encounter between a neighbor and Seth.  Maude Laslow was walking down a dirt road close to her home when she saw the boy lumbering towards her.  Although she had the urge to avoid Seth, there was really no place for her to go.  She said that the boy looked wild and was acting erratically.  When Seth got close to her, he began to growl at her and claw at his head.  She became so afraid that she began to scream.  This caused the boy to begin moaning and whimpering and then he abruptly turned and fled into the woods.  It was several weeks before anyone reported seeing the boy again.

The reports of encounters with Seth grew fewer and fewer as the months went by.  Many people reported seeing him in the woods around Roupes Creek close to the Tannehill area.  It is obvious to me now that Seth grew into an adult and continued to live in the woods around Tannehill.  The infrequent sightings of Seth surely were the source of the legend of the Tannehill Monster.

Albert did mention that Lilith descended into a deep depression after Seth disappeared.  She rarely came to town and when she did, the townsfolk shunned her as if she were invisible.  She apparently didn’t seem to mind because she never made any effort to talk to anyone.  A couple of years passed, and the entire incident of Seth’s strange recovery faded from everyone’s memories.

Then, one afternoon, a terrible accident befell my grandmother’s oldest sister.  Albert had four children.  The oldest was my grandmother’s sister Sarah.  She was nine years old when the accident that claimed her life occurred.  My grandmother would have been only a year old.  The children were playing near the house in the woods by a creek.  Sarah lost her footing on the moss-covered rocks and fell hitting her head with a tremendous force.  She lost consciousness but didn’t die immediately.  The children went to get their parents for help and Sarah was removed to her room.  Dr. Grenier was summoned but there wasn’t much that could be done.  Brain swelling continued throughout the night and Sarah finally passed away in the early hours of the morning.

As bizarre as it sounds, Albert faced the grim task of preparing his own daughter’s body for burial.  Albert hadn’t forgotten about Seth though.  Albert decided that it was time for Lilith to pay back the favor of keeping her dark secret.

You must remember that this was never known beyond Albert and Lilith.  Albert kept this secret till the day he died.  The only place it was ever revealed was in Albert’s memoirs that I found.

Albert went to see Lilith and asked her to perform the same ritual on Sarah that she had done on Seth.  Lilith refused, however.  She explained to Albert that Seth had somehow changed and wasn’t the same child.  But Albert was racked with grief and refused to listen.  All he wanted was his precious daughter back.  They continued to argue until things escalated into a heated exchange.  Lilith continued to refuse Albert and he became so consumed with emotion that he attacked her.

Albert recounts that he used the poker from the fireplace to kill Lilith.  His blows were wild, so Lilith didn’t receive the fatal blow at first.  She was able to ward off his blows long enough to issue a vile and terrible curse upon Albert.  Hearing her arcane and disturbing words, Albert at first laughed at her and then he flew into an even more violent fit of rage.  He struck her square across the forehead, and she crumpled to the floor dead.

Albert knew that if someone found her, she would be brought to him for preparation for the burial.  He wanted to be done with Lilith Morgan forever.  He waited till the cover of night and removed her body to the woods where he buried her in the soft dirt by Roupes Creek.

The people of the town thought that it was the fact that Albert prepared his daughter for her burial that drove him mad.  It surely affected him but not to the point of insanity.  No, that was the work of Lilith.  Albert recounts the manner in which she exacted her revenge.

It is quite plausible to suggest that it was Albert’s task that drove him mad and that he was merely imagining the things that took place thereafter.  But there is one thing that convinces me otherwise.  I have proof.  Let me finish the tale of my great grandfather so that you might better understand the meaning of the thing I saw.

In the basement of the funeral parlor was the embalming room where Albert prepared the bodies.  The room was long and narrow and contained two embalming tables along the side walls.  At the far end of the room was a table with all manner of tools and vials upon it.  Hanging on the wall above this table was a large mirror.  Next to the table was a narrow alcove that was actually a small, manually operated elevator that was used for raising the bodies to the second floor after the embalming had been completed.

Sarah lay upon one of the embalming tables covered by a sheet.  Albert sat before the table at the back of the room, drinking whiskey, sobbing, and preparing himself for the horrendous task that lay before him.  Hearing the voice of his daughter, he glanced up into the mirror to behold Sarah sitting upon the table.  He whirled around only to see that it was some cruel trick of his imagination.  He returned to his drink.  Then, clearly, he heard her say, “Daddy, she’s coming”.  He looked up into the mirror and once again Sarah sat upon the table looking at Albert in the mirror.  This time Albert didn’t turn around.  He continued to watch his beautiful and animated daughter in the looking glass.

“Who’s coming, Sarah?” Albert asked.

“The bad lady who wants to kill you.”  Before Albert could respond to this strange reply, he heard the sound of someone walking down the stairs very slowly.  Sarah’s expression changed into one of fear and she moved with her back against the wall and the sheet pulled up tight about her face as if she were trying to protect herself from whatever was coming down the stairs.  Her eyes were wide with fear, and they were riveted to the stairs just beyond the door.

It took Albert a mere second to behold the cowering form of Sarah.  He wheeled about in his chair only to see the lifeless and covered corpse of his daughter still lying in the same position as he had left her the night before.  Albert attributed this strange occurrence to the whiskey.

The next day the body of Esther Ingram was delivered to the funeral home.  She was placed on the table opposite Sarah and covered in the same fashion with a white sheet.  Esther was an elderly woman who had been battling ill health for several months.  She had finally grown too frail to fight anymore and had succumbed to death’s thin embrace.

That night Albert once again adjourned to the small embalming room to attempt the job of embalming Sarah.  And once again he sat at the small table sipping whiskey and sobbing.  Two hours passed and Albert finally worked up enough nerve to begin the task.  He gathered and arranged his tools, postponing the grisly task as long as possible.  He thought that it might make the task somewhat easier if he prepared the bodies of both Sarah and Esther at the same time.  He rose from his chair and went to retrieve his instruments when he heard Sarah speak again.  “Daddy,” she said, in the childish voice that could not be mistaken.  He turned to look but there was no one there – just the still and lifeless forms of Sarah and Esther.  Then he turned and looked into the mirror.  The sight he beheld made him freeze in terror.  Sarah sat up on the table with her legs swinging as she looked in the mirror at her father and smiled.

“Sarah, is it really you?” he sobbed.

“Of course, Daddy,” she giggled.

“What’s happening?” Albert moaned.

“What do you mean, Daddy?” Sarah said naively.

“Sarah, are you hurting, Darling?”

“No, Daddy, but I am worried about you.”  She replied.

“Why?”

“Because the bad lady wants you.”

“What bad lady?” Albert asked.

“The one with the blood on her face.  She’s so mean and scary.  Uh oh, she’s coming again, Daddy!”  Then Albert heard someone walking down the stairs again.  The instruments fell from his hands to scatter across the floor, and he struggled to remain standing.  Although every ounce of his being screamed for him to turn around, he continued to stare into the mirror.  Once again Sarah crawled across the table, up against the wall, and pulled the sheet tight about her as she watched in abject horror at whatever it was that made its way down the stairs.  Albert noticed that Esther remained inert upon her table.

Albert continued to watch, struggling to overcome the fear that so gripped him.  Whatever was coming down the stairs was almost to the doorway.  Slowly the footsteps approached.  The door creaked open.  And then the hideous form of Lilith entered the room.  She was pale and her hair was in disarray.  Her face was covered with dry blood and the wound Albert had inflicted with the fire poker was plainly visible across her forehead. Her face was twisted into a grotesque and evil expression of hate.  But it was the eyes that caused Albert the most distress.  They were locked onto his eyes.  She walked deliberately in his direction.

Albert could stand no more.  Upon beholding the apparition of Lilith, he spun around and once again there was nothing there.  No one stood in the doorway and the two bodies lay covered as before.  Albert cautiously approached the stairs.  Once he was sure that no one was upon the stairwell he ran home.

When Albert arrived home, he poured himself a drink and sat down in the living room.  Albert’s wife, Emily, entered and asked him if the task had been completed.  He admitted that it had not, but he didn’t tell her about the apparition in the mirror.  He thought that she would think him crazy.  The death of Sarah was enough to strain their emotions and this news only made matters worse.  A fight ensued and the alcohol only served to make the matter worse.

The next day Albert could wait no longer.  Sarah’s visitation was to be the following evening, so he had no choice but to complete the embalming of Sarah.  Albert descended the stairs slowly and reluctantly.  The atmosphere of the embalming room was so charged with apprehension that he decided to return to the house, sneak a bottle of bourbon into his coat, and return to the stairwell only after a few swigs.  He resumed his slow descent, all the time hugging the bottle of liquor close to his chest.  He had already made up his mind that he would refrain from looking into the mirror.

Albert knelt on the floor and retrieved his scattered tools from the day before.  He rose, took a deep breath, and then he set to work.  It was beyond difficult.  One can’t imagine the pain involved in the work of preparing your own daughter for burial, for it is such a bizarre profession that most of us are thankful to have no gauge to fuel our imaginations into the realm of horror that Albert inhabited.

At one point Albert paused to regard the quiet, peaceful face of his young child.  He began to cry and stroke her hair.  His sobs intensified until he found himself cradling her to his breast.  So involved in his grieving he had become that he unconsciously wiped his eyes and looked into the mirror.  He saw himself embracing his daughter, not in death, but in the living form of his child.  “Why are you crying, Daddy?” Sarah asked.

“Because I miss you dear,” he said through tears.

“But I’m right here, silly.”

“I know, Dear. I know.”

“Daddy, the bad lady is coming again.  Please don’t leave me alone,” she pleaded as she clung to her father for protection.

“I won’t.”  Already the sound of her slow descent down the stairs could be heard.  Albert held Sarah and watched the mirror.    The door creaked open again.  This time Lilith was full in the room and walking at a slow, determined pace, with her hands outstretched straight for Albert.

Albert waited till her hands were just about to close around his neck and at the last moment Albert gasped and turned to defend himself.  The sudden release of Sarah caused her to fall back to the table with a loud thump just as Albert realized that his hands were raised to protect himself from nothing but empty air.  Albert became sickened by the careless way he had let Sarah fall and this gave way to rage at the old crone, Lilith.  It was a rage just like the night he had taken the fire poker to her.  He reached for the bottle of bourbon and made to throw it at the mirror, but something kept him from going through with the act.  He couldn’t shatter the mirror because of Sarah.  He regarded himself in the mirror with the bottle raised above his head.  His gaze fell on the lifeless form of Sarah.  Although it was but a moment, he had seen her alive again.  Even though it was in the most unnerving grip of terror, she had been alive.  Albert lowered the bottle and took a long drink.

Finally, the task of embalming Sarah was completed.  Throughout the remainder of the procedure Albert kept looking up into the mirror.  A part of him wanted to see Sarah alive again, but another part loathed the possibility of seeing the form of Lilith with her distorted expression, cloven forehead, outstretched hands, and piercing eyes that burned into his mind.

The visitation was a bleak and mournful event.  The entire town came by to pay their respects and console the family who had lost one of their dearest and sweetest children.  Emily cried and screamed the entire time.  She cursed the God who let such cruel and unjust things happen in this world.  Dr. Grenier was on hand to administer a sedative.  As for Albert, he stood by stoically with a rather blank expression upon his face.

After the visitation there was a large gathering at the Jennings’ residence.  Family and friends came by with food and kind words, as is the usual custom when a loved one has passed away.  The sedatives finally took hold and Emily dozed while Albert listened to the endless litany of comforting comments that didn’t serve their intended purpose.  Finally, all the guests departed, and Albert left the other three children in the care of a relative.  He explained that there were preparations he needed to make with Sarah at the funeral home and then he excused himself.  The real reason was that Albert dearly wanted to see his daughter in the mirror again before the funeral.

Albert arrived at the funeral home and proceeded to wheel Sarah’s casket to the elevator.  He slid the coffin in the narrow shelf that was just large enough to hold the casket and then he lowered her down with the hand crank.  Next, he removed the bottle of bourbon concealed in his coat and took a strong belt before descending the stairs.

Esther still lay upon the one table with the sheet concealing her corpse.  Albert went to the back of the room and opened the elevator door, slid the coffin out, and removed Sarah to the other table.  Then he sat sipping whiskey and watching the mirror.

How long he waited he wasn’t sure, but he found himself waking up to the sound of Sarah’s voice.  “Daddy, are you going to stay with me?” she was saying as Albert looked up into the mirror to see her sitting on the table.

“I’m here, Sarah.  I’m here with you now,” Albert said thinking of the burial that would be arriving soon.

“Is Mommy still sad?”

“Sarah, when I’m not around what do you do?” Albert asked.

“Mostly I sleep but sometimes I hear people talking.  I try to wake up or move but I can’t.  And then, sometimes the bad lady says things to me.”

“What kind of things?”

“Things about you, Daddy.  She hates you and wants to hurt you.  It scares me but I don’t think she can hurt me unless you’re around.  That’s why she always comes when we’re talking,” Sarah said glancing nervously at the doorway and the stairs beyond.

“Is she coming?” Albert asked noticing Sarah’s agitation.  But before Sarah could answer the sound of a footstep on the stairwell answered Albert’s question.

“Daddy, please don’t leave me again,” Sarah pleaded.  “Stay with me or make her go away, Daddy!”  Albert got up and backed up to Sarah so that he could keep her reflection in sight the entire time.  He put his arms around Sarah and comforted her.

“It’ll be all right, Darling.  I’m right here.”  Then the emaciated form of Lilith entered the doorway.  Sarah began to sob and clutch Albert.  He stroked her hair and continued to meet Lilith’s scathing glance in the mirror.  She made her way across the room with her hands raised to lock around Albert’s neck.  Albert could see that her hands were marked with blood and dirt.  He waited until the last possible moment and just as he felt the touch of Lilith’s hands upon his neck he turned around.  Lilith was gone.  He looked down at the lifeless corpse that he still held in his arms.  Albert broke down and began to cry.

The last entry in my great grandfather’s memoirs is at this point of the tale.  The last thing he wrote was about how heartbreaking and difficult it would be to inter Sarah and give her up to the cold and bitter sleep of death.  His very last statement was that the pain was too much to bear, and he had resolved to see Sarah one final time before the burial but this time he would not turn from the mirror.  He would face the mirror till the end.

This left me wondering about whatever happened to him.  I have never heard anyone in my family mention that he died in any mysterious or bizarre manner.  I did, however, recall the local legend of the undertaker who talked to the dead and was found murdered amongst the dead bodies awaiting preparation for burial.

I decided to question my mother under the pretense of being curious about many of the people pictured in the photo albums that were in my grandmother’s basement.  When we got to the subject of her grandfather, I asked how he had died.  She told me that he died of liver disease when she was a child.  This only served to confuse my assumption that he had died when my grandmother was still a small child.  I then asked her what he did for a living.  She said that he used to be a mortician until her Aunt Sarah died.  After she died, he began drinking and had a nervous breakdown.  Apparently, they sold their house for the money and the family moved into the former funeral home.  My great grandfather then got a job at a lumber mill where he worked till he retired.   I certainly didn’t expect the answer my mother gave me to the next question I asked.  I asked her what had ever happened to the funeral home.  She told me that it was the same house where Grandma was living when she died.

I thought about this for a few moments and then I realized that the basement room where I had found my great grandfather’s memoirs was the very room where he had embalmed my great aunt’s body.  This was a bit unsettling to say the least.  Just reflecting on the fact that such a bizarre thing should have occurred in a place where I had so recently been standing sent a shiver down my spine.

My mind was preoccupied with my great grandfather’s tale for the rest of the evening.  I wondered what had happened after the funeral and why he had so suddenly quit writing.  And then I remembered the mirror that was still in the basement.  I wondered whether or not it was the same mirror.  Even though the room had taken on an eerie aspect in my mind, I couldn’t wait till the next day to go and inspect the mirror.  I didn’t really know why I felt this way or how I could even tell if it was indeed the same mirror, but I felt the impulse to inspect it anyway.

The following day we returned to my grandmother’s house to continue the job of sorting through her belongings.  I stood for several moments at the doorway leading to the stairwell down into the basement and gathered my nerves.  The knowledge that the basement room had been the embalming room of Albert Jenkins was, to me, a disconcerting piece of knowledge that filled me with a feeling of apprehension of descending the stairs.  I doubt that I could have done it if it were night.

I did manage to go down the stairs, however.  The first thing I did was try and imagine what the room would have looked like according to Albert’s descriptions.  Next, I went to the mirror again.  Removing the sheet that covered it, I inspected the size and craftsmanship of the mirror.  It was large and appeared to have been hand crafted.  Then, I stepped back a few feet and regarded myself in the glass.  The sound of a voice startled me.  It was the muffled sound of a small girl’s voice that said, “Daddy?”  I turned around but there was nothing there.  Although the voice was soft, there was no doubt in my mind that I had heard it.  I turned back to the mirror, and I decided that I would control my nerves and refrain from turning around.

Once again, I heard the unmistakable sound of a small girl’s voice coming from, what sounded like, the far corner.  “Daddy?” and then the words were too muffled to make out.  I heard something about “the darkness” and once again the words couldn’t be made out.  I continued to listen to the sound trying to discern from where it originated.  It sounded like the voice was coming from inside the wall in the far corner.  Then I heard a creaking noise and faint knocks that grew louder.  Then the voice grew louder and more intense.  “Daddy, It’s so dark!  Why won’t you let me out?”  My heart was thundering in my chest and my legs were shaking.

I was just about to turn around when I heard a footfall on the steps.  At this I nearly fainted and it was all I could do to control my urge to turn around.  The voice inside the wall was louder now.  I could make out the words of “bad lady” and pleas for “Daddy”.  I clutched the edges of the mirror, my knuckles turning white.  I forced myself to watch the smooth surface of the mirror with the doorway reflected in its shiny glass.  The steps on the stairwell were growing closer.  I imagined the apparition that would enter the room.  The cries were growing more strained as the steps descended.  And then the form of Lilith entered the room.  My breath froze in my body.  She was shrouded in a discolored, long dress.  Her hair was in disarray and her filthy hands were outstretched towards me.  But it was her face that I shall be haunted by in my dreams.  Twisted into a grotesque grimace of hatred and clotted with blood and dirt; the mangled head wound was clearly visible upon her forehead.  Our eyes met and I could feel the hatred searing into my soul.  I could take no more and I whirled about with the mirror still clutched in my hands and threw it at where she would have been; but there was no one there.  The heavy mirror flew a few feet and crashed onto the floor shattering into a million shards.  And then I fainted.

My mother and my uncle rushed downstairs upon hearing the loud crash of the old mirror.  They found me lying on the floor in a swoon and assisted me back upstairs where they attended me.

After I recovered my senses I recounted the entire story of the previous day, night, and recent ordeal.  They listened patiently while I explained all the horrific details of Albert’s memoirs.  They were skeptical but my Uncle Lawrence still was intrigued enough to go and investigate the room while my mother tended my recovering anxiety.

He went back downstairs to explore the wall from whence the voice had originated.  It was behind the wall that he discovered the old lift that had been concealed for so many years.  Inside of the lift he found the coffin that contained the mummified body of my great aunt.  She was finally buried two weeks after her sister who died at eighty-two years of age.