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“Yeah, but that still doesn’t prove anything,” Luna said, contradicting Vince. Luna had always been the skeptic in the group. She needed concrete proof to change her mind on anything she’d already come to a conclusion on.
“Here’s where it gets creepy,” Bram said. “According to this journal, which we found in the bottom of the rocking horse, by the way—”
“What made you look there?” I asked, curious over this whole find. “Seems like no one would ever look there. How the hell did you find it?”
“Here’s the creepy part,” Vince began. “When the door slammed shut, the rocking horse fell over. It shouldn’t have. The base is too big for it to fall over like that, but it did. We tried to get out of the room. No luck. The door wouldn’t open. Then we tried to get your attention by pounding on it and yelling. When that didn’t work, we finally calmed down and took in our surroundings, thinking there must be a reason why we were locked in. We both agreed and decided to look around. That’s when we finally checked out the rocking horse and noticed the line on the bottom, like the rocker was made from two pieces of wood, which was unusual. Giorgio Ballucci from the repair shop told me about it, saying there might be a secret compartment on the horse’s rocker, but he didn’t want to break it open. The horse is so old, he was afraid he might not be able to repair it if the wood cracked. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but for some reason, when I saw that line on the bottom, I had to know what was inside.”
“Giorgio was right,” Bram said. “We had to destroy the rocker to get it open, and as soon as we did, this journal fell out. Somehow, Carrie Ann created the hiding spot with some rudimentary tool, and after she died, her parents, or rather captors, never checked it out. Never moved anything around, so they never found it. It’s like a history of her miserable life.”
“She states that her life was relatively okay until a woman with blond hair knocked on the door, looking for a missing child,” Vince continued. “Carrie Ann says she recognized the voice but couldn’t get downstairs fast enough to talk to the woman. Her name was Chantel, Chantel Darling, a name that Carrie Ann recognized. She tried to call out to the woman, but her dad stopped her, distracting her with a doll, her favorite doll. He threatened to rip it apart if she continued to call out to Chantel, so she stopped. Once that happened, Carrie Ann was banished to her playroom, never to come out again.”
Bram took over, “Carrie Ann speculated that the woman had been her mother, and her parents got scared they’d find her, or she’d go looking for them. So, they hid her. Up until then, her life had been relatively okay. She’d been allowed out in the yard, and they’d play with her. She even had a cat for a while, but once they locked her away, everything changed.”
“I wonder if that’s why she haunts this place?” Luna asked. “She was trying to get her story out.”
As soon as she said the words, the fire grew in intensity behind Luna, and we yelled for her to get out of the way. I leapt for her and brought her to safety. When I did, the fire receded once again. But this time, we heard a deep, malevolent laugh.
One we hadn’t heard before. A laugh that caused my eyes to water. A laugh that sounded wicked and not in a good way. More like the devil himself had showed up inside Stoker House.
“Who the fuck is that?” Vince asked, but none of us wanted to answer.
WE FINALLY FELL asleep sometime around one or two in the morning. Luna slept on the sofa, while the three of us slept on the floor. Not very comfortable, but none of us wanted anything to do with the second floor or separating from each other.
Morning had a way of making everything that happened the night before seem like a dream. Even sex with Luna didn’t seem real in the light of day.
We were the only two in the kitchen, when I came up behind her, slipped my hands under the shirt she’d slept in, and cupped each naked breast, flicking her hard nipples with my thumbs.
“Can we do this every morning?” I asked, nuzzling her warm neck.
She leaned back and let me have my way with her breasts. It didn’t take long before my cock reacted to the moment.
“Sure, but that would mean we were living together, and you always said you liked your space.”
“I was wrong, so fucking wrong,” I teased as I slid one hand down the front of her pajama bottoms and found her pussy. She instantly pressed her ass up against my hard cock while my fingers pushed her panties aside and found her wet clit.
“All I wanted when I came in here was a cup of coffee,” she whispered.
“But isn’t this better?”
“Much,” she said, as I slid two fingers deep inside her. “I’m really sensitive this morning, and if… if you keep doing that… I’m going to come.”
“That’s the whole point, Love.”
She grabbed the counter, spread open her legs, and I pushed in deeper.
“Fuck, Luna… you’re so wet. So fucking amazing. Just let it rip. Let yourself go.”
“Do you smell the scent of roses?” she asked, a bit breathless. “It’s overpowering.”
I’d been too lost in the smell of her skin to notice anything else, but when I moved away from her gorgeous, long neck, there it was… the scent from last night, roses.
“Yes,” I said, trailing my tongue down her neck, then running kisses up and down that same path.
“Oh, fuck, Freddie,” she mumbled. “I can’t hold it back. You feel so damn good.”
“You’re so wet. Just go with it. Feel my fingers up inside you.” She shattered in my arms, and I felt her body spasm around my fingers several times. “Mmmm, there it is. That’s what I wanted this morning. Let it rip you apart.”
She leaned back into me, grunting in a high-pitched voice that combined with the girly laughter we’d heard last night. Only this time, I could barely hear it. Like it was drifting away or coming from another room.
