~ Haunting Footsteps ~

by

Andi Pray

She opened the door to look down at a white shirt box with the words “Come Join Us!” scribbled across it in black marker. It did not look like Victor’s handwriting but came across as something he would do to entice her to have a little fun. It might also give him a chance to try to have her spill the beans about what was happening with her. She took it to her desk then stopped. Usually, she credited herself as one to never pass up a gift, yet with her experiences already in these past two months, she became cautious.
 What if this was another surprise from the one trying to tell her to leave in not-so-subtle ways? What if this one led to the fact there was something wrong with Alexis Jane? Should she call and make sure her daughter was all right? It wouldn’t hurt to make sure she was safe.

Then again, what if Victor really sent it? She hated this stupid paranoia. Every time something went wrong, or came up misplaced, she let her imagination get away from her. She, after all, was not in the “haunted classroom.” She had an inkling of the story behind it, but it was a math room… Jordan’s math room… Victor is Jordan’s math teacher!

How could she be so stupid? She never put the pieces together when Victor informed her of Jordan’s heightened participation. She tried so hard to push Victor away she did not hear what was said straight to her face. How could she be so self-centered?

If Victor knew this janitor “Ted” showed up the last time her world blew up in her face, he would dig deeper into what happened, why this hateful man was there, and what he knew. She wanted those answers also, but not at the expense of Victor finding out.

Get a grip, Kins, she told herself as she finally grabbed the box and opened it. Just open it, see what it is, and deal with it.

Inside was a load of see-through scarves of different pastel colors and a set of black under apparel with silver sequins around the border. She put her hand to her mouth to cover the scream. Not only at the old costume she used to work in, but at the black rose laid across it. This was getting serious. It had not even been one semester. How long would this sick person play his games? How long would the torment last before her secret past leaked to Dr. St. Mark? What did the principal have to do with all this, being Alexis Jane’s uncle, and what of the phone calls saying she needed to be with her right family? Where would this end?

Kinsey started toward the door, and yanked it open to try to find who could do this. She only heard a familiar voice whispering at her.

“Come on, Kinsey, this way.”

“This is not funny,” she warned the prankster.

“Come on, Kinsey,” the echoing whisper taunted and floated back to her, as though it were in the com system.

Impossible, anyone could hear it then, but it moved ahead.

Kinsey looked down the hall and saw a dark form turn and run away from the gym.

“Hello? You’re not supposed be wandering the halls.”

“Come on, Kinsey, I have something to show you.”

A man’s voice. A grown man’s voice.

The tall shadow ran up the stairs. She stopped. She avoided that staircase like the plague. “I won’t play your games!” she called and started to turn.

“I won’t quit until I get what I want,” he called back.

“What do you want?”

“Come and see, Kinsey.”

She hated the way the voice let her name ring. It tried to be silky, lingering, dangling bait to her curiosity. She looked back to where a few minutes ago she heard kids running around. Now the halls were dark and empty behind her. They were all in the gym enjoying their evening. No one to know. No one to help.

With a straightening of her back and a deep breath, she steeled herself for what this tormenter had in mind. She could not let this place haunt her anymore. And with the fact that Victor was now included, and Jordan’s telling of the ‘haunted room,’ she needed to know the truth. Was her ordeal with Mr. St. Mark the story behind this so-called cursed room? If so, she did not blame Victor for not telling her—even with him working so hard to build her trust again.

“Come play, Kinsey,” the voice taunted her again with a wicked laugh.

She took a deep breath before grabbing the fire team’s yellow caution tape, and moved it so she could duck beneath. As she raised her right foot to the first step, it felt as though her pumps were cement blocks, heavy in warning her, and not wanting to move.

A cold sweat came over her face and her lungs tightened, squeezing her breath from her, making it difficult to find it again.

“Clunk” her low heel resounded and echoed in her ears filling with her rising blood pressure. She froze and second-guessed her curiosity.

Her left foot felt just as heavy in completing her step. She saw the shadow dart back and forth in the hallway’s security lights and took another deep breath. With one last glance toward the students messing around the entrance to the gym and the doors wide open to show the yellow, green, orange, and black streamers and pumpkin face balloons decorating the gymnasium, she found him.

Victor stood with Margaret Gladstone, laughing and sharing punch, while keeping his attention on the students. Kinsey could only see his profile, but the smile at the fun going on sparkled as though the afternoon never happened.

Victor looked so handsome in his long tailcoat tuxedo, his curly hair slicked back. Then he waved to a student talking to him and his costume became obvious. He dressed as the Phantom of the Opera. The prosthetic scarred tissue on his face could have turned real that afternoon. The gauze wrapped around the palms of his hands, and his fingers were still tinged red—evidence that she caused this pain.

“He doesn’t want you, Kinsey, because he knows everything.”

She looked towards the voice again. Either she would win this battle or her haunting past would have a greater grip.

To overrule her feet fighting her to not want to move, she quickened her pace up the stairs to keep moving.

The laughter stopped when she reached the top. The silence, other than the resounding party below, created goose bumps up her arms, tightening her skin in a cold shiver. Her footsteps resounded slowly with each hesitant step on the linoleum. She looked at the nameplates beside each closed door, their own festive decorations hung around the diamond etched glass pane. With each door not bearing his name, her throat tightened more, and her head screamed for her to turn the other way. Did she really want to know?

Mr. St. Mark had taught in room 211, the fifth door on the left, with a set of bathrooms on the other side. None of the doors on the opposite side offered any comfort. She even saw Margret Gladstone’s as the fourth door on the right. She closed her eyes, gained her composure, and took the final steps to the fifth door.

Victor Cambridge, Room 211.

The door stood before her, a frightening dark threshold. The yellow tape crisscrossed to keep people out, though a small part of it at the bottom hung, torn away enough that someone could have crawled through. Her hands crossed over her mouth to control the repulsive taste trying to exit. She felt tears sting her eyes and she stepped away.

The memories flooded back to her in full force.

The yellow tape dissolved from the entrance and she saw Mr. St. Mark standing there the last day she trusted him.

 “Come in, Kinsey.”

“Hi, Mr. St. Mark. I just wanted to stop by and thank you for your offer of help with my grades, but I’m going to have to decline. Victor has talked me into letting him help, but I did not want to be rude and leave you waiting. Thank you again.”

She tried to turn away from him, but he caught her attention.

“Wait,” he said, taking a step out of the room. “I have a note for your mother she will need to sign. A letter from Mrs. Wood saying that your cheerleading events are on the verge of academic probation and she would like to have a parent meeting next week.”

“Why didn’t Mrs. Wood give it to me after gym class?”

“She forgot, and I mentioned I was going to tutor you, so she gave it to me. I know you like your squad activities. I would hate to see you, the squad captain, banned because of your math grade. Are you sure you want to put it at risk with Victor’s help?”

“Mr. St. Mark,” Kinsey gave a shocked laugh, and followed him into the room with her books in her arms. “Victor is one of your top students. Why don’t you trust him?”

“He cheats!” the man exclaimed, slamming his hand on his desk. “He cheats at everything. I know it. And I will prove it.”

The wild look in his eyes made her take a step back. “I have to go, Mr. St. Mark. May I have that letter?”

“I see you with him, and all the other young ladies are fooled by his suave English accent. But I won’t put up with it anymore.”

His advance on her was quick and she tried to make it to the door, but she found herself cornered. His easy long reach slammed the door shut. Her only escape cut off. The only entrance for help barred.

His hands were so rough, and she could hear her muffled screams, as repeatedly he demanded she was his.

A door slammed and Kinsey snapped out of the memory, her eyes blurred with the burning tears, and her shaking hands covered in sweat as they held her in the same huddle the teachers found her in all those years ago.

“He loved you!” Ted sneered in a low whisper as he came toward her.

 The room stood lit now with paint smeared over the walls. “I know who you are!” This time it stood bold, red and accusing. He watched her reaction as Kinsey pushed herself against the bookshelf behind her.

“He loved you more than that English bastard, and you wouldn’t love him back. But you could love me. I love you too, Kinsey.”

Kinsey saw it in his eyes, and the distorted rows of teeth. He enjoyed tormenting her. He enjoyed watching her fear and trembling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she tried to deny him any satisfaction. “What do you want?”

“The same thing he wanted. You. Your love. And Alexis Jane to be a part of her true family.”

Kinsey’s heart stopped at the mention of her daughter. How could he know? What did he know?

“No!” she screamed. “You stay away from her! You stay away from me!”

Kinsey tried to run for the tape covering the door, but he caught her arm, and spun her around.

“Scream for him! He didn’t save you then, and he won’t save you now. You belong to us!”