Alexandra Sokoloff - The Unseen

“We want to talk to… whatever is in this house,” she said in a firm, clear voice. “We know you’re there.”

There was a long, deliberate stillness, which not even Tyler tried to spoil.

Katrina suddenly leaned forward and rapped her knuckles sharply on the center of the wood table, as if she were knocking on a door.

“Are you there?” she demanded.

Again, stillness. But Laurel felt something else in the air now. That quality of listening, of waiting…

Katrina’s eyes shone in the dim room. “I know you’re there,” she breathed. “I can feel you.” She leaned forward and knocked again, and Laurel saw Tyler flinch in his chair. Brendan was staring at Katrina, mesmerized.

“Talk to us,” Katrina commanded. “Answer us.” She knocked again, so hard that Laurel cringed. She’s going to tear her knuckles apart…

Katrina seemed oblivious. “Are you here?” she demanded. “Answer me!” Her china-blue eyes shone with the intensity of madness.

And from the ceiling, or deeper than the ceiling, from the center of the house, came an immense, hollow THUMP . The sound reverberated through the house, through the room, through Laurel’s body.

All four of them jumped in their chairs. “Whoa,” Tyler muttered, through a dry mouth. Katrina’s eyes blazed with triumph. Brendan looked stupefied.

“Thank you,” Katrina breathed. “Welcome.”

Through her fear, Laurel felt a rush of absurdity. Welcome? We’re the outsiders here.

“How do we do this?” Tyler muttered feverishly. “One knock for yes, two for no?”

Brendan leaned toward Katrina from his chair at the head of the table. “Were you here when the original experiment was done here?” he prompted her.

“Were you here when the original experiment was done here?” Katrina repeated aloud.

There was another reverberating KNOCK. Laurel could feel it through the floorboards, hear it echoing in the walls.

“Whoa,” Tyler mumbled again, and he looked a bit sick.

“One knock is ‘yes’?” Katrina clarified.

Another hollow KNOCK. Laurel felt her pulse racing, her heart pounding in her throat, the same dizzying thrill as being on a roller coaster.

“Are you a ghost?” Katrina demanded, her eyes alight. “It’s not—,” Brendan started, but another single KNOCK boomed through the house, silencing him.

“Yes,” Katrina said.

Brendan’s face darkened with confusion.

“Are you Paul Folger?” Laurel said suddenly, looking at Katrina. Katrina stared back at her without expression, and for a moment Laurel thought the girl would simply refuse her. Then Katrina turned her eyes to the ceiling again and asked in her clear, firm voice:

“Are you Paul Folger?”

Another booming KNOCK .

“Yes,” Katrina breathed, her face glowing. At their sides of the table, Tyler and Brendan were electrified, practically vibrating with excitement.

Laurel said sharply, “Wait.” Her thoughts were racing, questions forming. Now she spoke aloud, projecting as Katrina had. “Are you Caroline Folger?” she demanded of the air.

A single, reverberating KNOCK. “Yes,” Laurel said, and looked around the table. Katrina’s face was stormy, Brendan’s confused. Laurel felt an electric thrill. I know what you’re up to. She leaned forward on the table.

“Are you Alaistair Leish?” Laurel asked loudly.

Another KNOCK shook the house.

“You’re all of those people,” Laurel said, her eyebrows raised skeptically.

Now two thundering KNOCK s.

“That’s ‘No’,” Tyler said.

“Are you Paul Folger?” Laurel asked again.

Two KNOCK s. “‘No,’” Tyler repeated. He looked toward Laurel with admiration.

“Are you Alaistair Leish?” Laurel demanded.

Two KNOCK s again. “Are you Caroline Folger?”

Two KNOCK s.

Laurel sat back, and they all looked around at each other, stymied at the contradiction.

“Are you dead?” Laurel tried.

Two KNOCK s… then another.

So all it’s doing is playing, Laurel thought. Or maybe it doesn’t understand English. But she didn’t say it aloud.

Tyler suddenly said loudly, “Show us something. Show us what you can do.”

They waited in breathless silence. Nothing.

Katrina shot an oblique look at Tyler and leaned forward, her cornflower eyes wide and appealing. She said to the center of the table, in an enticing voice, “Please show us.”

The girl’s words hung in the silence, and the four of them sat poised at the table, upside-down paintings and shattered mirrors around them. And then Laurel felt something change.

“What’s that—,” Tyler began. Brendan held up a warning hand.

“Shh…,” said Katrina. Her face was glowing. Everyone sat still, not even breathing…

The air changed, turning both heavy and cold around them… and then the temperature plunged, as if the room had suddenly frozen. Katrina gasped and hugged herself. Laurel shuddered violently. All their breaths were showing in the air in misty white puffs.

“Jesus Christ…,” Tyler said, through chattering teeth.

And then rocks began to fall from the ceiling. Not a violent shower, but as light as rain. Large rocks, small rocks, fist-sized, pebbles. They materialized from just below the ceiling and fell softly to the floor, as slowly as drifting leaves. There was no noise, no sound at all as the stones hit the floor, not so much as a muffled thud. But Laurel could see that on the floor, some of the rocks were steaming, wisps of white mist.

“Oh my fucking God…,” Tyler said, from miles and miles away.

Katrina clapped her hands like a child. Her face was glowing, and she laughed, that tinkling, musical laugh. Brendan and Tyler were simply frozen, staring around in awe.

Laurel reached out as if in a dream and held out her hand. A rock fell on her open palm and for a moment it was light as a feather—and then all she felt was heat. She pulled back her hand and the rock fell with an audible thud on the floor.

“Hot…,” she said. Her voice sounded faraway to her.

Tyler stood slowly. Katrina was already on her feet, and she opened her arms as if to catch the falling rocks, embrace them. “Yes… yes…” Her face was ecstatic. “More!” she cried out. “More!” She spun in the room like a child.

“No,” Laurel said, and a black wave of dread crashed over her. “No!” She grabbed Katrina and shook her, shouting in her face. “Stop it now.”

Katrina stiffened in Laurel’s grasp. Her eyes were dilated to black saucers… but as Laurel dug her fingers into the girl’s forearms, she saw Katrina slowly returning to awareness. It was warmer around them—the intense cold was fading. Laurel was suddenly aware that it was pouring rain outside, storming, with thunder and lightning cracking through the sky in brilliant bursts of illumination.

“No!” Brendan’s voice suddenly burst through the room.

Laurel turned to look. The rock showers had stopped. The stones lay around the room, steaming, but still.

Brendan turned on Laurel and the rage in his eyes was terrifying as he advanced on her, through the rocks littered on the floor. His whole body was shaking. “What are you doing? Why did you do that?” He was nearly screaming at her. “What the hell are you thinking? We were there, we had it—” Even Tyler cowered back from Brendan’s fury, his eyes suddenly haunted, as if he were seeing someone quite else.

Laurel was so stunned at Brendan’s anger she couldn’t speak, but she was certain, certain, that it had to be stopped, that to go further would be to lose themselves in something from which they might never return…