Betrayal at shrink house, p.1
Betrayal at Shrink House, page 1
Contents
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5
A Note From The Author
About R.B. Ashton
Also Available from R.B. Ashton
Copyright
1
There could be no doubt that the vast mansion, of arched windows, peaked roofs and turrets, was a place of the greatest foreboding. The very hill Shrink House sat on was said to be cursed by the bodies of ancient burials. Though it loomed over the nearby countryside, it sucked away light and stood perpetually shrouded in mist. Following decades of mishaps, involving the gruesome deaths or disappearances of residents and staff, it finally sat abandoned, boarded up and overgrown, sealed behind chained iron gates.
That was until the night of October 31, 2015, when those chains rattled anew, in the slender hands of realtor Shauna Sashwell. She unlocked the heavy padlock to let in a purple mini-van packed with people. She waved them up the driveway and skipped over to introduce them to the property. While she busied herself finding the key for the grand oak double doors that crested the entrance porch, she flicked smiles back at the visitors exiting the van. Six of them in total.
At their head, emerging from the passenger door, was Professor Bartholomew Zarr, a pot-bellied man with a shining bald head, round glasses and a pale trench coat. He rubbed his hands together as he approached, and said in a slimy voice, “Yes. Yes, the house is finally open, let us in to enjoy its secrets.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will be quite disappointed!” Shauna replied brightly, pushing the doors in. A cloud of dust erupted between them, punctuated by a shrieking bat that made her duck. Barely skipping a beat, she continued, “The stories of Shrink House are very much exaggerated; it’s a perfectly safe and lovely home that has simply fallen into hard times.”
“I sincerely hope not,” the professor sneered, passing her. “I paid a considerable sum to both your blood-sucking agency and this gaggle of misfits in order that we might study the property this evening. I intend to get my money’s worth.”
Shauna lost a little enthusiasm at that. She had been kidding herself thinking that a wealthy scientist might bring a team of experts to this particular house on Halloween for any reason other than a paranormal investigation. But then, the professor’s entourage hardly looked like experts in anything.
Just behind Professor Zarr came Brock “the Jock” Drummond, a burly, chisel-jawed hunk in a striped t-shirt that hugged the bulges of his upper body. He gave Shauna a wink and a flick of his wavy golden hair, then stopped just inside the entrance to put his hands on his hips. A wide staircase sat opposite the doors, splitting into two directions as it ascended to the next floor. Four other doors led off the wood-panelled courtyard at ground level, separated by ornate furniture and creepy oil paintings of humourless people and their pets.
Most notably, a stone statue stood at the center of the hall: a classical woman in a flowing dress, arms raised towards a domed skylight above. She stood ten feet tall, and around her ankles stood smaller figures, cowering away as though afraid to look at her. Shauna wasn’t sure who from mythology it represented, but it was striking.
Brock said, with a voice that bounced confidence off the walls, “Looks like a dump.”
“Actually –” Shauna started, ready to cite the estimated property value, fifteen bedrooms and functioning pipework. She was interrupted by a woman slipping past, saying, “A place this old, it’s probably packed with antiques. I bet each of those side tables is worth more than your car.”
Brock gave her a disbelieving raised eyebrow. The woman, Valencia Shine, was young and beautiful, easily Brock’s equal: she had voluminous blonde hair, a good-humoured, sharp-featured face and a perfect body, curved at the chest and hips but toned elsewhere. She wore tennis shoes, a white crop top and a pink skirt, and looked like she belonged at a pep rally.
“Come along, come along, we don’t have all night,” Professor Zarr urged, already pacing about as though sniffing the air for clues. “I want each of you to bring me at least one item of curiosity in the next hour, before the moon reaches its zenith.”
“What happens when the moon reaches its zenith?” Brock asked.
“Exactly,” Zarr hissed, unhelpfully.
“Well, if you’d like to start our tour with the parlour to the right,” Shauna gestured, “I can –”
“No, no, nonsense, woman!” Zarr huffed, flapping a hand. “Forget what you think you know about Shrink House; there are no reliable blueprints of it and it is unlikely to follow the same floor plan now as it will in an hour. You see, we stand on a crossroads between realms, a place uniquely situated to manipulate energies we are only beginning to understand. So I have theorised. But tonight, with the stars adequately aligned, we shall start to make sense of it.”
“It is a bad place,” another woman murmured, drifting by Shauna’s elbow so smoothly the realtor jumped. Lady Millicent Maize was a medium, as made obvious by her ragged outfit of many layers of woollen shawls, decorated with fetishes of feathers and bone. She had a big nose, untidy braids, and a faraway look in her wide eyes. She focused on the statue of a giant woman as she said, “I can feel the malevolence here.”
“Well, follow that feeling,” Zarr said. “If it takes you to something we can actually use, all the better. I want concrete evidence of the unusual – something we can witness for sure.”
“Assuming the spirits are prepared to humour you,” a Scottish man rumbled in a deep voice; Reverend Insmere, short but broad, dressed in black besides his white dog collar. The reverend was younger than Zarr, though not by much, yet looked almost as fit as Brock. He scowled at the statue with a disdain he possibly reserved for all women. “Be careful what you wish for, Professor. The Lord may not look kindly on those who invite the Devil.”
“Isn’t your Lord supposed to look kindly on everyone?” Zarr sneered. “Now come on, quit dallying, that’s everyone isn’t it?”
Gail Cady shuffled in at the back of the group, a timid woman in a heavy sweater, hair in a plain bob and face partly hidden behind thick glasses. She held her arms close to her, eyes down, and looked like she belonged in the corner of a library. She smiled vaguely at the statue.
“We shall split into pairs, so no one is alone,” Zarr announced loudly. “One expert to each group. Priest, you go with the girl, and Mrs Medium, with the boy. The bookworm can come with me.”
Shauna watched mutely as the group divided with mumbles of vague agreement. She saw now that the professor had a carefully diverse crew: a scientist, a man of religion and a woman of magic, paired with young assistants who were respectively tough, smart and beautiful. Not involving her in the arrangements, they followed the instructions to separate: Milicent and Brock headed left, to search for the kitchen and cellar, while Reverend Insmere and Valencia went right, to explore the parlour and other living areas. Zarr himself was going upstairs with Gail. Seeing as he was in charge, and the man with the money, Shauna hurried after him.
So began a slow and meticulous search. The house started to reveal itself to the pairs, hinting at some of its former glory and decay. In the parlor, Insmere and Valencia discovered stuffed animal heads glowering ominously from the walls. Valencia found a golden knife in a side-table drawer, with inscriptions that looked very old. There was also a servant’s door, ajar, that led down into an unlit basement, which they decided to leave for later. Moving on, they discovered a library with shelves of books taller than made sense for the heights of the ceilings elsewhere. This room appeared to be designed for people bigger than themselves, and Valencia joked that she thought it was called Shrink House, not Giant House.
“Actually, the name comes from Reginald Shrink,” Insmere explained, clued up on his local history. “His family built this place about 150 years ago, and it was passed down from one generation of Shrinks to another.”
“Do you think any of them were therapists?” Valencia asked, but the comment did not amuse Insmere, who glared at her as if his disapproval could make her disappear.
Meanwhile, Millicent and Brock passed a vast dining hall where a table was still set, under dust and cobwebs, with silverware and bone china before throne-like seats. A painting hung on the wall depicting a battle scene where the people were wildly disproportionate. Giant demons, Milicent suspected. Brock thought maybe the artist just wasn’t very good with perspective. They continued into a grimy kitchen with winding galleys of cabinets and stoves, and there Brock discovered a drinks cabinet stocked with dusty bottles. Most were empty, but he found a curious one whose label read “Alco-hop”. Milicent suggested they show it to the professor before testing it. They then found lots of mousetraps by the counters, with no evidence of rodents. Milicent commented, “There has been no animal life in here for a decade, at least, I can sense it. The rats know to stay away.”
“Then what’s with all the traps?” Brock replied. Milicent did not answer, either because she did not know, or because the truth daunted her.
Upstairs, the professor and his team explored a series of archaic bedrooms, passing lacy four-poster beds and dirty mirrors. Shauna tried to point out how generous the spaces were and Zarr tutted at her to keep quiet. He was hunting for something specific, looking in all the drawers and opening creaking cupboards, but Shauna found it hard to bite down her saleswoman instinct.
They entered what had to be the master bedroom, where a huge four-poster bed sat at the centre, with a grand dressing table to one side and a woo
“A remarkable home,” he said. “Despite an elevated vantage point, you can barely see the lights of civilisation beyond. It is a place of its own quite unique power, which Reginald Shrink sought to harness. Though nothing has stirred thus far. Perhaps he did not succeed, and all its secrets have gone to the Shrinks’ graves.”
“I’m sure there are still many wonderful –” Shauna began, but Gail cut her off with a sudden yelp. Shauna turned to find the bookworm rising from the chest, hands tightly together.
“What is it? What happened?” Zarr asked, shoving Shauna aside to get to her. Gail took a quick step back. The professor looked in on the empty chest and frowned.
“I found it,” Gail whispered. The other two stared with concern, noting a change in the timber of her voice. She looked up slowly, shy eyes growing more alert as her gaze rested on them. Her whole countenance changed – the mask of timidity fell away, a stretching smile brightening her face, hair seeming longer, shinier.
“What is that?” Zarr demanded. “You found something. What are you holding?”
“Is the moon at its zenith yet?” Gail asked and Zarr flashed a glance to the window. Gail uncurled her fingers to reveal a gold-framed ruby, glowing with unnatural light. She whispered into it, words outside any language Shauna had heard before. Zarr tried to say something, but it was too late.
A flash of lightning lit the room, coming with an enormous crack of thunder overhead. Shauna blinked against the dazzling light and the room seemed to get bigger. She blinked again, dizzied by the sight. The walls and ceiling stretched away from her as she gave a disorientated moan. Her pumps sank into the carpet as the bed bulged to the side, growing big as a house, and Shauna stumbled to one side, away from the monstrous object. She was shrinking, getting smaller by the second! She shrieked and heard her own voice come out as a squeak, then turned towards the door – if she could only get out of this room –
Shauna skidded to a halt as a massive object dropped down to block her path. She swallowed in fear as she looked up the tree-sized obstacle of Gail’s leg. The retiring geek had changed, completely, in the flash of lighting. Her appearance was warped into something terrifyingly familiar. Her foot poked out from a long, black gown, in an elegant open-toed shoe, and a slit in the dress set some of her leg on show. The mountain of fabric formed a dress with a low-cut top. Gail’s much longer hair hung dark over her shoulders, with streaks of vibrant white, and a hat now sat on her head.
A witch, the word leapt into Shauna’s head. Gail was a witch. Worse, she was a giant witch. At least, to Shauna. And she wasn’t done: Shauna felt herself shrinking further, the massive woman towering even taller, stretching into the sky. Shauna cried out in panic, scarcely able to believe what was happening.
The room finally swam back into focus and she steadied herself. She now stood only four inches tall, with Gail’s big toe (with its sleek black nail) at her waist height. She was no bigger than the skirting board in the distance. The far, far distance.
Shauna turned, whimpering, for some sign of hope from the professor, but Zarr had disappeared. No – she spotted a flash of white material at the carpet level. He was as small as her, and was wandering from side to side with equal confusion.
“Help!” Shauna screamed, not for him, but for the others, in the slim chance they could hear her downstairs. “Up here! Someone help!”
Gail laughed, a booming sound that sent vibrations through Shauna’s whole body. The realtor looked up as the giant witch stared eagerly down at her. “There’s no one left to help you. With this, and the power of Shrink House, I’ve reduced you all.”
And sure enough, at the same time that the world had exploded hugely around Shauna, the same dizzy trance had gripped the other guests: Milicent and Brock were sent skittering tiny across the tiles of the kitchen, while Valencia and Reverend Insmere saw the towers of bookshelves become impossibly larger. They were all slowly coming to see a new, terrifyingly huge world above them.
“You’re trapped in my house now,” Gail went on. “And I’m hungry.” She crouched, her massive body drawing closer to Shauna. Shauna screamed as the witch’s hand stretched out above her, fingers spreading to grab her.
2
Shrunk so close to the witch’s feet, Shauna had no chance of escape. She tried to sprint, but the woman’s huge hand closed over her and Gail picked her up. Head spinning from the sudden rise, Shauna screamed and clung on to Gail’s big fingers. She found herself in front of the witch’s giant face.
Gail was equal parts terrifying and magnificent now: beautiful, smooth-skinned and with a sultry sly look her eye. Her white-streaked black hair was matched by dark eyeliner and purple-shaded lips, and from higher up Shauna got an even better look at how flattering her elegant black gown was. The sweater Gail had previously worn had been hiding a frankly formidable chest, cleavage on show as a rounded chasm beneath Shauna.
The witch did not dwell on Shauna for long, just a quick scan then she strode to where Professor Zarr was running for the bed. He looked like a rodent in a lab coat, scampering over the carpet.
“Not so fast,” Gail said, and brought a big foot up. She stomped her open-toed shoe down and Shauna shrieked a warning. Zarr leapt at the last second and narrowly avoided being squished. The jump took him into a roll and then he was up again, disappearing into the shadow of the bed. He ran remarkably fast for such a weedy scientist.
Gail snarled at being thwarted and crouched down, knotting Shauna’s stomach. The witch stretched her free arm under the bed. She snatched about, trying to grab Zarr as he hopped from side to side, narrowly avoiding her grasping fingers – acrobatic as well as fast. Shauna cheered him on, “Go, Professor, go!” He withdrew further under the bed, just out of reach.
As Gail retreated to sit on her ankles, rethinking her attack, the others downstairs were coming to terms with being tiny. In the kitchen, Brock had accepted the inexplicable shrinking and decided that their first priority was to get to higher ground. Floor-level seemed most dangerous, particularly with the mouse-traps in the kitchen. He hurried over the tiles, checking one cupboard after another, until he noticed a towel hanging from an oven handle.
“Give me a boost and I can climb that,” he said. Lady Milicent the medium looked both sceptical and harried, constantly looking at her own hands as if she couldn’t quite believe what had happened. Brock raised his voice. “Focus! If I get on the counter, I can get someone’s attention when they come in. Here, hold this.”
He passed her the Alco-hop bottle they’d found and jumped up to grab the fabric, then started an ungainly, swinging climb. Milicent watched nervously, splitting her attention between him and the door. She considered that a better plan would be simply to flee.
Retreat was Father Insmere’s first idea, too, when faced with the sight of books a story high in the already enormous library. Valencia started shrieking, spinning about in fear, so he took her by the shoulders and told her to get a hold of herself. They would head back through the parlor into the entrance hall, he said.
“We could be caught by spiders!” Valencia complained. “Mice, even!”
“Well, we still have this,” Insmere replied, holding up the gold knife they had found. He suspected it would not actually be much help, but it gave Valencia a moment’s pause. She nodded determinedly and let him lead the way.
It was a trek back to the exit of the library, faced with fallen books they had to walk around and a step Insmere helped Valencia to climb. He tried to look away as she put a tennis shoe in his hands and pushed herself up, her bare legs rising past his face. It made it easier that she stepped on his head, causing him to grunt and curse in an unpriestlike fashion.
But these trials were trivial in comparison to Professor Zarr’s desperate attempts to evade Gail in the master bedroom. She tried to crawl on her belly towards him, but the bed was too low to get under. She couldn’t lift it, either.
Zarr heckled her as he hid in the shadows. “Some witch. Is this the extent of your powers?”
