General Fiction posted April 13, 2024 Chapters:  ...9 10 -11- 12... 


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A trial among the dead
A chapter in the book The Unwilling Heir

The Unwilling Heir - Chap 11

by Begin Again


ENDING OF CHAPTER 10

As she rounded a corner, Madeline stumbled upon an old, abandoned building. Without thinking, she pushed open the creaking door and staggered inside, seeking shelter from the storm and praying Noah wouldn't find her. The inside of the building was dark and musty, the air heavy with the scent of decay.

His haunting laughter told her she was not alone.

Shrouded in darkness, a figure stood in the corner, watching her with cold, unseeing eyes. As the figure stepped into the dim light, Madeline felt her blood run cold. She cringed under his gaze, whimpering, "Noah."

He advanced toward her, his steps slow and deliberate as if savoring the fear that gripped her heart. Madeline's mind whirled with terror as she tried to understand what was happening. "Please, don't do this. You said you loved me."

Noah whispered, his voice a chilling echo in the empty room. "You said the same, my dear." He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her neck. "Relax. The night is just beginning."

*****
CHAPTER 11

Gasping for breath, Madeline woke abruptly from her deep sleep and sat in bed. An icy chill covered her body, making her teeth chatter as she reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on. The dim light illuminated the room, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The clock on the nightstand said eleven-thirty.

She looked around the room with her wide eyes, trying to make sense of the sudden jolt that had startled her. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her mind was foggy. She questioned herself, wondering if she'd had another nightmare.

As she tried to shake off the fog, a vision of Noah crept into her thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered his touch, his teasing, and the moments when she begged him not to stop. But then —

Suddenly, she felt a cold sensation enveloping her body, like icy tendrils wrapping around her. She let out a blood-curdling scream as she fell back onto the bed, pulling the covers over her head. The room was silent, except for her ragged breathing.

After a moment, she pushed the covers away from her face and peered out into the room. Her eyes nervously scanned the area, searching for any unusual movement.

"It was just a nightmare," she muttered shakily, trying to calm herself down. "Noah is dead. He wasn't here." However, her heart fluttered wildly, and her eyes darted around the room. She said, "There's no such thing as ghosts."

A gust of cold, damp air swept through the room without any explanation, and a sudden shudder coursed through her trembling body.

"Thump." Madeline ducked under the covers again, listening as the wind howled and something continued to thump against the outside of the house. The howling got louder and louder until the windows blew open. The curtains billowed, and shadows danced across the walls.

Lifting the covers to see what was happening, a sudden movement caught her eye. She gasped as a book fell from the table, breaking the spooky hush with a loud thud. Her heart raced as she quickly got out of bed and ran towards the window. With trembling hands, she slammed them closed.

Something brushed against her hair, and she spun around, but no one was there. An uneasy feeling churned in her stomach, and her breath caught in her throat as she struggled to control her fear. She stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, "Is — there some — one here?"

The room was deathly quiet, and the wind had stopped blowing. The clock ticked off each second as Madeline stood there, shivering, unable to move her feet.

A deep voice shattered the silence, "Do you feel a draft?"

The room erupted in laughter, a sound that made Madeline's blood run cold as she realized she was not alone. She tried to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth. She felt like things were whirling around her, touching her. She swatted at the empty space.

Her heart beat faster and faster, echoing in her ears, as she scanned the dimly lit room. The shadows on the walls seemed to move, and the hair on the back of her neck bristled against her skin. She stammered, her voice barely audible, "Who's here? Show yourself."

The room seemed to swallow up her words, leaving a spooky hush punctuated only by her heavy breathing. She could feel her mind racing as she fought to keep her fear at bay.

Her thoughts screamed, "Run, Madeline. Get out of here."

She bolted towards the door, her heart pounding in her chest. Her hands shook with fear as she fumbled for the handle, the cold metal slipping from her grasp before she got a firm grip. The heavy wooden door creaked open, and she ran down the dimly lit hallway, her breath coming in ragged gasps that echoed against the walls.

The footsteps behind her grew louder and closer, each passing second making her heart beat even more erratic. A single thought consumed her mind: escape. She imagined his hot breath on the back of her neck, and fear overwhelmed her.

In mid-stride, she abruptly stopped running, her eyes widening in shock and disbelief. A figure stood at the top of the staircase, waiting for her. She recognized the face, and her heart skipped a beat as it turned to ice.

"Noah? It can't be. You're dead and buried," she gasped, her hands covering her mouth in disbelief.

He reached for her, a twisted smile on his face. "You can't run from me, Madeline," he taunted. His icy fingers grasped her wrist, and she crumbled to the floor, her mind reeling with horror.

*****

Loud, sinister laughter awakened Madeline from her deep slumber. Her eyes flew to the clock on the nightstand. The hands were straight up — precisely midnight. She could hear voices getting louder and louder.

"Drink up! The night is just beginning," a male voice shouted, followed by another voice slurred with alcohol, saying, "Let the trial begin!"

"What's your hurry, Frank? You know she's guilty, and she's going to be dead for a very long time," another voice chimed in, dripping with malice. "We've got forever."

"Yeah, she killed our friend, didn't she?" said a third voice, filled with contempt. "It's time for her to pay."

"Let's not forget, she stole the Judge's property. No one steals from the Judge and lives." A round of high-pitched laughter filled the room. "Especially when they think they can steal the treasure."

Shivering, Madeline leaned forward, peering at nothing but darkness. Still, she declared loudly, "You can stop your nonsense because I don't believe in ghosts."

A roar of raucous laughter bounced from every corner of the room. "She doesn't believe in ghosts."

A yellow glow filled the room, illuminating a room full of people dressed in various stages of clothing. The women wore delicate lingerie, and the men sported everything from immaculate suits to casual jeans.

In her usual snobby way, Madeline approached the situation with haughty anger. "The jokes are over! Does this look like a bordello?" She scowled, "Take your celebration and get out! I'm going to sleep."

Kitty, the group's ringleader, strolled to the bed with a coy smile. "Well, well, well, it looks like our Sleeping Beauty has awakened," she purred, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's not a celebration, deary. It's your trial. And there will be no more sleeping for you."

Madeline's bravado dissipated as she recognized the woman standing before her. "Kitty?" she gasped in disbelief.

She moved to get out of bed, but Kitty grabbed her arm with a vice-like grip. "Oh no, you don't. You're not going anywhere until you pay your dues," she said with a wicked smile.

Madeline struggled against her, trying to break free, but Kitty's hold was too strong.

"Let go of me," Madeline cried. She rubbed her eyes and stared at the vision in front of her. "This is a dream, and I want it to stop. You died, and so did Maggie."

A woman suddenly appeared next to Kitty. "Did someone mention my name?" She giggled at Kitty and then turned to face Madeline, sneering, "Yes, I died, but you never shed a tear. You thought you were better than us, stealing Noah from the Madam. All you wanted was his money, not his love. Though I did hear that you were begging for it earlier tonight." Kitty and Maggie snickered, sharing knowing glances.

An evil gleam appeared in Maggie's eye. "I don't care how she treated me, but we have time on our hands while we wait for the Judge. Maybe we should pay her back for taunting Teresa when she lost her hair from cancer."

"Great idea!" A scissor magically appeared in Kitty's hand. She leaned toward Madeline, muttering, "Chop, Chop!"

Maggie grasped a clump of Madeline's hair in her hand, laughing. "Cut it good and short. Or better yet, we could shave it."

Madeline tried pulling away as she screamed, "No, stop it!" She jumped back on the bed, shivering in fear. Her hands covered her long locks of hair.

"Do it! Do it!" rose from the group of men as they stomped their shoes against the wood floors.

Madeline struggled to escape but was no match for the two women. "Hold her in front of the mirror so she can see those perfect locks fall to the floor, piece by piece."

A male voice yelled across the room. "Make her cut it herself. She'll whine like a baby, and we can laugh at her like she laughed at Teresa."

Tears streamed down Madeline's face. "No, you can't. I never meant to hurt her, but she looked weird with no hair."

"And so will you." Maggie held the scissors out, but Madeline refused to take them.

Kitty held her, and Maggie began to cut chunks of hair, letting it fall to the floor while laughter filled the room. Madeline cried in fear and agony. "Please, don't do this. I'm begging you."

Suddenly, the laughter faded, and a stillness filled the room. A man stood in the center of the room, a gavel in his hand. "Enough! This is a trial, not a child's playground."

His gavel echoed in the room as the Judge called out the accused's name. "Madeline Wakefield, you have many crimes to pay for, but tonight, you stand trial for the death of Noah Wakefield and the theft of Judge Parker's book. What say you?"

Madeline cried, "No, it wasn't me. There are others in this house — maybe the housekeeper or that woman who says she is a reporter. You must believe me. I didn't do it. I'm the grieving widow, and I've been left penniless."

Kitty let out a mocking laugh. "Oh, dear Madeline, always the drama queen. You can try to spin your tales, but we know the truth. You and your lover are responsible."

"How can you say that?" Madeline's voice trembled as she addressed the ghostly figure before her. "I'm not guilty."

Kitty's voice was bitter and menacing as she spoke up again. "We're here to remind you, Madeline. You may have turned your back on us, but your past sins will always haunt you."

Maggie's laughter echoed through the room, cruel and mocking, as she spoke with a sharpness that cut through the air. "You can't escape the truth, Madeline. You can't run from what you've done. We know!"

Madeline's body froze with fear, and she felt a cold sweat on her skin. The shadows seemed to close around her, suffocating her with their accusing silence. She struggled to find her voice as she protested, her words barely louder than a whisper. "I — I didn't kill anyone. I was just a witness." She swallowed hard, and then her words tumbled from her mouth. "The sheriff, he was the one who put the medicine in Noah's whiskey."

The room fell silent as Madeline made her confession. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air. Kitty and Maggie's figures seemed to fade in the darkness, their accusing eyes disappearing like shadows in the night.

Tears streamed down Madeline's face as she realized she had to tell the truth if she was going to survive the night.

"I didn't do it. It was the sheriff. He said if I didn't do what he wanted, he would arrest me and say I killed Noah," she stammered, her voice trembling with fear. "He hid the pills in my drawer."

The Judge looked at her intensely and asked, "Why was the sheriff in your bedroom? Were you two lovers? Did you plan this together, hoping to gain the mansion and the treasures hidden within its walls?"

"After reading some of Noah's papers, I discovered the mansion's secret. The sheriff and I became friendly, and he convinced me I needed his help to find the treasure. I didn't realize his intentions until I was in too deep." Madeline wailed, "I wanted the treasure, but I meant no harm to Noah." She rushed toward the bed and frantically searched for the book that had caused all the trouble. Finally, she found it under the covers and handed it to the Judge. "Here, take the book back. I'll leave town and never return. I'll do whatever you ask, but please, end this torment," she pleaded, hoping that the Judge would believe her and put an end to the nightmare.

Before he could answer, a sharp knock on the door interrupted the chaos. The sound reverberated through the space, causing a momentary hush to fall over the group. Madeline's heart leaped with hope of a rescue from this nightmare, and she cried out, "Help! Someone, please help me!"

"Silence," the Judge snapped. She cringed under his cold stare and closed her mouth.

The door creaked open, revealing a figure standing in the doorway. Madeline shivered as she recognized the silhouette of the sheriff. But this was not the regular sheriff as she had known him. His eyes glowed with a sinister light, and his face was devoid of emotion except a twisted, evil grin. Madeline shrank away from the figure, overcome with terror.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here," the sheriff drawled, his voice dripping with venom. "Seems like we have a little party going on in Madeline's bedroom. And I wasn't invited."

"It's not —" One look at the Judge and Madeline moved away toward her bed.

The Judge grinned at the sheriff. "You are mistaken. Tonight, you are the guest of honor, and I have the privilege of delivering your reward." The Judge moved closer to the man, smiling, but his eyes said something entirely different. "You have been cast out of purgatory, and your eternal abode shall be in hell."

The sheriff gasped at the Judge's words. "No, let me explain," the accused pleaded. "It's all her fault. She did this."

Without uttering a word, the Judge placed his hand on the sheriff's shoulder. Flames seared his shirt. The man screamed and fell to his knees, writhing in pain.

"You knew the rules, and you broke them. One chance, no more." He shook his head.

"But she —" the accused tried to protest.

The Judge shrugged his shoulders. "I have no jurisdiction over mortals, but you —" With a simple nod, a bevy of spiritual bodies surrounded the sheriff, ripping at his body and howling like the wind. Hundreds of bats appeared from nowhere, biting and clawing at the doomed man.

A black cloak of darkness surrounded him as he pleaded, "No, give me a chance." His words gurgled in his throat until he couldn't breathe anymore. His body jerked and then ceased to move.

The Judge turned his back on the lifeless body, murmuring, "You've had your last chance. May you burn in hell."

The body was yanked through the wall, disappearing into the dark, and a deathly bone-chilling scream rattled the room.

Madeline shrank against the wall, fearing what would come next.




Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Les - Sandra's boss
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - The Hitman
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
The Familiar Stranger
Kitty, Maggie, Frank, Teresa - ghosts from Madeline's past
The sheriff - An evil man given one last chance to change his ways
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