June giggled, it felt like she was becoming the ghost, not so much that she was seeing them. “Nope, saw no ghosts,” she said, gathering herself mentally. Trying to deflect his attention, she walked to the stairs, asking, “I saw the door to the basement, are there any tools? I have a few friends that might be interested to swing by.” When she reached the the first floor, she turned to the closed, plain door.
Devlin smoothly stepped in front of her. “I am afraid that part of the house is off limits to visitors at this time. Besides, most of the tools would be of no use to your friends. They are quite out of date.”
June was secretly glad she wasn’t allowed through that door. The events she had been part of were quite enough for her first estate sale. She reached out to rest her hand on the railing to the staircase while she got ready to start haggling the price of the pot..
~“Where is he!?!” The voice bellowed from the entrance to the house. “You are hiding that demon in your house! Bring him out so he can face the consequences of his decisions!”
Mr. Charles calmly loaded the second barrel of the other rifle as he braced his hip against the balustrade overlooking the foyer of the house. This was his house, dammit. No outsider was going to tell him who he can and cannot have in his house. Sure as hell, he was NOT going to give in to a loudmouth that was too scared to come into the building to do the dirty work himself.
“I would think that you were smart enough to know that I am not going to do it. I don’t know why you must go and show your lack of sense by asking that again!” Charles checked the pistol at his hip. It was loaded and not caught on any clothing if he needed it in a hurry. “I had just finished dinner, and had gone to get a book when you came at my door like this.”
Mr. Charles noted that the latch would need replacing, and the edging, as it splintered when they kicked in the door. He was not yet more than annoyed, and had only raised his voice to be heard outside.
“If you don’t come out, then we will be forced to go in after him! Don’t let this get any worse than it already has!”
“I don’t think that idea, gentlemen. You are not at a tactical advantage. Go away, and it will be forgotten.” Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his wife behind the front door. She must have been going to open it when they kicked it in. He tried to wave to her to get back, but she got confused in the commotion and tried to come out to face the men at the door.
“What on earth are you men talking abo..” The back of her dress turned bright red as she was knocked back to the stairs by the force of the gun blast. Mr. Charles screamed in horror. Someone outside shouted to stop shooting. But the damage was done.
Enraged, Mr. Charles dropped to the floor at the top of the stairs, and began unloading every barrel of the guns he had by his side. Several men died instantly, others screamed in agony as they were pulled to safety.
“Get out! If anyone ever steps foot on this property again, I will not give you warning, you will be killed on sight!” As the men outside retreated and headed away, Mr. Charles ran down the stairs to hold his wife as the last of the blood drained from her body.
“Mr. Charles, I am sorry to interrupt, but what do you want me to do about the bodies on the porch?” Abrahm knew that there were no words to console his boss, and anything said would just make it hurt more. Business must still continue.
With a quiet, almost broken voice, he replied, “They came as a witch hunt, then I will end it as one… Drag them into town on the old hay cart. Set the cart ablaze before you get there, and don’t get caught.” With that, he started to sob uncontrollably.
“Yes sir”
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