Demon House: The Haunting of Demler Mansion (Penny Wright Book 3) Read online

  Demon House

  The Haunting of Demler Mansion

  A.N. Willis

  Copyright © 2021 by A.N. Willis

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Prologue

  I. Part One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  II. Part Two

  Chapter 19

  Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Crimson Falls - 1995

  Chapter 26

  Demler Mansion - 1995

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Shady Valley Camp for Girls - 1995

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Demler Mansion - 1995

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Epilogue

  Also by A.N. Willis

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Crimson Falls, Colorado

  Kacey Eckert threw the last of her gear into her backpack. Water bottles, snacks, extra batteries. Bandages and antibiotic cream in case anyone scraped an elbow against old splintered wood. That seemed sensible. A package of dust masks, which Hannah had recommended.

  Her headlamp still had the tag on it. It made a ripping sound as she pulled it free.

  Kacey breathed in and out, trying to slow her racing heartbeat.

  Her sister tapped on her door lightly, then pushed it open and poked her head in. “Ready?” Hannah whispered.

  Ross peered over Hannah’s shoulder, holding his phone aloft.

  “Hey,” Kacey said, “no filming in my room. What did I say?”

  Ross shrugged, acting like he’d forgotten. “Just a habit.”

  That morning when he’d introduced himself, he’d added, I’m a film major. Like she was supposed to be impressed. The guy thought he was Scorsese or something just because his YouTube channel made a few bucks in ad revenue.

  Kacey tugged on her coat, then slung the backpack onto her shoulders and joined the others outside.

  “You sure you want to do this?” Hannah asked. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

  “Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Kacey felt ready to throw up from the mixture of fear and anticipation in her stomach, even though her sister had been urbexing dozens of times before and knew the ropes. Hannah had explored an old tuberculosis sanatorium, abandoned schools and condemned factories. Many had been located in Denver, their hometown, but Hannah was getting more into rural locales. Less crowded, she’d explained to Kacey. More undiscovered.

  Shady Valley Resort sat on a small, no-name lake, with the mountains a faraway outline on the horizon. The only real attraction out here, especially in mid-November after all the leaves had fallen, was Demler Mansion. Exactly what they’d come to see.

  Their hiking boots crunched lightly in the gravel as they crossed the parking lot. They couldn’t risk turning on any flashlights yet; didn’t want to wake the lady who ran the resort. They weren’t supposed to be out exploring at night. She’d been adamant about that. A sign above the check-in desk listed the rules.

  No unregistered guests.

  No smoking within fifteen feet of cabins.

  No admittance to Demler Mansion. Stay outside the fence.

  No exploring grounds at night. No exceptions.

  But Hannah said that urban exploring wasn’t the same as trespassing. You were supposed to take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints. It was all about the thrill. Hannah had definitely come away with some amazing photographs. Her eyes came alive when she told the stories.

  Visiting those rotting, forgotten buildings, Kacey’s big sister had explained, it’s like seeing the world naked. Kind of ugly, but so honest that it’s beautiful.

  The night smelled of pine and cold. They crossed the icy grass toward the lake, Hannah leading the way. Ross held his ever-present camera in front of him, panning to take in the surroundings. When they were far enough from the cabins, Hannah switched on her flashlight, and they followed the trail along the edge of the lake.

  As they rounded a curve, Demler Mansion came into view. The house sat upon a hill, with white pillars framing its entrance and dramatic steps leading from the porch down toward the lake. Its pale stone glowed in the moonlight. Stone arches curved over each door and window. Kacey was surprised to find the place so intact, though it had been empty for a quarter century by now. Ever since the fire.

  Hannah played her flashlight over the vertical wooden slats of the fence. “Let’s go.” She climbed up.

  “Hannah, stay there,” Ross said. “Tell the viewers about the place we’re about to visit.”

  She spun and sat on the top rail of the fence, crossing her legs. Hannah smiled coyly at the lens like she was sharing a secret.

  “This house is where Edmund Demler died,” Hannah said. “The serial killer. He murdered three girls and then killed himself, all before he reached twenty years old. They say he burned alive. He chose that ending—like he knew that he deserved it.”

  Kacey had watched a docu-drama on daytime cable once. Born Bad: The Edmund Demler Story. She’d only made it through half the show before turning it off. She couldn’t take seeing those girls’ smiling faces, all around nineteen, the same age as Kacey herself.

  And Edmund’s piercing eyes, staring out from the screen.

  “Some people claim Demler Mansion is haunted,” Hannah continued, “but that’s just because it’s a ruin. Every abandoned building I’ve explored has a story to tell, and that past is slowly crumbling away. It’s eerie and unsettling to contemplate our own demise. People blame ‘ghosts’ because that’s easier than explaining the true source of their unease—the fact that, someday, we’ll all be dead and forgotten.”

  My sister’s kind of a badass, Kacey thought, before her anxiety kicked in again. But not because of Demler Mansion or its history. She was far more worried about embarrassing herself in front of Hannah. So long as she didn’t fall like a total klutz—and Ross didn’t get it on video.

  For the last several years, Kacey had hardly seen her sister at all. Their parents forbade it after Han
nah dropped out of high school and moved out. There’d been talk of drugs and boys and “loose morals,” like this was the 1950s. When Hannah left, Kacey had been thirteen, too young to fully understand what happened. All she’d known was that the brightest spot in her life had vanished overnight. Life without Hannah had felt listless, like all the color was drained away. Her parents hated Hannah’s absence too, especially Mom, but they’d been too proud and stubborn to forgive her. And like a coward, Kacey had followed their rules.

  But as soon as Kacey started her freshman year at the University of Denver, just a few months ago, she’d tracked Hannah down at her waitressing job. They’d spent several weekends reconnecting, but for Kacey it wasn’t nearly enough. Kacey wanted to share something meaningful with her big sister—become a part of Hannah’s life.

  This was her chance.

  “Hey Kacey, come up here with me,” Hannah said, still perched on the fence rail. “Ross, take our picture?”

  Kacey grumbled, but her sister shushed her. “Not for his feed, for us. Careful, there’s splinters.”

  She held out a hand, but Kacey shook her head. “I’ve got it.”

  Hannah wrapped her arm tightly around Kacey’s shoulder. She smelled like cinnamon gum and fruity hair gel, and both scents calmed the nervousness in Kacey’s stomach.

  They waited for Ross to set up the shot. He had some kind of fancy night mode for his camera, apparently.

  “Did he really have to come?” Kacey whispered. She’d been surprised to find Ross in the car when Hannah picked her up. Kacey had thought it was going to be a sisters-only adventure.

  “Ross isn’t so bad. We have fun together.”

  No details, please, Kacey thought. “I still wish it was just the two of us.”

  “But what if some ghost demands a sacrifice?” Hannah teased quietly. “We’ll give him up first.”

  Kacey smothered a laugh.

  When Kacey was little, she’d used to sneak into Hannah’s bed at night when their parents fought. I’m scared, Kacey had whispered, and Hannah would scoop her up and under the covers. Hannah made up stories about unicorns and rebellious princesses, petting Kacey’s hair until she drifted to sleep. Kacey had thought that her big sister was the most fearless person in the world. Now that Kacey was older, she understood that Hannah wore a brave face to hide the uncertainty beneath. If couch surfing makes the Olympics, I’m a lock for the gold, Hannah joked. And Mom said I wouldn’t amount to anything. She’d sworn to Kacey that she was doing great. She loved waitressing. No worries at all.

  Just once, Kacey wished she could be the strong one, so her big sister could rely on her.

  “Got it,” Ross said.

  Hannah stood atop the rail and leaped down, arms flying.

  They rounded the side of the building, and Kacey switched on her headlamp. The house looked different from the back. Soot blackened the stone around several windows on the second floor. A ragged tarp covered part of the roof, edges flapping in the nighttime breeze.

  A cold blast of air flew over the lake and pushed against their backs, speeding them along. At the back door, Hannah used a pair of bolt cutters to snap the padlock. The door creaked open.

  They went inside. A different sort of chill met them, the air dry and stale. Hannah walked ahead, lit up by Kacey’s headlamp. Her shadow stretched out ahead of her. Dark spots stained the walls.

  After wandering through several corridors and a kitchen, they came into a huge entrance hall filled with windows. Tattered velvet drapes hung on the walls. A chandelier made of deer antlers hung over their heads from a soaring ceiling. A grand staircase led up to the second floor.

  This part of the house wasn’t as damaged as Kacey had expected. The fire hadn’t touched it. A few pieces of furniture remained, tipped over or broken; picture frames still held faded photos inside. Ross wandered around, taking stills and video of each relic.

  “It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Hannah said reverently. “Sad, but regal.”

  Kacey tried to see what her sister was seeing. A sense of loneliness did permeate the house. It was like a film negative, with the light and the dark switched—instead of feeling lived-in, the emptiness was the dominant feature.

  This building still contained hints of the family that once lived here, the life they’d shared. Now, the home was shattered, a literal representation of the terrible things that Edmund Demler had done.

  Kacey’s feet shuffled against the marble floor, and the soft sounds became whispers in her imagination.

  Wait, wait, the whispers said.

  “They were all runaways,” Hannah murmured. “The girls he killed.”

  Runaway girls. Like Hannah had been. Kacey felt a tug at her center, a mix of disgust and sadness.

  Hannah spun in a slow circle, head craned back. “I can almost hear their voices. Like those girls are still here. Why is it his life people want to talk about, instead of theirs?”

  She started up the staircase.

  Kacey hesitated at the bottom, resting her hand on the elaborately carved railing. It was cold and smooth beneath her fingers. “Maybe we should leave now. We’ve seen enough, right?”

  Ross passed her on his way up, watching everything through his screen. “We’ve barely gotten started.”

  Kacey hurried after them. The light from her headlamp bounced across the walls and flashed in a tarnished mirror. When she reached the second-floor landing, Hannah and Ross were halfway down the corridor.

  Ross walked into one of the rooms, filming himself as he spoke to the camera.

  “Do you hear that?” Hannah murmured. “Like…voices?”

  Wait for me, the whispers said.

  Fear gripped Kacey’s throat, making it impossible to speak. What if there were squatters living here?

  Or a killer. Like him. Edmund Demler.

  Demler is dead, she reminded herself. Ghosts are just make-believe, like the stories Hannah used to tell. Her limbs felt heavy and stiff, but she kept moving.

  The walls in the corridor were warped, darkened by soot. The fire. The floor creaked, and the boards made a brittle snapping sound.

  Hannah walked into another room. Kacey heard Ross still talking to his camera next door. She hurried after her sister.

  Charred pieces of furniture filled one corner of the room. A breeze wafted through the empty window frames, carrying the smell of smoke, though Kacey couldn’t say if she was just imagining it. The scent was so fresh, like this room had burned only days ago instead of decades.

  “We should go.” The words came out like a croak.

  Hannah didn’t seem to hear. She stood in silhouette, facing the rotting wall. Its plaster surface had sloughed away, revealing wood and brick beneath. Beyond Hannah, the dim outlines of mountains stretched across the horizon. The moon gleamed, dotted with wisps of cloud.

  Kacey’s headlamp blinked and went out. Cursing, she pulled it from her head and knocked it against the heel of her hand. She tried switching it on and off, but the light wouldn’t come back on. The room was still bright with moonlight, but everything had softened. Hannah’s flashlight hung loose at her side, forming a meager pool of yellow on the ground.

  Kacey shivered inside her coat. She stepped closer to her sister, halting in place when the floor creaked ominously. She stretched one foot forward, testing. The floorboards sagged toward the center of the room. Somehow, Hannah had avoided the weak spot. She was used to exploring ruins like this. But Kacey didn’t feel safe.

  “Hannah, we should go back. The floor—”

  “He brought her here. But this isn’t where she died.”

  Goosebumps pricked Kacey’s skin. “What? Who?”

  “Tina.”

  The breeze turned into a gust, stirring up blackened dust around the room. The whispering sounds crescendoed. Wait. Please, wait.

  Hannah turned her head. Kacey followed her sister’s gaze.

  In the shadowy reaches of the space, something glowed. At first, it was a streak o
f silver. Kacey thought maybe it was a reflection from a mirror, or broken pieces of glass. But then the thing started growing. It was like the light of a train approaching in a tunnel. Getting brighter and brighter. She blinked, and spots danced before her eyes.

  From the corridor, she heard Ross calling out for them. “Hey, where’d you go? Come on, you’ve got to see this.” Kacey opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out.

  Ross’s words repeated, yet this time they sounded tinny and distant. They’d come from the wrong direction, an echo—from that glowing smudge of silver across the room.

  “Come on. You’ve got to see—”

  That thing. That thing was speaking, using Ross’s words.

  This isn’t happening, Kacey thought. This isn’t happening.

  Hannah crossed the room. She was going toward it. The silver thing moved to meet her. Reaching out.

  Finally, Kacey’s voice worked, though it was no more than a croak. “Don’t,” she said, instinctively backing up toward the doorway.

  Saving myself, she would think later, ashamed. Like a freaking coward.

  Hannah’s boot fell through the floor. She went to her knee, though she didn’t even cry out. For a split second, Kacey thought it was over. Just a close call.