The Guest House Hauntings Boxset by Hazel Holmes (novel books to read txt) 📕

way, snatching her up and killing her, but the closer that Sarah moved toward the door, the more she realized just how confident the witch must have been.

After all, the witch had managed to draw her back to the house, bring her the orb, and to top it all off, she had come alone armed with only a revolver, holy water, and a wooden cross. By the time she reached the door to Allister’s room, the confidence that she had boasted on the way to the house and up the stairs had dissolved.

Sarah stood there, pummeled by the heat radiating off of the door, dripping with sweat. She stared at the door handle. She had no idea what waited for her on the other side, but she knew that it could kill her and that opening the door was an acceptance of that fate.

And yet, with fear eroding her courage and the heat pummeling her senses, Sarah heard the faintest whisper in the back of her mind. She didn’t recognize the voice, but she recognized the tone that went with it. And she smiled, then placed her hand on the door knob and pushed it open.

The door knocked into the side of the wall, and Sarah thrust her arm out to keep it from closing. She remained in the hallway, and from her position, she saw the witch standing at the foot of the bed, blocking her path to the altar.

The witch was dressed in a long red gown, and her nails matched the same fiery color as her dress, which was made all the more prominent by her porcelain skin and jet-black hair. She was beautifully terrifying.

Kegan stood next to her, a blank expression on his face. He wore nothing but a pair of sweat pants, standing next to the bed behind the witch.

“Curiosity always got the better of you.” The witch gestured to the pillowcase. “I appreciate you bringing that back for me.”

“You want it?” Sarah asked, doing her best to keep a courageous front, but her voice cracked and she wasn’t sure if she succeeded. “Come and get it.”

The witch smiled and shook her head, and then turned slightly back toward Kegan. “Fetch, boy.”

And like a zombie, Kegan lumbered toward Sarah, his eyes focused on her own, his expression stoic. Sweat glistened off his body, accentuating his already well-defined physique.

Sarah froze, her skin crawling up her back, and she fingered the cross in her pocket. “I can’t let her win, Kegan,” Sarah answered, taking her first step back. “And I know you can’t understand that right now, but I hope by the time this ends that you do.”

Kegan stopped, then smirked. “Iris is dead. She gave her life for no reason other than to end her own suffering, but she will have her punishment when Satan walks this earth. Her soul, like all Bells, has been thrust into purgatory, and it is there she will wait until my blood touches the orb on the altar.”

“So you’re just going to let her kill you?” Sarah asked.

“My soul will be the key to unlock the portal,” Kegan answered. “My sacrifice will be rewarded one-hundredfold when the dark lord revives me.” Kegan took one more ominous step forward, his weight thudding into the floor through his heel, and he grimaced. “I have no desire to hurt you, Sarah. And neither does my master. All he wants is to set you free.” He extended his hand. “Let him give you what you’ve always desired.”

Sarah regarded the hand, and for the briefest moment, she considered taking it. After all, the odds were stacked against her. She had literally walked into the devil’s den and knew that she was unprepared to confront the evil inside. Hell, she wasn’t even sure she would have the fortitude to give up her own soul to end all of this. What if she couldn’t do it? What if she died anyway trying to stop all of this, and it was all for nothing? Shouldn’t she at least get something out of it?

But then a whisper tickled the back of her thoughts. It was so quiet and faint that she couldn’t understand the words or even recognize the voice, but that little noise immediately calmed the fears and doubts that had crawled to the forefront of her mind.

Sarah adjusted her grip on the tube of holy water in her pocket and briefly lifted her hand in preparation to strike, then she stiffened. “I can’t do that.”

Kegan smiled and slowly nodded. “Then I will do what I’ve wanted to do since the moment I saw you.” He clenched his fists, and the smile faded into a snarl, but the expression wasn’t his own. It was another person controlling Kegan, working his mind and body like a puppet. It was the face of the witch that she was staring into. “Your flesh will be mine. Your life will be mine.” He lowered his voice to a vibrating level of bass. “Your soul will be mine.”

Sarah tensed, adrenaline coursing through her veins and pulsating in every fiber of muscle along her body. “Fuck you.”

“ARRGH!” Kegan charged, and before he made it two steps, Sarah pulled the tube of holy water from her pocket and cocked her arm back in anticipation to hit him with it.

But Kegan was too fast, no doubt charged up by the witch’s powers, and immediately knocked her to the floor, which sent the tube flying form her hands along with the pillowcase holding the orb.

Sarah gasped for breath as the wind was knocked out of her, and before she had a chance to collect herself, Kegan gripped her by the throat and lifted her off the floor and pinned her again the wall, which made one of the picture frames crash to the floor.

“You made the wrong choice, Sarah.” Kegan slowly tightened his grip, savoring the slow cutoff of air as Sarah clawed at his arm, choking to death. “You could have had everything you wanted.