A mundane, run-of-the-mill cul-de-sac had found its typically tranquil, monotonous nature in shatters. Following the death of one of the residents, some time had passed before her home was sold, and the new homeowner had slowly been getting settled into their new home. The former homeowner had no executor, no next of kin, and no known family, so her possessions had been auctioned off by a local auctioneer, however not all the items sold. Whatever wasn't sold was returned to the home, right where it was left by the former owner, which mostly consisted of dΓ©cor of questionable taste - countless pieces of erotic art.
All had been well for Scarlett - the new owner - for the first few weeks as they got moved and settled in until things had taken a turn for the strange. Items had been found in places she didn't remember leaving them, cupboards and doors seemed to be opening of their own volition despite their being no draught, and she had been hearing unusual noises - particularly at night - which had been getting increasingly more frequent and louder. She was also sure she had even
seen
something move by itself and sometimes had the eerie feeling that she was being watched.
Scarlett had befriended her next-door neighbour and told them about what had been going on, just to be sure that someone knew about it in case anything drastic happened - which, on this night, it did. This night, quiet up until this point, was pierced by a blood-curdling scream originating from Scarlett's house. That friend, who was fortunately home at the time, heard the scream and instantly dropped what they were doing, and sprinted out their front door. Their door crashed against the frame, swinging back closed behind them, and they ran across their front lawn and leapt over the picket fence separating their property from Scarlett's, and made a beeline for her door, and there were more screams before she got there.
Scarlett herself had not long gotten home from a quick trip to the grocery store, and she had not locked her front door yet, something her friend took advantage of. The screaming continued as they barged through the front door, following the sound of the shrieks up the stairs and then into Scarlett's bedroom, where they found her. She was in a frenzy, aggressively convulsing and throwing her body around the room, on and off the bed, and her friend tried her utmost to communicate with her.
"Scarlett?!" they said loudly, though she did not respond. "Scarlett!!!"
They shouted louder, and suddenly Scarlett stopped her turmoil and looked toward her friend. Her friend looked back at her and into her eyes, and what and who they saw was not their friend, was not Scarlett. They took a step backwards subconsciously, their mind telling them that it wasn't safe for them to be in here with her, then they retreated out of the room, swiftly closed the door, and barricaded it shut. This wasn't something they could do alone.
The friend ran back down the stairs and out of the house and made their way around the rest of their neighbours to get help, banging on their doors and getting anyone who was willing to help to come along with them. After a few neighbours willingly followed and more shut and locked their doors in their faces, the small group ran back to Scarlett's house, in through the open door, and up the stairs to the barricaded bedroom. They moved the makeshift barrier out of the way, then tentatively opened the door to Scarlett's bedroom.
They stepped inside, finding Scarlett hunched over in the corner, whimpering, her clothes no longer upon her body and instead in a pile beside her. "Scarlett...?" her friend attempted to communicate with her calmly, "It's Zoe, we're here to help you."
Scarlett's whimpering stopped, then she slowly turned around and looked at her friend, and still, in her eyes, there was no sign of Zoe's friend.
"Scarlett?"
She didn't respond and, a moment later - almost in a flash - Scarlett lunged over the bed and at her friend. She pounced upon Zoe like a wild animal, clawing at her, and the rest of the group immediately jumped in to restrain the mad woman. Scarlett was staggeringly strong - her strength seemingly amplified by whatever was going on - not to mention fierce, and despite their greater number, the group struggled to overpower her. But, after a short struggle, overpower her they did. Two of them managed to get her onto the bed and hold her arms down, while the other two - including Zoe - found whatever they could to restrain her.
They rummaged through her drawers to find whatever would work, eventually finding things that would suffice, and they frantically tied Scarlett to the bed by her wrists, binding them to the bedposts at the top end of the bed, leaving her unable to get free. The group panted as they caught their collective breath as Scarlett struggled against the restraints keeping her bound before one of them let their feelings be known.
"What the fuck?!" the man exclaimed, still wheezing, "What the fuck was
that
?!?!"
Scarlett snarled at them, writhing in place on the bed, the restraints doing their job.
"Somebody go grab a blanket or something," said Zoe, and one of the group set off in search of one, ransacking a couple of cupboards on the landing, and finding one quite quickly. They came back into the room, unfurled the blanket, and then placed it over the naked Scarlett because while they were protected from her thanks to the restraints they'd put on her, her modesty wasn't protected from them. "Thank you," Zoe expressed before the group's attention turned to her.
"Care to explain just what the
fuck
that was all about?" one of them asked their unelected but designated ringleader, with more than just a hint of exasperation in their tone, though Zoe couldn't really give them a straight answer.
"I..." she started, herself unsure what was going on, though having an idea of what it might be even if it sounded unbelievable, "...I don't know."
"You're her friend," one of them commented, "You know her better than we do - just what have you two been up to?"
"Nothing!" Zoe defended herself, "I've just been helping her settle in and feel more comfortable in her home, and been someone to support her."
"What has she needed support with?" one of them probed, curious just what the two had gotten up to since Scarlett moved in, suspicious that it was something illegal.
"Well..." she started, "Ever since she moved in, she's been experiencing weird things around the house..." explained Zoe.
"What sort of weird things?" another one of the group asked.
"You know, the sort of things you see on TV - hearing weird noises, objects moving on their own, doors opening on their own, feeling like you're being watched..."
"So, you're telling us that this house is haunted? That there's a poltergeist?"
"I don't know," said Zoe, "All I know is that it had not just been getting more and more frequent over the past few days, but worse too. Yesterday, Scarlett told me that she was sure she saw something..."
"Saw '
something
'?" one of them queried.
"A figure," answered Zoe.
"What, that of a person? Like a shadow?"
"Yeah," continued Zoe, "It's been freaking her out ever since she moved in, and she told me that she thought the house was haunted."
"Are we sure she's not just superstitious and imagining these things?" one of them tried to think of a scientific explanation.
"I don't think so, because I'm sure I've heard some things too, coming from her house," Zoe revealed, "Things I've not heard before."
"Are we suggesting that she has been, you know,
possessed
by this figure, by this spirit?"
"I don't know how else to explain it," reasoned Zoe, "I've never seen anything like it before."
The group looked at each other, and then at Scarlett - the bound woman still scowling and sneering at them - and they all saw something in her eyes that convinced them they were right.
"What do we do?" one of them questioned, none of them having been in such a situation before; it was the blind leading the blind.
"What
can
we do?" another asked, which was perhaps a more pertinent question. This was beyond any of their expertise, and anything more they did other than simply tie Scarlett to the bed could have dire consequences for all they knew - they dared not even
try
and communicate with Scarlett
or
the spirit that had seemingly possessed her. What little they knew about how to manage and deal with a possessed person came from Hollywood, and the accuracy of what was depicted in such media was likely dubious at best.
Furthermore, only a couple of them were religious, and neither of them really practised it all that much, so there was every chance that their faith wouldn't be strong enough to... do whatever it was they needed to do, and they didn't know what that was. So, anything they had that even resembled a fleeting idea was a non-starter.
"Didn't one of the priests at the local denomination perform an exorcism once?" asked one of the semi-religious two to the other.
"Oh yeah; Father Tom," they replied with acknowledgement, "More than just one, if I recall - they claimed to be a specialist of sorts."
"Can you get in contact with him?" Zoe probed, confident that this was the only logical course of action.
"Not directly," said one of the holier pair, "But I can see if I can get his details from my priest."
Said pair left the room to make a phone call, and after a couple of minutes, they returned.
"Well?" queried Zoe.
"We managed to get his phone number," said one of the pair that had just returned.
"What did you say?" queried Zoe.
"Not too much, we just gave our priest some spiel about a relative knowing him and trying to get in touch," they said, "I'll go to confession on Sunday to be absolved of lying," reassuring themselves that the sin was justified on this occasion. "Do you think we should call him?"