Diary Entry June 9, 1926 #2
I lifted my gaze to the inky darkness hovering above the table, the spot where I assumed Azra was lurking. “If you’re not a spirit, then how are you communicating with us? Where are you right now?”
The glass started to move toward the letters again, repeating the earlier pattern of an H, an E, and double Ls. At first, I thought Azra was attempting to greet us again, but the glass stopped in the center of the table, minus the O.
“‘Hell’?” Mrs. Semple asked.
Immediately, the glass shot across the table to the YES tile, a confirmation that made Mrs. Minafer gasp. “Gracious!” she exclaimed as she took her fingers off the glass.
“Don’t!” Katrina said. “It might break the bond.”
“That’s exactly my intent.”
I agreed with Mrs. Minafer. The fearful rattle that arrived when I learned Azra’s name had only grown stronger, telling me that whatever else they had to say was no good. They weren’t good. I felt it in my marrow.
By now, Katrina’s face was scrunched into a pout. “Please. I want to hear more.”
With great reluctance, Mrs. Minafer placed her fingers back on the glass, where mine remained. For better or worse, we were going to continue the conversation.
“I must say,” Mrs. Semple said, “I wasn’t expecting such a response.”
The glass moved again, returning to the lettered tiles spaced around the table’s edge. The first word it spelled was three letters.
L-E-T
After a brief pause, the glass veered toward two more letters.
M-E
Another pause followed before the glass indicated an additional three letters.
O-U-T
“Are you trapped there, Azra?” Mrs. Semple said, concern in her voice.
Rather than move to either the YES or NO tile, the glass continued to spell out the same three words.
LET ME OUT
It happened so many times that I lost count.
With each repetition, the glass moved faster until all of us could barely keep our fingers on it.
All the while, my fear only grew. I didn’t like this.
I didn’t like it at all. I was just about to yank my fingers from the glass when the pattern broke and it slid to an additional five letters, starting with the D, then the A, then the I.
I held my breath, my horror mounting, as I realized what new word was being formed.
When the glass stopped next to the final letter, Katrina read it out loud with glee, even though I knew very well what had been spelled.
“‘Let me out, Daisy.’”
Seeing my own name was too much to endure. How did Azra know who I was? Why didn’t they name one of the others?
Because it’s a trick, I thought. A cruel, cruel trick, likely instigated by Katrina. The others might not even be a part of it. She could be moving the glass all on her own.
“Why are you doing this?” I yelled at her.
“I’m not doing anything,” she said. “It’s Azra who’s moving the glass. See?”
She lifted her fingers from the upturned glass, which didn’t even slow down. As the rest of us kept contact, it continued to slide unabated across the table, spelling out my name two more times.
The glass then came to a sudden stop, and I heard a voice.
A horrible one. It was so loud and clear that it sounded like it came from someone sitting right next to me.
But the person beside me was Mrs. Minafer, and her mouth remained firmly closed.
As were the mouths of Katrina, Jonquil, and Mrs. Semple.
“You…”
The voice paused long enough for me to notice how strange it sounded. It was a mix of tones, neither male nor female but something in between. Like two voices speaking in perfect unison. The combination resulted in a sound that was rough, ragged at the edges, and, to my ear, distinctly unfriendly.
It was, I realized with horror, the voice of Azra.
And they were speaking only to me.
The horrid voice resumed, taking on an awful hiss as Azra finished the sentence.
“…will be last.”
Across the table, Katrina let out a startled cry before clamping a hand over her ears.
“Did you hear it, too?” I asked.
Mrs. Semple looked my way, confused. “Hear what?”
“Azra.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Mrs. Semple said.
“Neither did I,” claimed Jonquil.
But Katrina had. I could tell from the way she shook her head back and forth, as if trying to dislodge whatever she’d just heard from her memory.
Before I could ask what Azra had told her, a different sound arose—a deafening clap of thunder accompanied by a burst of lightning that seemed to engulf the entire island.
A white-hot blinding flash. With it came an electrical buzz in the air that made the hairs on my arms stand on end.
Within all that light and sound and electricity, we heard one more ominous noise, this time from outside the house.
The crackle wood made when it was being split apart by a hatchet, it seemed louder than the thunder.
The sheer volume of the noise made Katrina keep her ears covered and caused Mrs. Minafer and Jonquil to wince.
Even Mrs. Semple reacted badly, clutching at her heart and exclaiming, “Good God!”
The sound drove us from our chairs and out of the parlor. For all we knew, the house was about to fall apart right on top of us. But as we reached the door and ran out onto the porch, we all realized our mistake.
The house hadn’t made the noise.
It was the great oak in front of it, which had been struck by lightning and now appeared almost cleaved in two.
“That poor tree,” Mrs. Semple said. “It’s a miracle it’s still standing.”
But this didn’t look like a miracle to me.
As smoke rose from a large, ragged gash in the tree’s center, thick and foul-smelling, it seemed like the opposite.
Something unholy. As if the spirit of Azra were slithering out of it like a snake, sent by the Devil himself to destroy the Eden that was New Avalon.
Standing next to me, Mrs. Minafer crossed herself.
“Hell,” she announced, “has broken loose.”
Now I am back in my cottage, too disturbed by what transpired to sleep.
I can still hear Azra’s slithering whisper, making it feel like they’re here with me right now.
The very thought just made me shudder. Not having participated in a séance before, I don’t know where spirits go once it ends.
Then again, we didn’t end our séance tonight.
It was brought to a halt by the lightning hitting the tree.
It makes me fear that Azra could indeed still be on this island—and that Mrs. Minafer was correct about where they had come from.