The Wakefield Haunting: Finale (complete)

My brother was brilliant, the best of the best. Unfortunately, he was seen as weak by most of the world. He had his moments - his spirit would get so low to the ground he could barely breathe, or move from bed, and he became like a ghost in his own home. Frederick was afflicted by something, something priests couldn’t alleviate, nor could our father’s beatings correct. In those moments when the dark cloud hung over him, I would sit by his bedside and try to comfort him.

I was not brilliant, and that brought its own kind of torture. Even with my brother’s ailments and moods, our parents still preferred him over me. And why not? Frederick was smart, handsome, and charming, a prince by all accounts. Then there was me; dull, lame, and troublesome. Born with a club foot from birth, I was disliked. I was just a thing that ate my parents’ food and took up a room they could otherwise have rented. Frederick was the only one who cared about me.

Frederick helped me come to terms with my own ailment. He showed me that I wasn’t useless, that I could run, play, do whatever I wanted despite what was said about me. The least I could do when Frederick wasn’t well was to show him the same kindness that he showed me.

When Frederick met Emelia and moved away, our parents shipped me off to boarding school. I read Frederick’s letters, and he asked me why I had not attended the wedding. The simple answer was that I didn’t even know there was a wedding. No one had told me. Long before then, the bitterness and resentment was growing strong in me. I found others like me, boys who had bile built up inside them from being ignored and unfavored in this world. We snuck off campus to fuck girls in rented dresses. We climbed into dusty basements, where we drank absinthe while poetry was read aloud and shouted to heaven.

My parents came and fetched me before I graduated. I was labeled a bad influence, a distraction, and someone who would be a bane on this world. Mother was bragging about how well Frederick was doing. She talked about the factory, the house, his wife, and the forthcoming baby, and she hammered all of my brother’s triumphs into me like nails. She pierced my heart with all of Frederick’s good, sealing me to my own hatred.

I prayed for something bad to happen to my brother. I genuinely prayed for it! So when the baby died before it was born, the guilt that settled on me weighed heavier than the imagined nails. I wrote to Frederick to see how he was, but I received nothing in return. Months later, there was word of another baby, but it died too. Each time it happened, I wrote to Frederick to see how he was, and there was no word in return - until I found the box in my father’s study. The letters were there, all addressed to me, all of them from Frederick, begging me to come and help him. All this time my brother had needed me, and our parents had struck his outstretched hand away.

When I confronted my father about this, I got the response I had been expecting.

“Your brother doesn’t need someone like you ruining his reputation.” My father sniffed, looking down his nose at me. “You know how he gets. He doesn’t know what he wants.”

“It isn’t for you to decide! Neither of us are children that you can move like toys,” I scolded him. “He asked for me, and I will go. And if he asks me to leave, then I will leave.”

“You will stay here, Magnus,” he snarled down at me. “You will leave your brother alone, and your brother will return to his senses. No one needs someone like you.”

The first blow to my father’s head was out of my control. The second was my choice. The fire poker had been in my hand the entire time, and I only realized it with the second stroke. When mother started screaming, I silenced her. Her neck snapped like a twig. I wasn’t even aware she was dead until morning, when I had to step over the bodies to get to the front door. I burnt the house to ashes, and went on to find my brother.

Frederick’s grief had gotten the best of him, and he needed me to help him run the business. I took over at the candle factory while he healed. I threw away the letter informing him his childhood home had burned down, and his parents and little brother with it. 

Emelia was an odd little bird, but I enjoyed her company. It was easy to see why Frederick had taken a liking to her. She was lovely - a bit daft, but clever all the same. Her family held strange beliefs and practices that led me to believe they were not what they seemed. 

“More than anything, I want to give Frederick a child,” she confessed to me. “But I fear I am not a good woman.”

“What does that mean?” I laughed. “Are you afraid Frederick will leave you?”

“Not exactly, I just don’t want to disappoint him. I have prayed over this for years, ever since we met,” Emelia replied. “My father told me the right ones will hear me, and they will bless the seed that Frederick spills inside me. His blood will be my blood, and I will bear him a child like an offering.”

“My god,” I whispered. “What on earth are you talking about, Emelia? Is yours a family of demons and witches?”

Emelia looked at me with surprise. “I do not know who my mother is,” she answered in a blithe voice. “But my father told me she was the most powerful demon he ever bedded.”

I was not sure what to believe or how to take Emelia’s words. Her sweet smile could have expressed fond affection or a casual joke. The more time I spent with her, though, I learned that perhaps she was not playing when she said her mother was a demon. Looking at her sweetness and charm, I would never assume she had black blood.

Eventually, Wakefield was blessed with a young doctor, a man with common sense and a wealth of knowledge at his disposal. He gave Emelia a diet to conform to while she was trying to conceive, and another one when she did. Thanks to his miracle advice, Emelia birthed a beautiful baby girl. Frederick’s spirits rose, and he named the girl Sophia.

I was also struck by Sophia, and I became her devoted, loving uncle. I spoiled her, buying her dresses and toys, pretty things to make her eyes shine. All the while, Emelia fussed at me.

“A happy child does not need excess, Magnus,” she scolded me one day when I came home with a new teddy bear. “A happy child must have balance and guidance in this world. Too many gifts will only mask the world to them.”

“But I cannot tell my Ladybug no,” I said with a smile. I held Sophia in my lap, her platinum curls pulled back by pretty ribbons. She was almost three, and Emelia was pregnant again.

“A child should hear no,” Emelia took Sophia from me. “Trust me, I wish to spoil her rotten as well, but I do not want a rotten adult when she grows up.”

I chuckled. “Why? Do you want her to run the company like Frederick wants?”

“I want her to be happy, whatever she chooses in life.” Emelia tucked Sophia into bed, despite her fussing and protests. 

When Emelia gave birth to a boy, Frederick was overjoyed. He celebrated with wine and cigars, showing off his newborn son with pride. But when they introduced Sophia to her new brother, a look crossed her face that gave me pause. It was common for siblings to hate each other at first, to be jealous - but the look in Sophia’s eyes was darker than I expected. But then she smiled, cooing over how cute the baby was. 

By the end of the month, the baby was dead. Emelia found him in his crib one morning, not breathing. After that, each new baby who came into this world left it too soon. They died in various ways - dehydration, starvation, or simply being born wrong. Things would seem fine at first, but after a week, they started growing sicker and sicker, weaker and weaker. Frederick followed this as well, sinking so low into his depression that nothing could seem to pull him out of it. When Emelia died in childbirth, that was also the end of Frederick. He climbed up into the attic, where he hanged himself.

By this point, I had been taking care of Sophia, since her mother was usually sick in pregnancy, and her father was lost in his sadness. The two of us had become close and, despite Emelia’s warnings, I still could not say no to Sophia. After all she had suffered, all she had lost, how could I ever deny her?

Then, one day, as I was cleaning in my office, I dropped a book and one of the floorboards came undone, revealing a small compartment. Inside, I found bottles of iron and arsenic pills mingled with candy wrappers. The only other person who ever set foot inside my office was Sophia.

When I approached her about this, she told me everything. I had never heard someone speak so coldly before, and yet she said it all without any shame.

“I didn’t want them around,” she told me. “I didn’t want those screaming, yammering babies all over my home.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides, now it’s just us.” She came towards me with those big, beautiful eyes. “Don’t you like it being just us?”

“But this is wrong!” I cried out. “Sophia, you must understand this. What you’ve done is evil!”

“No!” Sophia argued.

“It’s evil! How do you not see what it is?” I started to cry.

Sophia looked up at me. “You can’t tell anybody. You know that, right?” She whispered. “Because if you do, then I will be all alone. You’ll be left all alone.” She approached me and took hold of my hand. “We have to stay together, Uncle Magnus. We have to, or else we’ll never be happy.”

I never spoke a word of what happened. It was my own guilt. I had killed my mother and father, never looking back on them. How could I turn on Sophia when I was guilty of the same sin? So she grew up, becoming more and more beautiful by the day. She was one of the most perfect visions in the world. She had a sharp mind and a quick wit, and she knew with guided precision what she wanted.

There was a young man I did business with through the factory. He was charming and handsome, apparently very rich, and a bachelor. Sophia had her heart set on marrying, and although I feared for the man she set her sights on, she chose him. The two started their affair rather quickly. He promised her everything, and in my heart, I felt he was lying. After all, I had made the same promises to girls in my youth. The world, the moon, all that she saw would be hers, because he loved her so much.

I tried to speak with Sophia about it, but any time I brought up my concerns, she snapped at me. “I know what I am doing!” she hissed. “I know how to handle this, so stay out of it!” She glared down at me from the other side of my desk. A smirk crossed her face. “Don’t worry, Uncle Magnus. You’re still the most important person in my life. Having him in it does not change that. No need to be jealous.” She said this with all the assured smugness of a cat, and it set me on edge.

One night, I awoke to screaming, and I saw a body fall past my window. I rushed outside to find Sophia laid prone on the ground. I caught the young man fleeing, loaded down with heirlooms from the house, including Sophia’s jewelry and wallet. We struggled and fell to the ground. I bashed his head against a rock, over and over and over, until it was nothing but pulp. I left him there as I tended to Sophia. She was still breathing, but I could tell she was in horrible pain.

I sent for Dr. Hidgens, who tended to her every need. She was confined to her bed for months, and it felt like an eternity. Before that, Dr. Hidgens helped me bury the young man’s body behind the house. I had long ago told him the truth about Sophia. My guilt overwhelmed me, aware as I was that Hidgens’ drinking stemmed from the deaths of the Wakeman babies. He did not know the full truth, though. I confessed everything; my own guilt, how I felt I was to blame for Sophia’s manner. Dr. Hidgens said nothing, and I feared this was the end, but he returned daily to check on Sophia as she was laid up in bed.

While Sophia was bedridden, I wanted to do something for her. I created dolls for her, to keep her company. I used the wax from the factory, making them look exactly like perfect little babies. Unfortunately, something about them awakened a desire in Sophia. She demanded more and more dolls.

Eventually, she called me into her room one day to make a grand announcement. “I want a baby,” she told me with a smile.

“But you have babies,” I told her, placing one of the dolls on the bed beside her. “See? I’ve brought you lots of them.”

Sophia’s expression became surly, and she hurled the doll across the room. “I want a real baby!” she screamed at me.

I was not sure what to say or do. Actually, I was - I would say yes to her. I would say only yes to her for the rest of her life. Even when she snuck out at night, I would tell her yes. When she told me she would do anything to have a baby, I just sat there as I listened to her stories of how the men in the town would do anything she asked of them. When I found the dead children hidden amongst the baby dolls, I did as she asked and hid them in the wax. When the men came into the mansion, I killed them, and I made more dolls for her. 

“The witch steals babies, the witch took yours. 

The witch will come for you if you don’t eat your porridge. 

The witch may look pretty, but I’ll warn you she’s not. 

She’s going to come and get you and put you in her wax pot.”

The nursery grew full, and the museum below was growing more and more popular. No one guessed that the wax figures were held together by the bones of those foolish enough to cross Sophia.

“It’s just us,” Sophia whispered into my ear one night as I tried to sleep. “This world is for us and us alone, Uncle Magnus,” she chuckled. “Don’t you see what I am trying to do? What I am trying to create for us?” Her lips were close to my skin. “I’m doing this all for us.”

Sophia was my everything, my Ladybug. I would do anything for her, but I was realizing that perhaps that wasn’t my will. After all, Emelia’s stories rang in my head. How her father had lain with a demon that birthed her. Perhaps the black blood was in Sophia. Perhaps it was now inside me.

Then, one day, a baby came into the world. They were small, weak, and barely cried. I held the child, gazing down at its red and purple face as it fussed with discomfort. Sophia had what she wanted. But much like the children she brought into the home, I feared she would grow bored with it and kill it. Holding this small thing in the palm of my hand, I did not have the heart to place it into the wax with all the others.

“I got my son out,” Dr. Hidgens told me. “I got him out of this town so he would be safe. I suggest you do the same. This poor soul is tainted enough. Get it somewhere where they might have a chance in this world.”

I looked down at the baby as their eyes opened, seeing a world of blue within them.

“I know some people, good people, who will take the child.” Dr. Hidgens said. “They will provide a good home.”

“Yes,” I whispered. “Of course. Please. But we must do it quick, before she wakes up.” I glanced back to the bed. “Now is the time.”

I thought Sophia would kill me. When she found the baby was gone, she tried to choke the life from me. Luckily, she was weak from giving birth, so I locked her in her room. Her anger bled into the house, and I noticed that things began to change. The unused wax was moving, and the figures in the museum would look at me as I walked by. I would hear Sophia on the roof, having found a way to escape. I knew what I had to do.

I went up into the attic. I knew if I came down, I would still never tell Sophia no. I would be bound to her forever, even in death. The world was dying, anyway. Wakefield was empty, and there was no one else for Sophia to harm. The factory was shut down, and my beloved brother was long gone. Dr. Hidgens had gone missing. There was nothing for me except Sophia, and I could no longer trust that. The world was quiet. I could rest.

I could rest.

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“What do I do?” I whisper to Magnus. “She won’t let me go. How will I ever escape?” I lift my head from the dusty floor. “I don’t want to be trapped here forever.”

“Sophia will get what she wants,” Magnus replies. “And I fear I cannot tell her no, even still. The only way out is through the front door.”

“I was just outside on the roof,” I argue. “I saw everything, there is no way out of Wakefield as long as she has her way!”

“The roof is not the front door,” Magnus replies.

I slouch back. “Oh,” I whisper.

“She’ll change the house, twist the hallways, all to keep you trapped inside. But you have to remember, the door is always there.”

Magnus turns his head as the attic door opens. A cold breeze whips through. and I blink tears from my eyes.

“Tell me,” I whisper. “Before I go… Do you know who my father was?”

I look back up at Magnus as he takes hold of my hands. “The man who raised you,” he answers me. “That’s all you need to know.” He leads me over to the door, then holds up my cut hand. “May I ask a favor of you, once you escape?”

I nod slowly. “I suppose.”

“Burn it all.” He places a candle in my hands. “Set fire to all of it. The factory, the house, the town itself. I beg of you, turn it all to ash.”

I squeeze the candle in my hand, and a small flame flickers to life. 

“End it, for all of us,” Magnus pleads.

I look down the hallway, seeing the world of blue stretch to infinity. I can hear the babies on the roof, giggling and clambering around, scraping across the ancient tiles as they try to find me.

As I take a step forward, I hear the burbling gurgle of a baby. “Mama! Mama!” The voice comes from the nursery. A giant baby head peeks out of the room. The massive cranium is dented and puckered in places. The left eye socket is empty and cracked, and dark blue veins radiate from it. It looks at me, blinking with plastic eyelids.

Clack. Clack.

I keep walking, staring at it as the eyelids blink.

Clack. Clack.

I lift the candle, running it along the edges of the curling wallpaper.

“Mama! Mama!” The giant baby screams and lunges at me. It pushes me over the railing of the stairs and I fall down, down, down. Above me, I hear the baby screaming. It reaches out, falling after me, wreathed in flame. Hot wax splatters on my face, and I hit the bottom of the stairs. I roll down to the cold floor, where I see bare feet standing before me.

“I told you, you would come down to me,” Sophia cries triumphantly.

I hold onto my side as I try to stand up. Wax begins raining down from above, enough to start covering my skin and hair. It is heavy on me, and I feel myself begin to slow down.

“Yes, my child, I knew you would return to me!” Sophia stretches out her arms. “Come to your mother. Let me hold you. Let me love you!”

I look at the candle in my hand as her fingers slide against my cheeks. As she grows close, I touch the flame to her dress. The dry old lace crackles and smokes. It starts to blacken, and the glowing embers spread across the fabric. 

Sophia’s fingers tighten around my throat. She chokes me as she wrestles me down onto the floor. “You ungrateful child! You horrible monster! How dare you do this to me!”

Around us, I hear wailing. The cries become louder and louder. Looking up through the wax, I see the figures standing and staring at us in the doorways.

“Stay away! I’m playing with my baby!” Sophia screams.

The wails grow louder and louder as the wax starts to pour down. The figures start coming through the doors as their wax melts away. Skeletons shuffle down the hall and appear all around us. They grab at Sophia, clawing at her and ripping her hair. She screams and screams, her fingers still tightly clutched around my neck.

“Magnus! Save me!” Sophia starts to cry. “Save me!”

Sophia is lifted off of me, and I start to breathe. “This way, this way!” I hear Dr. Hidgens say. He helps me from the ground, and I look aside. I see Magnus carrying Sophia in his arms, wax dripping from the both of them. Sophia’s blood dribbles along the ground as the skeletons continue to try and grab her.

“Magnus,” Sophia whispers in awe as her flesh begins to melt away. “You came for me.” She touches his face as the wax covers his rotted body.

“I will always come for you, Ladybug.” Magnus whispers.

Dr. Hidgens guides me along, and I continue to use the candle to set the house on fire. The corridor turns and then I step into the foyer, which looks untouched by any of the horrors I have seen. Dr. Hidgens is all bone, barely any wax left on his body. “Tell Charles I only did it to protect him.”

“He knows,” I say with a nod.

Dr. Hidgens pushes me forward, and I stumble to the doors. I push them open, gazing out at the world. The air is cold and dark, thick with the scent of smoke.

I rush outside, turning to look up at the mansion as it burns. At the top window, I see Magnus and Sophia looking down. Sophia reaches out, her bony hands stretching towards me below.

High on the roof, the babies are screaming and falling. Their melted forms splatter sickeningly to the ground.

I hurry away from the house, looking back to see Sophia still reaching out through the window. Her arms are open wide as Magnus holds her. 

I turn, never to look back.

I wake up some time later in a hospital bed. My skin is badly burned from the wax that fell on me. I gaze up at the white ceiling, breathing in slowly and making sure I am alive. I close my eyes for a moment, letting the tears slip down my cheeks as I thank God I am alive.

“Hey there, still alive!” Charles comes into the room, setting down a bouquet by the bed. “Glad to see you with your eyes open for a change.” He sits down by my bed. He seems to have a question on his mind that he desperately needs answered, but is too afraid to speak.

“Wakefield,” my voice croaks. “What happened to it?”

Charles sighs and looks away from me. “The mansion burned to the ground,” he replies. “The fire spread fast, took everything with it. The factory is all that’s left.”

“The factory,” I whisper. “It’s still there?”

Charles nods. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, it is.” He touches my hand. “But you don’t worry about that now. I think you have been through enough.”

I squeeze onto his gloved hand. “Your dad,” I croak. “Your dad said he did it for you.”

Charles looks at me with tears in his eyes. “You’ve been through a lot now,” his voice tremors. “No need to speak of nightmares.” He smiles at me. “But I knew that.”

I smile back at him. “I’m sorry this happened,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to drag all this in with me.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Charles replies. “I think it was time. Nothing left here except the nightmares.” He clears his throat. “Now, I believe, would be the time to move on. Get out of here and… start new.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I murmur. “What happened to Ms. Hasch?” I ask.

“She went back to the library,” Charles replies. “She told me she would meet me again.” He doesn’t sound very worried.

I ease back into the bed, letting out a heavy sigh. “I still feel like I’m not fully awake,” I whisper. “Like there is something I am forgetting.”

“I’d say that’s the pain medication,” Charles chuckles. 

“I think it was something Magnus said,” I sigh as I focus on his face. My vision is becoming blurry and there is a halo effect around him. “Something important.”

“Magnus?” Charles asks, tilting his head to the side. He cups his hand over mine. “He disappeared, remember? Maybe that’s what you’re forgetting.”

“No. He was in the house,” I murmur to him. “In the attic.” I blink my eyes a few times to clear the blurring. “He hanged himself because Sophia-”

“Calm down now, you’re shaking.” Charles soothes me. “Let the world be quiet for a moment. Let me go get you something to eat. You must be hungry by now.” His gloved hand leaves my arm, and my hazy vision clears. Something about his face seems strange, and I’m not sure I want to see it clearly.

I lay back in bed, closing my eyes for the briefest moment. As I open them, everything feels so still. I turn my head, glancing out the window to see the smoke rising from the Wakefield fire. Whatever was in Sophia, whatever Emelia came from, I pray to God that it is not inside me. I pray for this because now I am aware of it, and now, I am terribly afraid. 

The world is different now. It feels more open. I can see dark things in the corner of my eye, and I can hear whispers from the shadows. Voices that know things I do not, and whose owners have glimpses into a future I may never see. 

“Here we are,” Charles comes back into the room. “Found you something to eat now.” He sits down beside me. “No need to worry, Charles will always be here for you.”

I look at him, his face unknown to me, yet completely Charles. I look down at his gloved hand, and see bone where the sleeve pulls away. I take the food he offers me and smile at him.

“Thank you, Charles,” I whisper.

“I’ve been waiting on someone to return for a long time,” he murmurs. “I suppose it was always you, then.”

I glance back out the window, seeing the chimney stacks of the candle factory through the smoke. I chew on the food, not paying attention to what I am eating at all. I look back at Charles. He found me at the train station, as if he had known I was going to be there. He also knew his father - or at least, the figure of his father, was inside the house - but he said that he had never been inside the Wakeman Mansion before.

“Is something wrong?” Charles says, smiling, eager to help.

I shake my head. “No,” I murmur. “It’s just… I’ll need to find a place to stay. Do you mind if I stay with you?”

Charles’ smile blossoms into a grin. “Who would I be to tell you no?” He chuckles.

I nod. “Yes, of course,” I whisper. “That’s what I thought.”