Spook_me 2020 - Haunted - Chapter 5

[m_findlow]

Title: Haunted
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Gwen, Ianto, OCs
Author: m_findlow
Rating: M
Length: 50,847 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for spook_me 2020 Prompt - Ghost
Summary: The team investigate rumours of a haunted house in rural Wales.

Jack reached for his coat, which he'd left draped over the low table in the middle of the kitchen, slipping his arms into the sleeves and stepping out through the back door where Father Michael was waiting patiently for him. Jack gave him a brief smile as he pulled the door shut behind him.

‘It's good to see you again after so long,’ Father Michael said, resting a hand on his elbow.

‘Likewise. I'm glad you reached out.’

‘Call it a vested interest. I would rather this place didn't attract quite so much attention as it has of late.’ He began to wander along the gravel pathway that snaked from the back of the house, past the derelict vegetable garden and towards the grassy knoll and the small creek that ran beyond it. Jack could hear the gentle trickling of water.

Jack's brow furrowed at the statement. ‘You thinking of buying it and retiring?’

The cleric chuckled good-naturedly and folded his hands behind his back as he maintained a slow, steady pace. ‘Nothing of the kind. I have a lovely little cottage behind the church that suits me fine. A big place like this is far more than I need. I've merely been keeping an eye over it. Most of the locals won't go near the place or anyone who associates with it, but there have been a few who have tried to interfere and incur the wrath of whatever haunts this place.’

‘Interfere?’

‘Loot, I should say. It was just the other evening. I finished my rounds for the evening and decided to stop by and make sure the place was secure - no windows broken by devilish children throwing stones, or rats burrowing a way inside and nesting. I came by the back as always and found the door ajar. I went inside and was accosted by two brutish looking young men who had obviously come to relieve the house of valuable items, but they must have only just broken in as my arrival startled them, and they bolted, crowbar and all.’

Jack shook his head at the madness of it all. ‘You know, you're supposed to call the police when that happens. Not try and take down two guys with weapons. Especially at your age. You're not thirty anymore.’

Jack could tell his words did nothing to chastise the aging man. ‘Neither are you, but look at us both here now. To tell you the truth, their break-in did leave me a little shaken. This place has been on my mind a lot of late so I prayed and asked God what I should do about it. When I woke the next morning my first thought was of you.’

‘I don't know about answering anyone's prayers. Not those kind, in any case,’ he added, giving a cheeky chuckle.

‘Only our heavenly Father can know the truth of his intentions.’

Jack stared down at his feet and then followed the curve of the gravel path as it wound past some withered gourds, left to rot on their vines. All the gardens were overgrown with weeds and their plants left to go to seed or curl up their toes. As much as he didn't want to believe it, he could almost taste the foulness of death carried in on the breeze. Everything here was dead and dying in some way, abandoned and neglected. He could feel it drawing him towards it, like death could sense his undying immortality, looking for a way to taste that endless buffet of life. He shook the thought away, returning his gaze to the trees beyond. He was becoming paranoid about nothing.

‘Who was the man who lived here? The one who hung himself.'

Father Michael lifted his face up into the pale winter sunshine as he pondered how best to answer Jack's question. Perhaps he was seeking guidance from above. ‘I don't know very much about him despite the years he spent here.’

‘He didn't attend church?’

‘No. I visited the house twice after he arrived to offer my words and comfort but on both occasions I was left hanging at the door. Not so much as a curtain twitch. I even wrote once, stating that he would always be welcome or that I could make a personal visit. All my attempts were rebuffed so I refrained from imposing myself further. Where he came from and how he spent his days in this old house I couldn't say, except to make the comment that the vegetable garden was magnificent. I suspect he desired self-sufficiency and solitude. I barely saw him pass through the town, once or twice to buy hardware supplies but never the local store.’

‘I doubt the locals were too keen on his attending church, either.’

‘The tail does not wag the dog, Jack. If I were beholden to my parishioners more than to God I should never achieve anything. But you are correct. His presence in Abercrafen was mostly felt through his complete absence. It made people suspicious about what he was doing up here. He had no friends here, and no one to mourn his passing. I could not say whether he was troubled before he arrived or whether living in this house drove him to take his life.’

‘But you still think the place is haunted.’

The cleric smiled. ‘I have seen too much in my life to discount anything at all. As have you. But I trust to God that he should watch over us all.’

Jack remembered those days as well, decades ago now, when both of them had been younger men, long before Elias Michael had given his entire life over to God and the church. 'I have seen too many things as well, Father,’ Jack confessed. ‘Too many indeed to believe that there is a God.’

Father Michael maintained his slow pace through the overgrown gardens. ‘That's where you and I differ. What we saw undermined your faith, but it only affirmed my own. There is much we cannot begin to understand. Only a higher power could master such a complex universe as that which we live in. My task is simply to live in the light of his creation and to provide a path for those to follow from this life to the next. That much at least I was able to do for him, giving his final soul over to God.’

Discussions of religion always made Jack feel uncomfortable. He’d believed in gods once upon a time, but very few had ever answered his prayers. He cleared his throat, keen to get back on topic. ‘If he was such a hermit, how did anyone know he was dead?’

‘He made a call to the local police station fifteen miles away. He told them he was planning to take his own life. By the time anyone took it seriously and drove out here to check, he'd already done it. I don't think he ever meant for them to do anything other than remove his body. Funny how people can be so courteous in the moments right before death, but not in life. Perhaps they mean to atone to God before the very end.’

Jack turned around and took in the house from where they stood. It looked over the landscape, set on the highest part of the low rolling hills. It was grey and green, ivy crawling over its lower reaches, as if nature were attempting to reclaim it. ‘You didn't poke around the place afterwards?’

‘I lack your youthful curiosity. Those who occupied its halls did not stay long enough to impart any useful insights. I am merely a servant of God. That is why I called you. Perhaps it is alien and perhaps not. Only a man who has faced death could know for certain.’

Jack set his hands on his hips and gave the cleric a thoughtful look. ‘Death and I are not friends.’ There were times when he tired of it, that endless dance they did without either of them ever engaging in battle.

Father Michael reached out resting a hand on Jack's shoulder. ‘Further proof that God has bigger plans for you.’

Next chapter...