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Ghosts of Blackwell The Return

 

Ghosts of Blackwell Book Two: The Return

By S.M.Bysh

Published by S.M.Bysh at Shakespir

Copyright 2015 S.M.Bysh

Shakespir Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Shakespir.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Note: The people and towns based in real life Scotland are not real and are a work of fiction.

One-Hundred-Fifty years later… October 31st 1934.

It’s 6 years before the beginning of the 2nd world war and Europe’s great economic crisis…

Twenty-four hours earlier…

Glistening sunlight perches in the azure blue skies as it hit an old colorful mosaic table where her coffee sits. Bare lips and coffee stained teeth bite down on her favorite lemon shortbread, as a young redhead rubs the crumbs off her as curls straggling down by her silver polished nails. An industrious gentleman collided with her table as he steered toward the cafe doors, spilling the coffee all over. ? Oh No, Bloody Nora! Pah my sincerest apologies miss, for not paying attention to where I was going.” he mumbled reaching for the nearest stack of kerchiefs as Amelia wiped her shirt chortling. ? Sir, it is quite all right. I have already spilled coffee among other things on this shirt this week alone. So really its not your fault, no harm, no foul. And at least the table didn’t topple over” With a chagrined look on his face and tip of his hat without a word walks away heading for the furthest table out of sight. Standing up out of her chair, she hunches over the big table checking. Tilting her head furrow her brows after realizing five minutes later she obsessed over nothing and sat back down to finish breakfast.

Twenty-four hours later………………….

Castles and seas of green vegetation and flowers of Heather and Honeysuckle blanket the Irish countryside’s from east to west, north to south. In a small place called Dunmalochan, Scotland, an abandoned looking train station sits alone alongside tracks and old empty mine, in the middle of nowhere surrounded by weeds and flowers. Dog-roses, greenish-yellow grass, dances wildly in the savage winds the skies dark as night with sheets of rain, heavy enough to blind a person where they stand, the splatt, splatt, splatt, of lightening bolts cascade across the landscape.

The schwump, schwump, schwump of windshield wipers fill up the whisper of thumping raindrops pounding the murky glass as a black car sped down a desolate muddy road, trying to turn up another station open on this terrible day, warmth from the car heater floats across the white leather seating as the cold settles to the surface of the beige dashboard. The shiny chrome of the bumpers reflect on the lights as the headlights tries to smash through the darkness while Amelia’s sapphire blue eyes gaze out the window, something grasps onto the cars rear bumper tight.

Unable to see anything attempts to step on gas hopeful to escape the phantasm that held on to the car. Unaware of the husky presence materialize close by begins acceleration again the phantom mirage in the rain lets go leave her barreling out on an isolated road at high velocity!

Whoa what was that blasted thing! She said looking behind her.

I arrive at a strange looking building that appears to be a rather dilapidated eyesore to leave for London, in the hopes to sell my first handmade purses. To local shops.

The barrage soaks me to the bone as I race in freezing on this late October morning. Mentally scolding myself for letting it slip my mind to bring my umbrella, dripping my way across the dusty floor, while everyone stares with exceeding intensity. ? Amelia handed money to the man in the ticket booth, whose name tag declared him to be Mr. Abner G. McGregor crinkled his nose at the dreadful weather gazing toward the door, noticed a burly older gent arrive from out of thin air and without a drop of moisture on his clothes. As Amelia remained unaware while standing at the ticket booth.

Bloody Nora! The blasted cloudbursts now coming down even harder than ever!?

Checking the dusty clock that hung on the wall as she tried to dry herself and her baggage off, grimaced and grumbled with impatience uttering, I hope the bloody trains still arriving at nine-thirty!

Mr. McGregor came on the speaker as she strolled away: Welcome to Blackwell Station. Due to the vicious conditions outside, with worsened foreseen tonight, all scheduled departures and arrivals now canceled until further notice!

I am afraid that the country roads leading back toward the city have flooded out my sincerest apologies, but you are stuck here for tonight.

We regret the inconvenience this caused everyone. For a moment, Amelia glared with petulance in her eyes toward the doorway; as the clerk went off the loudspeaker systems. Exasperate sighs… Pffft! What else can go wrong now! Folks that remained lodged at the station snarled and cursed the rain, ready to yank their hair! Others picked up their bags were quick to leave. Amelia moves toward the nearest bench, as the mysterious older gent collided with her, inducing her to about trip and spill her possessions on the dusty floor.

Apologize generously aiding in picking up things, as she put them back into her purse did not seem to react to her soaked clothing as he helped Amelia to her feet. Quiver with laughter. So much for polite introductions. My name is Darren, Darren Randall Duncan. Please, call me Darren and you are?

Running a hand through her curls hesitated a moment.

“Amelia… Sinclair Stirling.” She said. Where are you traveling too, sir, I mean Darren?”

Arms cross while looking down. I don’t like taking trains. I prefer traveling by foot, if it’s not very far otherwise stay put where I am, which happens to be nearest to this station.”

So you stay here?” She whispered in puzzlement. This old dilapidated place? That’s in the middle of nowhere!”

I could ask why you are here as well Ms. Sinclair Stirling? Considering that there’s more than likely more stations closer to you. You are from the city aren’t you?? He protested with a wild look upon his face.

[* Alright , Alright, I apologize for that! It was-- uncalled for. I am just stressed that I must remain here for the night or longer because of this dreadful weather. Who knew today of all days would be rainy. I was hopeful to get to London to sell my bags to local shops there this week. As I must make my rent income on time this month or face the dread of eviction. These little glorified bags have become my saving grace, providing me with just enough money to pay my way.” *]

Wrapping his arm around her shoulder. How about a hand or two of cards to pass the time? You name the game and we’ll play it!? He enthusiastically chimed.

Canasta? She asked with a mischievous grin.

Well then it’s settled I will go find a deck of cards we’ll play here on the bench.

Slamming her fist against the Chestnut stained cedar bench with a sour face, after three rounds cast aside the cards. Rose up to stretch his legs. Would you like anything while I’m up tea, coffee, or Biscuits perhaps!? Amelia just gave the cold shoulder and began tapping her foot as he began to walk away. The prospect of lasting out the night in a dark, dank, and unnerving station felt less than catchy in her head. possibly to everyone’s surprise, the counter clerk has a stove in the back of the station where he and the staff slept. Which enabled them to have a warm meal at lunch and dinner time. Commuters wander around the little station, looking for things to keep them engrossed as they wait for the dismal weather to clear standing in the windows and doorways observing the rain pour down before their eyes, others seated themselves without complaint waiting. Chow time, come and get it! Just grab yourself a bowl and a glass. I know this more than likely isn’t too appealing but it is all we have on hand right now. I hope you all enjoy”

A canister is holding the utensils topples off the cart unexpectedly rolling around the floor. Everyone stopped dead for an instant, startled by the clatter. Mr. McGregor figured it to be a fluke and resumed filling bowls and glasses as he gives each person their lunch. As soon as everyone sat down, it took place again.

The entire pot of stew flew off this time onto the floor. McGregor cursed aloud snatching towels to clean up the mess, growling in contempt while bent on one knee.

Whoever or whatever you are, STOP IT THIS MINUTE AND LEAVE US ALL IN PEACE!? He screamed as the manifestations come to a halt with thunderous booms, bright lighting that amplified tensions in the modest room. Rains now at their heaviest banging against the rickety old black roof and rotted gray stained birch-wood.

Eerie sounds filled the cracks of the station as Mr. McGregor set out all available cots. Closed doors and mangled old shutters block out the cold shivery scene outside. On the far side of the station, a strange and eerie mist drifted over the green meadows. Rising upwards transforms into a deep-sea like fissure, towering over the meadow. Toward the station in concealed silence moves at a snail’s pace across as, thunderbolts sweep the earthy dirt while unruly winds howl like a wolf in darkness. Furious thunderbolts rocked the ground, and scorched the earth where it struck. Each strike lit the sky up with a brilliant hue of violet.

The mist slinks unscathed toward the place, working its way to the nearest window slid forward drawing-out to transform from the clouds into an adult female as its hazy green eyes peer into the gaps of the shutter gazing toward Darren pupils dilate, clenching her jaw with a sour face while he enjoys Amelia’s company. Devising a way inward through the shutters and glass, quiet and unnoticed dissipates into wisps of vapor as it arrived next to a seated patron, narrow eyes fade fixate with contempt. With malignity floats unnoticed between legs, under chairs towards Darren and Amelia, eavesdrop intently. Agitated around to solid flesh before everyone as Mr. McGregor arrives with dinner cart.

Look Out! Darren behind you!? McGregor screeched. Darren turns in time to see a grievous contorted facial expression, while snatching Amelia off the seat in time as it divided into two.

Lights blink on and off explosively blasting and thrashing through as though the windows are wide-open as it threw the dinner cart against the wall shattering lamps. Darkness flows through the room, everyone shouts out in fright running toward a path out into the frigid, dewy night, pushing and forcing Amelia toward the front door. Lost sight of Darren in the pandemonium staggered outside onto the muddy grass and thick foggy air, as Amelia feels her way through snatching hand grip of the automobile as she crawls inside awaiting confusion to calm. Frosty “Huh phoo, huh phoo, huh phoo” fill the car as violent shivers travel through her damp body as she raises up in a seated position. Eyes gaze up to the windshield uncovering the spectral creature now staring back. Nearer and closer she comes while her nails glide down the window screen smiling with contempt as her black-violet eyes glow with rage. Sounds of breaking glass reverberate inside her mouth opens, eyes widen while shrinking into the seat, arms cross her face as glass fragments began falling onto the fascia. Blasts of air make shards fly like torpedoes all over as marks on any plain surface and skin come away. The glass reverted to a land of untouched as Amelia slowly uncovers her face head tilts in amazement reach out a shaking hand wide-eyed, touches the cold surface of the dashboard window.

Silence stirs as sounds of rain and heavy breathes echoes in the hush of nighttime. Peering out into the rain, notices a man in a brown tweed suit head toward a nearby old abandon mine fade into thin air. Looks left, and the rear window reaches for the door handle opens slow.

Shadows cascade through the backdrop of nightfall as one peculiar vague figure approaches the car. Lightening flashes as a mystifying orb of light floats its way to Amelia. Arising out of the car cautiously kept the ball of light in her sight. Squinting her eyes Amelia hangs on to the front and back passenger doors as it comes to its closer.

Mr. McGregor clutching on to his coat with raised eyebrows twisted mouth. [* Miss are you all right?? He inquired. Are you injured?” ] He asked extending his hand. [*What in the world was that thing??]

Shallow, rapid breaths came over Amelia finding it difficult to maintain composure pointing over to the excavation shields her face with her other hand. McGregor narrowing eyes gaze into the rainy night at the old mine, blew out his cheeks, unable to see anything snatches right arm aids Amelia to her feet. Not sure what is going on here. I do know everyone needs sleep now you included. That thing seems to have disappeared hopefully forever.

Explosions of vibrant neon lightening streak down from a violent sky lit up pitch a black rainy night before their eyes blinding them for a bit. Violently hitting the ground near the mine with the force of a dozen atomic bombs ricocheting off the land and surfaces it touches. Small quakes rattle the ground with gale force winds shake the grassy soil as McGregor and Amelia attempt to make their way up to the station with hands griping anything still attached to the ground. ? It’s getting late, storms now worse than ever, time to head back inside and rest. McGregor asserted, wrapping his shivering wet arm around Amelia led the way as they stumbled their way across the drenched ground to the platform stairs and up inside the station inside locking down the door once inside. Placing Amelia on the closest bed as another employee found a couple of spare heating blankets. Wrapping them in it while one of the other workers hands a hot drink to warm them up.

Here drink this. It’ll warm you right up. What in the world just happened, I have never seen anything like that before in my life?!

What on earth was that? he said as he jumped at the frantic blinks of the lighting.

Light bulbs continue flickering wildly as winds outside howl hurtling branches of every size and shape, loose earth, and small rocks at the building.

Whew! Dreadful storm’s wreaking havoc on this old place. I do hope it stops soon, before it blows us to kingdom come!?

Whoosh and Thhhwwack of the outside shutters snap about in the vicious wind.

“I think it’s time we all head to bed!” McGregor uttered.

The workers will bring out what cots we have on hand. Which unfortunately is not many so, some of you will have to make do with the floor or benches on hand. “

Two hours pass by, when Amelia is awoken by odd distant voices and an eerie sound of clanging of a bell.

quietly Amelia rose from the cot trying to find the sound as she got closer, the noise it stopped then moments later, it happened again tip-toeing her way to the counter. Tilting her body over to view the inside, hopeful that Mr. McGregor or one of the other staff members are up stirring about the back room. To her bewilderment, she found them all sound asleep. Backing away from the counter, she looked around in puzzlement, trying to locate the source of the sound and began to shake stepping back as if someone’s passing right through her. The noise stopped again as she decided to head back to her cot, hoping to fall fast asleep.

Close to midnight, she awakened again, this time too the sound of an odd clunking noise. Once again, she got up and tried to find the source of the sound. As she moved closer to the entrance of the doorway, the sound became almost deafening. Amelia tiptoed up to the door and peered out into the vaporous night, unable to see her hands before her or even beyond the walkway. She headed outside and looked around, hoping someone would be out there and could explain the noises she’d heard.
To her dismay, no one appears to be there, as the sound remained. Stepping off the platform stairway, the sound came to an immediate halt. Before long, a strange mist appeared moving toward her at a fast pace. Frightened by what she saw turned around to run, only to slip and plummet off the porch, twisting her ankle in the process. The mist then turned and headed for the door of the station.

Fearing for the others Amelia bolted after it. She hoped to be able to halt whatever it is from hurting anybody.

The minute she went inside, she found it heading smack-dab in Darren’s direction. Shouting as rudely as possible, awakened them all from their sound slumber. 
Darren also bolted up from a sound sleep, wondering what had happened. He scrambled off his cot, dashed to the back of the station, trying desperately to lose whatever was behind him, with Amelia and Mr. McGregor trailing in hot pursuit.
By the time they had reached him, and found him cowering in the corner, near a strange opening in the wall. Mr. McGregor went over to the opening while Amelia went to check on Darren.

His eyebrows raise suddenly. ? Oh My, take a look at this!?
In the opening, an old book that looked like a diary. As Mr. McGregor wiped the dust from the book, they heard Darren wail. Turning around, they found him dragged into a different enclosure running toward Darren, the clerk dropped the book in a attempt to pull him out of it.
In a scramble finding a way to open the enclosure, they pushed each plank of wood, eager to find a mechanism that would open the secret door. After several failed attempts, McGregor picked up the book as they returned to the front of the station. Everyone in the station gathered around hoping to find out what was going on. Amelia and the clerk said nothing as they passed everyone and walked into the clerk’s office. 
Mr. McGregor sat down at his desk, starting to read the diary, as Amelia walked confusedly, back and forth across the floor of the office, wondering what could have taken Darren. Mr. McGregor s eyes gradually narrowed while his mouth gasped for air. “Listen to this!” he bellowed.
“October 31, 1840, No matter how hard I try to reason with her, she still insists on picking a fight with me, though I have done nothing wrong. She will not tell where my son is, she will only say again and again that our son is dead. How can one believe her lies? Surely, she would not cause harm to an innocent child over a lovers quarrel. How many times do I have to apologize, when I have done nothing wrong?”
Mr. McGregor sat there a minute as if he had been frozen solid. Then stood up and started going through an old chest that held all the station’s old and current night duty logs. Picking up each log, he examined them expeditiously, as if he was trying to find someone specific. 
“Ah ha! I do not believe this. Amelia come and take a look at this.” rummaging through all the ticket stubs and receipts.“How do you know my name?” she asked curiously. 
“From your tickets, of course. Your name is stamped on them.” he chuckled. 
Amelia continues pacing as he went through everything. He suddenly stopped her once again. “Amelia, look at this.” Altering direction toward him looking over his shoulder at the book entry, ticket stubs in disbelief.
“It cannot be can it?”

What do you think Mr. McGregor?

Brushing her thought off as nothing returned to pacing, as he back to scanning through the stubs while handling the diary. Noticing McGregor‘s sudden piqued interest made Amelia once again stop dead in her tracks as he thumbed through the second entry. She rushed over as he began to read the entry aloud.

“October 31, 1860, I can not take anymore of this gypsy woman and her lies I will end it tonight. Years after our son goes missing she still plays these games. That devil woman reappears from out of nowhere to torment me once more. You won’t take me to where our son is. Nor, will you tell me where he is. Well, after tonight no more! She will not toy with my emotions any longer. One day my son will be found. That’s a promise.”
McGregor spoke aloud, “No more periodical entries after this date, from the looks of it. I wonder if something happened after the last one was written. It does sound as though something had happened to the child. *]I [*do remember hearing stories of a woman who could have been expecting, or already had a child, and stories of a nasty love triangle. Now. I do not know or believe it is true, but its said that one fateful October 31. I believe it is the same year as this last entry-something happened to her or him. Some claims of seeing her haunt this old station a few months after her death and over the years.
His train of thought became interrupted suddenly by a loud thump. He abruptly halted for a moment waiting, listening for another thud to appear. When nothing happened after five minutes, he resumed his story. 
Now where was I, O yes, as I was saying. I’ve never seen her myself in all the years I have worked in this weird place, I’ve only experienced a few moans. Tonight is the first time, I have ever had an experience of something knocked over,” Mr. McGregor recalled. 
Just as he finished saying that, a loud thump came from the wall near the air vent, startling them. He jumped up, grabbing a flashlight as he peered into the vent. To their surprise, it was none other than Darren, who’d somehow made his way through a maze of air ducts, managing to find the clerk’s office. Breathing rather heavy, he jumping out of the air duct leaned forward as he tried to catch his breath. Amelia helped him to the nearest seat while the clerk offered him a glass of water. As he regained his breath again.
“Something grabbed my ankle as we turned, and the next thing I knew, I was led into this dark, tight place. I couldn’t get out after the doorway closed. I tried to find a tunnel, or anything for that matter, when I did find an old air duct. I loosened the screws with a screw driver I’d found rummaging a tool box I stumbled onto and took off the grate. Having to climb into that thing is not that favorable, dark and scary, I tell you. About an hour later, I managed to find a way to your office. I am still not sure who or what grabbed me, and I could not see them.”
Mr. McGregor picked up the diary as he got up, showing Darren what they had found earlier. Looking at the journal entries that they had found, he made a quick glance at them then turned back to his drink as though he knew about it.
Mr. McGregor inquired, [*“Are you all right, Darren? Do you know who wrote the journal?” *]
“No!” Darren retorted sneering towards McGregor with contempt as his forehead and cheeks turned a bright crimson.
“Then why the shade of anger on your face currently? If you truly know nothing about this Darren Why are you acting as though you are hiding something?” Just then, he rushed out of the room with them close behind and disappeared and no one else seemed to know where he went. Just as one of the passengers passed by, Mr. McGregor taps her on the shoulder, “Did you see which direction the tall burly older gentleman went, when he hurried out of my office?” The woman just stood there a moment, staring then shrugged, “I’m sorry, I have seen no one else leave your office sir, are you feeling alright?” Amelia and the clerk looked at each other in bewilderment as they went off again, hoping to find where Darren had hid.
With still no sign of Darren after twenty minutes of searching. As they decided to give up the search, a mysterious mist began to enter the room.

They approached it and Darren was standing over by the window, staring at it and looking terrified. He burst out the door in apparent terror. McGregor and Amelia chased after him just as the mist subsided.

“He couldn’t have gotten that far,” Amelia said distressed. They ran down the steps, into the dark night as the pitter-patter of rain bounced and tingled her cold skin as she peers in both directions yelling: DAAARRRREN!”—-“DAAARRRREN!”
It was no use, after ten minutes gave up the search. It seemed as though Darren disappeared into thin air. Heading back to the station, Amelia thought to herself. Why did he run off like that? What could he be hiding from? It is as though he just vanished into thin air like a ghost-twice! I need to find out what this wretched man’s up too.”
Approaching the station, they heard a strange crying sound that now enclosed the room. Everyone except Amelia and McGregor was upset by it. The passengers backed up to the walls, trying desperately to escape the creepy cries that washed over the room. Then it sounded as though the sound was coming from the walls themselves, and everyone bolted out of the room. Where only Amelia and Mr. McGregor remained, they went around the area, trying to find the sound.
They managed to trace it toward the entrance of Mr. McGregor ‘s office. As they stood still in the middle of the office, the noise started up again, this time near the area of the air conditioning vent. To their surprise, it was the exact area that Darren had come from just hours ago.
Taking his tool, Mr. McGregor unscrewed the bolts holding the grate; when he took it off the wall, they found no sign of a person or any animals. With only the unusual sound of crying. Even though the noise appeared farther away from them, it was still loud enough for them to distinguish a cry. Whether it was adult or child, they were not sure. 
They were certain, though, that its questionably unusual and unearthly, the air felt terribly cool. They left the office rushing, leaving the air conditioning vent off, as they headed outside in the cold, damp air. 
They went around the building searching for the source of the noise, starting from the other side of the vent. When Mr. McGregor shined the flashlight into the deep hole, he still could see nothing. With the sound of the crying still going on, not only perplexed but also became exasperated by it. 
By the time they went back inside, they were stunned to find something had followed them. The mysterious mist quickly rushing past them, heading toward one of the exit doors near the back of the station. 
As they tracked it back outside, they found Darren, who, to their surprise, appeared to be just as clean as he appeared hours earlier. With no sign that he had been in the air conditioning vents or that he had ever been troubled. As the mist’s beginning coming closer and closer, as he starts to back away succeeded in engulfing him. They hear a screech before it moves toward the side of the building, heads toward an old uninhabited underground mining excavation. Everyone who heard Darren’s cries for help came rushing out of the station furthermore, they offered to help find him.

They headed toward the mine, before they arrived he had already disappeared.

One of the patrons handed flashlights to Amelia and Mr. McGregor as they looked into the hole however, found no sign of Darren. They did find his wallet, though, near where he fell into the hole. To their surprise, a photograph of Darren and with the woman of the mist fell out of the wallet in the photo the woman appeared confused. 
They pondered whether Darren could be the lover of this woman who haunts the old station. If he is the old lover and is deceased as well, it would explain the odd occurrences happening all evening. What they found next convinced them even more, it was beyond a doubt Darren, and that he was also haunting the station with a note inside the wallet that read: 
[*October 31, *
*This will be the last journal entry. I cannot take it any more, even though she is long gone. I still feel so guilty about what happened to you, my love. I am forever remorseful for all eternity. My love, after years apart, I will be with you soon. *
*Darren *]
Amelia took a deep breath as she handed the note back. Mr. McGregor. jumping up to his feet as if a light bulb came on above his head went back to his office. Everyone followed closely behind, trying to keep up. Sitting down, he began to rifle through old papers hidden in his old desk. After a moment uttering with satisfaction, “Eureka!” 
[*“Here’s an old newsprint editorial on the death of a female in the late 1840’s. From what it says, this woman had fooled around, trying to get her lover’s attention. It appears she tripped and fell…I do not believe it. This may be who haunts this place, and why. *]
[*The woman fell into that old mining area. At first, the police suspected foul play was involved at least the insinuation of her father a Romanian gypsy travel well known all over for stealing, causing all sorts of trouble. They arrested a fellow named…Darren – last name unknown. Eventually they did release him and charges were dropped, he was then admitted into a psychiatric hospital for about…six years until released in 1857. They finally ruled her death accidental after a rather lengthy investigation by that time. *
No one knows, though, what occurred after he left the hospital and from the looks of it doesn’t say either what may or may not have happened to the child  certainly. The woman’s father disappeared into thin air as well. It still doesn’t answer the question, though, If Darren did die, why is he haunting this place. If he didn’t die here? I cannot see him walking the grounds if he died somewhere else. That is if the man we met today was the ghost of the man in these journals.]
Well! He said with a loud thud of closing the book. [*I suppose we will never of course know, will we? I do hope the blasted haunting will end now.” *]
Morning approached; the rain had stopped, and the fog had lifted. The activity from the previous night had ended, leaving everyone greatly relieved. When the train arrived, they picked up their belongings and got on it. Once seated on the train, Amelia thought about the whole series of events. She wondered whether the Darren that she had met last evening could be the Darren from those old articles. [*What if… he and the lady were the ones haunting the old station? What about the father what happened to him? Why is she so angry? What happened? *]
Be that as it may, for the ghosts of Blackwell Station the truth and secrets will remain a haunting mystery for a little while longer, waiting for someone to reveal its secrets.

 


Ghosts of Blackwell The Return

  • ISBN: 9781310602702
  • Author: S.M Bysh
  • Published: 2016-03-24 03:20:06
  • Words: 5418
Ghosts of Blackwell The Return Ghosts of Blackwell The Return