This is a contest entry to WattpadShortStory's Triple Treat Halloween '23 Contest.

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Angela changed when we moved here. She became quiet and reclusive, refusing to play or talk with the other kids in town. She would either hole herself up inside her room or talk to the paintings on the walls. Barely six, she refused to be kissed on the cheek or hear a story to lull her to sleep. Sometimes, I would catch her muttering something as she stared at me, and then she would run away with her golden-haired doll, Jessa, in her tiny arms. It had only been two months since we've lived here. Since my daughter hid herself inside an invisible shell. And I couldn't stop myself from blaming the gargantuan house.

Situated at the foot of Mt. Makiling, in the small and rural town of San Lazaro, Bahay ng Bahaghari (Rainbow House) was an old and gigantic structure. It was a colonial mansion built in the 1700s during the Spanish colonization and housed generation after generation of the heirs of the main branch of the Alcaraz family living in San Lazaro. However, I didn't grow up here. My mother did, but she married my dad who lived in Manila and stayed there. Unlike my mother, I grew up used to busy streets and busy people in the metro, not accustomed to the slow, provincial life at the foot of the mountain. However, since I married early, hadn't had a stable job for years since having a baby, and was left by my husband for another, I had no choice but to go back to the mansion left by my grandparents to me. At first, I thought it was a nice catch. Bahay ng Bahaghari was enormous and beautiful, with wide gardens of flowers, splendid fountains, and a lot of verandas and patios. The inside was even more enchanting--tall glass windows, antique furniture, long winding staircases, spacious rooms, two libraries (this I liked so much!), and big paintings of our ancestors on its brown wooden walls.

It was heaven two months ago, but now I was not sure about that.

"Angela!" I screamed my daughter's name as I blindly got off of the enormous king-size bed, my hands searching for its wooden panel for support and familiarity with the place. The roars of thunder had woken me up from my deep sleep. They were accompanied by the pelting of harsh rain. My eyes could hardly see anything in the darkness. Our electricity must have been cut off because of the storm. "Angela!"

A flash of lightning quickly followed by another roar of thunder.

For a second, I thought I saw my daughter standing in the doorway of my room.

"Angela?" Never minding if I would trip, I walked across the chamber. Who was still in the mansion? Mrs. Ramirez, the housekeeper? Or Mr. David, the butler? There were no more maids because I could not provide them with salaries. Mrs. Ramirez and Mr. David were loyal enough to our family that they stayed with me even though I could only pay them so little for their services. The Alcaraz family's company had gone bankrupt and my writing career hadn't been able to provide me with a steady income.

Mrs. Ramirez and Mr. David were not here during the night. They usually go back to their own houses at 8 p.m. I reached the hallway outside my bedroom, my eyes being more accustomed to the dark. The grandfather clock chimed, announcing that it was the middle of the night: 12 a.m. And it's All Hallows Eve. Wasn't it the perfect time when witches gained more power, the creatures of the dark lurked in every corner, and the demons wandered throughout the lands?

Another flash of lightning and a loud, terrifying thunder.

Goosebumps formed on the flesh of my skin, but I ignored them. I was a grown woman and I should not be frightened by anything Halloween. They were just stuff made out to scare kids. Speaking of kids, where the heck was mine?

"Angela?"

"Devil's child." A voice suddenly resounded in my head. Did someone speak? It was an old woman's voice. Could it be Mrs. Ramirez? I spun to my right, but no one was there, only the empty hall and the unsmiling portraits of generations of the Alcaraz family members hanging around.

"Mrs. Ramirez?" I called as I advanced to my child's room. "Hello? Are you still here?"

Silence.

For some reason, my pulse was quickening, and I couldn't stop myself from being startled by the roaring series of thunder. Maybe I was just hearing things. My nerves were strung tight because I'd been worried about my daughter. This house... there was just something I could not explain about this house.

"Devil'sss... child." That voice again, but louder. I heard it, I was sure of it.

"Who's there?" Like before, no one answered. Frightened, I jogged towards Angela's room and flung its door open. She should be alright. "Angela!" My daughter was not sleeping soundly in her bed as I hoped, but was sitting on the bedroom's wooden floor. She was embracing Jessa and rocking back and forth.

"From the pits of hell. From the pits of hell," she was singing in her little voice.

The song rattled me. She was acting weird again. Maybe we shouldn't have moved here but stayed in Manila. Rented an old apartment and lived an even simpler life. "Angela!" I called my daughter's name and sat in front of her. She stopped her movement and looked at me. Good. I patted her head and asked her, "Why aren't you sleeping, love? Are you afraid of the thunder, too?"

Her response was to tilt her head and say, "I'm afraid of you."

Angela's eyes bore into mine. For a moment, she didn't look like five and the hairs on my arms stood. But I acted like everything was fine. "Why are you afraid of me?"

"Well." She tilted her head to the other side. "Because you will kill me."

What? Who the heck gave my child such an idea? That's preposterous! Unthinkable! "I will never. Never. hurt you," I assured her.

But she didn't look convinced. "Then, can I kill you?" Angela's words cut into me. Something inside me was convinced that the toddler could really do it. She could take a knife and plunge it deep into my heart until my heartbeat stopped. But I mentally shook my head. This was Angela, a pure soul. A five-year-old obsessed with her doll and barely knew anything about the world. Then why the words? Was it really this haunted house that was dictating such things to her? Whispering her words?

"Devil'sss... child."

I looked to my left because I heard that voice again. No one was there. Just my fright hanging in the air. I faced my daughter. "You shouldn't say that, Angela. No one's killing anyone."

"But we killed a chicken for dinner."

"That's different because that's food."

The little girl pouted, and she appeared like my daughter again. "Really?"

"Yes, darling. Now go to sleep." I carried her into my arms and laid her on her frilly pink bed. "Want me to sing you a song to sleep?"

"No thanks, Jessa will do that."

I didn't argue and kissed her good night. My nerves frayed, I was thinking of calling Morgan, my boyfriend, and asking him to stay the night with us till morning. His house was just twenty minutes away from us. But I also didn't want him to think that I was a scaredy-cat. I was a strong, independent woman, and I did not need a man to depend on. I would solve things on my own.

The trek to my room seemed shorter than before and my eyes had well adjusted to the dark. I could see things clearer now. And could see the lifeless body of Mrs. Ramirez by the foot of the grand staircase. I immediately let out a blood-curdling scream. The housekeeper's head was cracked, blood and gore spilled out from its large wound. My heartbeat tripled, and it took me seconds before I was able to run towards her and look for her pulse.

As I suspected, she was already dead.

"Devil's child..."

What the heck was that voice? A dead body, a creepy voice, and my daughter acting weird... I had enough of this haunted mansion! Hurrying, I dialed the number of the local police as I pulled my bags from my bedroom closet. I'd report Mrs. Ramirez's death and then get out of this cursed place with my daughter. We'll go back to Manila. Alas, someone picked up the phone. I said in a hurried tone, "Hello, this is Cynthia. I'm calling from Bahay ng Bahaghari. I just found someone dead--Hello? Is somebody there? Hello?"

There was nothing but static.

"Hello?"

Then, a man's raspy voice said, "The devil is coming to you. You should kill the devil's child."

I snapped my phone shut. Fuck. This wasn't happening. This was way beyond logic. Maybe I was losing my mind. Should I find a shrink? But there was no mistaking that Mrs. Ramirez's dead body was there by the stairs. I looked outside the glass windows. The rain was still pouring as hard as before. Even with such a storm, I could still drive. We could stay at the motel for one night. Gosh, how much would moving out cost? But I did not have a choice. Bahay ng Bahaghari was making me and my daughter crazy!

"Mama?" I didn't notice that Angela was standing beside me, clutching Jessa tightly. "I heard a scream."

"Oh, darling." My hands were quivering, but I held her shoulders tight. "Listen, I need you to choose what you want to wear and then we'll go to town in a minute. Is that okay with you?"

Angela's short black hair swayed as she shook her head. "But we can't leave the house, Mama."

"No, baby, we should get away from here. Far, far away."

The little girl stomped her feet on the wooden ground. "I don't want to leave! I don't want to leave Jessa!"

"We can bring Jessa with us." I pointed at her toy.

Angela's response was to throw the golden-haired doll to the floor. "Not this one, Mama! The real Jessa!" Then, her childish voice mixed with deep voices as she said, "And you need to kill the devil's child."

I immediately took a step back, heart jackhammering. What the hell was happening to my dear daughter? No matter how much she insisted, we would leave this darn house and whoever the fuck Jessa was. I took her into my arms as I continued gathering my clothes. She was wriggling out of my grasp screaming "No!" "No!" and "Bad Mama!" I ignored her, sat her on the bed, and dialed Morgan's phone.

Morgan answered after two rings. "Hi," I said, "S-something happened and I know it's raining cats and dogs but I really need to meet you at the motel in town. Yes, the one with a yellow roof. I-I just need someone with us. To spend the night and then maybe accompany us out of San Lazaro. I'll explain later. Right. Thanks. Love you." Snapping the phone shut, I was surprised that Angela had ceased fighting me. She was unmoving and stared blankly in front of her like her soul had just left her body. My gosh. My precious, precious daughter. My heart clenched inside my chest. "Angela," I whispered, but she didn't respond. Maybe I should take her to church and let the priest do whatever he needed to do to save my child. I was not a Catholic, but I just didn't know what else to do.

I heard a chuckle near my bedroom's door right before a roar of thunder. I looked at where it came from and saw a shadow pass by. "Jessa?" Maybe she was the ghost of a kid who lived here--a long-dead relative. I followed the shadow and reached the foot of the stairs. Mrs. Ramirez's dead body was lying on its foot and I glanced at it, feeling sorry for the nice woman. Then, I felt cold, tiny hands behind me as I was pushed down the stairs. "Argh!" I shouted in panic and fear. I tried gaining balance but failed as I fell down. Luckily, I was able to shield my head and landed on the ground with only wounds and bruises. But it damn hurt. At least I was alive. I looked at the top of the stairs and saw Angela standing on it.

What?

Did she--

My gosh, no. She couldn't.

Then, my daughter roared, the sound deafening and hurting my ears. She started running down the stairs, towards me. Startled and panic rising again within me, I ran away, heading to one of the mansion's libraries.

"Devil's child... Kill the devil's child..." The voice resounded over and over in my head. As I ran, I looked around me and noticed that the portraits of the dead Alcaraz family members were looking at me, watching my every move like they were alive!

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I swore and entered the library and locked it.

Suddenly, images flashed through my mind. Still pictures of skin-to-skin. Lips to lips. Of intimate caresses. Then, I remembered it was me and someone else... Only, the man had charred skin, and on his head were two little horns. Like I fucking coupled with a devil! No. No. That was impossible. Why would I forget something like that? But it felt real and... disgusting. Fear and disgust crawled on my skin.

Then, if that was true then--

"Kill the devil's child!!" The eyes of the portraits burned red like the souls of the dead were in flames. They stared at me as if warning me, telling me about the damn devil's child over and over again. I won't believe it!

"Shut up!" I shouted, my voice hoarse due to crying. I didn't even realize I'd started to cry. I heard a series of knocks on the door. Of course, it was my daughter, Angela. "B-baby?" I hesitated, afraid of my own child.

"Mama, I'm scared," her words were trembling, "there's something wrong about Mr. David."

What happened this time?

"Mama?"

Worried about the good butler, I opened the door and saw that my child was covered in blood. In her hands was a bloody knife.

"Mr. David won't play with me, Mama." Her eyes looked so innocent, her eyebrows furrowed deeply. She didn't know just what she'd done.

"A-angela! What have you done?" I took the knife away from her tiny hands and asked, "W-where's Mr. David?" Was he really dead? Stabbed by my little girl?

"Beside Mrs. Ramirez. She's sleeping on the stairs--"

I didn't need to let her finish her sentence. I dashed out of the library and back to where I fell earlier. My wounds and bruises still ached, but they were a minor problem. This was the bigger problem. A cold-blooded murder committed by someone with a tainted soul. True enough, beside the corpse of the housekeeper, the bloody, lifeless body of Mr. David lay. His eyes and mouth were wide open, like he was more startled than in pain. All over his body were more than ten stab wounds. It was a merciless, gruesome kill.

No!

I shook my head.

No way a child barely six could do this.

But there was evidence. The blood in her hands, the little hands I felt before I fell, her demonic voice and weird gestures. Weird words. Like my dearest daughter was possessed by the devil! Or she was--

"The devil's child..."

My ancestors warned again. My heart beat faster inside me and I clutched my chest. My beloved child. Could I not save my daughter's soul?

"The devil's child!"

"Devil's child!"

"Devil's child!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Getting more scared every second, my teeth chattered. Lightning flashed and thunder roared. The portraits still stared at me with their blazing eyes. Two dead bodies were in the house and my daughter turned out to be a murdering freak.

Oh, gosh. Let this all be a dream! A nightmare, fine! But not real!

"Mama!" Angela ran towards me, her knife aimed at my body. "Mama!"

I screamed, believing she would kill me, too.

"Kill the devil's child!"

"Mama!" Her voice became demonic again, and I watched as Mr. David's blood trickled down her tiny body.

"Kill the devil's child!"

And as the child was about to strike me, I took the knife and plunged it into her heart. "Devil's child!" I screamed. Then, I looked at my daughter and wept. "Angela! Oh, no! Angela! Baby!"

"M-ma... ma..." Blood flowed from her open mouth, but she kept talking. "Jessa... b-bad girl. She d-did... the bad things."

"W-what? Angela? Angela!" My daughter let out her last breath, and I heard the portraits snickered.

"Cyn." Morgan, my lover, suddenly appeared and strolled inside the house like he belonged here.

"W-why are you--"

"I decided to come here rather than wait for you at the motel. You did it!"

What? What was happening? I did what? Lightning flashed, and I saw Morgan's form turn into a monster for a quick second--one with a charred body and two tiny horns. Like the image I remembered earlier!

He was the demon I made love with.

He said, "The father of Alcaraz will be delighted! You've offered another of Alcaraz's pure soul."

What the fuck was he rambling about? My daughter was dead, and he was rejoicing? A pure soul he said? Offered? And what about the devil's child?

Then, I felt nauseous and felt a tiny movement inside my belly. It seemed like something alive was inside me.

No way should I feel its movement this early, but was I... pregnant?

"The devil's child!" My ancestors' voices were full of delight, their portraits smiling treacherously.