"I'll be back in a second, I promise." she said in a trembling voice. Slowly and quietly she made her way towards the kitchen. The hardwood floor not so much as making a squeak. Twice she turned her head back and looked at us and I will never forget the fear written in her eyes. It seemed like minutes, no hours before we saw her with a hammer in hand coming back to us. When she sat down and leaned back against the door, she almost collapsed as she handed the hammer to John.
It was a calculated risk I took to scoot the nearest board towards John with my foot. I knew we wouldn't have much time to make room for John to pound the nails in fresh holes. “Listen to me.” John said. “When I pick up the board, you four duck down and I’ll nail the board in. Keep scooting the boards over to me.” he said. Then Becky lost it. Her eyes looked wild with fear as she shook her head no. "We can't let go of the door, let's all just run like hell.
We can get away, I know we can!" she said with tears streaming down her cheeks. With my right hand, I slapped her face hard and told her to pull herself together. "We can't run Becky, we'll never all make it to the front door, there's too many of us. We have to board the door first to buy us time to escape. Just do as John says, stay low and push hun!" I said.
But secretly, I knew there was a drawback to John’s plan. Something he never mentioned. Perhaps the others knew it too, but were just too scared to say anything! John weighed 320 pounds. He was the heaviest one of us. Without his weight to hold the door shut, I knew we couldn't keep the demon in the basement. Once we were knocked to the floor, no one was running anywhere.
But we didn't have any other choice but to go for it. Deep inside, I knew the boards hadn't kept this thing in the basement for long. It had killed an entire family. But maybe, just maybe we would have just enough time to make it out of the house. Becky and I were crying as Sam and Steve pushed against the door hard. Slowly, John leaned down with one big hand and picked the board up as we leaned down, to give him room.
I knew that as soon as the pounding started the footsteps would return and all hell would break loose. I had never felt so close to dying before. John positioned the board just above my head, the strongest part of the door and as he pounded, the sound was deafening to my ears. With each thud against the door, my back ached. He placed his huge boot against the bottom of the door which was the only source of comfort I felt. I hoped it was enough to save us all.
By the time the second board was nailed, my ears were still ringing. If the demon was on the steps of the stairway, if it was standing on the top step inside of the door, we couldn't have known it. I think we were so scared it really didn't matter at that point. Two boards were left to be nailed against the basement door. Finally all four boards were nailed as we all sat on the floor, our backs against the door, shaking, crying, as Becky hugged my neck.
We sat there in stark disbelief at what we had witnessed and not a word was spoken. But the look in each of our eyes told the same story, that later, we knew would be part of a haunting nightmare. There was an evil spirit in this house, a doorway from hell and something wanted to enter our world. Would it or could it leave this house? I thought about Jessica and Bill, wondering why they didn’t just flee this house when they had a chance when things began to get unexplainable.
I knew the answers were in Jessica's diary, within her tear stained pages. Pages filled with anguish, of tearful prayers that this couldn't be happening. Suddenly, I realized to my horror that Jessica's diary wasn't with me. I had left it back in Jessica's bedroom. Before I could speak, John whispered, "Listen to me. I want you four to stand up and calmly walk out the front door while I stay and hold this door shut. We can't all run like frightened mice down this narrow hallway.
You all can do it, if you don't panic. I'll be fine. I can run once you all have made it outside." John said. I guess the look in my eyes told John something was wrong and I began to shakily whisper. "I can't leave, John, I can't. Jessica's Diary tells everything that happened in this house. I left the diary in their bedroom and I'm not leaving this house till I go back and get it." I said in a frightened voice. Everyone looked at me like I had gone mad. But after a moment, John told the other's to leave and motioned for me to head toward the bedroom.
Everything was going fine and as I reached the bedroom door, I saw the blue diary on the floor and I ran to it, reached down and picked it up. But no sooner had I held it, then a horrific thud hit the basement door and I heard a board hit the floor. John was putting all of his body weight against the door as thud after thud hit the door. I was running back down the hall now, getting closer to John with tears rolling down my face. I saw the look of terror in John's eyes as he motioned for me to run faster. Then I heard the sounds of wood splintering behind me.
As I turned back towards John, a fist size hole was made through the door and a grotesque clawed hand gripped John by the throat as his face turned red. Blood was spurting where each claw, punctured John’s throat, as he desperately kicked his feet, trying to pull away, but couldn’t.
My feet froze just past him as I screamed and he frantically waved his arms for me to get out. Then I almost jumped out of my skin as the pounding continued. I looked up and saw the nails working their way out of the last wood board.
In a desperate last chance effort to save my life, John kicked me in the leg and with a voice that barely could speak he gasped, "Run!" Blood was running down John's chest, soaking his shirt as a second hole was ripped through the door as both clawed hands ripped away at John. I ran, Oh My God! I ran as if Satan himself was right behind me and as I rushed onto the porch I saw the other's huddled around each other, shaking.
"Where's John?” asked Sam.” The more I tried to speak, the more I realized I had lost my voice. Sam began to race back up the steps and I grabbed his foot and held on tight to his leg, shaking my head, but he broke free. When he reached the doorway, he stopped in his tracks, as if he hit an invisible brick wall. He saw John’s lifeless, blood drenched body being pulled through the basement door by the two clawed arms and he was gone.
Sam ran back to us and yelled, “Get in the car!” and we needed no encouragement. Sam drove us as fast as he could to the police station! The Tulsa Police Precinct was in chaos when all four of us burst through the front door, screaming, wild eyed and terrified all talking 90 miles an hour of a murder. Officers were rushing up to the counter from the conference room, trying to calm us three women and one man down.