Haunted House Tales

by Riley Amitrani

  “Ok. Truth it is.” Amanda smiled. “Who would you most like to sleep with, Professor Smythe or that student teacher who smells of weed?”

  “Seriously? Is that the best you can come up with?” Kim said before Gemma had a chance to answer. “That isn't even a truth question. It’s would you rather” Kim said.

  “Whatever. You think of something fun to do then. I’m going to get another drink.” Amanda went out of the living room and headed into the dark, cold hallway. The light from her torch did little to make her feel protected. Amanda opened the door to the kitchen and shone her torch in. She could see a crate of wine on the kitchen worktop. She went in the room and quickly headed to the worktop, wanting to spend as little time in the room as possible. The sound of the door slamming behind her stopped her in her tracks. She turned around and shone her torch on the now shut door. It must have been the wind. She turned back to the crate and took out a bottle of red wine. As she was about to turn back, she saw a shadow in the corner of the room. She shone her torch there. No one was there. She turned, ready to get out of the kitchen and return to the comfort of being with her friends. Then she heard a noise. It was the sound of light footsteps. Lighter than an adult’s, more like a small child or an animal. She spun around, shining the torch into all the corners of the room.

  “Hello?” Amanda said. There was no answer. She felt something brush against her leg. She screamed, dropping both the torch and the wine, the latter crashing on the floor, spilling everywhere. The torch spun in a circle on the floor, creating a circle of light which spun around the room. A shadow moved and hid from the light. The door to the kitchen opened wide and Kim ran in, followed by Gemma.

  “What the hell? Are you ok?” Kim asked, running over to Amanda who was sitting in a puddle of wine and broken glass.

  “There’s something in here.” Amanda said.

  “There’s just us.” Gemma said, shining her torch into all the corners of the room.

  “I think that’s enough wine for you, Amanda.” Kim said, helping Amanda to her feet. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” They led Amanda out the room and up the stairs to her room. For once Amanda didn’t argue.

  Blood Flows Deep

  Amanda woke up with a jump. The room was pitch black and the air was cold. Outside, the storm raged, thunder shook the room. The house seemed to creak and groan under the force of the storm. Amanda felt around on the bedside table to retrieve her phone. She looked at the time, it was 12:35, not long since she had gone to bed. She fell back asleep only to be plagued by strange dreams filled with dark shadows, thunderstorms and the sound of a child laughing.

  The next morning when Amanda woke, she at first did not know where she was. The room was too large to be her Cambridge flat, and the bed too opulent. She soon realised that she was in the master bedroom of Prescott House, and remembered the strange events of the previous day. She pulled the duvet back over her head to block out the light. She closed her eyes, keen to sleep off her hangover.

  “Amanda?” A voice called from downstairs. “Are you planning on joining us today?” it was Kim’s haughty voice. Amanda groaned, threw off the duvet and put on some clothes. Heading downstairs, she found Kim and Gemma by the back door. Kim passed her a glass of orange juice, which Amanda downed.

  “We’re going into the garden to look for an electricity box and work out how to turn on the water.” Kim said, as she laced up her trainers. “I think it will be easier if we split into three different directions. The first person to find something can shout and we can go to them.”

  “How difficult do you think this is going to-” Amanda didn’t finish questioning Kim’s plans, as she looked out the door and surveyed the back garden for the first time. Back garden was perhaps not the best term to describe it. The house had sizeable grounds which they had not seen last night in the dark. What once would have been a beautiful lawn, was now a wild mess of weeds and overgrown trees. Rose bushes grew everywhere, with twisted branches and sharp thorns.

  “Jesus. It’s like The Day of the Triffids.” Amanda said. She looked at what she was wearing; denim shorts, vest top and flip flops. They weren’t exactly practical clothing for this kind of exploring.

  They headed outside. Gemma took the left side of the garden, Kim the centre and Amanda the right. Amanda reluctantly headed into the undergrowth. The ground squelched underfoot and whenever Amanda brushed against a branch, water would drip down on her. She clung to the grey stone wall, keeping it to her right, using it to orientate herself as she lost view of the house. She ducked underneath low hanging tree branches and climbed over brambles. She could neither see nor hear her friends. Then she heard a sound. It was coming from the direction in which she was heading. It sounded like a child laughing. Amanda came to a clearing. This area seemed to be clear of the weeds and brambles choking the rest of the garden. In the clearing stood a large tree, with a wooden swing hanging from one of its branches. The swing squeaked in the wind, swaying as if someone had just jumped off. As Amanda looked at the swing, she heard the sound of laughter yet again.

  “Who’s there?” Amanda called. She could see leaves rustling ahead, as if someone had just passed through them. Amanda thought it could be a child from a neighbouring property. But then she realised there were no neighbours. Who would sneak into the garden of a house in the middle of nowhere?

  “Kim? Gemma?” Amanda called, moving forward, following the movement. Amanda had lost sight of the wall and had no idea where she was. Just how big were these grounds? Then she heard another noise, that of heavy footsteps behind her. She swung around and looked behind her. The sound was too heavy to be the footsteps of Kim or Gemma, these were the footsteps of a man. She could see a dark shadow behind a tree, as if someone was there. She broke into a run, ignoring the brambles and the thorns that cut her legs. She headed towards what she hoped was the middle of the garden. She glanced behind her. She couldn't see anything, but still she kept running. She ran straight into Kim.

  “What’s wrong?” Kim said.

  “There’s someone in the garden.” Amanda said. Kim looked around at the garden. It was quiet and peaceful. No one moved amongst the trees.

  “No there isn’t. There’s just us.” Kim said. “How hungover are you, Amanda?”

  “I’m telling you, someone was there.” Amanda did feel light headed from last night’s wine. She looked at Kim’s judgemental expression. “You’re right. Maybe it’s my imagination.” Amanda agreed, only half believing her own words.

  “Kim? Amanda? I think I’ve found something.” Gemma’s voice could be heard from close by.

  Kim and Amanda stood looking at each other. Kim was still bemused by the normally together and groomed Amanda standing in front of her, looking like a frightened animal. Not only had Amanda thought she had seen someone last night and smashed a bottle of wine, she had now also claimed to have seen someone today.

  “Come on, let’s see what Gemma has found.” Kim said. They followed the sound of Gemma’s voice. She had found a wooden shed.

  “Is this it?” Amanda said. Kim opened the door. Sure enough, inside the large shed were tools, wood and the house’s distribution board. In the corner were different pipes and levers. Together Gemma and Kim turned the water on and worked out how to reset the electrics. Amanda stood there watching and feeling utterly hopeless.

  “-Or is it option C- The third party must be expressly identified in the contract by name, as a member of a class or as answering a particular description but need not be in existence when the contract is entered into… Amanda?”

  “Sorry, what?” Amanda looked up at Kim. Her mind had drifted back to the events of that morning. It was late afternoon. Amanda, Kim and Gemma were sitting at the grand desk in the study, surrounded by text books and study notes. After Kim and Gemma had turned the electricity on earlier that morning, they had headed back to the house. Amanda and Kim did not mention Amanda’s supposed sighting of a man in the garden. A
manda was just pleased to be able to shower the mud off of herself and to clean her cuts. After lunch they had started studying, all three seated around the desk. Three hours later and they were still working. Amanda was bored, absentmindedly looking at the desk. It was a grand desk made of solid wood. She was opening the drawers and looking inside; they were all empty. That was apart from the bottom drawer which was locked shut. Amanda pulled at it, a mixture of bored and intrigued. She looked up, realising that Kim and Gemma were looking at her in silence. “Can you repeat the question?” Amanda asked Kim.

  Kim sighed. “Why don’t we take a break,” she said, closing the book.

  “No. I’m not done yet. I just didn't hear what you said.” Amanda said.

  “Ok,” Kim said. She repeated her law question. It was a basic question, on a subject they had all studied in their first year.

  “B,” Amanda said triumphantly, flashing a smile.

  “It’s A, Amanda.” Gemma said. “Look, it’s in this chapter here.” Gemma held the book out, trying to help.

  “Maybe I do need a break.” Amanda said. She got up and headed to the door. “Does anyone want a drink?”

  “Another coffee, please,” Kim answered.

  “I was thinking of something a bit stronger.” Amanda smiled.

  “It’s a bit early, isn’t it?” Kim said, still holding her sheet of questions.

  “I’ll have a glass with you.” Gemma said.

  Amanda went to the kitchen and got a bottle of white wine out of the fridge. Now that the electricity worked, the house seemed a lot less threatening. Amanda picked up three wine glasses and headed back to the study. She poured a glass and handed it to Kim.

  “Come on, lets’ take a break.” Amanda said. Kim accepted her offering, and they headed into the living room.

  They spent the remainder of the evening laughing and joking. To the outside world, people might think that they were close friends, but underneath the laughter was a competitiveness where they would stop at nothing to be the best in the class. After all, when they graduate they will all be fighting to get places on the best graduate scheme.

  A while later, Amanda excused herself, feeling weary from the drink. It wasn’t like her to feel that way. She had quite the reputation as a socialite back in Cambridge. She headed upstairs to her room and went to the en-suite. She ran the cold tap, and pulled her hair back into a pony tail. She closed her eyes and splashed the cold water onto her face in an attempt to wake herself up. But the water tasted funny, almost metallic. She opened her eyes; it was not water coming out of the tap, but blood. She looked in the mirror, her face was covered in it. She screamed, scarcely believing what she saw. She ran to the door, her bloody hands slipping on the door handle. She couldn’t open it; it was somehow locked from the outside. She screamed and pummelled the door with her hands, leaving bloody prints on the tiles. But it was no use, she was trapped. She sank to the floor and curled up in a ball, her arms wrapped tightly around her. The tap was still running, the sink overflowing with blood which was now beginning to form a pool on the floor, soaking Amanda even more. The door flung open and Kim and Gemma came in.

  “What the hell is wrong?” Kim said.

  “Look at me.” Amanda said, holding out her arms “I’m covered in blood.” She realised as she held out her hands that there was no blood on them. It was just water. She looked around. There was no blood. Water was running from the tap, which overflowed onto the floor.

  “What is wrong with you?” Kim said, arms folded. Gemma turned off the tap. She picked up a towel and wrapped it around Amanda’s shoulders to stop her shivering. She crouched on the floor and took Amanda’s hand.

  “Are you ok?” she said.

  “I don’t understand.” Amanda said. “There was blood everywhere, and now it’s gone. It must be the house. This place isn’t right.”

  “Is this some kind of trick?” Kim said. “You invite us to study with you, promising us a smart townhouse, but instead you take us to this mansion in the middle of nowhere. Then you scare us, more than once, with stories of seeing things. Are you on drugs or do you think I’m stupid?”

  “No.” Amanda said. “You must believe me, something isn’t right here.”

  “Yes Amanda, something here isn't right, and that something is you. If you think you can bring me to the middle of nowhere just to trick me as a way of disrupting my revision, then you’re wrong. There’s a reason that I’m top of the class, that’s because I work hard. And I’m not about to let you sabotage that. I’m going downstairs and I’m going to carry on revising. Come on, Gemma.” Kim left the room. Amanda looked at Gemma, who was still crouched on the floor beside her. Gemma gave Amanda a weak smile, then let go of her hand.

  “Perhaps you should join us when you have stopped these silly pranks.” Gemma said before she left the room.

  Amanda was left by herself, still curled up in a ball on the floor, soaked with water. She pulled the towel closer around her. Kim and Gemma hadn’t believed her, and in doing so proved themselves not to be true friends. She took her phone out of her pocket and called her father, but it went to voicemail. She chucked the phone across the room, where it hit the bath. What should she do now? Amanda considered getting in the car and driving back to Cambridge, leaving this house behind. She soon pushed the thought from her mind. She hated to admit it, but she needed Gemma and Kim. Amanda knew that, without their help, there was no way she would pass her exams. Her Father was right; he had done everything for her. She would be ashamed if she ruined her whole life by failing a couple of stupid exams.

  Amanda stood up and went to the bedroom where she got dry clothes out of the wardrobe. She decided that tomorrow she would find out more about the history of the house, and get rid of whatever was haunting it.

  Uncovering the Past

  Amanda woke up in a hot sweat. The night was dark, but unlike the previous night the air was calm. She reached for her phone and looked at the time. It was 12:35. The same time she had woken up the previous night. Why did she wake up at this time? She lay awake in bed for a while, pondering, before falling back to sleep.

  In the morning Amanda rose early, before the others, and set up her laptop in the study. She went on the internet and searched for Prescott House. Nothing came up; no news articles, nothing in any online journal and no old photographs. The only page she found was the estate agent’s advert, which was full of glossy pictures advertising its sale. Forest Town Estate Agents listed the property as ‘An Impressive Art Deco Mansion.’ They featured plenty of pictures of the interior, but hadn’t included any of the overgrown garden, or mentioned that it had been uninhabited for years. It listed the house as being on the market since 2014. Two years? That can’t be right, Amanda thought. Perhaps selling a mansion took longer than a normal property. But this advert provided no clues to the property’s past. Amanda made herself a coffee and thought a while. Then she had an idea. She went back on the internet and found the details of a local library.

  She snuck out quietly, closing the door silently behind her. It took a good forty minutes to drive to the local town. Finding the library was easy, only a few shops lined the cobbled stone high street. The library was at the end in an old brick building. Amanda entered and saw a female librarian sitting behind a desk.

  “Hi there.” Amanda flashed a smile.

  “You’re not from around here.” The librarian said. She was perhaps in her sixties, with a round face, her spectacles dangled around her neck on a beaded chain. “Have you just moved here, Dear?” She gave Amanda a smile.

  “Yes I am. I mean, I’m just visiting the area. My friends and I are staying out in the forest. We wanted somewhere rural to study.”

  “How wonderful to see young people so keen to learn.” She smiled.

  “I’m here as I want to research the house I’m staying in. Do you have any information on local history?”

  “Why yes, we have copies of the local paper going
back a hundred years. I can help you look through them if you like?”

  “Great, you see we are staying at this place called Prescott House and some strange things are happening there.” Amanda said. “Can you help me?”

  “The papers are at the back.” The librarian said, her voice suddenly stern. She loped away.

  “Ok.” Amanda said. The librarian proceeded to pick up a pen and returned to looking at the paperwork in front of her. Amanda went to the newspaper records section, baffled at the woman’s change of tone.

  When she got to the back, Amanda was expecting some kind of digital catalogue to look through, what she found instead were piles of yellowing newspapers. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She said to herself. She looked at a shelf and picked up a newspaper; The West Forest Gazette, 25th January 1963. There was shelf upon shelf of papers. She decided to go through the papers one by one, until she found something of interest.

  Two hours later Amanda was still going through the papers, shelf by shelf. It was getting close to twelve. Amanda decided to look around the town for somewhere to buy food. Amanda got up to go and headed past the librarian at the door.

  “I’m going to get lunch, will you be open this afternoon?” Amanda said. The librarian mumbled something under her breath, which sounded like a yes.

  Amanda returned to the library an hour later. She had discovered a delicatessen in the little town, where she had picked up a sandwich. She ate sitting on a bench overlooking a park. The deli owner had not been that friendly to her either. Amanda was starting to think this was a strange little town.

  Amanda walked back into the library, ignoring the woman behind the desk who was still there. She headed to the newspaper section and carried on looking through the pile she had left out on the table. She still had not found any mention of Prescott House. She picked up the next paper, dated 2nd October 1959. She flicked through slowly, bored of looking. Then she had a strange thought. She looked back at the previous paper she had been looking at, it was dated the 4th September 1959. That is strange, she thought. All the papers had been in chronological order so far, but the papers dated the 11th, the 18th and the 25th were missing. She looked through the rest of the newspapers on that shelf. They were all in order of date. She pulled out all the papers from that year and counted them. There were forty-six, that meant six were missing. Amanda marched over to the librarian. She didn’t look up.