Haunted House Tales

by Riley Amitrani

  The Haunted House Vlog- Welcome to the Haunted House. A black and white shot of their house came up on screen, with the title fading in over the top. It was a collage of shots of the day they moved in. The removal men working, Jess carrying boxes in. Then Mickey talking over the top.

  “Hey Guys Mickey here, and welcome to my first Haunted House Vlog. I am a big fan of haunted houses so when I found this one up for sale, I jumped at the chance to buy it. The story is Magnolia house, although built only in the 1970s is as haunted as some buildings twice its age or older. In the seventies a couple lived here, Evelyn and Simon. They lived here with their four-year-old daughter Sarah. One day, Sarah disappeared…. And was never seen again.” As he was talking there were shots of the inside of the house and Jess painting the walls, tidying the garden. She had been completely oblivious to the sinister reason he was filming her. “Since then the house has sat empty. But legend has it Sarah can still be found behind these walls. Neighbours have seen her standing at the window. Balls have been thrown from the garden, and there has been the sound of a child crying from this empty house. It is like the ghost of Sarah has returned home and is still waiting for her parents to come back.”

  Jess clicked in the next episode, titled The Cellar “I knew when I purchased the house that there was a cellar that the old owners had covered up. But I didn’t know where it was. I wouldn’t have guessed it would be my partner Jess who found it first.” As he spoke, Jess was on screen the day that they found the cellar. The footage showed Mickey as he followed her down the stairs. The hatch slamming shut on them. Jess felt sick watching the footage. She skipped to the third and final video. It was filmed only earlier that night. It was the séance. Then the video cut to an interview. Mickey was interviewing the man. They were talking like they had known each other for years, yet he had claimed that he was just a casual acquaintance. Jess felt a cold breeze behind her she turned around and saw Mickey. He was standing behind her.

  “Why are you in my garage?” He asked. He stood in the doorway.

  “Your garage? It’s our house. What the hell have you been making in here Mickey?” Jess stood up and pointed at the screen, which was frozen on a shot of the doll. It’s face smirking on the screen.

  “My Vlog I’m going to launch soon. You knew I was making one.”

  “I thought it was going to be a lifestyle one about renovating the house, and fixing cars. Not us and our haunted house!” Jess shouted. “You knew the rumours before we bought this place and you didn’t tell me?”

  “I knew if I did you wouldn’t want to move in” Mickey said, shrugging.

  “Of course I wouldn’t want to move in, I thought the cost of the house seemed too good to be true. What about the cellar? You knew it was there all along!”

  “I did, but I didn’t tell you, as that is where the neighbours had said that the noise had been coming from. I don’t even believe all this haunted house nonsense anyway. I just thought it would be a good way of making an ad revenue.

  “You don’t even believe it! What about the door slamming shut when we looked in the cellar?” Mickey didn’t say anything, he just pulled a weak smile and looked down sheepishly. “Are you telling me you faked it?” He nodded. “You bastard! That scared the hell out of me! What about the séance?”

  “I faked it. He’s just a mate who used to be an actor. It thought it would add a lot to the videos if I had someone conduct a séance. I’m sorry, I was going to tell you. I thought if I did a few videos and they were successful you would be pleased.”

  “Pleased? Pleased that you lied to me? I don’t think so.” Jess started to move to the front of the garage, but Mickey stood in her way. “Get out of my way Mickey.” He glared at her, then moved aside.

  Jess stormed back inside the house. She wasn’t looking where she was going as she went into the kitchen. She had to stop herself from almost falling into the cellar which was wide open.

  “What the actual hell Mickey! Why is the cellar door open? If this is another Kodak moment then forget it, I’m not falling for it.” Jess looked outside to the garage, but the door was shut. He had shut himself in. Jess knelt down and grabbed hold of the cellar hatch. Then she heard a faint mewing sound coming from inside.

  “Bella?” She called down. She heard silence. Jess looked down into the darkness. She couldn’t see anything. She went to the cupboard under the sink and found a torch. Turning back she went to the steps and started walking down them. “Bella?” She hissed, not sure why. She wasn’t as afraid of the house now she knew that Mickey had been tricking her into thinking it was haunted, all for the sake of his own gain. She shone the torch below and looked around. Then she saw Bella lying on the floor. Her neck was bent at an unnatural angle. She was dead. Jess ran down the last couple of steps and collapsed on the floor. She scooped Bella up into her arms, she was still warm. How had Bella got into the cellar, and who had broken her neck? Jess heard a noise behind her, she turned around but there was nothing there. Then she heard a noise, the sound of a child giggling. She looked up, it had gone light. She saw a ball bounce down the steps in front of her. It was the red rubber ball she kept tripping over. Then a little girl followed, she was only four or so. It was Sarah. She was carrying the doll in one hand, but the doll looked different. It looked newer and was wearing a brightly coloured dress. Sarah tried to reach down to pick up the ball, but she tripped and fell down the last few stairs. She landed at the bottom, her head smacking on the ground as she did and her neck snapping. She was dead. A while later a woman came running down the stairs, she was wearing a long mustard dress. It must have been her Mum. She screamed and scooped the girl up into her arms. She scooped Sarah up into her arms and cried. Eventually she put her lifeless body down. She went upstairs and then came back a while later with a shovel and a sheet. She wrapped the girl up in it. She then lifted a tile off of the floor. She got a spade and dug a hole. Then she placed the girl’s body into it and placed the tile back on top. The woman went back upstairs, Jess followed. The woman locked the cellar hatch. The woman went into the living room. It looked different it was decorated and clean. Jess watched as the woman took the gas fire off of the wall and put the key in a tin hidden inside. Then it went black.

  Epilogue

  Jess looked out of her twelfth storey window to the bustling street below. Central London, her favourite place. She turned and looked around the studio apartment. It was all she could afford to rent by herself, but now she had a job working for a newspaper, she knew that both the job and the apartment were stepping stones to greater things.

  It had been six weeks since her last night at Magnolia house. After Jess had found Bella dead, she had had a terrible hallucination of the past. She had no idea of what she had seen was real or not, she hadn’t stuck around to tell. After she had woken up on the cellar floor, next to Bella’s lifeless body, she had ran away and stayed with Mrs Hobbs next door. The next day she had gone to go and stay with her Mum in Kent. Now, six weeks later she had rented her own place. Mickey had agreed to buy her out of the house.

  Jess had seen in the news that the police had visited Magnolia House. They had lifted the tiling in the basement and discovered Sarah’s body. Her cause of death was a broken neck. With her parent’s dead, there was no one to arrest. She had been given a burial plot at a church close to the house. Jess learnt most of these details from Mickey’s YouTube channel. It had received over two million views. He had since started visiting other supposedly haunted houses around London and investigating them.

  “Excuse me?” There was a knock on the door behind her. It was the delivery man, dropping off her few boxes of belongings. He gestured for instruction on where to put them.

  “By the kitchen units will be fine,” Jess said. She only cared about one box, and that was the one he had bought in first. She opened it immediately. On the top of the box, wrapped up in a blanket was a framed photograph. It was her holding Bella back when she was a kitten. Jess took i
t out and placed it on the windowsill. She stood looking at it, until the man had finished and she was left all alone. It was strange being somewhere so quiet. Without Bella mewing and purring. And without Mickey. She didn’t regret leaving him for a second, but she was struggling to not miss him. Jess went over to the boxes and opened one at random. It contained kitchen supplies, which she unpacked them and put them away. She broke down the box and opened the next. It was bathroom towels. She got them out and folded them, ready to put in her airing cupboard. There was something at the bottom of the box. It was a plastic supermarket bag with something inside. She picked it up and reached in. She lifted out what was inside. It was the doll. Sarah’s doll. She had not packed it. She had no idea how it had got in there She dropped it and screamed. She stood back and backed up into a corner of the room. As she did she heard the noise of a child’s laugh coming from behind her.

  The Haunting of Excelsior Hotel

  By Riley Amitrani

  The Excelsior: The Grand Opening….

  Blackpool UK, circa 1925

  The Excelsior was a grand addition to the seaside town of Blackpool in the early 1900’s as a luxury accommodation to what had become a popular resort community on the shores of the Irish Sea of England. The construction of the expansive hotel was lauded by everyone as the perfect addition to the attractions that already drew flocks of Brits there, such as the Blackpool Tower and Pleasure Beach. Prior to its completion, there were only modest accommodations available, and the more well-to-do travelers flooded its doors as the elegant touches there spoke to their self-proclaimed status. With the rise of The Excelsior, Blackpool was transformed from an attraction of the common man of industrialized England of the 19th century, to one of a major resort community aimed at the elite as the economy evolved with the advent of the next century.

  The increase in Blackpool’s population was attributed to the change in the seaside resort’s character and no one could deny that the stately Excelsior was not at the epicenter of it all. The locals had a new source of employment and despite what some saw as a possible clash of class lines between the guests of the hotel and the people who were responsible for keeping it running, nothing ever manifested in that regard. Granted there was little if any intermingling among the guests and its employees, but there was as well no overt sign of any trouble between the two groups either. The employees and other businesses in town that relied on The Excelsior for their livelihood realized that situation and never showed any resentment toward those more fortunate than themselves who frequented the hotel.

  All was well and prosperous for all those connected to The Excelsior at all levels, and word soon spread about the idyllic atmosphere that was available to all who could afford to stay there. As well, the dip in the economic fortunes of other towns in Britain drew many new residents to Blackpool as there seemed to be unlimited opportunity for work at the Blackpool resort. However, in 1925, though it was not immediately apparent, a curious and macabre cloud was falling over the once stylish hotel. On August 23, a man by the name of Harold Grant checked into The Excelsior and was assigned to room 33. Harold was not well-known as a lot of the guests of the hotel were at the time, but he would certainly not have been out of place among the average type of guest of that day either.

  Harold checked in alone and went straight to his room to settle in, asking not to be disturbed as he needed to rest after a long journey from London. He paid in cash up front and pre-paid for several days, stating he was unsure of how long he might want to take the room. No one thought more of it, as Harold was just another of the faceless, wealthy customers the staff dealt with every day. The bellman dropped off the luggage for him as usual, and thanked him profusely for the generous tip…it was not an outrageous gratuity, but just perhaps a bit more than what the bellman was normally accustomed to.

  The staff returned to its regular routine as it was shaping up to be a busy weekend, as lots of visitors were arriving to take a last-minute vacation before the warm temperatures of the summer were chased away by the arrival of fall. The bellman and his assistants moved constantly up and down the floors as more and more guests checked in. They passed by room 33 numerous times as the afternoon went on, but at no time did anyone notice anything out of the ordinary about the room other than the “do not disturb” sign hung from the door knob. Perhaps unusual for that time of day, but they never questioned anything one of their guests might do, as long as it was within the decorum of day. Many of their visitors were what were often described generously as “eccentric” and there was not an employee anywhere from top to bottom who could not suffer these eccentricities in lieu of the tip they might lose by saying anything.

  A few hours after Harold had checked in, the rush of arrivals began to slow and the host at the registration desk was able to relax. He had just drawn himself a quick cup of tea when he was summoned to the lobby by what was clearly a very distressed guest. It was a major part of his job to keep everyone pleased and carefree in their stay. The last thing he wanted was any sign of commotion or a flap from one of the guests that might spill over and tarnish the stellar reputation of The Excelsior…the owner had made this very clear upon hiring Ted Ingalls. He could see such a situation now brewing just across the way and he abandoned his tea without even a taste to keep the situation from escalating any further.

  As he left his station, he was already being summoned with great urgency by the man he had spotted as the man was helping his wife to a chair, her demeanor giving off the impression she might just keel over at any moment. Another part of Ingalls’ key responsivities was to have complete recall of all the guests’ names, so that a more personal touch could be used for all interaction with their elite clientele. Especially when addressing a problem. This was one of the owner’s non-negotiable mandates. And so far, Ted Ingalls had to agree that implementing this strategy was often helpful in calming the frayed nerves of more irate guests, regardless of how minor the issue.

  “Mr. Andrews,” Ingalls said as he approached the couple, “what has happened?”

  “It’s our room, man!” the obviously distraught and annoyed Andrews spit at him.

  “Your room? Is something not to your satisfaction?”

  “Hardly! You can see how it has nearly incapacitated my wife!”

  Ingalls looked over at the obese lump of a woman who could barely fit in the oversized chair. He was used to catering to all manner of demands, so he immediately put on his best face of empathy and compassion as he looked with great concern on the woman as her husband frantically fanned her while she moaned as if in great distress.

  “I can see, Mr. Andrews! Please tell me the problem and I will take care of it immediately.”

  “It’s the stench, man! Our room smells like some sort of foul cess pit!”

  “Cess pit, sir?”

  “Yes! It is hard to narrow it down exactly, but the primary problem is it reeks of sulfur!”

  “Sulfur! Oh, dear, that will not do. I am very sorry. How about we move you to our Executive Suite at no extra charge on an upper floor?”

  “Yes. Thank you. That would be wonderful.”

  “Can I do anything else to help? Maybe call a physician to make sure Mrs. Andrews is alright?”

  “No, thank you very much. I think she just needs to rest here. Maybe get her some fresh air.”

  “As you wish, sir. I will have our staff transfer all your belongings to the new suite. Please come see me when it is convenient and I will give you the new key. And again, please accept my deepest apologies for the inconvenience.”

  The man just waved him away as he returned to attend to his wife. Ingalls strode off to the front desk and made a visibly vocal order to two of his bellman to check it out. It was just loud enough to make sure that the Andrews could hear him, but not so loud as to upset anyone else that might have been within ear shot. It was a skill he had honed over time to appease his overly sensitive guests.

  “Thomas! William! Please check out room 32. Th
ere is an overpowering odor of sulfur that has made it impossible for the Andrews to stay there any longer. Move all their belongings to the executive suite, number 118, immediately and then go back and find out what is going on up there and get it fixed!”

  The bellmen hustled off at once, playing along with their supervisor’s drama. This had not been the first time the three of them had performed such theater for a guest and they knew the drill. They all knew it was most probably just some minor smell that had drifted in from the shore. A lot of their guests were not accustomed to the various scents that were common here on the Irish Sea coast…it was a common complaint. Ingalls looked up to see Mr. Andrews helping his whale of a wife through the lobby and outside as she continued to moan and wail. Ingalls smiled at the man as he nodded his approval at the swift action taken.