Haunted House Tales

by Riley Amitrani

  “Where to kids?” the driver asked as he engaged the meter.

  “River Point Drive, please….” Bert said as he exhaled deeply and let his head fall back on the cushion of the seat.

  There was something about that voice that Jamie knew, but in her still woozy condition she could not quite place it. Following the whir of the meter, Bert heard a loud clunking sound and saw that all the locks on the doors had been engaged. He looked over and what he saw filled him with a panic: there were no door handles on the interior anywhere in the cab.

  “River Point Drive, you say?” said the cabbie as he put his arm on the back of the front seat and turned and smiled.

  Both Bert and Jamie froze in place. The voice came to her at once.

  “How about we go to a little place I know. You’ll love it. It has gone by many names over the years, but I always preferred the simplest one…I’m sure you’ll recognize it. It’s called hell…”

  And with that, Dr. Malone raised a privacy screen between him and Bert and Jamie as they madly clawed and kicked ineffectively at the divider and the doors, leaving them nothing to hear but his maniacal, terrifying cackle of laughter as he drove them away from the hospital…

  The Haunting of Sunnyday House

  By Riley Amitrani

  Prologue

  Part 1

  Middlefield, CT, 1948

  It had been a long and unsettled time in most of the United States, but all the death and sacrifice and mayhem associated with World War II was finally over. For the masses of veterans returning home, as well as their relatives and extended family members, everyone was looking forward to trying to heal the scars, both physical and emotional, of the latest “war to end all wars”. And for Middlefield, CT this was true as well. The small town was steadily growing from its small population of just over a thousand in the early 1900s. The quiet and bucolic environs of Middlefield were much as they had been for decades preceding the war, and Peter Chadwell had specifically picked it as the perfect place to raise a family. The agricultural boon that had supported Middlefield for years, picked up right where it had left off after the war following a diversion of manufacturing for the war effort.

  Peter had settled into one of the many glens of Middlefield just before the turn of the century, seeing the opportunity for successful farming as well as apple orchards. He had done well, raising several children and making a name for himself in the area in the farming community. When World War I came along, Peter had done his duty, signing up immediately and heading off to Europe to be a part of the Allied effort in France. Peter knew all too well the horrors of war, as both his brothers were killed in in the war. David, his older brother was killed at the Second Battle of Marne in France, while his younger brother, Andrew, after having enlisted after lying about his age, perished in the Battle of Belleau Wood.

  Peter returned home, much conflicted about the war. He was grateful and appreciative for having survived the war relatively intact—just two minor bullet wounds to his legs. But the loss of his brothers, who he had been very close with, as well as the massive deaths and casualties he witnessed haunted him as he stepped back on American soil. He had never hesitated in stepping up to take part for his country after Germany, for all intents and purposes, declared open season on vessels travelling between the U.S. and Britain, as well as attempting to entice Mexico into an alliance with Germany against the U.S. But having seen war up close and been scarred by the sometimes-required brutality of war and loss of human life, Peter was not the same man he had been before.

  This was why in 1941, Peter felt his heart sink, when his son, Frank, enlisted in the army following the invasion of Pearl Harbor by the Japanese. He knew as well as anyone that things were desperate as the Axis powers seemed unstoppable as they plowed across Europe. And when a seemingly unprovoked attack in Hawaii occurred, he understood…he was filled with dread and fear for Frank, but he understood. Even after the American presence abroad, things looked iffy; Peter prayed for Frank’s safe return to the family business as well as his wife Sarah and their three children, Frank, Jr., Bess, and Emily. In his absence, Peter took over as a surrogate father doing all he could to try and provide as normal as possible environment for his grandchildren.

  Frank had been deployed to the war in the Pacific and when the family did not hear back from either the army, nor Frank himself for a long, long time, Peter feared the worst. He had seen the horrors and violence of war himself, and knew that it was often impossible to account for each individual soldier, despite gallant efforts. The kids missed their father, but the reality of why he was not around was not quite in their realm of understanding due to their ages. Sarah, however, fell into a deep depression when no word of her husband’s situation was forthcoming. For a long time, she tried as best she could to remain hopeful for his safe return, but the war ended and still there was no news of Frank. Many of her neighbors who had lost husbands or brothers came to her aid, and slowly Sarah arose from the black hole she had fallen into.

  Peter had grown closer to his grandchildren in this time as well, and Sarah soon found new love. Eddie Mincer, a man she had met through their church, had returned from the war in Europe and he and Sarah soon became more than just friends. Eddie had a lot of the same characteristics and values that Frank, Sr. had possessed, and more importantly, the kids took to him right away. Peter was thrilled that Sarah had someone new in her life. He was still grieving inwardly over the loss of his only son, but if he could have hand-picked another man for his daughter-in-law, he guessed Eddie Mincer would have been that man.

  The farming business was going well and Eddie had even come on board to help out Peter. Eddie had a deep background in the orchard business and Peter found his expertise to be a perfect match as he expanded this part of the farm. He had not yet proposed to Sarah, but Peter could tell it was just a matter of time. At this point, Eddie was part of the family in all aspects except legally. He had even brought the children a collie puppy one evening as a present. The pup, whom the children finally decided after much debate was to named Toby, seemed to be the final piece of the missing puzzle for the Chadwell clan. It was, as the 1940’s approached the 1950’s, about as stereotypically American as anyone of the day could imagine.

  On a sunny July afternoon, Eddie arrived at the doorstep of the farm looking somewhat pale and nervous. It was out of character for him, as he had always been very confident and self-assured, but Peter had a pretty good guess as to why. He smiled to himself and patted Eddie on the shoulder as he made himself scarce, taking the kids and Toby with him, so Eddie and Sarah could be alone. He offered a trip to the ice cream parlor in town as an excuse, and no more questions were raised about what was up as he piled everyone into his old beater Chevy pickup. Upon their return, Peter’s suspicions were indeed validated as Eddie and Sarah announced their engagement. Due to the long period of courtship, they announced they were to be married the following week.

  Peter and the kids were thrilled and Toby danced about the yard with them as well. The only down side for Peter was that he would now be facing a fairly empty home. Eddie had, on the sly, had a new home built just down the road from the farm, a new home for Sarah and the kids, which he was calling “Sunnyday House” as an homage to an old homestead that had belonged to his great-great-grandfather from England. That softened the blow for Peter a bit, knowing they would be just a walk away and he could see them often. There was still a pain in his heart for his son, Frank, but Peter had never been happier for Sarah and the kids after all they had been through in the last couple years.

  After the wedding, Sarah and the kids moved into Sunnyday House and other than being just a few minutes’ walk from the old farmhouse, life seemed as it had been. Eddie and Peter were working closely together as the combination of both men’s expertise were making the family agricultural business a booming success. The kids loved their new home. Toby had more land to explore than he could have covered in a lifetime—at least in a dog’s lifetim
e—and Sarah was floating on air. But as often happens, as a wise man once said, nothing lasts forever…

  Part 2

  On an early fall afternoon, as the carefree days of the kids’ lives was about to be interrupted for the start of yet another school year, an unexpected cloud moved in to settle over Sunnyday House. As part of a fund raiser at the children’s school, Sarah was in the kitchen baking cakes, being ably assisted by her three bakery interns. Eddie was off in the fields supervising some new apple pickers he and Peter had hired on for the fall harvest, when the sound of heavy and unexpected footsteps caused Sarah to turn from her mixing bowl. The sight she came upon could not have shocked and stunned her any more than if she had actually grabbed hold of a live electrical wire. Standing there in the doorway of the kitchen was Frank Chadwell, Sr. The mixing bowl slipped from her grasp and shattered on the floor, cake batter splaying across the tiles and onto the side of the oven. She could not talk…hell…she was having trouble even breathing.

  “Frank?” she asked incredulously when she finally got her breath.

  Frank, Jr., Bess, and Emily all looked up at Frank, but had no idea who this was.

  “Yeah…surprised?”

  “Kids…why don’t you run outside and play…”

  “Yeah, kids…go play…your mother and I need to talk.”

  Without any more encouragement, the children obeyed and shot out through the kitchen door, still well-dusted with flour and other baking ingredients.

  “I…we…you’re alive!”

  “So it seems. Not even a kiss for your long-lost husband?”

  Sarah felt her legs go rubbery and just sat heavily in one of the wicker-seated chairs before she hit the floor. As improbable as it seemed, there before her was her husband, Frank, who they had assumed had been killed in the Pacific.

  “How did you find us? I mean…”

  “I know what you mean, Sarah. It took some asking around, but Middlefield’s a small place. It wasn’t all that hard.”

  The man standing before her was definitely Frank. But in his face and his speech and his mannerisms, something was just not right. She could not put her finger on it exactly, but she was suddenly scared to be alone with him.

  “We never heard about you for so long, Frank. We just assumed…”

  Frank cut her off quickly.

  “Yeah…I see what you assumed. New house. New husband. Just conveniently decided I no longer mattered…that about cover it?”

  “No, Frank…it’s not that simple…let me expl…”

  “Quiet!!” His voice reverberated off the kitchen walls as he yelled at her.

  The force of his voice and the anger in his face and eyes made Sarah tremble. Whatever was not right about this Frank Chadwell was coming out. Never had he even raised his voice to her, much less screamed at such a volume.

  “Is my replacement around?” He nearly spat out the sentence.

  “Frank, please…”

  “Just answer the question, Sarah!!!!”

  She shook harder now, truly afraid for her safety.

  “He’s out…working…”

  “Guess I will wait then…in the meantime, however…”

  With no warning, Frank drew a combat knife from a sheath on his hip and raked it across Sarah’s throat as he pulled her head back violently to expose it more fully. Sarah had no chance to defend herself or even say another word as blood gushed from the wide slash Frank had made. Her head lolled back and she fell from the chair as he released her hair, blood mixing into the spilled cake ingredients from the shattered bowl. He wiped the blade on his pants and went to the door to call the kids in, using a voice that would in no way indicate anything was amiss.

  With no reason to suspect any danger, the children came running assuming their mother would introduce them to the visitor. They ran into the kitchen, only to freeze in their tracks as they spied their mother lying motionless on the kitchen floor amidst a pool of reddened flour and batter. Before they could react, Frank shoved the door closed with his foot and within a matter of minutes, dispatched the small, helpless children in much the same manner as he had Sarah. The shock of it all overwhelmed the kids and they stood inert as he slit their throats and dropped their lifeless bodies next to Sarah.

  Frank carefully cleaned the murder weapon and paced erratically like a caged tiger back and forth in the kitchen impatient for the return of Sarah’s new lover. The front door opened and Frank spun quickly at the sound, smiling sickeningly as he prepared to confront the man. However, when the swinging door that led from the dining room to the kitchen popped open, the man who entered was not a stranger to Frank…it was his father, Peter. Both men froze and just stared at each other as the recognition set in.

  “Frank?” Peter asked as he let his frame sink back into the wall and a dog leash trailed from his hand.

  “Greetings, Dad…”

  “Is it really you?” Peter had yet to see around the corner of the cabinets to discover Frank’s recent handiwork.

  “What’s left of me…after the Japs gone done dropping me into that shithole of a place that passed for a POW camp…”

  “Oh, Frank…we had no idea…we never heard anything…we thought…”

  “Yeah, I know what you thought, Dad…Sarah and I had a chat earlier…”

  For the first time, Peter picked up the same oddities of his son that Sarah had seen as being “off”. The look in his eyes and this uncontrollable tic in his cheek made Peter cautious. He had initially wanted to hug his son tight, but now he was not so sure…and it was not just the knife that was still in Frank’s left hand.

  “Where is Sarah? And the kids?”

  “They had a little mishap, Dad…”

  Frank turned away from his father and walked over to the sink to get a glass of water. Peter followed him, but at a distance until he looked down near the stove and saw the bodies. Peter had seen his share of blood and massacre in his days in the army. But this was not war time. And the bodies were not enemy soldiers…they were Sarah and his grandchildren.

  “What have you done, son?”

  “What I needed to do to survive…in Japan and now here. Just waiting on the new husband to return…”

  “Are you insane?”

  “Insane? Is that what you called me, Dad? After what I went through a million miles away. For my country. For my family. And to be just forgotten…dismissed…perhaps I am…”

  Before Peter could say another word, Frank was on him and they fell to the floor grappling wildly with each other. In his day, Peter could have more than held his own in a fight such as this, but the combination of the emotional shock and being vastly overmatched by his younger and more powerful son, he did not have a chance. With no emotion or other human feeling exhibited from Frank, Peter found himself on the floor with Frank’s knife buried in his chest up to the handle. Peter had always assumed a much more peaceful and dignified death for himself, but as his last breath left his body, all he could feel for his son was great sorrow. Frank left the knife buried where it was and stood, breathing heavily. Looking down, he did not see his loving father, but the body of the sadistic and brutal POW commandant from Japan who had visited him daily for “interrogations”. He waited until dark, but no one else came to the house. Perhaps there was no new husband after all. Deciding that had been a lie as well, Frank removed his knife from Peter’s chest and slid it into the sheath on his hip and left the premises.

  Part 3

  Eddie had gotten hung up in the storehouse with the picking foreman and it was late in the evening before he was able to get away and get home. As he approached Sunnyday House, he was surprised to see the house dark. Surely, he thought, Sarah would still be up with dinner for him even if she had put the kids to bed already. He pulled into the driveway and entered the darkened house to find it eerily silent. The only sight and sound that greeted him was Toby lying at the swinging door that led into the kitchen as he whimpered sadly.

  “Hey, boy…what’s the
matter?”

  Toby sat up quickly and thumped his tail while he pawed half-heartedly at the door. Eddie walked to the dog and scratched his ears. It was a natural reaction for him. But just then, the quiet was not the only oddity. The strong coppery odor hit Eddie like a wave. But it was not copper. His military service had made him more than able to detect the smell of blood when it happened. And this odor was not insignificant. This was nearly overpowering…how had he not detected this when he had first come inside?

  “Sarah?” Frank…Bess…Emily?”

  No answer.

  Peter?”

  Still no answer.

  So, it was just him and Toby and this stench. Eddie had a really bad feeling all of a sudden. Peter would never have just gone off and left Toby alone. He normally came over in the afternoons to check in on everyone and walk Toby. But he would never have left Toby out. The smell was definitely coming from the kitchen, but Eddie was not sure he was ready for what as on the other side of the door.

  “Sure wish you could talk, boy…”

  Toby just continued whining and pawing at the door, his nails making too loud a sound to Eddie’s ears. Eddie was scared, but knew he had to go in. He flipped on the overhead light in the kitchen as he eased open the door. He treaded softly and slowly as Toby clung to his heels. The kitchen was as quiet and seemingly deserted as the living room and dining room had been. But then Eddie looked across the floor to see spatterings of cake batter. But the batter seemed to be red….and then that smell hit him again.

  Toby refused to come along, sitting quietly at the door. Eddie continued along and when he came around the corner of the cabinets, he could not believe the scene of gore and slaughter that lay before him. Like Peter, he had seen more than his share of this type of thing during the war, but this was his family. Eddie fell to his knees and then just sat, not caring that his pants were soaking up the blood and other debris. He had no idea who might have done this, but what he did know was that he had lost everything in the world that really mattered to him. He wanted to reach over and touch the lifeless bodies of his wife and children, but something inside him would just not let him do it. Instead he buried his face in his hands and cried harder than he had since he was a child. Toby finally came to Eddie’s side, but he did not notice.