Haunted House Tales

by Riley Amitrani

  “Some dog sitter, I am.” Sarah said out loud to herself as she laughed and headed back to the den.

  Sarah could not find anything of interest on TV at the moment, and began to look over the books on the shelf in the den. They seemed to be mostly old classic works of literature, specifically stuff she was supposed to have read in high school and even in her freshman English class at Wesleyan, but had not. The spines seemed old and weathered and cracked, with a lot of the titles barely readable as she perused the shelves. The longer she looked, the odder it felt. Who, she thought, would not have even a few contemporary items in what seemed to be a personal library? If you were trying to impress someone, then that was one thing, but even what was here looked to not have been very carefully taken care of. They looked as if they might fall apart in her hands if she removed one, not to mention the thin coating of dust that clung stubbornly to them all.

  Upon a closer inspection, there were even a few stray cobwebs spanning the narrow gaps between the books and the shelves in places. Everything here just seemed to add to the atmosphere of being eerie and out of date. She was feeling a growing chill as she paced about, but she decided it was just her imagination as the outside temperature was fairly mild for late October. She was convinced it was just the eccentricity of the house itself, which seemed to be a perfect match for Peter himself. She rubbed her upper arms with her hands to try and warm up, wishing Lacey would get a move on and show up. The combination of the house, no dog, and being alone was making it worse she was sure.

  As the clock passed the eight o’clock mark, Sarah went back to the couch and gave the TV another shot, thinking that maybe something interesting might have shown up in the changeover of the new hour. After trying a few channels, she found a cheesy old classic of a Dracula film. It was not Bela Lugosi, for sure, and the acting was so over the top, Sarah was finding it more humorous than scary. At least, she thought, the pre-Halloween movies that she and Lacey were hoping for seemed to be starting. Certainly, they would get better as the night went along. Just faintly, and from what sounded like it was coming from upstairs, Sarah detected the light patter of feet. Mr. Toby, it seemed, had decided to grace her with an audience, she figured.

  “Toby! I’m down here, boy! Come on!”

  At first there was nothing, as the footfalls slowed down and then stopped, so Sarah tried again calling for the dog even louder.

  “Come on buddy…I could use your company…”

  She heard a sharp, single bark and smiled imagining the dog trying to decide if it was safe enough to join this strange woman in his house. However, there were no more sounds of feet on the floor above and Sarah sighed in disappointment as she was sure she was about to get his company at last. She looked back to see what The Count was up to and the image on the screen flickered a bit and then just turned into static with no discernible picture at all. The sound as well had morphed into an annoying background that matched the screen. Sarah frowned, wondering if the reception was going out. The rest of the lights in the house seemed fine, so she assumed it was just the TV itself and she used the remote to move onto another station to check.

  The next channel was fine, so it appeared as if it had just been an issue with that particular channel. No big loss, Sarah mused, based on the quality of the film…the new channel was broadcasting one of the dated slasher movies from when she was a kid. A homicidal maniac harassing a bunch of kids at some camp…how in the world had she ever found these things to be even remotely scary? Despite the campy production, Sarah did find herself drawn back into the thing and even jumped a bit in her seat when the first kid to go got a spear through the chest as he slept. She laughed at herself after the fact, glad that Lacey had not been there to see it. She would never have heard the end of that one…

  As the movie went to a commercial, Sarah got up and went to the kitchen to get a Coke. She pushed through the swinging door that led from the dining room and reached over to flip on the overhead light. Nothing happened. She flipped it up and down a few times, but still no light. In the back of her mind, she thought that this was just like one of the slasher films. The girl alone in the spooky old house and the lights won’t work…she shook her head as she snickered at herself. She was really letting that movie get to her it seemed. All the same, she would be much relieved when Lacey arrived. She felt her way across the darkened kitchen to the opposite wall and found another light switch. She flicked it up and voila!...lights! Just a bad circuit she guessed…

  As she was pouring the cola into a glass, Sarah looked across the floor from where she was standing toward the dining room entrance. She set the empty can on the counter, and reached for the glass when she froze. In a crooked path, she watched as what looked like bloody footprints began to appear on the tile floor. The odd thing was, though, that as soon as each subsequent print appeared, the one behind it vanished, like the tile was absorbing each splotch of blood as soon as the next print showed up. There was not any sound associated with the prints, not even a wet squelching that she might have expected from footsteps and fresh blood. But the prints themselves looked like fresh blood being left behind.

  Sunnyday House Comes Alive

  Sarah screamed and dropped the glass on the floor as the prints moved past her and toward the back door that led from the kitchen and outside. She trembled in fright as she watched the appearing and then disappearing prints go right out past the door. The door never opened, but she got the feeling that whatever had been making them had either gone through the door or just vanished. Sarah covered her face with her hands, wondering what she had just seen. Or had she just imagined it? She peered through her fingers, afraid the steps might be reversing their direction back toward the dining room. But as she looked out, there was nothing…just the spilled cola in among the shards of glass at her feet.

  She walked around the mess and looked closer at the tile, but there was no evidence at all of what she thought she had just seen. She cautiously opened the swinging door and peered into the dining room, but all was as it had been just moments before. She did not want to, but she gathered her courage and pried open the stubborn door leading out of the kitchen to the backyard. There was nothing in that direction either that would have been responsible. Just a small porch with a couple broken-down lawn chairs and an old charcoal grill that had seen better days. Crickets chirped and a faraway dog barked…that was it.

  Sarah exhaled with relief and was about to shut the door and go back inside, when the lid of the grill, sitting askew on its base, covered in dust and grease, trembled, shaking the spider webs that were spanning the small opening. She felt her heart race and took a step backwards toward the kitchen, not realizing she was holding her breath. She was terrified, but for some reason could not look away either. The trembling of the lid as it shook slightly began to increase and Sarah screamed at the top of her lungs and cowered back as a chubby gray squirrel burst from the grill racks and shot across the yard and up a tree sending the lid crashing to the porch floor with a resounding clatter.

  Sarah fell back against the frame of the door as the adrenaline that had been coursing through her body drained away, leaving her legs shaking and her pulse pounding. She was not sure who was more frightened, the squirrel or her. Without any other recourse, Sarah let her body slide down to the floor as her rubbery legs were no longer adequate to hold her up. She felt simultaneously relieved and embarrassed and just sat for a few seconds until her heart slowed and she could catch her breath. She pulled her legs toward her and sat with them crossed, Indian-style, as the squirrel sat on the end of a branch of the tree and chastised her for having interrupted him.

  She stood up slowly when her legs were steadier and went back to the kitchen. Sarah retrieved a whisk broom and a dust pan to sweep up the broken glass. After tossing them into the garbage, she pulled off some paper towels to begin mopping up the liquid. Just as she was finishing up, Sarah looked over to the door leading into the dining room to see Toby sitting quietly watching he
r. She sat back on her heels and looked at him as he grinned at her—that is if you believe dogs can do this—and just watched her.

  “Hey, pal…did you happen to catch that pathetic display?”

  Toby just sat, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

  “If you did, I’d appreciate it if you’d just keep that between you and me, OK?”

  Toby cocked his head sideways at her as if he was confused.

  “There’s a milk bone in it for you if you can…”

  The dog just stared at her and Sarah laughed and dumped the soggy paper towels on top of the broken glass. She’d have to let Peter know about this and have him take it out of her payment. Sarah retrieved a replacement Coke, but decided to forgo the glass this time, just carrying the can with her as she headed back to the den. Toby stood up and let her walk by him as she opened up the swinging door, following along behind. Just as Sarah was passing through the dining room, she froze in her tracks once again as a series of steps raced across the floor upstairs. She looked down at Toby.

  “You heard that, too, huh, boy?”

  He gave her a weak woof and sat at her heel. The sounds, she realized, were eerily similar to what she had heard earlier, and had assumed, incorrectly apparently, that they had been from Toby. But Toby was sitting at her side…this definitely was not the dog this time. Sarah felt her body tense again as she set the Coke can on a side table just outside the den. She looked up at the ceiling as the footsteps, definitely sounding like that belonging to more than one person, pattered back and forth across the floor above. Sarah tiptoed into the living room near the staircase that went upstairs and listened again. The sound was still there but not as loud as before.

  Sarah went to the bottom of the stairs and yelled up the opening.

  “Hello? Is anyone there?”

  Immediately the sounds ceased and the house was instantly quiet save the dialogue that was bleeding out of the den from the television. She looked around and walked silently over to the fireplace to retrieve the poker from the upright stand on the hearth before moving back to the stairs. It was still silent from above.

  “You still with me, boy?” Sarah whispered to the last place she had seen Toby.

  She looked down and could not see him. She then looked all over the living room and dining room and even into the den, but Toby was nowhere to be found.

  “Man’s best friend indeed…”

  Sarah took a deep breath and gripped the poker tight in a sweaty palm as she moved tentatively up the stairs, taking each step slowly. When she had reached the upper level, she called out again, but received nothing back but the echo of her own voice off the walls of the corridor. She flipped on lights as she moved along, searching carefully through each of the bedrooms as well as the bathroom, but as far as she could tell, there was no one around. And from the lack of recent cleaning, it did not appear as if anyone had been there for some time. There was an odd layer of dust on everything on the upper level…apparently housekeeping was not Peter’s strong suit…maybe due to his age he just lived downstairs now to avoid climbing the long flight of stairs…

  Sarah exhaled in relief again as she doubled back, turning out lights as she went. Now she was really wondering what her imagination seemed to be cooking up. Phantom footprints in the kitchen…sounds from up here…she was just leaving the hallway to head back down when a very loud thud reverberated from downstairs. Sarah stopped, her lead foot in midair over the first step down as her heart thudded as well.

  “That,” she said out loud, “was definitely not my imagination…”

  Sarah in Trouble

  Sarah gripped the poker in both hands now as fat droplets of perspiration ran down her temples and back. She wiped away the stinging sweat from her eyes as she paced measuredly down the stairs holding the poker out in front of her like she was a Samurai warrior going to battle. When she was about halfway down, she figured it was a good time to call out again. It never worked in the movies, but what the hell…

  “Hello? Who’s there?”

  No response. No sounds but the TV and the wind outside that had suddenly picked up from out of nowhere. The creaking of the eaves on the old house and the intermittent rattling of the window shutters was not helping calm Sarah’s nerves. Maybe the dog had just knocked something over.

  “Toby? Come here boy!”

  Still nothing in response. Sarah tried to take measured, even breaths, but her body was definitely not in alignment with her brain as her respirations were heavy and irregular, almost coming in gasps now. She wiped her hands on her jeans and regripped the poker as she inched her way down to the lower level. The living room was empty and quiet with no indication that Toby had run into something and knocked it over. Sarah moved cautiously from room to room, only to find that nothing had changed since she had gone upstairs. Both the front and back doors were secure and the only sounds as she stood in the dining room were the TV and the wind. Sarah knew she had not imagined such a loud disturbance, but as hard as she tried she could not figure it out.

  She placed the poker back in the stand and went to the bathroom to wash her face with cold water which she hoped would settle her nerves. Whatever it was, it was beyond her understanding at the moment and it made no sense to waste any more energy fretting over it. The crash she had heard had definitely put her nervous system on a ten for being freaked out, but maybe it had been the wind. The creepy house was certainly getting to her and she was beginning to wonder if it all was making what Peter had offered her worth it. Well…she was here now and she would manage. Sarah grabbed the Coke from the side table and settled back in to watch TV.

  In all the excitement, she had lost track of Toby. In fact, she could not really remember having seen him since she was mopping up the kitchen floor. He seemed to be pretty calm and stable, not like the little jittery “ankle-biters” her aunt had back in Hartford, but with everything she had heard…or at least thought she had heard…it was not shocking to her that Toby had made himself scarce. The slasher movie was just winding up and Sarah sighed deeply as a huge round of commercials came on prior to the next feature film. The last ad played out and Sarah sat back to relax as the credits for the movie flashed on the screen.

  However, in the middle of all the titles and credits, the TV once again began to sputter and flicker with the accompanying sound of static from the speakers. Sarah hunted around on other channels, but this time it seemed as if whatever the problem was, it was affecting all the stations. The flickering got worse and the TV finally just went off, leaving just this odd small white dot in the center of the screen, like a pupil in an eyeball. Sarah checked the plug, but it was fine. She furrowed her brow as she stood in the middle of the den with her hands on her hips realizing this would put a crimp in the plans she and Lacey had. Oh well, she thought…we can always just pig out on pizza and gossip. No sooner had Sarah had that thought, when the overhead lights and the lamps on the tables in the den began to follow suit with the TV. They flickered and sputtered, going on and off regularly before just giving up completely, leaving her in the dark.

  “Shit…” Sarah said as she fumbled toward the door and felt her way along the furniture to see if there was a flashlight in the kitchen.

  She was not especially bothered by the dark, but in this house it was a bit unsettling. Whatever was going on, it had hit the whole house. Maybe the wind had blown down some lines or something. Sarah used the light on her cell phone to navigate her way through the kitchen and hunt through the drawers for a flashlight. Peter did not seem to have one, but she did manage to find a few candles and some matches in the utility drawer next to the sink. As she lit the candles and made her way back to the den, walking with care so as not to make the flames sputter any more than was necessary, Sarah could not help but roll her eyes. Spooky old house…bloody footprints…unexplained footsteps and crashing thuds…no electricity…and now flickering candles…what a stereotype this place was turning into.

  She sat with
her phone and checked to see if she had missed a text for Lacey, but she had not even responded to her first message. She tried calling, but Lacey’s phone went straight to voicemail. Sarah was getting frustrated. Even if she had an interest in reading one of the ancient old books from the den, the weak light of the candles seemed hardly adequate. She sat with her phone in her lap and stewed, not knowing what to do. To top it all off, the den was suddenly feeling really cold. Not just the chill of fall cold, but like the interior temperature had dropped twenty or thirty degrees all of a sudden.

  She took a candle and retrieved her coat from the closet as she was beginning to be able to see her breath inside the house as she exhaled. Sarah poked around the other rooms to see if they were as cold. There was definitely a new chill to the air, but not like what it felt like in the den. The Coke had caught up to her as well, so Sarah headed off to the bathroom to use the toilet. She flushed when she was done and washed and dried her hands. She looked into the mirror in the bathroom as she was straightening her hair and leaned over to grab the candle she had brought with her.

  However, when she straightened up, she saw the reflection in the mirror of a child’s face just off her shoulder. The little girl looked to be about nine or ten years old, and smiling broadly as a child of that age might, but all across her face and down her neck and throat were rivulets of blood. Sarah screamed, dropping the candle on the floor as she stumbled out of the bath, backpedaling frantically in terror. It was an inexplicable mix, that angelic smile coated with blood…the most nightmarish thing Sarah had ever seen. She fell awkwardly to her rear as her heels caught on a strip of metal in the floor. But the image of the child seemed to be following her.