Haunted House Tales

by Riley Amitrani

  When they returned to the parlor, they found Rhiannon calmly lounging on the sofa, having resumed her viewing of the movie. She clicked the pause on the remote as Kristen and Drew burst into the room, their faces obviously communicating that there was something awry. She sat up, startled by their sudden appearance as both Drew and Kristen both tried to rapidly tell her what they had just seen. Rhiannon could see something unusual had just occurred, so she held up her hand like a traffic cop and had them calm down as they were both highly agitated and talking over each other rapidly, making it impossible for Rhiannon to understand either of them.

  “Whoa…whoa….one at a time, OK?” Rhiannon asked.

  Drew motioned for Kristen to tell the story and watched the disbelief in Rhiannon’s eyes and face as the story unfolded. Just as she was about to spout off another round of her mockery at them, rolling her eyes dramatically, Rhiannon felt her attention jerk to the parlor door as the three of them heard this hideous, piercing scream split apart the silence of the night. Rhiannon jumped from the sofa to follow Drew and Kristen as the three of them raced to the foyer to where the scream seemed to have originated from. They all skidded to a stop in their sock feet as they saw the crumpled and twisted body of Gladys Glass heaped at the base of the long flight of stairs. She was motionless and blood was draining from her mouth and nose. She was definitely not breathing.

  None of them had any medical background or training, but from the angle of her head relative to the rest of her body, it was quite obvious that she was dead, having suffered a broken neck. Rhiannon was speechless. Drew looked around in an attempt to find the possible perpetrator of Mrs. Glass’s murder. Kristen gasped at the sight and shivered noticeably as she looked on not knowing what to do. Just then, before any of them could say anything or even do anything else, a deafening cackle of the most unnerving and insidious laughter they had ever heard tore through the dark of the house.

  Kristen looked up the flight of stairs, as that was where the laughter seemed to be coming from, although it was becoming so prevalent, she might have said it was coming from all around them. As she squinted her eyes in the dim light of the foyer, Kristen felt like her soul itself had been chilled as she caught sight of a rider atop a horse at the very top of the flight of stairs. And just like Drew had described to them, this rider was missing its head. The image was a bit fuzzy and indistinct, but the overall apparition left nothing to the imagination.

  “That what you saw earlier, Drew?” Kristen asked, her voice cracking with fear.

  “The same,” he replied. “But larger and much more malevolent this time I think…”

  The rider’s maniacal cackling rose to a fever pitch, to a volume that seemed impossible based on a single person’s presence. The rider then reared the horse to its hind legs and turned to head down the stairs toward them. Despite all her ridicule earlier, even Rhiannon saw this spectacle and she joined in a scream with her friends as they leapt away from the staircase and made a frantic, desperate dash for the front door. However, despite having left it unlocked after having come in, the trio found the door frozen solidly in the frame. They all took turns yanking and tugging at the tall panel, but it would not budge. Thinking it had somehow gotten locked in the night, Rhiannon fumbled with the key Mrs. Glass had left her, the metal flange jittering all around the inset until it finally found a home.

  However, when she turned the key, it just broke off in the lock. The horseman was upon them! Just as the mighty stead with its passenger reached them, towering over the petrified group, they somehow had the presence of mind to slip under the horse’s belly and roll away toward the stairs. They sprinted up the flight as they heard the loud clatter of the horse’s hooves on the slick landing just inside the door as the rider redirected and struggled to reverse his direction. They topped out on the stairs, their eyes wild with fear, as their hearts pounded and they gasped for air. Moving as a group now, they just plunged ahead with no real plan of escape, just moving on adrenaline and instinct to get away from the apparition.

  With Kristen just a bit in the lead now, they raced to the right, moving only with the guidance of moonlight that was glinting into the dark hallway. Not knowing where to go or where to turn next, Kristen looked up to see a door slightly ajar just at the end of the corridor, a weak light bleeding into the night. The face of a frail old man came into view, his voice shouting for them to come this way quickly. She was not sure if the pale and febrile-looking man was real or maybe another apparition come to join the horseman, but there was no time to think it out. The horseman was ascending the stairs and would soon be on them again, so she led her friends toward the man and into the room.

  They spilled inside and slam the door behind them, locking it firmly in place. All three, gasping for breath and trying to understand that what they had just seen, no matter how improbable, It had in fact been a spirit apparently unleashed from the bowels of Glass Mansion. With their backs to the locked door, Kristen realized the feeling of safety from the approaching specter in the hallway was to be short-lived and temporary at best. As she looked upon the elderly frail specimen of a man who had offered them refuge, she realized this was Henry Glass. Like his wife, the family resemblance in his face was an easy match to all the photos and paintings scattered around the mansion.

  However, as opposed to his obviously very mobile and agile wife, Henry Glass looked like he could just fall over at any moment. He was seemingly bedridden for the most part, and Kristen was now completely baffled as to why the pair had been here in the house all along…what had all that subterfuge about a two-week European cruise been about? She had often heard the phrase “like walking death”, but until she had just this second met Henry Glass, she had not really appreciated the imagery. The poor man was struggling with each inhalation and his body shook violently with coughing fits. His eyes were red-rimmed and cloudy and his skin had a papery-thin appearance, pasty-white, and sickly-looking.

  For some reason, the pursuit of the horseman had ceased. Either he had passed by them in Henry’s room or he was planning another means of attack Kristen reasoned. As Henry sank back into the folds of his bed covers, she moved closer to sit beside the ailing patriarch hoping to get some insight on what in the hell was going on at Glass Mansion.

  “Henry? Mr. Glass?” Kristen asked quietly, “Why are you and Mrs. Glass still here? She hired our friend Rhiannon here to look after the mansion while you two were supposedly away on a holiday. What is going on here exactly?”

  He grimaced and a small tear ran from his left eye as he gave Kristen a sad and worried smile. With great effort, he went into the horrific tale of Edmund Glass and his reign of terror. He told her of how Edmund reappeared every five years to capture another soul for his collection. How he was so bent on revenge and anger toward the people of Carmarthen that he would never stop until he had accomplished his grisly goal. How he had held himself and Mrs. Glass prisoner here for many years as insurance that he succeed each time in his demented plot. That he would turn on them if they failed to assist him in his plan.

  Kristen looked up at Drew and Rhiannon seeing they were as shocked and incredulous at this revelation as she was. Rhiannon was, Kristen supposed, not such a skeptic anymore. And to his credit, Drew, despite his somewhat mild persona, was still standing tall and firmly in place. The one thing that Kristen could not get straight in her head was why the horseman was still on the warpath with them following his murder of Gladys Glass. If he demanded a new soul every five years, why was her death not enough? She looked back at the pathetic form of Henry Glass slumped on his bed and did not have the heart to broach this subject. She was afraid the news of his wife’s murder would push him over the edge. Based on his current condition, Kristen did not think it would take much to finish off poor Henry.

  Though the situation was enough to break Kristen’s heart, she did not have the luxury of wasting any more time feeling sorry for Henry Glass. She cleared her throat and plunged ahead.

  �
�Mr. Glass? How do we get out of here and away from Edmund?”

  “You can’t my dear. Edmund is too powerful. I am afraid you are trapped here with me in this old death trap. There is no escape. We are—all of you plus me—doomed to die in Glass Mansion.”

  Hasta La Vista, Henry

  Carmarthen, Wales, United Kingdom

  March 19, 2013, 4:30 AM

  “Not me, old man!” Rhiannon exclaimed as she leapt from her spot near the door, running to the window. “Not today, not on my watch…”

  With that, she flung open the flimsy window frame and climbed with haste through the opening. In all the excitement, none of them had noticed that the rain had returned in full force again. There was, thankfully, no thunder of lightning, but the rain was coming in a steady and plentiful onslaught. Rhiannon worked her way along the narrow ledge that was just outside the open window and inched along trying to get to the corner of the mansion where a vertical downspout was attached to the wall. She slipped on the ledge once or twice, but finally made her way to the old metal pipe and grasped around its circumference to use it as a means to the ground below.

  However, when she was only about a foot or two down from the upper level of the house, there was this sickening rending of metal and the old pipe gave way from its anchor to the house. With no time to think or worry, Rhiannon just reacted to the situation and fell backward, cartwheeling her arms in reaction to being suddenly airborne.

  “Rhiannon!” Kristen screamed as she and Drew ran to the open window and watched her descent through the pelting shower.

  For Rhiannon, fortunately, the second story was not very high and between that and her natural agility and some low scrub bushes that helped cushion some of her momentum, she fell awkwardly but was very much alive when she hit the ground. She lay still for a few seconds taking a quick inventory to make sure everything still worked. All her bones seemed intact as she felt the wave of adrenaline leave her system. She stood slowly and to her utter amazement found that all she seemed to have suffered in the ordeal was a twisted or maybe sprained ankle. She glanced back up at the horrified faces of Kristen and Drew and gave them a quick “thumbs up” to let them know she was OK.

  Rhiannon then limped a few feet away from the house, her clothes now drenched in water as a distant rumble of thunder finally echoed across the sky. She looked up into the heavy downpour.

  “Come on! Let’s get out of here!”

  Both Kristen and Drew looked down at her and then at the rain spout hanging away from the corner of the house with expressions of uncertainty.

  “It’s not that far, guys! And you can still probably use what is left of the drain pipe where it is still attached! I made it, you can, too! It’s either that or die in that mansion with Henry!”

  That last bit was all that it took to convince Kristen. She flashed back to the poor broken form of Gladys and all that she and Drew had heard and seen already. She looked to Drew and though she knew he was probably petrified beyond anything he had ever experienced in his life so far, he nodded his reluctant agreement. Kristen moved to the ledge as the rain pelted her, her legs shaking visibly from her nerves. She had never been a big fan of heights as it was and she was sure this was adding to her tremors. As quickly as she dared move, Kristen sidled toward the twisted downspout and was able to grapple onto the damaged cylinder and half-slid/half-climbed down until she had joined Rhiannon. Despite her opinion of him, Rhiannon watched in fascination and awe as Drew followed soon after, not hesitating for a second in his progress. In just a few seconds he was down as well and the trio stood, soaked to the skin.

  “Can you walk, Rhiannon?” Drew asked.

  “I think so. My ankle is just sprained at worst.”

  “Then let’s beat feet!” Kristen exclaimed as she turned to lead them away from the side of the house and toward the drive where Drew had left his car.

  She and Drew took off, but they soon realized that Rhiannon was not with them. Kristen looked back through the growing storm to see her friend barely able to hobble along. Apparently, she had hurt her leg more than she was letting on.

  “Drew! Wait!” Kristen shouted into the pattering of the rain into the mud.

  He spun back from near the car to see Kristen going back toward the house to help Rhiannon who was barely limping along. He ran to the where the girls were and helped Rhiannon to her feet as her leg finally gave out and she fell to her knees in the wet slop.

  “Here, Kristen…” Drew shouted over the downpour and the intermittent thunder. “Take the keys to the car and get it started. I’ll help Rhiannon to the car and we can get the hell out of here!”

  Kristen nodded vigorously as she caught the keys on a toss from Drew and headed to the dark form of his old sedan parked just across the yard in the drive. As the cold water ran from her head and face, Kristen slid behind the wheel to get the car ready for an emergency escape. However, as she grasped at Drew’s key ring, it slipped from her wet hands and fell to the mud just outside the open door. With a silent curse, Kristen jumped from the driver’s seat and ran her fingers through the growing mire to recover them. As she scooped up a handful of mud and keys, Drew appeared by the car with Rhiannon, now mostly carrying her as the wet conditions were adding to her inability to get any good traction with her one good leg.

  Oh, shit, Drew!” Rhiannon exclaimed as Drew got her to the car, “My phone! I think I must have dropped it when I fell or when you were helping me to the car! Can you go grab it?”

  Drew looked back through the rain and the growing mist that seemed to be inexplicably surrounding the mansion, not everywhere, just around the house. He scanned the ground thoroughly and finally spotted the obnoxious pink obelisk about halfway between the car and the mansion.

  “Here, Kristen…” Drew said as he handed Rhiannon over to her. “Help her into the back seat! I’ll grab the phone and then we are out of here!”

  Kristen nodded as she got her shoulder under Rhiannon’s arm and took over for Drew. After all that had happened that night and how Drew had taken charge, she was thoroughly impressed with him. She certainly hoped that Rhiannon was as well and that her friend would be coming away from this disaster of an evening with a renewed vision of Drew as well. As soon as Drew was sure that Kristen had Rhiannon securely, he dashed back to retrieve the fallen cell phone. Kristen watched with concern as Drew bent to scoop up the phone, urging him on silently as her heart pounded mercilessly. She turned, closing the rear door to the car once Rhiannon had slid fully inside and jogged around the rear of the car to move to the driver’s seat once more. However, as she looked up, what she saw as Drew was running back to the car made her nearly fall to her knees.

  She blinked her eyes, trying to both clear away the rain from her face and make sure she was not seeing what had materialized in front of her. But when she looked again, nothing had changed. In between herself and the car and the running Drew, the hideous and menacing sight of the headless horseman had materialized. Her legs quivered and she could not find her breath, much less her voice as it felt as if her heart would literally burst from her chest. Drew slid to a quick stop in the muck as the towering specter drew his stead up on its hind legs, the horse pawing wildly into the air with its front hooves as the Edmund-thing howled with the most-bone-chilling roar of ominous laughter and cackling glee that Kristen had ever heard in her life…even in the movies.

  Despite there not being a head on his body, the sounds emanating from the apparition were echoing across the outskirts of Carmarthen nevertheless. He spun the gigantic and dangerous-looking mount back and forth between them causing both Kristen and Drew to freeze in place, not knowing which way to turn. Acting out of impulse, Drew feinted to the right and then dashed back to the left in an effort to get around their ghostly nemesis and to the car. Edmund was fooled for just a second or two but seeing as how he and the horse were not of flesh and blood, it was not enough of a maneuver to slow him at all. Just as it looked to Kristen as if Drew was going to get
around his blockade, Edmund leapt from his saddle and snagged Drew from behind and began to drag him roughly through the muddy ground toward the mansion.

  He slapped and swung ineffectively at the hold that Edmund had on him as he slid away from Kristen and Rhiannon and the car and freedom. Much like Drew, Kristen, on instinct, dove from the car and sprinted toward them.

  “Drew, no!” she screamed at the top of her lungs as the rain continued to pelt her without mercy.

  The fright and terror of the laughter coming from Edmund would have normally paralyzed her, she thought, but for some reason, she just broke free from her mind’s rationale and ran to try and rescue Drew. Before she could reach them, though, Edmund had remounted his horse while keeping his firm grasp on Drew. The ghostly duo with the struggling Drew moved closer and closer to the mansion as Kristen slowly gained ground on them. Just before Edmund was able to re-enter the mansion with his new victim, Kristen flung herself horizontally and was able to snag one of Drew’s ankles, pulling him back and away from Edmund’s bony, clawed fist.

  Edmund spun at the sensation of possibly losing his new conquest and sent a pulse of invisible, yet powerful energy toward Kristen blowing her backwards. Her wet and muddy fingers slipped from her hold on Drew’s ankle as she fell to her rear and back with a resounding smack in the muddy yard. After shaking off the effects of having been shoved away by what had felt like a gigantic hand to her chest, and drawing herself up out of the sticky quagmire, Kristen looked on helplessly as Edmund regained his grip on Drew and dragged him away inside the mansion. Kristen felt angry and let the rage in her overwhelm the horror of the moment. She ignored her bruises and minor scrapes from being rebuffed and gathered herself again, getting first to her knees and then her feet as she was otherwise uninjured.