Haunted House Tales

by Riley Amitrani

  “Mind if I join you?” she asked with a weak voice and uneven gait.

  “Feeling better?” Clara asked.

  “Yeah, thanks. Temp seems down, and my gut is back to normal.”

  Liz smiled, relieved at her friend’s recovery as she got her some broth, and the four of them sat and chatted about their lives outside the film itself. Soon, they all began to feel fatigued, and headed for bed as the clouds outside lifted, revealing a crescent moon high in the sky.

  “I think I am going to take a quick bath,” Emily said as Liz walked her to her room.

  “Is there enough hot water in that rig Sam set up?”

  “I’ll manage I am sure…”

  With that, Liz went to her own room, and Emily wandered off to the bath to indulge in what Sam had engineered for them in the bathroom at the end of the corridor. Emily slid out of her grimy clothes that she had been sleeping in while she had been ill and slipped into the warm water of the tub, sighing with contentment as the water warmed her skin. She closed her eyes as the single candle danced playfully off the walls and ceiling of the bathroom. However, just as she began to relax completely, Emily felt this strong touch on her shoulders that shoved her under the water and held her down as she flailed and thrashed about trying to get free of the grip. When she was sure she could no longer hold her breath another second, Emily twisted awkwardly and burst from the water as whoever it was that had pushed her under simply released their hold on her.

  Emily gasped for air and coughed as water sputtered from her mouth and lungs. Looking around the room wildly, she saw no one else in the room with her. She only saw her own reflection in the hand mirror she had brought along and the candle right where she had left it. Her panic and fear at a fever pitch, Emily cried out for help as she threw herself over the rim of the tub and onto the cold floor. She was still there coughing and struggling to her feet when Sam burst in to get her to her feet and get her calmed down. Liz and Clara came running as well just seconds behind Sam once they heard Emily’s screams.

  As soon as she could regain her voice, Emily told her story. Sam looked at Liz with a real sense of dread and anxiety. But still, Liz was not convinced of some otherworldly presence in the mansion.

  “What’s your explanation, then, Liz?” Sam asked as he was now about as convinced of his concerns of the mansion as he had been at dinner.

  “None. But I simply cannot believe in what you’re are suggesting based on something Clara might have seen and that diary.”

  “Clara? Diary?” Emily asked as she looked up at Liz.

  Liz sagged back in her heels as she forgot that Emily had not yet been with them when all that had been revealed. She was reluctant, but let Sam go ahead and fill in the missing pieces for her. Emily listened carefully, and it was obvious that by the time Sam finished the story that she was just as freaked out as he had been earlier.

  “It’s just a series of coincidences, Emily…” Liz offered.

  “Maybe to you, Liz. But you were not the one who just about drowned here.”

  Liz flashed back briefly to her nightmare, but pushed it out of her mind. After all, it had just been a dream.

  “I cannot speak for Emily or Liz, but this is enough for me,” Sam said with conviction. “Sue me if you need to for breach of contract, but my life means more to me than money. At first light I am out of here.”

  “Emily?” Liz asked.

  Emily hated to abandon her good friend, especially as they were so close to finishing up the film, but she shrugged and looked to Sam.

  “Sorry, Liz. I just cannot do it either.”

  Without another word to either of them, Liz looked at Clara.

  “You jumping ship as well?”

  “Nope. Count me in. I’m here for the duration.”

  Liz nodded her thanks and turned on her heels and marched off.

  The Final Act

  Lake District

  The Carroway Mansion, Threlkeld

  Cumbria, England

  November 2017

  True to their word, both Sam and Emily consolidated as much of the gear that Liz would not need to finish up her film into the one van and headed back to London at daybreak. Liz was not pleased, but assured them she and Clara could finish up on their own and then get back to London in the other van. As soon as Sam and Emily drove out of sight, Liz joined up with Clara behind the mansion so they could get the shots that the weather had forced them to postpone for over two days.

  With the massive, towering backdrop of the Carroway for atmosphere, Liz and Clara set up the cameras and recording equipment near the edge of the wide spot in the River Glenderamackin for the final scene. However, as the afternoon began to come upon them, and the long shadows of the forest across the river bank crossed onto the open field between the river and the mansion, both Liz and Clara froze. Liz was sure it had been the wind and a trick of the various nooks and crannies where it was blowing through the trees and past the walls of the Carroway, but as she listened again, she was not so sure.

  “Do you hear that?” she asked.

  Clara stood still, and just then, the sound came up again. She nodded slowly and looked around.

  “You mean that baby crying?”

  Liz nodded, shivering at her recollection of what Emily said she had heard.

  They left everything they were collecting at the moment, and searched everywhere. But they could not find any sign of a baby either near the mansion nor toward the river. They thought maybe that it could have come from the woods, but the distance seemed too great based on how loud the cries had been even with the wind. Liz, for the first time, began to wonder if what Emily had heard had not been a hallucination after all, as both she and Clara had heard it this time. Clara shielded her eyes against the setting sun and gasped as she called Liz to her frantically.

  “Look down there…in the center of the river, Liz. Is it me or is that a body?”

  Liz looked in the direction Clara was indicating, and her pulse quickened as she saw it. They moved toward the near bank of the river as the lazy, sluggish current moved the floating body to where they were standing.

  “Oh my God, Liz…is that…”

  Liz was praying what Clara had just pointed out was wrong, but as she looked closer and the corpse floated to them, face up, it was indeed Dean Garrity. Clara screamed and tried to run from the bank of the river, but her feet slipped in the mud, and when Liz went to help her, she slipped as well dragging both of them down the pitch of the shore and into the water. They clawed and dug their way up out of the water as Dean’s bloated and already partially eaten corpse seemed to track their every move. Both women were hysterical, crying and screaming until they managed to drag themselves up the muddy incline and onto the dry grass above. In their panic to get away, they got separated as the sun set, and Liz ran for the mansion calling to Clara with all her might.

  However, before she could go more than about twenty or thirty yards, Liz fell to her knees as this ethereal and gauzy-looking image halted her progress. She looked up and there was a young woman holding a baby wrapped in loose clothing that was snapping wildly in the brisk wind. Liz trembled where she had fallen, immediately wishing she had taken Sam more seriously. The woman did not seem angry nor threatening in any manner, but without a doubt, it was the same woman whose image was in that painting that Sam had partially restored. It was the one that was hanging in the hallway of the Carroway. Her expression was much like that in the painting and Liz knew at once that all of what had happened here…what Emily had heard, what Clara had seen, the diary, and now this ghostly presence…they were all interconnected.

  And then there was her nightmare. She did not know if that had been meant to be some sort of omen to her or not, but in retrospect, it seemed likely. The woman simply pointed away from the mansion with her free hand as she looked into Liz’s eyes and then just vanished like a cloud of water vapor on a cold day in the winter. Liz followed the line of sight indicated by the woman’s finger b
efore losing consciousness and falling prone where she was in the field. She awoke later, though for how long she did not know, but when she did, Clara was at her side patting her hand and doing all she could to bring her around.

  “You OK, Liz?”

  “I guess. Did you see that?”

  “You mean Dean?”

  “No…it was…never mind. I think I have finally had enough of this place. How about you?”

  Clara nodded as she helped Liz sit up and then to her feet.

  “Are you thinking that maybe Sam was onto something here?” she asked as she supported Liz as they moved slowly toward the Carroway.

  “It would seem so,” Clara replied.

  ……….

  Packing up the gear as quickly as they could, Liz and Clara then jumped into the remaining van and sped back into Penrith, not even bothering to slow down at Threlkeld. Liz went inside to the inn where she had stayed previously to report to the authorities about having found Dean’s body in the river. They grabbed a table at the pub while they waited. And one as close to the fireplace as possible, trying to warm themselves even though they knew their chill had more to do with what had just happened back at the Carroway than with the November air. The police arrived and took their statements assuring them they did not need to go back to the site. They could see how distraught and upset the two women were, and after hearing their full account saw no reason to put them through any more trauma.

  The pub owner, who Liz had not met previously came by their table once the police had departed to see if they needed anything to eat. Both Liz and Clara shook their heads no as they cradled their drinks in their hands.

  “If it’s not an imposition, ladies, might I ask a question?”

  Liz nodded.

  “You were the ones over to the Carroway in Threlkeld? Making that film?”

  “We were,” Clara replied as Liz just stared into the fire.

  “Saw a woman with a baby wandering the grounds, did you?”

  Liz felt her blood run cold and nearly dropped her glass. She looked up at the man.

  “Any ideas about going back out there?”

  “None.” Liz aid bluntly.

  “That’s good,” he replied as he wiped the table clean. “My best advice is to never, ever go back there. There are things out there. Things you would be well advised to stay clear of if you take my meaning.”

  “Why is it no one will talk about it, even if they know about it?” Liz asked.

  The man just smiled.

  “It is our way, Miss. Just take my advice. Go back to America. Forget about the Carroway if you can. It is better that way. OK?”

  Liz nodded and the man left them alone.

  “What do you think, Clara?”

  “Liz…I’ve lived in the UK all my life. I’ve heard about places like the Carroway ever since I was a little girl. But this is the first time I’ve gotten a small taste of one of them on such a personal level. His advice seems well-intentioned to me. I’d say listen to him.”

  Epilogue: Back Home

  Liz’s Studio

  Los Angeles, California

  March 2018

  Once Liz returned to California, she tried several times to take all that she had done in Threlkeld and at the Carroway and develop it into the film she was assuming would launch her career as a director and independent film maker. But every time she just touched any of the material she had shot, or looked over the script to coordinate it with her footage, all she could see was the bloated and macerated corpse of Dean Garrity bumping up against her as she and Clara tried to scramble away. And then there was that ghostly figure holding the baby who never spoke, but made it clear that she was not wanted anywhere near the Carroway Mansion. Not to mention her nightmare in the lake, though fortunately, that had not reoccurred since that one instance while she was staying at the mansion.

  She had mended the fences with both Sam and Emily as all that had happened since they had taken off based on their fear of staying any longer on site seemed to pale in comparison. She gave them the highlights of what she and Clara had experienced their last day there, including finding Dean and the ghostly mother. She was still not sure she was buying into all of this as heavily as Sam was, but for sure her mind was now way more open than previously. Both Sam and Emily still wanted to work with her, but Liz put them off regarding the final processing and editing and production of the film from Threlkeld. She could tell they were anxious to see a final cut, but so far she had just not been able to do it.

  Then one cold day in March, Liz knew she could procrastinate no longer. Not only was it not in her nature, but her investors were being very insistent at seeing something for their money. But when Liz looked over her shot film, in the background of every shot, whether inside or out, there was the ever-present image of the ghost who had let Liz know she was not wanted. The image was clearer in some footage than in others, but no matter how vague or shadowy or grainy the image, Liz knew it was her all the same. As much as she would have loved to have had this film as her first finished product, she could not ignore the sick feeling in her chest and gut that to make the film available for public viewing would be to invite her “ghost friend” closer.

  After much thought, many sleepless nights, and the dread that this might ruin her reputation for good, Liz simply erased the footage and let her investors know that there had either been some technical glitch on site or that the film had gotten exposed to some sort of radiation during her trip home. With all the high theater surrounding the TSA and “security” in airports anymore, it was a feasible excuse. Perhaps weak, but still believable. To satisfy the financial commitment her backers had made, Liz offered her story via the written word. That would be me.

  I had never dealt with any of these corporate types before, but after a lot of haggling and back and forth, I gave them a “novelized” version of what Liz had been trying to put on film. They were a bit disappointed, I think, but in the end, I guess they were happy to get something for their money. Liz and I worked out a deal as well, and while she did not get her first film out of it, she seemed relieved that she did not have to take a loan or a second mortgage on her house to pay off her debts. Anyway…that is the tale of Carroway Mansion. Not a bad little story, if I do say so myself, but I leave the final verdict to each reader. And if you are perhaps considering a jaunt to Threlkeld to have a look for yourself? I never try and tell anyone what to do, but in this case, I would only suggest you take the advice of the pub owner in Penrith. Maybe you won’t see anything…or won’t hear the crying of a baby in distress as you roam the grounds…but then again, what if you do?

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  Copyright Notice

  Haunted House Tales (28 Book Box Set)

  By

  Riley Amitrani

  http://www.rileyamitrani.com

  http://www.beyondoriginal.com

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Beyond Original LLC and Riley Ami
trani

  Copyright © 2019 Beyond Original LLC, Riley Amitrani. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.

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