The Haunted Inn (Haunted House Ghost Story): The Hauntings of Kingston

by Michelle Dorey

  Chapter 19

  Tim

  Sitting next to the fire, Tim glanced at his watch— twelve twenty. Almost time for the action inside the house to start, if the video was any indication. In the recordings he’d viewed, it had happened at twelve twenty-four each night.

  There were only the five of them still left, finishing their beer, making noises like they were ready to call it a night. Even though Carly had tried to get Steve, Sylvia and Amy to stay, they’d begged off for another time.

  Tony was half lit, stumbling back from the edge of the property after taking a leak, while Liz had stopped drinking a few hours ago. She didn’t want to miss a minute of what might take place in the house.

  “I’ll get the sleeping bags and pillows from the car.” Liz stood up and stretched, stifling a yawn before she disappeared into the blackness of the night.

  Brad got up and turned to Tony. “If you two want to take my bed, I’m fine with that. There’s no air mattress and why should two people suffer on the hard floor?”

  “Are you sure? I’m fine sleeping in the car. I don’t know how she talked me into this.” Tony sighed and suppressed a loud belch.

  “No problem. I’ll take the front bedroom.” Brad stepped close to Tony and clapped him on the back, walking close to him all the way into the house. From the look he shot over his shoulder at Tim, it was clear he was there in case Tony needed a hand navigating.

  Tim looked up at the second floor. It was still dark, no light-show yet. He sighed, disappointment vying with...Oh my God. He shook his head. Relief? Really? What the hell was wrong with him? He should be hoping for some action in the house! It was supposed to be haunted.

  When Carly stood up, he pushed his weary body up off the ground to join her. The fire had turned to embers, with little risk of spreading beyond the stones circling it. She slipped her hand into his and they walked across the veranda. Liz, with her arms circling sleeping bags and pillows met them at the door.

  Brad stepped close to her and took the sleeping stuff from her arms. “You and Tony are taking my bed. I’ll bunk down with this stuff, but I might actually take the sofa, rather than the front bedroom.”

  Carly sprinted up the staircase, calling over her shoulder. “I’ll get the lights up here. C’mon Liz.”

  Tim watched Tony follow them and he turned to Brad. “That’s pretty nice of you, Bro. You sure you’ll be all right down here by yourself?” He glanced into the dark parlour and back to Brad. Everything was quiet down there...too quiet. And the room was right next to the library and that damned rocking chair.

  Brad rolled his eyes and he stepped into the dim room, flipping the light switch on as he went. “I’ll be fine. I’m so tired, I can sleep through anything. I’m half in the bag too from drinking all night long. See you in the morning.”

  Tim locked the door and flipped off the outside light before turning and following the others up the stairs. He looked down the dark hallways and his eyes narrowed for a moment. Still nothing. It had to be almost one o’clock in the morning. Maybe all the life in the building had scared old Baxter away.

  He headed for last set of stairs just as the door to the room where Liz and Tony were staying closed with a snick. Well that was Tony and Liz settled. He opened the door to his own bedroom, in time to see Carly slip on an over-sized T shirt. She tugged the comforter back and settled into the queen sized bed, patting the spot next to her and smiling up at him. All thoughts of haunting and ghosts evaporated with the welcome sight of her— waiting and wanton.

  With a quick tug, his own shirt was off. His fingers fumbled with the snap on his shorts.

  BANG!

  He jumped at the thundering boom from the floor below him. His eyes locked with hers, the breath caught in his hammering chest. It was happening! Another loud bang and then another shook the floor under his feet.

  He snapped the pants shut again and raced to the door. When he opened it, the lights downstairs in the hallway were flashing on and off like strobes at a concert. He barely dared to breathe as he watched the staccato light show, his mind numb with shock.

  There was a pattern to the flashes. Three short, three long times on and then three short light flashes. SOS?

  Liz peeked out the crack of the door to Brad’s room. “Is it happening?” Her eyes were wide and the fingers holding the door were pressed flat.

  Just as he was about to tell her to go back inside, a deafening boom shook the house. He froze. The door slammed shut and Liz disappeared inside.

  But Carly stepped out to join him. “Holy shit! This is crazy!” Her eyes glittered above a gaping mouth.

  “Stay here. I’m going down to take a look.” He gripped her arm and squeezed it to make sure she got the point.

  “No way! I’m coming with you.” She clutched his hand and her jaw set tight. Her whole body looked like a coiled spring.

  The lights downstairs turned off, leaving a chasm of darkness that he slowly stepped down to enter.

  “What the hell’s happening?” Brad’s voice across from him sounded totally shit scared.

  Tim took a long quivery breath stepping into the hallway, his hand scrabbling over the wall to find the light switch. When light flooded the area, his ragged breath slowly escaped. He looked over at Brad, who was white as a ghost. “Get the flashlight. I’m going to check all the rooms but I don’t trust these lights to stay on.”

  Carly squeezed his hand and huddled close to him. “This is amazing!” At the sound of footsteps behind, she turned and beckoned Liz to join them.

  All the while, Brad’s feet slapped the wooden stairs, racing down to get the flashlight in the kitchen. Liz took her position on Tim’s other side, her fingers digging into his bare arm.

  “Do you think we’ll see anything? A ghost I mean?” Her eyes were big as marbles, staring at him.

  Below them, Brad’s feet pounded on the floor, racing from the kitchen.

  Tim took a deep breath. This was what he’d signed up for and—

  “Holy shit!” Brad’s yell broke the silence.

  “What?” Tim stepped over to the top stair and looked down, his two charges clinging to his arms.

  Brad strode back to the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time as he climbed. “That damn rocking chair! It moved! It’s in front of the sofa now, going like crazy!” He came to a halt on the top stair, his eyes wide staring at the three of them. “It wasn’t there when I came up here! I hate that stupid chair!”

  Tim felt his skin pucker in a shiver of goose bumps. This was seriously weird. “Sleep up here tonight. You can take the floor in my room or your own.”

  From the doorway behind them, Tony’s voice boomed. “He can have his fucking bed back! I’m fucking out of here. You stupid fucks, fucking around with this fucking shit! C’mon Liz! We’re fucking leaving!” Tony’s feet thudded quickly on the stairs.

  Liz spun around and took a step closer to him. “No! Wait Tony! We’re going to check out the bedrooms. We can’t—”

  “Oh yes we can! We’re fucking outta here. Or at least I am, with or without you!” Tony pushed his way by Brad and raced down the stairs.

  Liz’s forehead wrinkled and her teeth pressed into her lower lip. “Shit!” She eased by Brad, running down the stairs after Tony.

  “Well, that solves the bed situation.” The bang of the front door closing punctuated Tim’s comment. “He’ll probably never speak to us again.”

  Tim took the flashlight from Brad and walked over to the bathroom, easing the door open and creeping inside. He could feel Carly right behind him, her breath on the back of his neck.

  Everything looked normal enough. Nothing in there but what should be there. He turned and with a flip of his hand, signalled for the others to step back. There was probably nothing up there, just empty rooms, but checking everything was the sensible thing to do, just in case. Although why he had to take the lead and not Brad didn’t seem fair.

  He crept down the hall to the next room, the
pink rose one. When he stepped inside, it was like his dream the night before. The maple tree branch scraped the glass, the broad leaves spread out like a handprint. The beer in his gut threatened to spew and he took a deep breath.

  It wasn’t until they’d entered the bedroom at the front, the one with the huge stain on the floor that he saw something that made his blood turn to ice. Beside him, Carly gasped and her hand shot up to cover her mouth.

  In the middle of the dark patch of wood, lay what was left of a mouse. It was a headless carcass, the skin peeled back from the upper part of its torso. It lay on its side in a pool of blood.

  Tim’s stomach tightened and the beer rose as bile in the back of his throat. This mouse had been left as a warning and he knew who had left it.

  “Eew!” Carly turned and fled past Brad, hurrying out of the room.

  Brad turned to watch her go, his hand still on the door, holding it open. “Oh shit.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

  “What?” Tim stepped closer, his eyes following to where Brad peered. High on the back of the door, directly in the middle was a rust coloured drawing, a happy face symbol painted with blood, heavy drips rolling down from the corners of the smile.

  Brad turned to Tim and he whispered, “Maybe Sophie’s right.”

  Chapter 20

  Brad

  Day 6

  Brad was the first one up the next morning. With the sunshine pouring like honey through the windows, the night before seemed like only a dream. His feet brushed the smooth wooden floor in the hallway leading to the front bedroom. He opened the door slowly and peeked inside.

  Eeew! A cluster of oily, fat flies covered the carcass, their movement making it seem like the body was alive and rippling.

  At the sound of footsteps on the floor above, he left the room and hurried to the bathroom. He grabbed a piece of paper towel and scampered back to remove the disgusting carcass. Carly would be up soon and there was no way he wanted her to see that again.

  As he was about to round the newel post and go down the stairs, Tim’s voice stopped him. “So it really did happen, didn’t it? You got the mouse?”

  He grimaced and held the paper towel out. “Yeah. I’ll throw it in the field.” He started down the stairs and stopped. “What do you suppose happened to its head?”

  Tim snorted. “As long as it’s not in my cereal, who cares?”

  “Isn’t that a pleasant thought...” Brad continued down the stairs. He walked by the entrance of the parlour and purposely kept his eyes averted. One thing at a time. If the chair was still there, he’d deal with that later. He crossed the driveway and went about fifty feet across the field, before throwing the mouse to the wind. Some hawk would probably have a nice breakfast.

  He was bone tired, trudging back to the house. Everything had quieted down after they’d found the mouse, but sleep had been a long time coming. Having ghosts bang around and play with the lights was one thing but that mouse...There was something threatening about what had happened to it and then that happy face drawing cinched it.

  When he went inside, he saw Tim manhandle the rocking chair back into the library. Was this the way all of their nights were going to be? Being kept awake almost all night, rearranging furniture in the morning and getting rid of small, animal sacrifices? Was this worth it? If it was, he’d better make an afternoon nap part of his daily schedule.

  He went into the powder room and turned on the tap to wash his hands. At first the water sputtered and then a stream of rusty water spewed forth. Rusty to the point of looking like dried blood. He sighed and shook his head, hands gripping the pedestal sink. After a minute or so, the water cleared and he exhaled slowly. When he put his hands under the water, he drew back with a start. Holy cow! It was scalding!

  He adjusted the lever and waited a moment or two. Still pretty warm but bearable. He’d have to watch that, especially if he was in the shower. After finding that mouse, maybe the ghost was playing with the water temperature and could seriously hurt them. He would go down into the cellar and turn the hot water temperature down. He’d have to do that, since Tim refused to enter the ‘bowels of the building’.

  When he left the bathroom, he went into the kitchen. Carly was pouring coffee while Tim cracked eggs into a frying pan. The normalcy of the situation struck him between the eyes. Looking at this scene of domestic bliss, you’d never know that last night had happened.

  Tim looked over at him and said, “I’m going to town and get the stuff for the chute. I’m picturing something like a slide you’d see in a kids’ playground, big enough for Carly to slide through, hidden behind the stairwell and ending up in the basement.”

  Brad’s head dropped forward and he blinked a few times. He could hardly believe his ears. All the banging and the light show weren’t enough for Tim? He wanted to add to the ambiance with a ghostly appearance from Carly, who’d disappear suddenly, down a chute? “Tim? Do you think that’s necessary? After last night?”

  Tim dished the eggs onto a plate and handed it to him. “Absolutely. Who knows how long Baxter will stay? Maybe he maxed out his ghosties with the mouse last night. We’ve got to make sure our guests get some bang for their buck.” He popped bread into the toaster and continued. “It was something else though, wasn’t it? I mean aside from the mutilated mouse.”

  “Eew!” Carly’s nose crinkled and she handed Tim a cup of coffee. Her wide blue eyes met his and she smiled. “Thanks for getting rid of it. I’ve always hated mice but what happened to that little guy was awful. Poor thing.”

  She took the milk from the fridge and reached for the sugar bowl, setting both next to his plate. “You’d never know I grew up on a farm, the youngest of three. We used to play in the hay and make forts there. There was always mice, even with three barn cats.”

  “Where was that, Carly?” Brad took a bite of egg and smiled at her.

  “Elora. It’s a small town near Niagara Falls. When my older brother and sister left the farm, our parents sold it.” She sighed and dark hair cupped her cheeks when she looked down at the counter for a moment. “They’re dead now and I haven’t seen my brother and sister in years. They’re corporate types and look at me...a high school drop-out. I always wanted to travel more than anything else.”

  Brad’s stomach fell looking over at her. Sure, he didn’t see much of his family but at least no one was dead.

  Carly was a bit of a gypsy all right, flighty, but with guts. She’d have to be, to strike out on her own like that. “You’re following your dream. Nothing wrong with that.”

  She smiled and turned to Tim. “I have to work tonight. They texted me that one of the full time girls called in sick. I’ll be leaving the same time as you. I want to go home and have a nap, after last night.”

  He nodded and continued cooking breakfast. “How about you, Brad? What are you planning today?”

  It was absolutely glorious outside, a typical, hot summer day. It would be wonderful to lay on the dock and grab forty winks in the sun. But that wouldn’t help them get the place ready for guests.

  He managed a smile. “I thought I’d tackle the dining room. It’d be nice to get it painted, so we can get the table and finish that room. I should be done by the time you get back. I can help you with the chute then. “

  Tim glanced over at him and puffed a sigh. “I texted Tony earlier. He hasn’t replied yet. Maybe I’ll call him when I get back.”

  Brad finished the eggs, As he walked the plate to the sink to rinse it, he glanced at Tim. “Leave Tony to me. I’m better than you at kissing ass. I’ll call him in an hour or so.”

  ***

  He was alone in the house, the paint, brushes and rollers set on canvas, drop cloths. It was deadly quiet and he needed some music or the radio to break the stillness. But that could wait.

  He fished his cell phone from his shirt pocket and clicked the buttons to connect with Tony. He might as well get it over with before he got started with the painting.

  “H
ello?” Tony sounded like he had just woke up, even though it was almost eleven.

  “Hey Tony. How’re you doing?” He wandered over to the window and looked out at the expanse of overgrown lawn.

  “Fine, no thanks to you and your fucking house.” His words were clipped.

  “Yeah...sorry about that. We should have let you go home like you’d planned. Things quieted down after you left but—”

  “But what? You guys are okay, aren’t you?” Anger was replaced with concern in Tony’s voice.

  Brad felt his chest lighten. Tony would come around. “Yeah, yeah. We’re fine. The mouse we found didn’t do so well—”

  “What happened?”

  He sighed and the eggs scrambled some more in his stomach. “There was a mutilated mouse on the floor in one of the bedrooms. And a happy face message painted with its blood.”

  “Fuck off! You’re not serious?”

  He hesitated for a moment before answering, “Yeah, I am.”

  “Brad, that’s a threat. You know that, right? You’re not dealing with a playful spirit there.”

  He could picture the worry in Tony’s eyes. Kind of like the look Sophie had given him. “Yeah, that’s what Sophie said too.”

  “She said that? Oh my God. Look I don’t know her all that well but I think she’s right. What exactly did she say?”

  Brad turned and propped his butt on the window ledge, staring across the room. “Well, when she visited, she wouldn’t come inside the house. She said the house is possessed, evil even.”

  “Holy shit!”

  “Holy, all right. She gave us crucifixes on a chain and insisted we wear them.” He fingered the chain around his neck, pulling out the cross. For some reason, having it in his hand gave him a sense of security.

  “Brad, are you wearing it?”

  “Maybe...”