Haunting and Scares Collection

by Rosemary Cullen

  “I know this is happening for a reason. I have to be strong.” She said to herself.

  The handprints faded quickly, but she noticed that the fingerprints were smaller than the adult variety. She took a few steps forward and halted any forward progression with her hand to her mouth. There seemed to be a little boy crying.

  She reached out and he turned with such venom in his eyes that it made her hand go completely frozen. There was no way for her to move her fingers. The shadow cast outside the window was followed by a disembodied voice bellowing in anger.

  “Edward… Edward… Edward.” The voice of the ghostly apparition repeatedly called that one name.

  It was obviously searching for the boy who was practically hiding in plain sight. The footsteps outside the window abruptly turned into the hooves of a horse.

  “I’m coming for you. I lost you once and I won’t do it again,” Jennie’s voice didn’t sound like her own and the very words sounded foreign coming from her lips.

  “Mommy… Mommy… Mommy.” The young boy’s voice was getting louder with each cry for help.

  She tried to move forward, but her feet were frozen with the tendrils of a plant wrapped around her leg. Her body began to sink into the mire with the mud clinging to her dress. She frantically tried to step out of what was going to be her tomb encased in the ground of the house.

  The window above covered in a layer of dust exploded with fragments of glass raining down. Shielding her eyes, she turned her back and felt the peppering of the shards of glass digging into her flesh.

  The snorting of the horse caught her by the throat and the eyes peering through the glass was glowing red.

  She was caught in the mud. It was past her knees. Water began pouring in through the window splashing against her and making it hard to breathe.

  A young woman was standing powerless and watching intently from the sidelines

  Jennie tried to pull her legs free to no avail. Something didn’t want to let go. The fingers she had seen were back and this time the fingerprints were burning into her porcelain flesh. There was a sound of something hitting her face. She looked up and found her husband staring at her.

  Chapter Seven – Revelation

  “I don’t know how you convinced me to come here. These are not people that I would acquaint myself with. You know that I’ve never been comfortable in a social gathering.” He had no choice but to admit that something was going on.

  “We have to do something. Doing nothing has gotten us nowhere.” She responded in kind. “I won’t let this house or spirit or whatever defeat me.”

  Jennie was still feeling the lasting effect of Will slapping her across the face.

  “You were babbling about a woman, a child, and a horse. Your eyes literally turned white and I couldn’t reach you. If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn you had been possessed by the devil. I was waiting for your head to turn all the way around like in the Exorcist. I was tempted to call for a priest.” He was only kidding and it was a defense mechanism to ward off that creepy feeling in his bones.

  “I’ve made some inquiries at the bar. They say if you want to know anything that you should ask Jackson.” She stated with her eyes watching to see if anyone was going to join them.

  Jennie felt at a loss for words and could still feel the phantom presence of the hand on her ankle.

  “I said that I would go along with this, but now I’m having second thoughts.” The dodgy element was staring at them out of the corner of their eyes. They certainly didn’t fit in with the crowd of boisterous laughter and camaraderie.

  “I took some photographs of the paintings and drawings. I just had to mention the house and the bartender turned a deathly shade of gray.”

  “That should tell us that we shouldn’t be messing with something that causes that kind of reaction.” Will wanted to believe this was nothing more than sleep deprived paranoia, but deep down something was nagging at him.

  He couldn’t quite get it out of his head about the crest of the horse. It was practically daring him to find out more.

  The smell the bar was of stale beer and cigarette smoke. There were a couple of young men placing wages on a darting competition in full swing. The waitresses wore their uniforms with disgust underneath the pleasant smiles painted on their faces.

  The bartender was conversing with an elderly gentleman who had already had too much. His face was crimson and he was slurring his words with every mouthful of newly acquired beer.

  The old man with whiffs of gray hair in his beard suddenly awoke from his stupor. He seemed strangely interested in what the bartender was saying. The place in question had recently been acquired and the old man figured somebody was going to come asking.

  He stumbled through the crowd, gaunt, but wiry for his age. Those who saw him gave him a nod and a smile. They knew him, but they also understood his lack of interest in their lives. He was a staple of the community living off the grid away from the prying eyes of others.

  Bumping into people was par for the course considering his inebriated state. He apologized profusely, but he never spilled one drop of beer from the stein that was currently clasped in his hands. He managed, even three sheets to the wind, to make it undeterred over to the young couples table.

  He placed his hands on the top and felt it wobble from how the legs weren’t exactly the same size all the way around. The two drinks on top almost tumbled over, but the couple grabbed for them in time before they crashed to the floor.

  “I’ve heard that you’ve been asking about Abbott house. I could be persuaded to tell you a few tales about the family history. I daresay these people are not going to be very cooperative. We’ve all heard the rumors and the stories are quite embellished.” His eyes were glazed over, but he was able to articulate what he wanted to say.

  “Let me take a shot in the dark. You would be willing to tell us the story about the Abbott family, but only if you are suitably imbibed. I will buy you one drink and then we will see how it goes from there.” Will had heard about the old man who frequented this place. It was a subject of debate when he stopped for provisions on his way to surprise his lover.

  The old man, seeing an opening, decided to motion for the bartender to bring him one on their bill. He sat down next to the young woman happy to be looking at her with less than subtle intentions. He had been known to touch the waitresses inappropriately and be given the bum rush out the door by the owner of the hole in the wall.

  They waited patiently and not one single word came out of the old man’s mouth until he was downing the stein of beer. It quenched his thirst and loosened his lips. His claim to fame was stories that didn’t seem to have any legitimacy. They were tall tales.

  The place was dark. It had no real soul to speak of other than the old dance of whether or not somebody was going to get lucky.

  The old man tried to stand to leave but was detained by Will standing in his way. They looked at each other quizzically. No words were spoken. The old man shrugged his shoulders and sat back down despite his best effort to vacate the premises.

  “I heard stories from my grandfather and I will tell you what he told me. It kept me up at nights looking out the window and wondering if I would see that damn horse again. The Abbott family in its infinite wisdom decided to use the Kelpie as their family crest. Stories had been told about one of their ancestors bridling the horse for its own purposes.” He was good at bringing a story to life and he had these two eating out of the palm of his hand.

  “I thought there was something to the legend of the Kelpie. Those horses are said to be pulled towards where tragedy strikes in water. I thought that they were old fables told to children to make them eat their vegetables.” Will was slightly impressed by the old man’s abilities to keep his undivided attention.

  “You must forgive my husband and he doesn’t know what he speaks of. Can you tell us the story about what happened to the last line of descendants who lived in the house? I find mys
elf fascinated.” Jennie hung on every word and the story was unfolding like a movie playing in her head. “The horse and the Kelpie are one in the same. I knew it.”

  She spread out the photographs she had taken of the paintings and drawings. The old man had a mouthful of beer and almost choked on it from staring at the likeness of the family. One, in particular, caught his blood shot eyes.

  “I was only a child when I saw her and my parents didn’t believe me. She looked up from walking aimlessly with tears streaking down her cheeks. There was such sadness in her eyes that I felt compelled to share in her grief and pain.” Jackson Winters was an old man past his prime, but the image of the little girl carrying the lantern was emblazoned in his feeble mind.

  “I believe you. I saw her and I heard her as clear as day. Something happened and those who I’ve talked to are not willing to speak their name. I have wondered the reason why the place has remained vacant. It seems like a waste and witnessing it in disrepair broke my heart. I have the means and the know how to bring it back to how it was back in the day. I’m just not sure that it’s worth it.” Jennie needed to know more and was willing to spend their hard earned dollars on the liquor to bring voice to her suspicions.

  “The young boy, being the adventurous sort, went too close to the sun and was burned. You must have heard the story about Icarus and how his wings burned when he flew too close to the sun. The young boy fell into the lake and his father went in after him.” He was repeatedly tapping the photo of the little girl with his mouth wide open and licking his lips for whatever moisture he could find.

  He signaled the waitress, who was in no hurry to feel his fragile old hands squeezing her cheeks.

  “I’ve heard some of the stories, but mostly from old articles weathered and worn from newspapers,” Jennie said not even paying attention to her husband. “I remember the way the family looked happy and then I remember them the opposite. It reminds me of the stress I’m putting on our marriage.”

  “You have only heard half the story. They claimed the young boy survived, but that wasn’t so. The father did frantically try to save him, but it cost him his life. They both drowned while the mother and daughter stared in shock from the banks. They were grief stricken, but that was only the start of their troubles.

  Rumor had it that Henry had squirreled away a fortune in treasure. Amelia and Jemima were never able to find it and fell into squalor. Jemima made her money using her drawings as currency. She was quite gifted, but never was given her recognition.” Jackson felt like he was taking advantage, but he enjoyed the attention, not including the abundance of liquor.

  “I have to ask the reason why they would cover up the child’s death.” Will couldn’t stand to be silent any longer and this was his way of interjecting his own thoughts into the conversation.

  Moving closer, Jackson whispered a part of the story that made both Will and Jennie turn toward each other in horror.

  “The story doesn’t end there. Amelia went insane and sent Jemima to fend for herself in an orphanage. She was overheard saying that her son dragged his father to his demise by floundering in a mad panic. Nobody paid her any mind and the story changed to where the son survived.” Jackson could feel their attention waning and he had been there more times than he could count.

  “I would say that there is unfinished business in that house and in the lake. I’ve heard of the Kelpie and I know how it is conceivable to bridle his passion. It practically becomes a slave until it breaks free and wreaks vengeance on anyone who crosses him. It seems implausible. It seems like an unsubstantiated legend.” Jennie challenged to see if her claims could be refuted.

  Jennie had this feeling that her husband was going to need more than just conjecture. Stories were meant to raise questions. She was desperate to find the answers.

  “Amelia was very religious and believed God had forsaken her and her child. She died never finding closure. To be reunited with her lost love and child would give her peace of mind. Insanity runs in the family. They dragged the lake in later years to find absolutely nothing.”

  “I’m sure that wasn’t the last anyone heard about the treasure. I would imagine it would be a matter of debate over a few libations,” She said.

  “A few drinks can make the sanest person think of doing something monumentally stupid.” She didn’t say it out loud, but she knew she was right.

  “There has been no shortage of the adventurous spirit. Those willing to go looking for the supposed treasure come back empty handed. This is not widely known publicly, but two of those explorers were never seen again,” He whispered before standing and humming a tune underneath his breath. He left them to ponder what he had to say.

  Jennie didn’t hear the laughter and what was drumming in her ears were the sound of hooves. It was getting louder by the second. It became a roar inside her head. She stood screaming. Everybody seemed like they were laughing at her expense and she was literally shaking.

  “Jennie, get a hold of yourself and you’re making a scene. I believe that we should make a discreet exit.” Will watched as she looked around confused and something had obviously given her something to think about.

  “We need the blessing of a priest,” She blurted out without thinking. “I don’t want to do this. I want to have a normal life with my husband.”

  She was escorted outside and stumbled backward at seeing a jet black horse. It was only a brief break in reality.

  Chapter Eight – Think of Me

  Will was beside himself. She was acting batty. She was constantly mumbling underneath her breath and spending a concerning amount of time in the room where she had found the paintings and drawings.

  “Don’t you hear them? They are both here waiting to be reunited. I don’t know how you can’t hear them. They are so loud. It’s hard for me to get to sleep at night.” She stated with her eyes darting around the room with no visible expression on her face. “I know I’m losing it…but I can’t seem to stop the slow decline into the black abyss.”

  “It has been two days and there’s no improvement. I’ve had the lake dragged at considerable expense and the bodies are just not there. If they are, they are never going to be seen from again. It seems to be a bottomless pit of mud.” He was not directing his comments to an unresponsive Jennie.

  “I will do what I can. I’m not accustomed to this kind of blessing. I’ve done my due diligence. There is precedent for houses that contain evil spirits and those spirits that can’t rest,” Father Michaels remarked as he watched the woman slowly recede into madness.

  “I will do whatever I can to save her from herself. I really don’t know what to believe. I have heard some interesting things in the last couple of days. There are cold spots in different rooms which I try to avoid. I hope you understand that I’m at my wit’s end. I’ve exhausted every measure. You have to help her to find her way out of the dark,” He pled his case to the priest by grabbing onto his robe.

  Will hadn’t been able to sleep with Jennie roaming the halls in the middle of the night. He was forever getting up to bring her back to bed.

  “This is highly unorthodox. These practices have not been used in quite some time. My research has made it possible for me to get everything that is needed. I would suggest you get some rest and being here is not healthy for either one of you. I can’t predict what is going to happen when I begin to mess with forces beyond our understanding.” Father Michaels concluded with a wave of his hand dismissively.

  Will was about to say something. He decided against it. He was grateful for the reprieve and walked away shaking his head in disbelief. It seemed like a bad dream which he wanted to wake up from in the worst way possible.

  “Leave me alone…leave the both of us alone,” Jennie bellowed with her eyes wide open without even blinking. “I’m not even sure why I am trying to push him away from me. I should be holding onto him harder than ever.”

  “I’m leaving you in capable hands. I hope that you’ll come back to me w
ithout being shattered into a million pieces. I always thought the love of a good man would be enough. I guess I couldn’t account for something like this. This is something old enough to fester into a malevolent being. I won’t let them take you without a fight,” Will nodded solemnly to the priest with his head bowed as if defeated.

  “Will… I need you…to get out of my life forever.” Jenny declared with her finger pointed accusingly. “It hurts me to see the look of pain in his eyes.”

  Will threw up his hands in surrender. He walked out of the house cursing the Abbott name. There was a quaint bed and breakfast in town which he would use to get much-needed rest for what was ahead.

  “Father…where were you when we needed you the most? God is nothing but an illusion. It’s a sick joke on those clinging for any kind of hope. You’re nothing. This is no place for you cleric.” Jennie could hear her voice, but it was as if she was a spectator. She felt no joy from getting this kind of enjoyment from the suffering of others.

  “I’m not going anywhere. We’re both going to take a walk down to the lake and face the evil residing there,” Father Michaels warned before grabbing her wrist and pulling her from the room.

  Jennie grabbed onto the threshold with her fingernails scratching into the plaster. He had a considerable weight advantage. His determination was daunting. She felt imbued and then her inner strength tripled in force and ferocity.

  She was kicking and clawing at his robe. Her scream was deafening. No one without the hand of God touching his shoulder would have been able to withstand what blasphemy was spewing from her lips. The obscenities would make a grown sailor blush after years of being at sea.

  There was this stillness in the air and the paintings began to bleed. The different colors of paint were melting from their frame and the heat was enough to curl the collar on the good Father.