Dark Ends: A Horror Collection

by Sara Bourgeois

  “What about up there?” Zach asked and pointed to the padlocked attic door.

  “Oh right. I guess everyone is going to want to go in the attic. I’ll get the key.” As Sammy walked away, she began to wonder if she should have had the guests sign a waiver.

  When dinnertime came around, Samantha offered to order pizza. She figured people might want to go out, but it seemed like a good idea to offer. It turned out that nobody wanted to leave, and they all enthusiastically accepted her offer.

  Sammy ordered three pizzas and two sides of breadsticks, and hoped it would be enough. She also didn’t want a bunch of extra food in the refrigerator because she had the thing jam-packed with food for cooking breakfast. She’d never had so much bacon in her house before.

  “There wasn’t any room in the refrigerator for my soda,” Zach said as they all gathered around the dining room table for dinner.

  “You should be good, buddy,” Elliot said. “I noticed there wasn’t much ice in the dispenser when I got here, so I found a tray and filled it.”

  “Thank you for doing that,” Sammy said. “I’m going to get paper plates and drinks from the kitchen.”

  “I’ll help,” said Rachel cheerfully.

  “You don’t have to do that, but thank you,” Sam said.

  “It’s good to be around another female. You have no idea what it’s like being on the road all of the time with these guys.” Rachel said.

  While they were in the kitchen, Sammy checked the ice maker in the refrigerator. It was completely empty. “That’s strange,” Sammy said.

  “What’s that?” Rachel responded as she stood on her tippy toes to get the paper plates off the top shelf of the pantry.

  “The ice maker has never quit working before.”

  “Yeah. That does suck. It seems like they are always the first thing to go. You might need to call a repairman.”

  That thought stung. In the past, she could have just asked John to fix it. It was as if the refrigerator had chosen the worst time to break, and it twisted the knife about her ex-fiancé.

  “You okay?” Rachel asked, and Sammy realized she was just standing there in front of the fridge, staring at it. Well, she wasn’t just gazing at it. She was also fighting the urge to kick the blasted machine.

  “Yeah. I’m not used to calling repairmen for things. My fiancé used to fix everything,” Sammy said and cleared her throat. “Sorry. Ex-fiancé.”

  “Oh no. What happened?” Rachel’s concern was genuine.

  The two women stood in the kitchen and Sammy told Rachel the story of John’s unceremonious departure a few days back. Sammy told an abbreviated version of the story because she knew the rest of her guests were waiting to eat.

  “There’s far more to it than that,” Rachel said.

  “What do you mean?” Sammy asked with an unconvincing innocence.

  “There is more to the story. Things happened here. John leaving further confirms that the stories about this place aren’t just fantasy.”

  “Are you guys coming back in here or what?” Lance called from the other room. “Jim has started on the pizza, even without plates or napkins.

  “Right. The napkins,” Sammy said. She was relieved to be out of the spotlight. “You go on ahead with the plates. I’m just going to grab the napkins and I’ll be right there.”

  “Okay, but don’t think our little talk is over, Samantha Hainsley,” Rachel said.

  “I know, but please don’t bring up the stuff about John in front of the others. I swear I’ll tell you about my history with the house.”

  When Sammy got back out to the dining room, everyone was eating and chatting. She had to decide how much to tell the others about the house’s true history.

  The old place was usually creaky and was good for some spooky noises even when there wasn’t any real paranormal activity going on, but for some reason, it had chosen her first night as a haunted bed-and-breakfast to go completely silent.

  It was frustrating, to say the least. There were no branches scraping against the windows on the side of the house, and she’d left them a little longer deliberately just for some atmosphere, even though John told her she’d regret it later. Even a light breeze made the attic groan, but despite a pretty solid wind outside, the old wood was quiet.

  When dinner was over, The Boo Crew looked pretty bored. Zach, the lone wolf guest, had said something about going into the basement, but once he was done with dinner, he looked pale and sweaty.

  “I’ve got a bit of a headache. I don’t think the weather here agrees with me. I’m going to retire for the evening. Can I explore the basement alone tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Sure,” Sammy said. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

  “I get migraines a lot. I’ve got some painkillers in my bag that will knock this right out.”

  With that, he was gone for the evening. Sammy started a fire in the fireplace, and her guests all gathered around for an evening of ghost stories.

  “Do you have any beer?” Jim asked. “If you do, we could pay you for it. Just as long as you don’t charge cruise ship prices for it,” he said with a chuckle.

  “I don’t,” Sam said and added that to her mental list of things to possibly keep on hand. “Wait, there might be some in the garage.” She wondered if John would have taken his beer stash with him.

  “Let’s go check,” Jeremy said and everyone got up.

  Sammy laughed. “You don’t all have to go.”

  “Are you kidding?” Rachel asked. “We haven’t seen the garage yet. I saw it from the driveway and it looked kinda spooky.”

  “I’m not really sure what we’re going to find out there. It’s probably empty, though, except for an old fridge. It might have beer in it.”

  “Let me grab my equipment,” Elliot said.

  “Yeah, we’re going to get our cameras,” Lance said and Jeremy nodded his head in agreement.

  So Sammy, Jim, and Rachel waited by the back door for the others. When the other guys emerged from upstairs with their gear and cameras, everyone headed out into the backyard.

  An owl screeched overhead in a neighbor’s tree, and everyone gasped and ducked. Following that, the group erupted in laughter.

  “I think we’ve got ourselves worked up.” Rachel said.

  “This has to be just about the creepiest backyard I’ve ever seen,” Jim said, and some of his false bravado had cracked. “How did you get it so perfect?”

  “None of this was intentional. We kept the weeds cleared out, but we didn’t do much back here. It was on my list of things to do when I started making a profit. I figured I could turn it into an English garden or something,” Sammy said. “I assure you, it looks far different during the day.”

  “I can’t imagine ever having to come out here at night. Ugh. Like, I can’t even fathom how you look out your kitchen window without getting the heebie-jeebies. So, that John guy spent time out in the garage at night?” Rachel asked.

  Sammy cringed when Rachel brought up John, but nobody else in the group even picked up on it. They were too busy spreading out into the yard to film or record. She had to admit that the yard felt much darker than you’d expect, given the brightness of the moon. The shrubs and trees in both her yard and the neighbor’s looked far more menacing at night than they did in the daylight.

  The worst part, at least according to Sammy, was how sinister the garage looked. Even after everything she’d survived, the sight of the old garage made her heart pound. She thought to herself that perhaps it wasn’t that the garage appeared frightening. Maybe it was because that had been John’s space, and if it were really empty, she’d have to accept that he was truly gone. It would’ve been too hard to stuff the feelings down under her new responsibilities.

  “I can go in if you don’t want to,” Elliot said, and Sammy realized that she’d just been standing there, staring at the garage door.

  “Thanks,” she said. “Let’s just go in together.”

&
nbsp; The overhead bulb flickered a little when Sammy threw the switch. The gray concrete and bare drywall were drab, and it was much darker than she’d expected. At first, Sammy wondered how anyone could have done any work in the space, but she realized John must have had auxiliary lighting that he’d taken with him. Either that or the garage wasn’t really his workshop, and Sammy hadn’t known him as well as she’d thought.

  The old fridge was in the far corner, and it vibrated softly. “At least we know it’s on,” Sammy said to break the silence.

  “Let’s crack this baby open,” Jim said boisterously.

  Sudden dread filled Sammy. It felt like they were about to discover something horrifying in the appliance. Pictures she’d seen of the Jeffry Dahmer crime scene flashed through her head. “Wait!” she cried out desperately.

  “What?” Jim said as he whirled around.

  “What’s wrong, Sammy?” Rachel asked. She put a comforting hand on Sammy’s shoulder.

  “Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

  All of the guys turned from Sammy to Rachel. They looked as if they were asking for permission.

  “It’s okay, guys. This garage has memories for our host. Why don’t Elliot and I stay in here with Sammy, and the rest of you can go take some video, photos, and audio recordings in the yard. Let’s get as much material as we can out here. Elliot, you get some readings and video in here. I’ll help Sammy with the beer.”

  After all of the hoopla, Sammy hoped that there would actually be some beer in the fridge. Otherwise, she’d embarrassed herself for nothing. Well, not nothing. She was sure the video and pictures of the creepy backyard would help her sell more rooms.

  Sammy held her breath and pulled the handle of the refrigerator. The light inside illuminated a huge portion of the garage floor, and Sammy’s jaw dropped at the contents.

  “Oh yeah! That’s what I’m talking about,” Jim called out. He nudged Sammy out of the way and reached inside to grab a case of domestic beer.

  “Jim, dude. You’re being rude. You were supposed to be outside,” Rachel said.

  “I don’t have equipment to use out there. Besides, I wanted to see what was in this thing. I’m happy I stuck around. I call dibs on the Budweiser.”

  “Jim, you cannot drink that whole case yourself. One, you’d probably die. Two, don’t be a stingy butt much,” Rachel said.

  “Oh please, it’s not like you like beer.”

  Elliot joined them. He bent down to peer inside. After a shrug, he reached in and grabbed a six-pack of hard cider. “I’ll share this with Lance and Jeremy. There’s two bottles each. It should hold us.”

  “I can’t believe how much beer there is out here,” Sammy said. She’d had no idea John drank so much.

  “What do you want?” Rachel asked.

  “I don’t know.” Sammy wondered if she should drink at all. She had a history of drinking too much when things got stressful, and there was a great deal of responsibility at her feet at that moment. She couldn’t afford to spiral. “There’s vodka,” is what she actually said.

  “You and I can share that. Do you have anything to mix it with?” Rachel asked.

  “There’s juice,” Sammy offered.

  “Oooh. If you’ve got grapefruit and cranberry, we can make sea breezes.” Rachel grabbed the bottle of Absolut from the bottom shelf.

  Sammy nodded her approval and followed The Boo Crew back inside. She figured that if nothing else, she could make her drinks mostly juice.

  Once drinks were ready, they all sat down around the fire and Sammy told them her stories. With her tongue loosened by a splash of vodka, she told them the entire story to the best of her recollection. The Boo Crew sat in rapt attention as Sammy regaled them with the tale of her demonic encounter and then the ordeal she’d survived with the haunted mirror. Elliot, Jeremy, and Lance all took recordings while she spoke, but otherwise, everyone was silent and still.

  When she was done, everyone had a buzz from the alcohol and spooky stories. But, much to her dismay, the house remained uncharacteristically silent.

  Chapter Four

  A scream made Sammy sit bolt upright in her bed. She scrambled to put on a robe and shuffled quickly into the hallway. It was just before four in the morning. Sammy was due to get up in a little more than an hour to make breakfast. It was still dark outside, and her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the light in the hall yet.

  Sammy ground her fists into her eyes, trying to get them to function properly. When she finally cleared them, Samantha wished she could go back to being half blind.

  Zach laid halfway out of his room. He was faceup, and it was obvious he was dead. His eyes were wide open, and Sammy’s first thought was that she wished they were closed.

  Rachel stood over the dead man, and the other doors up and down the hallway began to open as the rest of the crew emerged sleepily from their rooms. “He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead,” Rachel stammered.

  “What’s going on?” Jim asked as he stumbled out of his room in a white t-shirt and blue plaid boxer shorts. “Oh crap.”

  “Hey guys. I’m going to call the police. Maybe you should go back into your rooms until they are done.”

  “I don’t want to stay up here,” Rachel said just as tears began to spill down her face.

  “Okay, well, we can all head downstairs. Just try to stay away from the body.”

  Sammy stood there and watched as the members of The Boo Crew filed out of their rooms and down the stairs. Once they were all down, she followed behind. For just a moment, when she looked up, Sammy could swear the mirror was back at the base of the staircase. She shook her head. There was nothing there. It must have just been the shock.

  Fifteen minutes later, the police arrived. Sammy was grateful that it was different officers than had been at her home before, but she knew more would come. Twenty minutes after the first squad car arrived, Hainsley Inn was a buzz of law enforcement activity. Eventually, there were police, fire, paramedics, and people from the Coroner’s Office all coming and going through the front door. Sammy had shut Tut in the laundry room to keep him from getting spooked and running away. He frequently protested by meowing and scratching furiously at the door.

  Sammy decided that making breakfast would be a better use of her time than sitting around fretting. She asked a man who looked like he was in charge if that was okay.

  “The dead guy’s upstairs, so I don’t see any problem with you using the kitchen,” he said. “Especially if you make enough for my guys.”

  “Sure, I can do that,” Sammy said.

  She set to work making bacon, eggs, and biscuits. Rachel wandered into the kitchen. Sammy figured she’d smelled the bacon frying. “Can I help?” Rachel asked. “I can’t stand just sitting around, watching everyone else work. Plus, I’m not sure I can take any more of Jim’s football stories. I mean, I was there for most of them, and I’ve heard them retold a million times.”

  “Sure. I’m going to make enough for the police and whoever else is still around. So I need a lot more than I usually would.”

  “That’s nice of you,” Rachel said. “You’re a cool chick.” Something flitted across Rachel’s face, but Sammy couldn’t quite tell what it was. She almost thought the other woman looked remorseful, but for what? It was a stressful morning, so that was probably all it was.

  Sammy and Rachel put the spread out on the dining room table. They included butter, jam, peanut butter, and a selection of cheeses. Samantha got to use her new commercial coffee maker for the first time, and she realized with embarrassment that she should have put on coffee for her guests and officers first thing. There was a great deal to learn about being a hostess, and Sammy figured she needed to cut herself some slack.

  Once the meal was laid out and the coffee was ready to be consumed, Sammy walked out into the living room to let everyone know they could dig in. She instantly wished that she’d waited a few minutes. The guys from the coroner’s office were bringing the body
down on a stretcher.

  “Oh my,” she said and unconsciously clutched at her throat. “Okay guys. The food is ready. Everyone is welcome. There is fresh coffee in the dining room with the food, and there’s soda, juice, and sparkling water on the kitchen table with plastic glasses. The milk is in the fridge.”

  The firemen had already gone because they’d been called to a fire, but the police and detectives went for the fresh coffee. Sammy put on another pot as soon as the first was empty, and her guests chatted with the police and detectives while they ate. Rachel put together sandwiches and asked if Sammy had any Styrofoam cups.

  “I want to take stuff to the police outside,” Rachel said.

  “That’s a good idea. I should have thought of that, and you shouldn’t be working. You’re supposed to be a guest,” Sammy said.

  “It’s okay. I can only imagine how bad this sucks for you. I don’t know how you’re holding it together so well.”

  “I don’t know either,” Sammy admitted. “Let’s take some coffee outside.”

  Once breakfast was over and there was only one detective left at the inn, Sammy set to work cleaning up. While she was washing dishes, the detective approached her.

  “Ms. Hainsely?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “I’m Detective Larkin. I’m about to leave, and we’ll all be out of your hair. I’m going to leave my card on the table for you. I need you to come to the station tomorrow and talk to me. Okay?”

  “Okay. What time?” Sammy asked after turning around and wiping her soapy hands on her apron.

  “I think I should be ready to meet with you around eleven. Will that work?”

  “That will be fine. I’ll have breakfast done here. I can make it.”

  “Thank you,” Detective Larkin said and left.

  It occurred to Sammy that she’d need help sooner rather than later. What would happen if something came up and she wasn’t able to make breakfast for her guests? There was a Bob Evans in town, so she could order a couple of family meals in an emergency, but that wasn’t something Sammy wanted to do. The price of the room was supposed to include a home-cooked meal. She tried not to think about how much easier the whole thing would be if John hadn’t left her.