2nd Spectral Book of Horror Stories

by Paul Finch

  The paper could have been anywhere.

  She eyed the caves. The smaller ones were piled with seaweed and sea-smoothed timber. The larger yawned further up the small beach, sunlight revealing wet walls and a dripping ceiling, and making the shadows further in deeper, almost solid.

  We loved there , she thought, and the memories were rich and precious.

  "I'm here!" she called. Her voice was dull, the cliffs offering no echoes. Perhaps her shout travelled further into the cave. Perhaps somewhere in there, deeper down, their cries of passion still pulsed.

  Debbie walked back and forth across the beach, looking for the scrap of paper from inside the smashed bottle. The shattered glass remained, the vessel's message still unread. She lost track of time. The sea's sounds were amplified here by the Cove, hush and roar, hush and roar, and her feet passing over pebbles added to the ocean's song.

  She sat on the stones and stared out, realising that the tide was coming in quickly now. But she didn't mind. She could reach the cliff in a few seconds and be climbing, back on the path high above in five or ten minutes. And she could not simply leave. Not after being drawn here, and not before reading that last message.

  "Oh please, Marc," she said, hopeless, lost. No one, nothing replied.

  Hush... roar. Hush... roar.

  The tinkle of glass on glass. Bottles, dozens of them, were floating in the surf, clinking into each other with every watery shrug.

  Debbie stood and waded out, reaching for a bottle. It bobbed just out of reach.

  Another came close, and she went deeper. Up to her thighs now, her shorts wet, she leaned forward and clutched at the bottle as it floated nearer.

  It sank out of sight.

  She frowned. Being teased. She took one step back.

  The wave came from nowhere, forming out of the surf and powering towards her, knocking her over, crushing her down against the beach, the rocks. Breathless, she tried to gasp in air but sucked in water instead. The salty tang burned her throat. She gagged, vomited, thrashing as the wave dragged her back out.

  Managing to find one breath, she screamed long and loud, her voice instantly smothered by the next huge wave. She was bashed down against the beach, winded. She rolled, grasping for something solid but finding only water. Around her in the tumult, bottles clashed and broke, spilling their secrets to the ocean forever.

  She wondered what had been written on that final note. Perhaps it had been a warning.

  The more Debbie struggled, the further out she was being pulled, violent seas spinning and swirling. She sucked in another chestful of water, and for an instant she thought it might take her closer to Marc.

  But there was nothing of Marc here. There never had been. No voices in the waves, no warm touch, only false messages of hope. He was one of the ocean's lost souls.

  Debbie joined him.

  TOYS FROM THE GINGERBREAD COUNTRY

  Richard Jay Goldstein

  Here's Katie Jones, who is just about to turn ten.

  Katie's dad is Mr. Henry Jones. You might have heard of him, because he's the governor of a big state. And here's Mrs. Henry Jones, who is Katie's stepmom.

  Katie doesn't like her stepmom, and doesn't like it when she's around, because Katie is pretty sure her stepmom killed her real mom.

  ****

  Now it's Katie's tenth birthday and there's a big party for her at the governor's mansion, where they live. A bunch of girls from the private school Katie goes to are there, whom Katie likes okay, and also some of the Governor's assistants and secretaries, whom Katie doesn't like. But there's pizza, and a big cake, and games, and a not-scary clown, so all in all it's a pretty good party.

  Katie gets some good presents too-a new bike, a big-girl make-up kit, some neat books, and other cool stuff.

  And a dollhouse.

  Katie's stepmom gives her a big fancy dollhouse. It's an antique, and is very beautiful-even Katie has to admit that.

  "I played with this when I was a girl," Katie's stepmom tells Katie. "Now it's yours."

  "Thanks, Mom," says Katie, and under her breath she says the word step before mom.

  ****

  The Joneses live in the governor's mansion, which is also the governor's office. So besides Katie, and her dad, and her stepmom, the big house is always full of assistants and secretaries and maids and security guys and reporters. These people are forever telling Katie what to do and where to sit and how to behave. She likes it when it's just her and her dad, but that hardly ever happens anymore.

  Katie is tall and skinny, with dark blond hair, which she usually puts into a ponytail, but mostly it escapes and flies around her face. She likes to read, and doesn't care all that much for TV. The books she likes best are the ones about magic and strange places, like The Hobbit, and Harry Potter, and The Dark Is Rising. One of the reasons Katie likes to read is that when she's reading she can go into her own room and shut the door, and then nobody bothers her.

  ****

  Later that night, after her birthday party, Katie is alone in her room with all her presents, except for the bike. She's in her PJs. She sits on the floor and looks over the dollhouse.

  It's made of wood and is three whole storeys high, and Katie knows it's the kind of dollhouse called Victorian. The front side is just like a real house, with balconies, and fancy railings, and outside stairways, and lots of windows with carved shutters, and a bunch of pointed roofs, and two tall chimneys. It almost looks like a castle.

  The back side of the house is open, of course, so she can see into all the rooms, and see the inside stairways, and the hallways, and the pretty wallpaper, and the doors which open and close like real doors. There are pictures on the walls. She can look in through the back of the house and see out the windows in the front, and if she squints a little it's almost like being in an actual house.

  There are even closets in some of the rooms, and those doors open and close too. Except for one. In the biggest upstairs bedroom there is what looks like another closet, but the door won't open. She picks at it with her fingernail, but she can't get it to budge.

  Maybe it's not a real door , she thinks. Like the other ones.

  But then she forgets about it, because the rest of the house is so awesome. Along with the dollhouse there is a box full of miniature furniture, and she starts arranging the furniture in all the rooms, even though if you had asked her the day before she would have told you she was too old to play with dollhouses.

  What I need, she thinks, are some little dolls the right size to use the furniture.

  She's still playing with the dollhouse when her dad knocks on the door and comes in.

  "Time for bed, kitten," he says. "Want me to read you one of your new birthday books?"

  This is an amazing treat. Katie nods her head up and down a whole bunch of times and hops into bed.

  ****

  It's really late and Katie is sound asleep. But then something wakes her up-a noise. Pretty soon she's all the way awake and listening.

  It's a kind of clicking sound. Then there's a little clunk, and then silence. Then some more clicking.

  The noises aren't a scary kind of noise. More like a curious clocky noise. And anyway Katie isn't a scaredy-cat type of girl. She sits up in bed. The clicking stops.

  She can see pretty good because there's the night-light, but she doesn't see anything different. Then she remembers her good old flashlight on the table next to her bed. She turns it on and shines it around the room.

  When the flashlight beam reaches the dollhouse she sees it right away. The closet door in the upstairs bedroom is wide open.

  It must be automatic, she thinks.

  She gets out of bed and goes with her flashlight to take a closer look.

  She shines her light into the little closet but the light doesn't seem to go in very far and she can't see anything. She sticks her finger through the door and feels around, but there's nothing to feel.

  Maybe there's a button somewhere, she thin
ks, to make the door open and close.

  But she can't find one. She tries to close the door herself, but it won't, and she doesn't want to break it. And now she's getting sleepy, so she climbs back into bed and turns off the flashlight.

  I'll figure it out tomorrow, she tells herself.

  ****

  Katie's real mom's name was Doris Jones. She died when Katie was six, when Katie's dad was still just a lawyer. Katie's stepmom was Mr. Henry Jones's secretary then, and her name was Miss Sheila Dunn, except Katie always called her just Miss Dunn.

  The way Doris Jones died was she jumped out of a window high up in Mr. Henry Jones's office. She left a note, which said Henry-I'm sorry. The note wasn't signed but everybody agreed it was Doris Jones's writing, and everybody also said Doris Jones had something called depression, and was taking pills for it, which Katie knew about, and had even spent some time in a special hospital for people with that, which Katie also knew. So everybody said it was sad, but not all that surprising, that Doris Jones jumped out of a window.

  Mr. Henry Jones was away at a meeting when Katie's mom jumped, and Miss Sheila Dunn was having lunch with a few other secretaries somewhere else in the office. So the police and everybody figured what happened was that Doris Jones came in to see Mr. Henry Jones, and was probably all upset about something, and got more upset because nobody was there, and wrote the note, and jumped out the window.

  But Katie has thought a lot about this, especially since she turned nine, and her idea is that Miss Sheila Dunn snuck away from lunch for a minute, maybe pretending to go to the bathroom, and got Doris Jones to write the note, which was supposed to say something like Henry-I'm sorry I couldn't wait, but I'll see you at home, but Miss Sheila Dunn pushed her out of the window before she could finish it.

  Mr. Henry Jones married Miss Sheila Dunn a year after Katie's mom died, and then became governor a year after that. People said he was very brave after his wife died, and they said Miss Sheila Dunn was brave too, for helping Mr. Jones after such a terrible thing, and they were both lucky to have each other.

  ****

  Katie wakes up early the morning after her birthday. It's Sunday, which means church, because the governor has to go, which means the governor's family does too, which means Katie.

  But, she figures, there's time to play with the dollhouse before I have to get ready.

  She jumps out of bed and goes to the dollhouse.

  There are little toy people in all the rooms.

  On the miniature chairs and beds and couches. At the tables. Tiny people, no bigger than her little finger, like children in a grown-up house.

  Well, some look like people. Some look like bugs. Some look like tiny machines. Some look like animals-kind of like cats, and ponies, and birds, but not exactly like them. Some look like nothing Katie ever saw-funny things with lots of legs and eyes. They are many different colors-purples and greens and turquoises and lavenders. She can sort of see through them, like they're made of clear coloured plastic.

  Katie has to laugh when she sees them, because they are all very funny and cute.

  How did they get here? she wonders. Maybe Dad left them, she thinks, or even my stepmom.

  But anyway she can play with them, and does. She moves them around, and pretends they visit each other, and have a tea party.

  Just when the tea party is going great, a maid comes in to help her get ready for church.

  After church, it's visiting with Gram and Gramp-her dad's mom and dad, because her stepmom doesn't have any family Katie knows about. Gram and Gramp have more birthday presents for her, and the visit takes the rest of the day, which is fine because she likes visiting Gram and Gramp. Sometimes she even wishes she could live with them all the time, and go to a regular school.

  In the end Katie forgets to ask her dad or her step-mom about the cute little plastic dolls in the dollhouse.

  Before she knows it, it's night, and the next day is school, which means early bedtime.

  But after a maid helps her get ready for bed, she takes a quick look at the dollhouse. The mysterious closet door is still open, and all the little toy creatures are still there, lying and sitting and standing around.

  She decides she has time to play, just for a few minutes. She pretends one of the little toy creatures goes into the closet.

  "Let's pretend you're getting dressed for a party," she tells the creature, which looks sort of like a pony with extra legs. Katie pokes the sort-of pony into the dark closet.

  "Oh, here are some wonderful dresses," Katie says in a toy pony voice. "I'll bring them out."

  She reaches in through the door with her finger, but now she can't feel the sort-of pony. She twists her arm all around but she still can't feel it.

  Something sharp jabs her finger.

  "Ow," she cries, and jerks her finger back, but for a second she's stuck and has to twist her arm around again. Then she's free, and a drop of blood wells up on her fingertip.

  Must be a nail sticking out or something , she thinks.

  She squeezes a couple more drops of blood out, because everybody knows that's how you make sure all the germs are gone. Just then her dad comes in to say goodnight, and her stepmom is with him, but it's okay because that makes two nights in a row her dad has come to tuck her in.

  Her stepmom stands by the dollhouse. "Do you like the dollhouse?" she asks, and looks at Katie funny.

  "It's awesome, Mom," Katie answers, and means it, and doesn't even bother to add the step before mom. "And I love the little toy people." But she forgets to ask who put them there.

  "Of course," says Katie's stepmom.

  Then Katie has to go to bed.

  ****

  Now it's late again. Katie's nightlight suddenly flickers, goes out, and darkness fills the room.

  Something wakes Katie up. Sounds. Moving lights.

  She hears tinny music, and tiny voices laughing. She hears a tap-tapping of impossibly little feet. Dots and squiggles of light dance over the ceiling, yellow and blue and red.

  She raises herself up on her elbows and looks across the room.

  The noises and lights are coming from the dollhouse. Little shadows move and bounce in all the rooms.

  Part of Katie wants to scream and run out of the room as fast as she can and get her dad. But another part doesn't want to do that. For some reason it's not exactly scary, just kind of like the night before when the closet door opened. Before she knows what she's doing, she climbs quietly out of bed.

  Maybe this is like a book about magic, she thinks, and I'll be like one of those kids.

  She tiptoes closer to the dollhouse.

  The little toy creatures are alive.

  They are dancing all over the dollhouse, in every room, up and down the stairs, inside, outside on the balconies. New ones are prancing and pirouetting out of the closet. Odd little creature-sized lamps glimmer, and their light keeps changing colour. A band of the creatures plays on strange tiny instruments. The music makes her head feel funny. The creatures bounce and jiggle. They parade through the perfect rooms, kicking up their itsy feet, nodding their bitsy heads, snapping their teeny fingers-if they happen to have feet or heads or fingers.

  Katie leans closer.

  The creatures stop dancing and turn to face her. The band squeaks into silence. The creatures look up at her with their itsy-bitsy teeny-weenie eyes. Then they all speak at once in thin piping voices.

  Hello Katie , say the creatures together, all their tinny little voices like one voice. We are so glad to meet you.

  Katie is thinking that now maybe she would like to leave and go get her dad, but she just can't seem to move her silly heavy feet. Instead of leaving, she leans even closer.

  What's the matter Katie? say the creatures. Cat got your tongue?

  "What... what are you?" Katie manages to ask.

  Oh, say the creatures, we are your very very best friends. Your BFFs.

  "How... how do you know my name?"

  The creatu
res all laugh, the cutest tiniest chuckles. When they have stopped laughing they look up at her with very bright little eyes.

  Don't friends know each other's names? they ask.

  "Yes," says Katie, "but..."

  Put your hands on the house, command the creatures, and Katie does.

  Now the cute little creatures begin to sing, and as they sing they begin to march, across her hands where she has placed them on the dollhouse, across her hands and up her arms, a perfect little parade.

  Katie Katie Katie, sings the parade, she's the one one one-she opens up the door and we'll have fun fun fun...

  ...as they march up her arms, kicking up their little feet, marching in time time time. Katie watches them as if she is dreaming, which maybe she is, but anyway for some reason it still isn't scary, and who cares, because the creatures are really cute and the song really is fun fun fun.

  Katie Katie Katie she's our girl girl girl-she opens up the door and we'll hop and jump and whirl...

  ...as they march and twirl up her arms and onto her shoulders and as Katie watches all dreamy they climb and boost each other up into her ears and skitter across her chest and sticky climb over her face and into her nose, which tickles and she almost sneezes, and they squish themselves smaller and smaller and wiggle and wriggle into her ears and nose and their piping voices disappear, and then it hurts, but only for a second, not nearly as bad as a shot, and then she can feel them swirling around in her head.

  Something in Katie changes changes changes, like a new eye opening up, and she knows things she didn't know before, but didn't know she didn't know. It's a new kind of feeling that feels like new clothes, all stiff and too big.

  In the dollhouse, all the rest of the toy creatures troop back into the closet and close the door, and Katie knows this without looking. She sees without looking how the dollhouse is bigger on the inside than the outside. She sees without looking how the dark in the dollhouse closet is filled with a light which beats like a heart, which keeps changing, and a country of rivers of new nameless colours opens up, and there are squirming piles of clear plastic creatures everywhere. This whirling dancing jiggling country tastes sweet and dark, like gingerbread.