Bad Places
Page 3
Jenny and Mark were sitting together in the hospital waiting room, Jenny hunched over in an uncomfortable chair, hiding her face with her hands. “How long has it been?”
“Six hours.”
“Why is it taking so long?”
“I don’t know.”
“I shouldn’t have left her alone up on that thing! Stupid! STUPID!”
“Accidents happen, Jenny.”
“But that didn’t happen on the tape,” Jenny whispered to herself.
“What?”
Jenny was about to respond when John entered the room, looking worn out. Jenny jumped up and ran to him. “How is she?”
“Out of surgery and in recovery. The doctors think she will be fine.”
“Can we see her?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“When?”
“Not for another couple of days.”
“A couple of days!?”
“Mark...” John waved him over. “Can you take Jenny home?”
“Sure.”
“No, Dad, I want to stay here,” Jenny protested.
“You can come back tomorrow. But you need to get some sleep.”
“What about you?”
“I’m staying. I’ll call you with updates.”
“Dad-”
“Can you stay with her, Mark?”
Mark nodded. “As long as it takes.”
John nodded and hugged his daughter and then kissed her on top of the head. “Everything is going to be find,” he whispered into her ear.
Jenny stepped back and then turned and walked off, Mark having to catch up.
Mark parked his car in the driveway. He and Jenny got out of the car and looked toward the house, both frowning. “Did we turn the lights on before we left?”
Jenny shook her head. “No.”
It appeared that every light in the house was on, both upstairs and downstairs.
“I don’t like this, Jenny.”
Jenny spotted a figure, moving quickly past an upstairs window. “You were right, Uncle Mark. This place is haunted, and it hurt my mom!”
“What did?”
“That’s what I want to find out.” Jenny, looking angry, walked toward the front door.
Entering the house, Jenny stood just inside the door, a defiant expression on her face as she looked around, as if expecting to see something, but there was nothing to see. Mark appear behind her, almost hiding behind her left shoulder. “See anything?” he asked.
“No.”
Hearing this, Mark stepped out from behind Jenny. “What were you saying in the hospital about what happened today to Donna not happening in the tapes?”
“Seems kind of silly now.”
“This is your uncle Mark you’re talking to, kid. I pick up poop for a living. Silly is my life!”
“Okay. Come on.”
In her room, Jenny picked up a video tape, holding it up for Mark to see.
“How many of these have you watched so far?”
“Three.”
“That leaves seven left. Do you know who made these tapes?”
“All I know that her name was Candy.”
Mark looked thoughtful for a moment. “I need a computer.”
“I haven’t unpacked mine yet, but I know Dad has his set up.”
“Where?”
Mark was sitting at a computer desk in John and Donna’s bedroom, looking at the monitor, his fingers moving over the keyboard. Jenny was peering over Mark’s right shoulder.
“Do you really think you’re going to find something about Candy online?”
“You can find something about anybody, if you know where to look.”
“County records?” Jenny asked, reading the information on the webpage on the screen.
“We can find names of past owners here,” Mark answered, scrolling the webpage. “What year was Candy’s tapes made?”
“1999.”
“Owner of the house that year was Brad Temple.” Mark opened a new webpage and typed in the names BRAD and CANDY TEMPLE in a search engine. Mark blinked in surprise at the number of returns on the names. “Freak Accident Kills Local Couple,” he read out loud. Mark clicked on the link and the page opened, an archived newspaper article. “Brad and Trudy Temple were killed last night in their home when a hot water heater in the basement exploded, sending it through the floor, where the couple was standing-”
“What happened to Candy?”
Mark quickly read through the rest of the article and shook his head. “The article doesn’t mention her.”
“Think she’s still alive?”
“You going to look for her, or something?”
“Maybe she could tell us what’s happening in this house.”
“I can try to track her down here. Give me a few minutes.”
Jenny started to walk off and Mark turned to watch her. “Where are you going?”
“I want to see what’s on the next tape.”
“Do you think that’s smart?”
“Not really, but I want to see anyway.”
“Leave the doors open and yell if anything happens.”
“Right.” Jenny walked out of the room, leaving the door open behind her.
Candy was walking upstairs, from her room to the stairs. “Things are getting worse here, but Mom and Dad just seem to be ignoring it. They stay in their room, while stuff is banging and crashing downstairs all night long!” Candy stopped at the top of the stairs an aimed the camera downward. A shadow seemed to move below and Candy gasped, taking a step backward. She turned and ran to her parents’ bedroom door. “Dad, there’s something downstairs!” Candy paused, waiting for a response. “Dad?”
“Go to sleep, Candy,” Brad Temple’s voice could be heard through the closed door. His voice was strangely monotone.
“Dad!” With a grunt of frustration, Candy moved away from the door and walked to the top of the stairs again, aiming the camera downward. “What do you want?” Candy called out. The sound of something being moved downstairs was heard, like a chair across a hardwood floor. “I read that ghosts really can’t do anything, except move things and make noise, so go ahead and have fun!” Candy was trying to sound confident. “This is our place now! You had your time, but now it’s our time! Our time!”
Then the sound of something moving quickly up the stairs with a heavy footfall. Candy backed away from the stairway, into her room, shutting the door a second before something hit it from outside. Candy dropped to the floor, frightened whimpers heard as she crawled toward her bed.
The door opened a crack.
The camera suddenly jostled, spun around, showing Candy being pulled under her bed, Candy screaming, reaching out for the camera.
Static.
“Holy shit...”
Jenny was staring at the TV, her eyes wide. She was sitting on the bed and slowly leaned, looking over the side. She then glanced up, seeing that the bedroom door was closed. “I didn’t close that door,” she said to herself. Then, a sound, coming from under the bed. Scratching, scurrying, and then a heavy thump. Jenny creeped closer to the edge of the bed, looking down, when the bedroom door burst open.
“Jenny!” Mark shouted as he entered the room.
Jenny was so startled, she fell off the bed and landed on the floor with a frightened yelp. “Uncle Mark!” She jumped up and moved away from the bed.
“I found her!”
“Who? Candy?”
“Yes! She still lives here in town!”
“Where?”
“Only one block away!”
Jenny and Mark left the house and walked up the street, Jenny glancing over her shoulder, looking up at her bedroom window. A shadow moved across the window.
“Why would she stay so close?” Jenny wondered out loud. “Especially since it’s where her parents were killed.”
“I don’t know.”
“It seems kind of sad, like she can’t get away from the place.” Jenny felt a wave of pity wash over
her. “How old is she now?”
“Probably around forty.”
Jenny and Mark turned a corner and walked in silence the rest of the way, unaware that the streetlights behind them were going dark, one after another.
Jenny and Mark stepped onto the porch of a small, rambler-style house and Jenny knocked on the front door. No answer. Jenny knocked again. A muffled voice was heard through the door.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Jenny.”
“Go away.”
“Candy, I’ve been watching your videos.”
The door opened and Candy appeared in the doorway. “Is it happening again?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
“Yes.”
Candy waved Jenny and Mark inside.
In the living room, Jenny and Mark were sitting together on a sofa, watching as Candy paced back and forth, looking like someone on the edge of sanity. Candy was muttering to herself, too low to be heard, but the occasional shaking of her head made it seem like she was arguing with herself. Jenny cleared her throat.
“I just watched the video where you got pulled under the bed-”
Candy stopped pacing and stared at Jenny for an uncomfortable length of time before responding. “It got worse than that later.” Candy frowned. “Why are you watching them?”
“I found them in the basement and curiosity got the best of me, I guess.”
“I destroyed those tapes, you know. Put them in the barbecue pit in the back yard and set them on fire. The house must have brought them back.”
“The house?” Mark raised an eyebrow and quickly glanced at Jenny.
Candy looked at Mark, as if noticing him for the first time. She cocked her head. “It’s the itself that’s... bad.”
“How?” Jenny asked.
“I’ve been looking into the house’s past, it’s history, and now I know it has to be destroyed! Utterly and completely!”
“The house is evil?”
Candy moved to a chair and sat, turning her face away from Jenny and Mark as she continued talking. “The house was built in 1925 by a man named John Carson.” Candy’s face twitched. “Carson was a lumberjack. When he married, he decided to build his wife a home made from some of the finest wood he could find. That wood came from a place he and his friends were told to stay away from by the locals..”
Jenny leaned forward, appearing mesmerized by Candy’s tale. “What are you saying?”
“Because of the wood used in that house, it’s like a beacon for spirits. Almost like a paranormal lighthouse. It will attract anything that happens to be in the area.”
“Not just ghosts?”
Candy did not answer, but the look on her face answered Jenny’s question.
“Did something happen to John Carson and his wife in that house?” Mark asked.
“Yes.”
“What?”
Candy motioned for Jenny and Mark to follow her as she walked out of the room.
Candy opened a door and turned on a light of a small room, really no more larger than a walk-in closet. The walls were covered with papers, from newspapers, magazines, paper from a computer printer, and pages from a bible. Mark looked at Jenny, concern on his face at seeing the unusual sight. Candy stepped into the room and pointed to a particular part of the wall. Jenny entered the room to look closer, while Mark stayed outside of the room, standing just beyond the open doorway. Jenny peered at what Candy was pointing at, a bold-type newspaper headline: MURDER! Jenny started reading out loud from the newspaper clipping pasted onto the wall.
“Local businessman, John Carson, and his wife, Mary, were found murdered in their home yesterday-”
“Murdered?” Mark said. “Nothing supernatural about that.”
“John and Mary Carson were found decapitated-”
“Disgusting, but still nothing particularly paranormal,” Mark countered.
“Mary Carson’s head was screaming when they found it and kept screaming for another hour afterward.”
“How the hell could it scream?” Mark asked, making a face. “You need lungs to push air past your vocal cords and if she was decapitated-”
“You wanted supernatural and that’s about as supernatural as it gets!”
“That was in the 1920’s. Has anything else happened since?” Jenny asked.
“How much time do you have?”
“You know, I hate to be a constant skeptic, but why isn’t this place known? I mean, there are a ton of ghost hunting shows on TV and I never saw that house in any of them.”
“I was contacted by one of those programs,” Candy replied.
“You were?”
“Someone obviously did their homework.”
“Which one?” Mark asked.
“Do you remember a show called SUPERNATURAL CENTRAL?”
“No.”
Mark nodded. “I do! It was cancelled after three episodes.”
“It wasn’t cancelled. The house was going to be the subject of their fourth episode.”
Mark, in spite of himself, entered the room and looked at the piece of paper with SUPERNATURAL CENTRAL information printed on it. “But...?”
“From what I learned, they went into the house one night, came out the next day, and immediately quit the business.”
Mark made a face again. “Publicity.”
“No one has seen anyone involved with SUPERNATURAL CENTRAL again since they quit. But I did receive a telephone call from one of them.”
“What did he say?”
“He only said one word before hanging up.”
Mark leaned forward. “What was it?” he asked in hushed tones.
Candy simply stared uncomfortably at Mark for a long moment, until Mark exhaled in frustration.
“That house tried to kill my mom,” Jenny said, angry.
“It did kill my mother and father,” Candy said.
“What can we do?” Jenny asked, staring at the wall of clippings.
“Move away.”
“Like you? A whole block away?”
“Jenny!” Mark sounded embarrassed.
“She’s right,” Candy said. “I couldn’t move away.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t want it sneaking up on me.”
“What? The house? I think it would be pretty easy seeing a freaking house sneaking up on you!” Mark was about to move out of the room.
“I’m talking about evil, Mr. Callahan.”
Mark blinked in surprise. “How did you know my name?”
“I keep a close eye on everyone who enters that house. Everyone.”
“How?”
Candy motioned for them to follow.
In the attic, Candy opened a window and pointed outside, Mark and Jenny seeing the house from the window. “But how did you know my name?” Mark asked.
Candy reached over and picked up a pair of binoculars. “It’s kind of scary what you can learn online from someone’s license plate.”
“You’ve been watching that house all these years?”
“Yes.”
“How many others have lived there since what happened to you?”
“Only one other family. It was 2012.”
“Anything happen to them?” Mark asked.
“Yes.”
“You didn’t try to warn them?”
“People tend to ignore when someone knocks on their door and says that their new house wants to kill them,” Candy retorted.
“What happened?” Mark asked.
“Didn’t do your research?”
“I’m not exactly writing a term paper.”
“The house was kinder to that family. All it did was chase them out. None of them died.”
Jenny spotted movement near the house. “Can I see those?” She took the binoculars from Candy. “Oh, my GOD! It’s Dad!”
“What!?” Mark exclaimed.
“He’s going into the house!”
“No, it can’t be him!”
“I know my own d
ad, Uncle Mark!” Jenny handed Candy the binoculars and rushed out of the attic, with Mark close behind.
Candy did not move. “What if it’s not him?”
Jenny and Mark turned the corner and ran up the street, not noticing that the streetlights were out.
“Are you sure it was your father, kid?”
“Yes, Uncle Mark.”
“It doesn’t make sense. Hold on! Think this through, Jenny!” Mark stopped. “You dad would never leave your mom at the hospital.”
Jenny had stopped and was looking up the street. “What else can it be?”
“It’s trying to draw us back.”
“What? The house? You really don’t believe what Candy said, do you?”
“You didn’t?”
“I’m not sure. From what I’ve seen on those videos, and after what happened to her parents. I think she’s just crazy. The fact that she isn’t over in Thunder Ridge proves she isn’t completely gone. Yet.”
“Thunder Ridge? Is that place even open anymore?”
“Yes, it is.”
“How do you know?”
“We took a tour for our psychology class. It was... disturbing.”
“Jenny, if that is your dad in the house, it probably means bad news. The worst news. Prepare yourself.”
“So, either my mom died or the house is trying to get us.”
Jenny and Mark continued to the house.
The front door was ajar.
Jenny and Mark stood on the sidewalk in front of the house.
“Dad wouldn’t leave the front door open like that,” Jenny said. “No way.”
“We can turn around right now, kid.”
“No. We have to be sure.”
“I feel like a fly, buzzing around a spider web, telling the other fly: ‘I dare you!’”
“You can stay out here, Uncle Mark.”
“I was going to tell you the same thing.”
Mark and Jenny glanced at each other and then walked together up to the front porch, stepping up to the partially open door. Mark reached out and opened the door, wincing at the loud creaking sound the hinges produced. “So much for sneaking up on them,” he said.
“Dad?” Jenny called out loudly.