Haunted House Tales

by Riley Amitrani

  “Guessing you heard that, huh?” Jack asked.

  Arianne smiled at him her eyes wide in excitement and anticipation. Likewise, Jack felt his heart race and his pulse pound as he was sure this was to be his first real encounter with all the things that Arianne had told him about over the years. Getting a better grip on the camera, his fingers now damp with sweat, Jack looked to Arianne to take the lead.

  “This may be too soon,” she whispered at him, “but I want to try to communicate with this one. Hang tight. I have no idea which way this may go.”

  Jack nodded his understanding, but her warning did not exactly fill him with assurance and confidence.

  “Are you there?” Arianne asked in a loud and even voice.

  The banging stopped briefly as if whatever it was above them had heard her. Jack nodded his approval indicating for her to continue.

  “Who are you?” she asked this time.

  More silence.

  “Why are you here?” What do you want?

  The firm banging noise ceased, to be replaced in just a few seconds with a dragging or scraping like sound, but nothing was vocalized from above.

  “Can we talk to you?”

  Following this last request, they heard what sounded like the clatter of footsteps up and down the staircase and a loud cacophony of whispering of voices that rose to a soft level of conversation, although none of the language was understandable. It was not exactly a foreign language as far as Arianne could figure, but more of a babel of gibberish and just run-on words that had no basis as any type of language. The voices began to peter out after just a few minutes and were replaced with the trodding of a single set of footsteps making their way down the stairs. The individual steps were heavy and determined, giving the impression of a giant of a presence owning them.

  The steps continued on one after another and Arianne was sure they were getting closer and closer to them. The EMF meter had gone quiet for a while, but as the heavy steps echoed down the stairs the readings once again had picked up and the needle was bouncing wildly across the entire gauge display until there was an audible cracking sound and the meter went dead, a puff of black smoke leaking from the back of the device, making Arianne gasp in shock. Acting solely on instinct, Jack ran from the room they were in and began snapping pictures all along the flight of stairs as quickly as he could. The flash was illuminating the foyer and the stairs vividly, but to the naked eye, nothing was visible.

  Jack stopped after taking a barrage of photos and began reviewing the shots he had taken as Arianne looked over his shoulder, breathing deeply in an almost hyperventilating mode. All the photos were just pictures of the stairs and the lower landing as they led into the foyer as Jack panned through them.

  “I don’t understand?” Jack exclaimed. “I was sure we would…”

  He stopped in mid-sentence as he finally came upon one exposure that was different. Arianne gasped again and gripped Jack’s shoulder tightly as they stared at the ghostly image that was now visible in the viewfinder. The overall image was indistinct and amorphous, almost gauzy in texture with a few of the steps visible through the blob that had filled the frame. However, unless he was mistaken, Jack was sure he could make out rough details of what looked like facial features within a head-like form atop the figure’s body.

  “Holy shit, Arianne! Is that a…a…”

  “A face? Sure looks that way to me…”

  Then, with no warning, Jack felt a strong force grasp the camera away from him, unable to keep his grip with his sweaty hands. The camera then flew away from both of them across the foyer as if launched by invisible hands and disappeared into the darkness of the hallway to the left of the staircase. As soon as the camera had been flung away from him, all the lights in the house went out casting the interior of the place into complete darkness. It was such an intense blackness that Arianne could not even see her hand in front of her face from just a few inches away. There was then a menacing and frightening cackling sound of demented laughter. Arianne lost physical contact with Jack and they both screamed…

  She knows he is still there in front of her somewhere but as hard as she tried, she could not locate him. She whipped her arms and hands about madly trying to find Jack, but all she found in her wild flailing was empty space. The odd voices they had heard from upstairs now seemed to have migrated down to the lower level, but it was still the same mash-up of random gibberish as before. And as far as Arianne could tell, there did not seem to be a specific source of the voices. They were raspy and rough and echoey but to her ear felt as if they were coming from every direction all at once…from over her head, from next to her on all sides, from under her feet, even.

  Then to add to the total confusion and terror, the heavy thudding footsteps began again. But this time they sounded as if they were coming from down the opposite hallway from the one in which Arianne was currently located. Behind each step was a distinct scraping or dragging sound as if the giant beast coming at her was hauling a very heavy load. One heavy footstep would plant, then the scraping sound as if the load had to be brought along later, then again one heavy footstep would plant, then the scraping sound as if the load had to be brought along later…this went on over and over until Arianne felt she was losing her mind, dreading what might happen next. The steps finally ceased as the dragging came to a stop as well. Arianne felt that whatever had been coming for them had possibly given up or changed its mind.

  Then Jack cried out from the darkness for help. It was a plea of desperation and hopelessness and utter fear. Arianne had never heard such a tone from Jack in all the years she had known him, and that cry from the dark was like a spear to her heart. She called out to him but there was no reply. Then the lights snapped back on and everywhere around her, the house looked completely normal. Normal except for the fact that Jack was no longer there…

  All Of A Sudden A Minimum Wage Job Does Not Seem So Soul-Crushing…

  Suffolk, Virginia

  July 6, 1998, 3 AM

  Arianne looked around in a wild panic as tears fell from her eyes from what she had feared was possibly about to be the end of her own life. Her hair was wringing with sweat and her shirt was sopping wet with perspiration as well. The interior of the house appeared to be fine. There was no damage to anything. There was no indication of anyone else in the house. The EMF meter sat perched on one of the wooden chairs, a thin trail of smoke still leaking from the casing. It was like it had all been a very bad nightmare. That was until Arianne saw the demolished camera near the front door and no sign of Jack except for his old Baltimore Orioles cap lying at the base of the stairs.

  “Jack!!” she cried out at the top of her lungs.

  There was no answer. Just the annoying ticking of that damn clock off to the side. Arianne made a mental note to herself to throw that damn thing as far from the house as possible if they actually survived this ordeal. With nothing coming back to her but her echo, Arianne fell into a panic that was threatening to overwhelm her like a tidal wave. All she could think of at the moment was that something must have happened to Jack making him unable to answer her. With no real plan in mind, Arianne began to run from room to room in each of the twin corridors throwing open doors and calling for Jack with all she had. However, each room she came upon was empty, save anything they had left there earlier.

  Taking the steps to the upper level two at a time, Arianne charged upwards with no thought or concern for her own welfare. A small twinge of fear tweaked her heart as she reached the upper landing, remembering that her strongest feelings of an entity had been up here, not to mention good old Brewster in the bathroom mirror. But she pushed all this away as she raced down to the bathroom. Her hand trembled as she flung open the door, but it was devoid of Jack as well. She then turned and went to each bedroom, one by one, finding just empty rooms as well until she reached the single bedroom that was across the hall from the twin bedrooms with a connecting door. In the dim light of the single overhead bulb that hung prec
ariously from the ceiling—fixing that light and adding a fixture was still on the to-do list of repairs—she spotted Jack slumped over and huddled in the far corner…not moving.

  Her heart skipped a beat as she realized he was an inert lump, but she ran to him anyway. As she neared him, Arianne felt a wave of relief as she saw him taking slow but regular breaths. She fell to her knees and grasped his head between her hands, bringing his face up so she could look in his eyes. As far as she could tell, he was not bleeding and had suffered no other injuries or visible trauma. He looked funny, though…not the way Jack normally looked to her. He did not seem to have taken any blows to the head, but the glassy appearance of his eyes and his overall lack of recognition in his face as she looked closely at him reminded her of when he had had that concussion during the championship football game his junior year.

  Jack just seemed dazed and out of it as she smoothed his hair back from his brow. Initially, he behaved as if he did not know who she was, but after a few minutes, Jack forced a weak and crooked smile and Arianne felt he at least knew who she was now. She hugged him to her chest, but all he had in return for her was the weak flopping of powerless arms on her back. As her pulse slowed, and she wiped her tears away, Arianne sat with Jack trying to figure this all out.

  “Jack?” she asked quietly as she refused to let go of her contact with him, “how did you get up here?”

  “Up here?” he replied as if not quite understanding the question.

  “Yeah. Do you know where you are?”

  “I…uh…we…”

  Jack’s voice just trailed off to nothing. Arianne thought maybe he had no visible trauma, but somewhere inside, Jack had endured something.

  “Do you remember us downstairs just a little while ago?”

  Jack furrowed his brow at her, looking confused and lost.

  “We were taking photos and then the lights went out. Remember?”

  Jack gave her a serious look and then it was like a light bulb went off in his head.

  “Oh, yeah…in the foyer and on the stairs. Sorry I dropped the camera…”

  “No worries. We can get a new one.”

  Arianne was slightly relieved that he was remembering bits and pieces, but it still did not answer how he had come to be in the bedroom here. And though he was recalling the events from before, he was just struggling to recall anything. It was weird…

  “You remember how you got up here now?”

  “Sorry. All I remember is this painful flash of light, then it went dark and I woke up when you found me.”

  “Not to worry. It’s been a long night. How about we pack it in and try and get some sleep?”

  “Sure. I’m just spent…”

  Arianne nodded as she helped him to his feet and supported him across the hallway to the bedroom they were using for now. You and me both, pal…Arianne thought as she flipped off the light behind them and led him along. She got Jack settled in the bed and he fell asleep immediately as she stared at his form under the covers still feeling quite freaked out and baffled as to what exactly had happened to them. She was empty, both physically and emotionally, but her nerves were still taut as piano wire. Arianne was sure she would not sleep that night, but before she knew it her eyes suddenly fell closed and she drifted away on clouds of exhaustion. A soft rain pattered on the tin roof as a new storm began to brew outside. Other than that the house was quiet…well, almost. There was a low murmur of voices as a myriad of shadows floated in and out of the bedroom, circling around the sleeping couple. It was fortunate that Arianne slept through the whole episode, or she might have run far away from Harmony House, screaming in uncontrollable horror, if she had awoken to the spectacle hovering over them.

  ……….

  July 6, 1998, 9 AM

  The early morning sun broke through the gently waving branches of the young elm trees that framed the window of their bedroom, as a slight breeze had replaced the storm from the night before. Birds chirped and water dripped pleasantly from the foliage as Arianne sat up, the sunbeams making her squint. She had forgotten for just a minute or two about last night as she awoke, but then it all came crashing back to her as she looked over to see Jack curled into a fetal position, still deeply asleep. She slipped silently from the bed so as not to disturb him and put on her robe. She stood nearby wondering what Jack could possibly have endured. What she needed was some fresh air and a walk. Just to clear her head and maybe get some sudden enlightenment from elsewhere…though she did not know from where that might be.

  She threw on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a light coat before touching Jack lightly on the shoulder. After a more insistent touch, Jack finally came awake as well and rolled over. He looked awful. His face was very pale and drawn and the whites of his eyes had this odd yellow tint it seemed. Like a touch of jaundice, Arianne thought to herself. Even after having slept through the night, Jack did not look like himself at all.

  “I’m going to run some errands. You going into work today?” she asked as she tried to pat down his hair which was going in all directions at the moment.

  Jack had hung onto his bar job for the time being so as to give them a bit of money coming in until the business got its own legs. But as Arianne looked down at his oddly frail and sickly-looking face, it was no surprise when Jack told her he was not going in that day. What was surprising, however, was that he did not seem to even want to or was unable to look her in the face. She supposed it as part feeling ill and maybe part lingering confusion over the previous night’s adventure…maybe he was even a bit embarrassed that she had been forced to help him to bed. Arianne sat on the corner of the bed as Jack sunk deeper into the covers.

  “Want to talk about last night, Jack?”

  “No…just want to sleep.”

  It was cut and direct, bordering on rude. This was definitely not the Jack Sawyer she knew. He must be feeling really bad, Arianne concluded…the Jack she knew never spoke in a short, choppy, almost snippy manner as that. She let it go and stood to leave.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  Jack mumbled something back from under the sheets, a bit like the voices they had heard from last night, to Arianne’s ear it sounded garbled and more like gibberish than actual words. She smoothed out the linens and headed out to see if any ideas explaining the bizarre night might come to her.

  Whoever You Are…You Sure as Hell Ain’t Jack Sawyer…

  Suffolk, Virginia

  July 6, 1998, 1 PM

  Arianne walked the neighborhood, but nothing was coming to her that was helping to explain any of what had happened. She had not anticipated the abrupt and violent backlash from her attempts to communicate with the entity in Harmony House. All her previous experience with such things, dating from her childhood on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, had been calm and serene and friendly. Whatever they had awakened in this house, though, could not be any more of a polar opposite if last night’s episode was an example. It made no sense though. All of the history from the house that she knew of did not seem to align with what had happened. Then she remembered Brewster…had they unearthed the spirit of the man who had sworn out vengeance on the entire town of Suffolk? Arianne stopped in her tracks as a shiver shot down her spine.

  None of these ghost inquiries were new to her, but perhaps she had gotten in over her head here if this was the malevolent and vile Brewster. And poor Jack. He had never had a first-hand experience before, and because of her, he experienced a baptism by fire. No wonder he was looking so ill and had cowered under the covers of the bed, not wanting to even look her in the face. Arianne felt an enormous pang of guilt and responsibility for his current condition. She sat on a small bench near the park on Duggins Avenue as her legs suddenly did not seem to want to support her anymore. Tears fell silently from her eyes as she watched a man play catch with his dog over on the green of the park. What had she done?

  After composing herself, Arianne stood again and headed over to Luann’s, the coffee shop where they had
decided to buy Harmony House, to try and chase away the chills of her realization with some coffee. As she sat and sipped at her drink, Arianne was torn between walking away from the idea of the ghost hunting business and maybe giving it one more try now that she knew what she might be facing was not the spirits she was familiar with from her childhood. She pulled her notes from the folder she carried in her backpack and studied them intently until she had made her decision. In the last third of her material, she came across a technique that she had never tried before. It was highly recommended for resistant specters or ones with a definite malevolent make-up. She would try it one more time using this approach, and if that blew up in her face as well, she would call it a day.

  Arianne strode back to Harmony House with vigor and a new determination in her soul. The house was eerily silent as she came in the front door. She had hoped Jack might be up and about by now, but she heard nor saw any signs of him on the lower level. Even as she called out to him, she got no answer. She went to the stairs to go up and check on him as she stopped abruptly at the bottom of the flight as she heard this odd, muffled pacing sound coming from the bedroom where she had left Jack fast asleep. It was a frenetic, anxious pacing of bare feet going back and forth in an almost rhythmic pattern. She frowned, but then jogged up the stairs. Apparently, Jack was up and around after all. She thought that a really great improvement until she opened the door to find him clad only in his underwear, racing from wall to wall drawing these odd symbols on every available space in an almost demented and compulsive display.