Haunted House Tales

by Riley Amitrani

  They all looked at each other, but no one was smiling.

  “Coincidence?” Josh asked.

  “What do you mean?” Ted asked as he shook off the water from his shoulders.

  “You see it, Alice?” Josh asked.

  “What…the weather?” she replied.

  Josh nodded.

  “Just like the night Aunt Cecilia almost died…”

  No one nodded in agreement, nor did they discount his observation. Alice was sure Ted was about to laugh it off, but in his eyes, she could see an element of trepidation. She was sure it was a milder version of what she was feeling as well.

  “How about we check in and then meet in the pub to discuss this…what…windfall we have become the recipients of?” Ted asked.

  Both Alice and Josh nodded, and they headed toward the reception area to check in. Ted and Josh were waiting in the pub, with steaming mugs of coffee in front of them as Alice came in. She took the offered mug of her own and nodded to Ted in appreciation of his thoughtfulness in not making Josh uncomfortable nor tempting him by ordering alcohol. She settled into the thick comfy seat at the table as yet another clap of thunder rattled the panes of glass in the pub while the rain came in torrents lashing at them.

  “So…” Josh said as he sipped his coffee, “either of you know anything more about this bequest in Aunt Cecilia’s will than the solicitor has revealed?”

  “Not me,” Alice replied.

  “Not exactly,” Ted added as he set down his mug.

  “Meaning?” Alice asked.

  “Well…the whole thing seemed odd, so I poked around and had a colleague of mine who specializes in the legal aspects of such events to explain this to me. You know…since we are not direct beneficiaries based on British inheritance and all.”

  “And?” Josh prodded.

  “Well…it took some digging, but apparently there had to be some serious research done to prove that Aunt Cecilia had no other family once the will was found to specifically stipulate that the three of us were to own the cottage jointly. The background work all came up empty and unless some long-lost relative comes calling to make a claim, it seems we are the legal and rightful owners of The Crooked Cottage.”

  “I appreciate Aunt Cecilia thinking of us, Ted,” Alice replied, “but I have to admit I was a bit taken aback when the letter arrived.”

  “Me too, Alice…” Josh said.

  “You two have any idea what you want to do with the place?” Ted asked.

  “You mean like sell it versus live in it?” Josh asked.

  Ted nodded.

  “Do you have any thoughts on that, Ted?” Alice inquired.

  “I do, but I’d be interested in what is on your minds first.”

  Alice was not sure she had heard her brother correctly. The Ted she knew now…the Ted who would, according to all tales out of London, “sell his mother for a pence,” had shocked her to the core by offering to hear their opinions without trying to railroad his desires over them.

  “I have fond memories of the cottage.” Alice began, “at least until…well…you know…”

  They both nodded.

  “And Whitby is a lovely place. But after what Aunt Cecilia did and what happened to her after…well…I am pretty sure there is no way I could ever live in that place again. Just too many dark memories, I guess, you know? And besides, I love my life and home in Kent now. Josh?”

  “Thanks for asking, Alice…and you, too, Ted. But I am in no position to even be considering moving back up here, both from my own comfort zone and from my sponsors and therapists. And like Alice, it is just too traumatic to come back to.”

  “OK…” Ted said as he leaned back in his seat. “I am sure this may shock the two of you, based on what I am sure is a well-known reputation I have acquired in London, but I feel the same. The whole incident back when…well…despite what you may think of me now, it is a horrible memory I'd just as soon not revisit in detail. My suggestion would be to go over there, take an inventory and pick out anything of personal attachment that Aunt Cecilia might have left behind before selling the place off and going back to our lives down south. Any objections?”

  Both Alice and Josh indicated there was not. Alice had never even considered the possibility of a cloud of darkness hanging over the cottage from her aunt’s suicide attempt, but now that Ted had put the idea in her head, it made staying there any longer than absolutely necessary make her skin ripple with goosebumps. Perhaps Ted did not want to deal with a piece of real estate so far from London in practical terms, but deep down, she suspected his suggestion was not a smoke screen to hide anything. He seemed genuinely honest when offering his concern over any lingering darkness that might be attached to the quaint house.

  With nothing more to say about the cottage, and seeing as how they were all on the same page about what to do with it, they chatted a few more minutes, sharing fond childhood memories they had not collectively shared in years before turning in for the night.

  Back to The Crooked Cottage

  Kent, UK

  October 2017

  Ted was waiting in the pub in the morning, savoring another coffee as Alice and Josh wandered in to join him. They ordered breakfast and talked quietly among themselves, but all seemed a bit subdued, most likely a bit apprehensive of their destination for the day. The rain had stopped, but a lingering thick fog hung over the inn, making visibility even down the cobbled lane iffy.

  “You guys sleep alright?” Ted asked once the waitress left to place their order.

  “Not really…” Alice replied as she inhaled deeply of the aroma of the coffee.

  “Me neither…” Josh added. “Just nervous I guess.”

  “I nodded off right away.” Ted said, “but just could not stay asleep. I have never tossed and turned like that since I was a kid.”

  They went quiet again as the waitress brought their food.

  “I just want to get this over with,” Alice added, “I know we need to go through the place one more time, but I am sort of dreading it, you know?”

  Josh nodded in agreement.

  “Oddly enough,” Ted answered, “so am I. When I got the letter from the solicitor, it did not seem like such a big thing. Figured we would sell the cottage off, pocket some money, and that would be that. But since we have come here again, and talked about our time there as kids…all those great memories…at least initially…I am feeling sort of…I don’t know…conflicted I guess.”

  Both Josh and Alice nodded, but Alice, in particular, was finding how Ted had softened since they had left London quite surprising. They chatted lightly about other things in their lives as they ate, and soon they knew they had to get moving. Despite their collective apprehension, they needed to close this chapter in their lives. Ted paid the bill, and they set off on foot to walk the half mile or so to the cottage, pausing every so often to take in the sights in Whitby and discuss how things had changed, but how much had not, since they had left as children. Even as they dawdled along, they soon left the confines of Whitby proper and began the last stroll through the high grass and withered shrubs that led out to the overlook of the sea and the cottage.

  They all stopped as they came into a clearing that gave them their first image of the Crooked Cottage as adults. It was quite weathered from being located right on the cliffs above the water, and was in sore need of some TLC, but even without anyone saying anything, it was pretty much as they all had remembered it. Just some boards over a few broken windows to discourage any squatters was the only thing that felt different to them.

  “Still just as crooked as ever…” Ted whispered.

  “Yeah…” Alice added, “all this time, and it still seems to be hanging on to the cliffs at that odd angle.”

  “Why are we whispering?” Josh asked.

  They all chuckled, though somehow it seemed appropriate.

  “Shall we?” Ted asked.

  They all moved along as a group stepping up onto the warped and rickety fron
t porch after weaving through the collection of statues of children that Cecilia had erected long ago. The courtyard was still as barren and fallow as they had remembered as well, and all the vines clinging to the outside of the cottage were now long dead and dried up, many of which looked to be holding the old place intact.

  “Those weird, creepy statues are still here…” Alice commented as she wrapped her arms about her shoulders and shivered.

  “Yeah…” Josh replied. “I never understood what Aunt Cecilia saw in them or why she had them put up. All I remember is us playing around them constantly.”

  “Guess as kids we just did not see them that way…” Ted added.

  “Speak for yourself, Ted,” Alice replied, “I was always spooked by them. I just never said anything.”

  He smiled at her and looked up as the fog seemed to be closing in around the roof of the cottage and sinking lower down toward the ground. The key he had gotten from the solicitor turned roughly in the lock, but with some effort, it finally clicked through, and they pushed the battered front door open, as it creaked on rusty hinges through the mist, to move inside. As weather-beaten and fatigued as the exterior of the cottage looked, the inside could not have been any more the opposite. It was like time had stood still in the foyer and living spaces they could see. Certainly there was a coating of dust on much of the furniture and moldings of the walls, but otherwise, it was eerily familiar. Like nothing had been touched since they took Cecilia away, Alice thought.

  She supposed this should have given her an upbeat feeling, but that was not the case at all. Seeing all the old furnishings and decorations and rugs and such just reminded her of that awful night. Though not as cold as it was outside, nevertheless, Alice’s shivering picked up a notch.

  “You OK, sis?” Josh asked, noticing her trembling and that she had stopped as if frozen in place.

  “Um…yeah…sure…” Alice said. “Just got a quick flashback to that night, you know?”

  Both Ted and Josh nodded. Alice shook her head lightly to break the spell she had let the cottage cast on her and moved to try and get some lights turned on. Even more surprising was that some dim overhead lights came on when she hit the switch.

  “Power still on?” she said. “Was not expecting that…”

  “Maybe Johnson, the solicitor had that done,” Josh suggested. “I cannot imagine they just left the power on all these years with no one living here.”

  “Probably…” Ted added. “Want to take a good look around at the whole place before we start going through anything?”

  Alice and Josh shrugged and followed him as they moved through the living areas to the bedrooms on the lower level. The one room had been kept empty—though none of them had ever figured out why, as Cecilia never had company—and the other had been her bedroom. Both, though now devoid of linens, seemed just as they all remembered as well. Purposely avoiding the kitchen for Alice’s sake, Ted led them upstairs to peek in on their old bedrooms. Much like Cecilia’s room, Alice’s old bedroom seemed untouched other than what the passage of time had set upon it. It sent a shot to her heart as she looked over the space, recalling how she had adored finally having her own personal place to escape to. Before coming to Whitby, space had been at a premium with their parents, and Alice nearly wept recalling how thrilled she had been when Cecilia had said this was to be her own private room.

  They then wandered down the hall to take a look in at both Ted’s and Josh’s old rooms, which had the same overall appearance and vibe to them for each brother as Alice’s had for her. They stood in silence for a few moments, just letting their memories of their time in the cottage wash over them. The little bit of light that had been filtering through the windows in the bedrooms and other rooms now faded away as the fog intensified and the day grew abnormally dark considering it was still afternoon, though growing late. Alice was just about to comment on this, when a clap of thunder broke the peaceful quiet and caused all three of them to jump in place, as the whole little cottage rattled on its old foundation in response.

  Alice grasped Ted’s arm tightly as she gasped, her fingers digging into his bicep. With no more warning, ugly, jagged streaks of lightning tore through the now nearly black sky illuminating the hallway where they were standing brightly, even if only for a few seconds. The storm from the night before seemed to have come back for an encore, and all the acoustic and electrical assaults were immediately followed by a vicious torrent of rain, the likes of which Alice thought only occurred in the tropics.

  “Sorry, Ted…” Alice said as she released her grip on his arm, “that one really caught me off-guard.”

  “No biggie…” he replied, “some rough patch of weather since we got here, huh?”

  “So, anyone see anything they cannot live without?” Josh asked as he went to the window in his bedroom to watch the storm.

  “Certainly not up here.” Ted shot back. “How about we go back down and take a closer look on the lower level? We’ll need to kill some time anyway until this rain lets up…”

  “You two go ahead,” Josh said quietly as if in a semi-trance as he continued to gaze out the window. “I’ll catch up in a couple of minutes.”

  “You OK, Josh?” Alice asked still a bit concerned over her brother’s ability to be out and about from his shared house without professional supervision.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. Just like some time alone to walk a few more steps down memory lane is all.”

  She nodded despite her apprehension, and joined Ted as they went back to the foyer.

  “Is he really OK?” Ted asked her.

  “Honestly? I have no idea,” Alice replied. “According to his therapist, he’s made real strides in the last year or so, but being out and away from his home? Beats me…”

  Another deafening blast of thunder rocked the cottage again, and this time they could hear what sounded like the falling of trees outside and the lights went dark as well. The thunder had sounded almost like a bomb this time, and having the old cottage lose its lights gave Alice the shivers again.

  “Guess the lightning got a power transformer in town…” Ted offered.

  “Candle power then?” Alice asked.

  “Guess so…let’s poke around and see if we can find any.”

  Alice looked at him in the isolated light of his cell phone, and Ted could see the look of fear on her face. He assumed she knew this might mean looking in the kitchen, and for obvious reasons she was giving off the sense that she was not ready to go back there just yet—maybe not at all—and Ted could hardly blame her.

  “I’ll take the kitchen,” Ted proposed. “Here…use my phone and check out the drawers in the rooms along the hallway.”

  Alice appreciated his sensitivity toward her, knowing he must have read her mind. It was just a room, but for her, the kitchen was just too much at the moment.

  “Sure. Thanks, Ted…”

  He handed her his cell, and they went in opposite directions to find candles with which to light the interior of the cottage. As Ted entered the kitchen, it gave him a bit of a chill, as if the room was significantly colder than the rest of the cottage, but he was sure this was just his imagination. He felt his way along the counter near the sink, using his lighter to make his way, and pulled open the drawer where Cecilia had kept the knife she had used to try and commit suicide with. The knife was no longer there, but his hand shook as he felt inside the frame, just remembering back. Fortunately, in the very rear of the long drawer was a fat candle that must have been unseen when the cottage had been cleaned up.

  The hard, melted droplets from a former lighting still decorated the sides of it and Ted lit the wick using the lighter. The candle was resistant to taking the flame at first, probably from such a long time of not being used, Ted assumed, but it eventually lit up, the old wick crackling gently as it burned. A further search of the kitchen did not turn up any additional candles, and Ted cupped his hand over the flame as he went to leave to see if Alice had had any luck. Howe
ver, just as he was nearing the doorway, he looked down and was glad Alice had not yet worked up the courage to come in. Someone had tried valiantly to clean up from Cecilia’s suicide attempt, but even in the weak light of the candle Ted could see faded and remnant streaks of red from her blood still clinging to the old linoleum flooring where she had fallen. Unless Alice was keen at some point to go to the kitchen, Ted would not push her. In fact, he decided, it might be a good idea to warn her off the room completely to avoid her having to see the stubborn stains. He figured he could use logic to discourage her rather than say why it was not a good idea.

  He found Alice back in the foyer, an array of candles from squatty and fat to tall and thin set about at regular intervals. She looked up at him as he approached with the candle from the kitchen and smiled in relief.

  “Great…you found one. I found lots of candles but no matches.”

  “Me either…just ye olde lighter.”

  “Glad you never took my lectures on stopping smoking those nasty cigars to heart…”

  They both laughed lightly as they watched the candles light up the interior of the cottage—not like real lights, but good enough to chase away the shadows, Alice thought to herself. They both turned to greet Josh, who had come back downstairs to join them.

  “Someone forget to pay the electric bill?” Josh asked laughing.

  ‘Hardly…” Ted replied. “Electrical outage. Find anything interesting?”

  “No. Just thinking back, you know…”

  “Hey, guys…” Alice said, “with this nasty storm and all and us getting such a late jump on our looking around here today, what say we call it a night, head back to town for dinner and finish up in the morning? Maybe by then, the storm will have passed, and we can see things better in the light of day…”

  “Sounds good to me.” Josh replied. “Ted?”

  Ted looked out the window near the front door and saw that the rain had not slowed. In fact, if anything it might have even picked up a notch, if that was possible. They had rain gear, but it was a long walk back to Whitby proper, and Ted thought they would be soaked even with coats and hats.