Haunted House Tales

by Riley Amitrani

  Everything that they had been told about their mother had been a lie. Just as they knew for a fact, their father had abandoned them when they were just infants, but the tale of a drug-addicted and neglectful mother was apparently just fiction. Cecilia had kept a detailed and precise accounting of what Alice was sure was what had actually happened. It read in a believable narrative, and she could see no reason that Cecilia would have to make this all up on top of that. She read and re-read the sections several times just to make sure she was not interpreting the passages in any other way. But she was not. Her mother had not been an addict. Nor had she neglected them in any way or abandoned them like their father as they had often been led to believe. The journal did not indicate what specifically had happened to their mother, but what was crystal-clear was that Cecilia had been incredibly jealous of her sister.

  She had—and at this point, Alice had no idea how this had happened—come and had the three of them removed from their childhood home and inserted into her home at the cottage. The lost indication of what had happened to her mother plus the sudden appearance of them at the cottage apparently had raised some questions from authorities all around Yorkshire. And while she had no real evidence to back it up, Alice was assuming there was something, perhaps even including foul play, that had targeted her mother, as Cecilia indicated in the journal that “the noose was closing in on her.” The only entry after that was that she would rather die than possibly go to prison…the next day was when Alice had found her aunt on the kitchen floor after she had tried to slit her wrists. The psychiatric commitment soon followed.

  Following their fostering, none of this had been deemed appropriate, Alice assumed, for their ears. And despite their mother’s disappearance, no further inquiry was ever made. Alice and her brothers had never seen her nor heard from her again, with everyone seeming to feel that it was best to let them live with the drug addiction fable. Just as she was finishing up the last reading of the tell-tale journal, she looked up to see Ted and Josh come into the lounge. They sat with her, noticing the look of dismay on her face as she filled them in on what had really happened.

  “It’s horrible,” Ted said as Alice put the journal aside, “and I hate not knowing what really happened to mum, but in a way, it’s a relief to know whatever it was could not have been further from the story we were told.”

  “I guess…” Josh added, “I just could never reconcile the mum we knew with this drug-addled derelict. And believe me, I’ve seen enough of this to know of what I speak.”

  “I suppose…” Alice replied, “but not knowing her fate sure bothers me. Maybe even as much as the fable that got laid on us.”

  Both Ted and Josh nodded in agreement as they all sat quietly and warmed themselves by the fire.

  “So…” Alice said suddenly, “to change the subject, were you successful in finding anyone that will take on the cottage to sell?”

  “It wasn’t easy,” Ted replied, “as you might imagine, the cottage has a lot of history to it, especially with Cecilia’s suicide attempt. And the crooked structure of the place is not exactly a proud selling point either.”

  “But?” Alice asked.

  “But…” Josh added, “we got an agent after many interviews. She thinks she can market it just on its, shall we say, unique style and that it has been an interesting feature of Whitby for years. We just need to get over there and clean out those few items we all know about before she sees them, you know?”

  “What about our feeling that it could be haunted?” Alice asked.

  Ted shrugged.

  “You’ll love that part, “Josh replied. “She wants to use that as a selling point.”

  “You have got to be kidding me!” she responded.

  “Nope…” Ted said. “Apparently, at least according to this one agent anyway, that will draw in people even more so. And…the haunting aspect scared everyone else off.”

  “Well, it’s getting late, and I have no interest in going back there in the dark of the night again. You guys up to going over tomorrow and finishing up so we can give her the green light?”

  The Crooked Cottage Tells All

  Kent, UK

  October 2017

  The three of them met in the lobby of the inn just before noon the next morning. Alice hoped she did not look as worn-out and sad as both Ted and Josh did that morning, but she was pretty sure she did. The revelation of their childhood and their devious and scheming aunt had hit them all hard. They had been so happy and contented in the cottage with her, but now that it had all been found to be a lie…well, it was a lot to absorb in a short period of time. They had just a quick coffee in the pub and then walked slowly back to the cottage to make it presentable for the agent who had been willing to take it on for them. They arrived back at the property and moved single file through the narrow passageway that had been cut out by the locals from the large tree trunks that had been previously blocking the grassy lane during the storm.

  They stood and stared at the house, its eccentric off-center alignment, its barren courtyard with the eerie collection of statues of children, and revisited all their memories of having lived there, even if for just a brief moment in time. Alice knew it was not the cottage itself that was wrong, just what her aunt had done there that was casting a pall over the property. But at the same time, she was feeling a bit queasy and uncertain about going back inside, even in daylight, after her encounter with the Pixie-thing in the attic.

  “Everyone ready?” she asked.

  “Not really…” Ted replied.

  “Me neither,” Alice said, “but I guess we have no choice. Let’s make it quick.”

  They all looked at one another and exhaled as a group and headed for the front door. Josh ascended the stairs to retrieve the trumpet case. He wanted to hang onto the instrument for old-times sake, but had no intention of having the creepy case within miles of him. Likewise, Ted went down to the cellar to discard the very disturbing sketches that still adorned the walls of his former studio. Like Josh, he had hoped to retain some of his actual drawings for a memento, but as of yet, he had not found even one of his old works to take back to London. With them off on these chores, Alice went back to the kitchen in hopes of conquering the demons she had over that room once and for all. No sooner had the three of them separated, then the skies went dark as night, and a new storm arose.

  The day had been utterly clear and calm when they had set off from the inn, so to Alice, this seemed impossible. It was way too dark for the time of day, and she had a bad feeling in her chest as the thunder and lightning started up once again. She ran to the living area as the front door, which they had left purposely ajar, slammed shut rattling the cottage. She went to try and pry it open, but even before she arrived, she knew in her gut that it was going to be stuck. Unfortunately, her fears were confirmed. Simultaneously, she heard cries of help from the cellar, and she tore from the front door and shot down the stairs. There she found Ted struggling to get out from under a pile of bricks that had collapsed on him as he bunched the hideous and sickening sketches under one arm. Ted didn’t feel like he had broken any bones, but he would surely be bruised and feel sore at a later time.

  She tossed aside the layer of masonry that was on his chest and shoulders and with his help managed to pull him free of the debris. Despite their opinion that the cottage was not evil, there definitely seemed to be some presence or force here that was either trying to get their attention or possibly even worse. They flew back up to the kitchen to find Josh at the bottom of the stairs in the foyer, his trumpet under one arm and a seriously mangled ankle as he was in a heap at the bottom of the staircase. Looking back up, they saw that several of the stairs had mysteriously given way under his weight, even though there had been no indication of any structural weaknesses before.

  Ted got under Josh and was helping him up and toward the door, when Alice redirected them back through the kitchen to the rear exit knowing the front door was jammed. Josh hobbled along unde
r Ted’s support, and Alice went back to the front door to give it one more try, but it was no use. It was like it was sealed for good. She was about to turn and head back through the cottage and join her brothers, when she happened to glance out the narrow window next to the front door. In one elongated flash of lightning, she spotted the Pixie-thing standing in the muck and mire of the courtyard among the statues just pointing adamantly at the ground. Alice was not sure she was really seeing this, so she looked again, and sure enough, in the next flash of lightning, there was the little girl again.

  That was all that Alice needed at the moment to force her out of the cottage for good. She dashed from the living area and through the kitchen, not even giving another thought to her demons there, as she joined Ted and Josh in a small garden shed that Cecilia had in the back just off the cliffs overlooking the sea. Once the three of them took shelter in the shed, the storm went silent as if a switch had been thrown to put it to rest. The black clouds lifted, and the sunlight of the morning returned, as if the whole squall had been just a dream or possibly a hallucination. However, the drenched ground let them know immediately that it had been no dream. Though very twisted, they discovered that Josh’s ankle was just a sprain and he used an old staff in the shed to support himself as they exited the shed to try and understand what had just happened to them.

  Alice related what she had seen in the courtyard and that she was sure the Pixie-thing was trying to tell them something.

  “Like what?” Ted asked.

  “Not really sure myself,” Alice replied, “but she was unwavering in her gesture toward the ground around those creepy statues.”

  “Your best guess?” Josh asked as he sat heavily on the back steps of the cottage.

  “You won’t think I am crazy?” Alice asked.

  “At this point?” Ted interjected. “Hardly…”

  “Well…Cecilia seems to have been a very disturbed woman. My best guess is something, or someone is buried in that courtyard that may make as much sense as can be expected…all things considered.”

  “Are you saying…” Josh began

  “You still remember how to use a shovel, right, Ted?” she asked.

  ……….

  Josh limped along as Alice and Ted began to poke into the sloppy goo where Alice had seen Pixie pointing. It was not long before they hit what no longer seemed like just mud and rocks. Ted dropped his shovel and knelt down to push away some of the sodden ground where they had been digging. In just a few inches, he discovered a human limb attached to a body that had been wrapped hastily and sloppily in an old bed sheet. A fierce wave of nausea passed through him, and he turned to the side so as not to vomit into the hole they had begun. He recovered quickly and wiped his mouth.

  “Better call the police, Alice…” he said as he sucked in fresh air. “I think your Pixie has led us to something over our heads…”

  The police and some emergency personnel arrived shortly and finished the exhumation of the crude grave in the courtyard revealing the body of an adult female. With their curiosity piqued and not wanting to stop so soon, they dug out a larger perimeter, and in addition to the one body, the remains of several children were also unearthed. The adult female turned out to be their mum. The three of them, though devastated at the discovery, made an initial identification of her which was later confirmed by dental records. There was enough evidence, though mostly circumstantial, that Cecilia had killed their mum as well as the children and had buried them in the courtyard.

  “Guess this answers the great mystery of why nothing ever grew here once Cecilia took over the cottage,” Josh said as he moved himself along with his crutches.

  “What about the children?” Alice asked.

  “No idea,” Ted replied, “but it is a really macabre and disgusting thing, those statues over the burial site, huh?”

  Alice and Josh nodded in silence as they continued the progression to the cemetery to complete the memorial service for their mum. Only a few other locals had come to pay their respects, some out of sympathy for Alice and her brothers once the story broke and some just out of voyeurism and curiosity. The service was simple and brief and Ted and Josh headed back down off the grassy knoll to head into Whitby while Alice stayed a few more minutes to say her final goodbyes. Finally, she wiped away her last tears and sighed with resignation as she turned to leave as well. However, in the fading light of the afternoon, she glanced up by a trio of trees that framed the bottom of the knoll as this vague and indistinct form stood under the bare limbs.

  She gasped at first, but then relaxed as she was sure little Pixie had put in a final appearance just to let her know she was glad all had been resolved, even though it had been an emotional and disturbing revelation for them. She waved at Alice who raised her own hand in a reflexive response as Pixie smiled weakly and then just vanished into a cloud of mist. However, just as the apparition was waving, just before it disappeared from Alice’s view, it dawned on Alice. The ghost had not been her friend, Pixie, from her childhood. The face and other features were familiar, but it was not Pixie. She thought back to the few photo albums that they had saved from their childhood, and though she could not be absolutely sure until she went through them again, Alice had a pretty good feeling that the ghost of the little girl was her mum. Her mum as a child who had come to help them put his whole nightmare to rest at long last.

  She said nothing of the incident to either Ted or Josh as they all boarded the train to head back south to their lives. Certainly, Josh did not need this type of thing to add onto his already overburdened progress back to sobriety, and as for Ted, she saw no reason to tell the tale. His return to a more compassionate and caring person was pleasing to Alice, and she just thought it better to leave well enough alone. As for herself? It was still painful and haunting to consider what Cecilia had been driven to and how they had lost a mother that truly loved them and would have done anything for them, but it was what it was. She would adjust and move ahead. It would be a long journey and a rough slog, but she knew in time she would come out on top. Now that all had been resolved, the only question she still had was whether or not her mum would visit her again. Alice certainly hoped so. She had so much she wanted to ask her…

  The Haunting of Bonner Springs

  By Riley Amitrani

  Prologue

  Bonner Springs, Kansas

  September 1955

  Even in the mid-1950s, in the midst of the economic and social expansion and wealth of what became known as the “baby boom,” following the pain and loss suffered from World War II, Bonner Springs seemed to lag behind. It was not that the small town in the northeast corner of Kansas was backward or haggard as was the case in many parts of the country as small to mid-size locales struggled to find a new identity as America began to thrive. Rather, Bonner Springs was just isolated and quite frankly, even by the residents own admission, content on easing into the new times of growth and prosperity. It was still primarily an agricultural economy, which was not unusual for its geographic location, but as other surrounding towns took on other business interests when they became available, Bonner Springs just sort of shrugged and collectively said, “no thanks.”

  It was not a local government decision to decline the opportunities per se, although the officials there were the ones to make those decisions in the end. The small size and close-knit nature of Bonner Springs just permeated the handful of officials in charge and without any sort of referendums or vote or even an unofficial survey. They knew the feeling of their constituents and politely declined, letting Bonner Springs go on as it had for generations. Not that they were stuck in time exactly, as established farming enterprises did expand as occasional new enterprises sprung up. About the only truly non-agricultural business to arrive in Bonner Springs in the post-war years was a short spur of Cimarron Valley Railroad that served primarily to allow the farmers a more efficient and less costly means of getting their crops to major markets in the Midwest and beyond.

&n
bsp; Bonner Springs itself as a town remained much as it had for as long as anyone who had lived there any length of time could remember. The town proper was just one solitary main thoroughfare, of course, called Main Street, which contained just a few ordinary and expected small ancillary businesses you might expect from any small farm-based town in those days. There was Annie’s Café, the central attraction of Bonner Springs that kept its name despite no longer being run by Annie McCullough. The McCullough family still operated the small but thriving eatery which was a major focus of early-morning gossip, political debates, and concerns over the current growing season. Terry McCullough was the current owner, the great-granddaughter of its founder and who out of respect and admiration refused to change the cafe’s label. It was with great pride that Terry did so, realizing that as unusual as it was for a woman to have her own business in 1955, it had been unheard of for this to have happened at the turn of the century.

  It might have been expected for the chauvinistic climate of the times to shun such a thing, but all of the farmers in Bonner Springs were so impressed with what Terry had to offer, that they soon became regulars and it never occurred to any of them that an issue should be made of a woman running her own business. In addition to the café, there was a post office, a combination hardware-clothing-farm supply store called…wait for it…The Bonner Springs General Store, and a gas station. And in 1955, that was it. Groceries, other than the sparse offering at The General Store, had to be obtained in either Lawrence or Topeka, but no one ever seemed to complain about the drive. Despite their small-town rural roots, most residents of Bonner Springs also seemed to revel in a trip to the university setting of Lawrence as well as a night out over in Topeka or even Kansas City.