Thriller: Horror: The Cottage (Mystery Suspense Thrillers) (Haunted Paranormal Short Story)

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Thriller: Horror: The Cottage (Mystery Suspense Thrillers) (Haunted Paranormal Short Story) Page 20

by Stephen Kingston


  “I am going to take her up to bed, Betty. I think she needs a rest. Will you be alright? I know that was a very tough story to share.” Wes looked at me with sympathy but I could see he wanted to take care of his wife.

  “You take care of my baby, Wes. I am going to have a bath and go to sleep myself. That took a lot out of me.” I sighed once more as they left, Clara held close to her husband, and then went into the bathroom. My poor child was devastated.

  I had done my best to provide Clara with a wonderful life, to guide her into the right decisions, and to help ease her way. Now I had torn all of that down and my heart ached. I could not fix this.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Clara…Clara wake up, something is wrong with your mother.” Wes shook me awake gently before he got out of bed. I threw on a robe and followed him down.

  I could hear heavy objects being thrown against the walls as my mother wailed from her bedroom below us. I ran down the stairs, my heart already pounding, wondering what the heck was going on in her room.

  I opened the door and stood back as a wind blew through the window so powerful it almost knocked me off my feet.

  “Clara!” I heard Wes call out as I stumbled.

  I stumbled but picked myself up, clawing my way to where my mother huddled in a corner, her hands over her head as she screamed.

  Mom tore at my face as I tried to pull her out of the destroyed room, furniture broken and lamps busted all around us. She fought against me hard, her screams never stopping as I tried to get her to come out with me. Finally, I gave up and called out to Wes over the roar of the wind.

  “Get her out of here and I will get this window shut. When did this storm blow up?” I hunched over to force my way into the wind and almost fell flat on my face as the wind suddenly stopped.

  I looked up to see that I was alone and the window was closed. I stood in the devastation of my mother’s bedroom and gaped at the window. It was shut, the scene outside calm and subdued. Where had that wind come from then?

  I blanked the incident out as I ran out of the room once more. Wes had Momma in the hallway and was trying to keep her calm. She had clawed three long scratches down his face and his arms were covered in welts from her nails. I ran to the phone and dialed 999.

  When they arrived we had to answer questions about what happened. Had anyone been abusing my mother? What happened in her room?

  “I do not know what happened. I have to assume she did it all herself. Our girls are at a slumber party and we were asleep upstairs. My mother has Alzheimer’s, apparently these things can happen.” I watched as realization dawned on the paramedic and went upstairs to dress to follow Mom to the hospital.

  I stayed with her until they decided to admit her, every time the medicines would wear off she would start screaming, then Wes made me go home with him. Wes took me home and made me a cup of hot cocoa before we went to bed. I cupped the hot ceramic cup in my hands, cold despite the summer heat outside.

  “What was she screaming, Wes? I could not make it all out.” I looked over at him and saw my own exhaustion reflected in his face.

  “I am not sure. It was something about the Lurking Man and how he wanted her girl now.”

  “She did not say the Lurking Spectre?” I asked, wondering if she had become confused.

  “Yes, maybe she has incorporated the girls’ imaginary friend into this Lurking Spectre?” Wes wondered aloud.

  “Perhaps so. There are parts of that story she told I am not sure about. Maybe some of it was her Alzheimer’s?”

  “I do not know Clara. There are certainly things in her story that can’t be explained but I think she thought she was telling the truth. And no matter what, there has to be proof about this man, Travis Brown, somewhere. I do not think she made any of that up.”

  I wondered how we’d gotten here, wondering if my mother was imagining things and making up stories at four in the morning with a destroyed bedroom to clean up.

  “I know one thing, Clara. She can’t be around the girls like that. I love your mother and I know it is not her that is causing her to act that way but the girls can’t be around that.” He would not look at me as he spoke and my anger and hurt started to rise.

  “She is my mother, Wes! Of course she will stay here!”

  “No, I will not have it!”

  “Wes, that is my mother. She is not just some woman off the street. She endured decades of misery for me! I will not put her in a home!” I slammed my hand on the table as he stood, ready to walk away.

  “All I know is our girls do not deserve to be exposed to that level of violence and terror. I simply will not have it.” Wes picked up his own cup and walked away.

  I could not believe it! Our first real argument and he walked away! I could not leave my mother in a home. I simply could not. It was unimaginable. Wes would see, she would be fine tomorrow. Then feel silly for all but throwing her out. He would see.

  * * *

  I woke up the next morning and could finally see there was some sense to what Adam had said. The girls did not deserve to see their grandmother like that and it would do them harm to wake up to things like that every night. I felt like a failure but I knew my girls came first.

  I went to the bathroom, started down the stairs, but then came to a stop. Something was wrong down on the first floor. There was shiny stuff all over and I could hear noise outside. We had specially treated windows that blocked out cold air and all but sealed us off from sounds from the outside. I could hear the birds singing.

  I took another step and looked down at the carpet on the stairs. The shiny substance was on it too. I looked around and saw that the substance was glass. Looking up I saw the picture over the stairway was uncovered with no glass protecting the portrait inside. The tiny shiny particles all over the floor was glass!

  I went through the entire lower floor and found that anything glass in the house, even the screens on our phones, had been pounded into a fine dust.

  “Wes!” I call out loudly and shrilly. I had planned to make him a cup of coffee and wake him up in bed but this was just creepy.

  I looked around the house as I continued to call out for him and finally came to my mother’s room. I found an explanation there on the walls.

  Scrawled in large red letters, some liquid of some kind because the letters dripped down the walls, were the words that made my heart stop as Wes finally came rushing down the stairs.

  “She stays or you all die.”

  “Wes!” I screamed once more, my body telling me to flee as I stood rooted to the floor, too afraid to move.

  “Come on, out of here, let’s go!” Wes pulled me out of the bedroom and we threw on some clothes from the laundry room before we headed outside.

  We sat on the bench in the backyard staring at the house for several long minutes. My heart had finally started to stop racing when Wes cleared his throat.

  “Well then. Did you hear anything?” Wes asked, his voice shaking.

  “Not a thing.” I replied, my own tone monotone.

  “I guess that is some pretty definite proof. Your Mom was definitely telling the truth.”

  “I think she was. What has she been living with all of these years?”

  “I am not sure myself. I do not know what this is. I do know we can’t allow the girls to come home with this mess.” Wes picked up his phone and looked at the empty hole where the screen should be. “I will go get new phones shall I?”

  “You are not leaving me here alone with that!” I cried out, taking off for the car. “I am going with you!”

  We both picked up new phones, filing claims with the insurance company, and then went to pick up wood and a shop vac. The insurance company for the house was arranging replacement windows and sending over an agent to assess the damage. We called the girls with our new phones then arranged with the girl’s Mom to have them stay another night. Then we went home and started the cleanup process.

  It took several hours and I am not sure
all of the glass was gone but we had every bit of it we could see vacuumed up. We had to throw out any cloth, rugs, and anything else with fibers because it all held the glass even after vacuuming. The glass had been crushed that finely. This was a devastating blow to us and if we could not get the insurance company to pay, our savings account was going to be decimated. Even the curtains had to go. Luckily the second floor of the house was unharmed so those rooms were fine.

  Cleaning up the mess in the kitchen was hardest. Even the fridge took a beating as the glass within it was pulverized and liquid went everywhere. We had to turn off the power to dig the lightbulbs housing out of the sockets and the pile outside grew higher as we took out the shattered television and some other appliances. We’d try to have the laptops repaired because of the data on them but the rest just went into a pile outside. Wes put a sign on it that told anyone thinking of picking it up to beware because it was full of glass.

  Finally, at five in the afternoon the house was cleared up. We only had the kitchen chairs to sit on downstairs so we sat in the kitchen, looking at each other.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked my husband, wanting only to settle in his arms and forget the world existed.

  “I do not know. I really do not. Shall I go out for pizza? I can get one more piece of wood to finish off that picture window in the living room.” Wes asked, knowing pizza was my favorite comfort food.

  “Sure. I hope whatever caused all of this had its little hissy fit and is done now. It should be fine. Besides, there's no glass in the house to be a danger is there? Even the glass in the doors is gone.” I said with a sad laugh as I looked at the antique doors with boards secured over them. Wes had done that while I did most of the vacuuming.

  “Alright, I will not be long. I will pick up a six-pack on the way home.” Wes said with a grin, trying to make me smile.

  “Thank you babe. Be careful.” I kissed him goodbye and went into the living room, watching him go. I did not like being alone here but I was not going to be frightened out of my own home.

  I walked out of the room, going into the kitchen to pull out the plastic plates we kept for the girls to use when we ate outside. They were the only plates we had left in the house now. I had had to wash everything in the cabinets to get off the glass powder from those as well. I do not think exhausted quite covered how we both felt now.

  I was turning back to the table when I caught something tall and black out of the corner of my eye. I was about to scream when my feet flew out from under me and my head bounced off the floor. As the world went dark, I saw a black shape, almost rounded like a head, peering down into my face. I blinked once more then the world went dark.

  When I woke up my body was sore and my head felt as if it was tearing from my shoulders. I figured out the pain was because my head was hanging down over my body as I slowly came back to reality. It took a moment or two longer to realize that my head was hanging over my body because I was tied to a chair. That is when the fear started.

  The chair spun in a sickening circle for a moment, the rotation so fast I felt as though gravity was steadily pushing me down into the chair. It finally flew back into the wall, the blow making my head spin even more as the air left my body. When the chair started to rise up the wall in a slow crawl, I started to scream. I hung there; looking around at nothing as a force lowered me then lifted me back up again. I was terrified the force would drop me from the 12 foot height of the ceiling, a landing that would surely do some damage if not kill me.

  “Wes!” I screamed out, not for the first time that day.

  I heard no voice but I heard footsteps pounding in through the front door and then Wes was there, staring up at me as the chair lowered to the floor once more. Wes pulled a pocketknife out and began to cut me loose, not saying anything as he took in the fact that my clothes were gone. I only had my underwear and bra on. Even my socks had disappeared!

  “Let’s go, leave it Clara, nobody cares if you are naked, let’s go!” Wes pulled at me as I tried to grab at my shirt on the floor.

  He pulled at my hand, not letting up, and I ran for the door with him. I saw the scattered bottles of beer, the pizza out of the box and forgotten on the ground, as we ran for the door. All I could hear was his voice urging me to run.

  We slammed into the door as it closed in front of us, the handle refusing to budge as Wes slammed at the door with his fist and rattled at the door handle.

  Wes grabbed me, pulling me back into the living room. He kicked at the board there, three inches of light still visible through the bare spot. I looked around as he kicked at the door, terror stealing my voice. Where was it? Where was the monster?

  Then our feet flew out from under us and we were thrown back against the wall. My broken laptop slid over the floor, scratching the bare wood, before it landed in my lap. The empty screen, no glass or pixels to produce light available, still somehow produced words.

  “You are my child. You cannot leave.”

  I looked over at my husband as the words appeared.

  “I have your daughters, my grandchildren. None of you can escape.”

  “No!” The word came out shrill and long as I fought to escape the invisible force holding me to the wall.

  Wes went still as he felt his phone vibrate and begin to ring. He pulled it from his pocket and saw the text message asking if we had the girls before both devices we had flew from our grips and our entire bodies were forced up along the wall and we hung there, pinned to the wall with no way to break free. This monster had my babies and I could not save them!

  Chapter Twelve

  I woke up from the drug haze of the medicine the doctors had given me and knew there was something wrong. My mind was clear; I had none of the fuzziness that sometimes hampered my days now, and an overwhelming urge to go to Clara. I knew it would take hours to be discharged so I waited for the nurses to pass before gathering up my clothes and dressing. I saw Clara had left my handbag and wallet and knew I could get a taxi to her house. I am sure she would not want Grams busting out of the joint so I did not tell anyone I was leaving.

  I waited until the nurses were busy with other patients then quietly slipped out of the door, my shoes quiet on my feet. I went straight for the elevator and out of the hospital when the elevator descended down to the ground floor. I headed for the taxi rank outside and climbed in the first car available, directing the man to Clara’s house.

  I could feel a sense of urgency, a cloying worry that almost smothered me as the time passed. Something was wrong with my baby; I had to get to her. I wanted to urge the driver to speed but knew he would not. I sat in the back, trying to calm myself, trying to tell myself she was fine but could not. My nerves were on the edge of snapping when a car pulled out in front of us and slowed down.

  * * *

  Back at the house, Wes and Clara struggled, trying to find a spot where they could both break free. They stopped as the laptop floated into the air, coming to rest where they could both see it. More words appeared and the pair looked at each other confused.

  “She comes. She is mine now!”

  “Who is coming?” Wes asked Clara.

  “I have no idea. Let’s hope they bring a cavalry of exorcists with them.” Clara’s response was tired and Wes knew she wasn’t going to be able to fight much more. Wes wanted to pray but in that moment, he could not think of the words. All he could think was “please help” as he hung helplessly next to his wife.

  Betty walked up to the porch, the house dark and covered in boards. She was almost afraid this was the wrong house but she could see Wes and Clara’s cars outside. She knew this was their house, but she also knew something had gone horribly wrong. Betty turned the doorknob and walked into the silent, dark house.

  “Hello?” She called out as she walked into the living room.

  “We are here Mom! Help, do something, please!” Clara called out. At every part of her life when she had needed Betty her mother had been there. Seeing her mother w
alking into the living room was not a surprise now.

  Betty rushed over to her daughter but could see nothing holding her up so high from the floor. Clara and Wes must have been six feet in the air. The Lurking Spectre was here somewhere, she knew it. How would she get them down though?

  Betty heard Clara and Wes gasp and she turned around to see her old nemesis. Shadow Man, Lurking Spectre, whatever you wanted to call it, this mass of darkness, blacker than black, was the remaining soul of Travis Brown and she knew it. Whether the shape was wearing a fedora or not this was Travis Brown’s black soul come to life.

  Betty gasped and took a step back but the shadow followed her. There were no real features to the being, just shapes. No more than you’d see in a shadow, the black darkness that haunts the corner of our eyes that we can never quite focus on, no matter how fast we turn our heads. This is what the raping murderer was now.

  “Ah Betty. At last, you are mine. And you have brought our daughter!” A voice came from the shadows, sibilant and dry, the voice made Betty shiver. It was his voice, though changed. She would know that sound anywhere.

  “She isn’t your daughter! She is mine!” Betty protested but the shadow only laughed.

  “I have come for you, for now, Betty. The children can remain until it is their time, but for now, I want only you. I have wanted you for so long. I used to send my shadow out to follow you. I know you knew and I enjoyed your fear. Almost as much as I loved touching your skin and tasting you! Almost.” The shadow reached out to touch her skin and Betty cringed away once more.

  “Ah Betty. I only want to play with you as I once played with you in the hospital. Those were such fun times. I would laugh, you would scream. We would all have a good time. You are old now in this realm but in my world you will be young forever and you will be mine. Imagine it, an eternity of dancing with you, of having you. I am sure you are pleased. Come now dear, it is your time; I can feel your heart giving up the will to live. Let go, Betty, be mine.” The voice spoke to her but Betty did not want to listen.

 

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