Haunting and Scares Collection

by Rosemary Cullen

  It turned out a lot of her furniture simply didn’t seem to belong in the great house and it would have to go. Though as much as she hated the idea of throwing the stuff out, it did seem to bring some relief from the memories of the past that constantly haunt her.

  This really means a new start, she thought as she started a pile of things to donate and things to sell.

  At thirty-two, Millie had never expected to find herself on her own. Millie had always felt lucky. She’d found her soulmate young. She hadn’t had to wade through unhappy online dating sites or spend years trying to find someone else who loved mushrooms and pineapple on pizza.

  Nathan had been a perfect mate from the beginning and they had made so many grand plans while they were dating and then after they were married. It made her sad to think about all the things that wouldn’t get done.

  She owed it to her late husband and to herself to try and make some of their dreams come true. Millie was sure this house was a start at that goal. A happy place where she could mourn at times and eventually be happy and settled until she was ready to move on.

  Millie hated to admit it, but the worst part of losing Nathan and Andrew was constantly being alone. Before her husband’s death, she never would have called herself clingy. Sure, she and Nathan loved spending time together. But Millie had also enjoyed her career – and sometimes a few days without seeing Nathan just injected the spark back into their relationship.

  But now, she hated being alone.

  I’m going to work on that, Millie decided. I’m going to start spending time with myself – really taking care of myself – and make something scary into something positive.

  That night, Millie was exhausted. She yawned as she climbed into bed. Her eyelids felt as heavy as concrete, and as she turned off the light, she felt a warm sleepiness spread through her body.

  This is a nice bed, Millie thought as she pulled the blanket tightly around her body. I have a feeling this place is really going to relax me.

  Just as Millie was drifting off to sleep, she heard a noise.

  It’s nothing, Millie told herself, rolling onto her side and putting her hand under the pillow. It’s just the old house creaking and groaning with the wind.

  But the wind outside quieted, and the sound became louder. It was shrill and persistent. Millie couldn’t think of why it bothered her, until a cold bolt of realization slid down her spine.

  Why, it’s almost… human, Millie thought. It sounds just like Andrew when he was upset at night. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest and she began to pull one of the down pillows over her head and squeeze it tightly to block out the sounds.

  She had had nightmares for a bit right after their deaths but never had she felt or heard something so real. The shrill cry came again.

  “An..an..andrew?”

  Millie sat up in bed and blinked. She turned on the bedside lamp, filling the room with light. Frowning, she pulled her robe around her body and climbed out of bed.

  The sound seemed to disappear into the background as soon as the light came on. She knew there was no way it was Andrew. New nights in a new place far from home will make people hear strange things.

  “Hello?” Millie asked nervously. She crept into the dark hallway, half expecting to hear nothing but as soon as the word left her mouth the sound was more distinct than ever.

  It no longer sounded like an infant. It sounded like her crying. The type of sobbing that leaves you breathless. People couldn’t console her during the funeral or the weeks after their deaths. It was if she was listening to her own tortured, heartbroken sobs.

  The echoing of the cries Millie with distress. She shuddered as she paced down the carpet, remembering how the first few days after the car accident had felt. Millie had cried so hard that she’d vomited. She’d lost twenty pounds in just two weeks.

  As Millie walked down the hall, the sobs grew louder and louder until it seemed like they were coming from all directions. Frowning, Millie opened the door to the attic.

  “It’s probably a bird, or something,” Millie told herself as she began climbing the stairs. “I probably left the flue open earlier and now some bat got stuck in the chimney.”

  But the sobs didn’t sound like a bird, or even a bat. They were human, and tinged with such palpable sadness that the hair was standing up on the back of Millie’s neck by the time she reached the attic.

  “Hello?” Millie asked, her voice hanging in the soft dark air. “Is there someone there?”

  Suddenly, the sobs vanished. Millie stood silently for a few moments, listening to the thudding of her heart. I’m so silly, she thought, brushing her sweaty hands off on her robe. It was just some bird, and now it’s probably gotten free.

  Slam!

  Millie jumped a foot in the air and screamed, covering her hand with her mouth. Her heart was thudding so hard that it felt like it would beat right out of her chest, and she took a deep, shuddering breath of stale attic air.

  It was just the door, Millie realized. She frowned and practically ran down the attic steps. For a moment, an irrational thought wedged itself in her mind: what if this house is haunted? What is something trapped me in the attic, and I can’t get out?

  Millie’s fingers were shaking as she reached for the doorknob. When it turned easily in her hand, she gasped with relief. Millie quickly darted down the hall and climbed back into bed.

  It was just the wind, Millie told herself as she settled back in her nest of pillows. I must have left a window open, and it made the door slam. That’s all. Nothing to worry about.

  That night, Millie didn’t turn off the lamp.

  Chapter Three – The Darkness

  In the morning, Millie couldn’t believe how she’d acted.

  “I was so silly,” she muttered to herself as she pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. “I’m sure it was nothing!”

  Millie made a leisurely breakfast of sausage and eggs for herself before sitting at the table with a book. It was another beautiful day outside – Millie was surprised to see so much of the sun – and she decided to take a break from unpacking, at least for a while. She was exhausted from sleeping poorly, and her joints ached from unpacking boxes and hauling heavy wooden furniture about Westbridge Mansion.

  Millie drew a bath for herself. When she realized one of the pipes was leaking in the master bathroom, she frowned. Abandoning her plans to bathe, she called a plumber in the village and asked him to come out and take a look. Millie still felt dazed from her weird experience the night before, and she was barely paying attention as she scribbled down the date and time in the back of her novel.

  Perhaps I should spent some time outside, Millie thought. She’d looked over the gardens briefly with Linda, when she’d first come to Westbridge Mansion. But now she realized that they were much more extensive than she’d first thought – there was a series of small lawns, connected with interlocking (and very overgrown) hedges. There was even a small marble fountain in the main lawn. The basin was filled with moldy water, but Millie had no trouble imagining how beautiful it would be once cleaned and repaired.

  Eventually, Millie settled on an iron chaise lounge that had come with the mansion. She yawned and closed her eyes for a few moments, enjoying the late-summer sun. It’s going to get cold soon, she thought as she stretched. I won’t be able to sit outside. I should really enjoy this weather while it’s still here.

  Millie felt drowsy and content as she opened her book. She was rereading one of her favorites – a novel set in Arthurian times. The story felt like an old friend, and the weight of the book kept Millie conscious. She had just turned onto a particularly exciting chapter when she heard the phone ring from the inside of the house.

  “Darn,” Millie mumbled. She set the book down on the chaise lounge, keeping her place and spreading the pages. Then she dashed quickly inside and picked up the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Millie, it’s Linda,” Linda said. “I was wondering how you’r
e getting along in that big new house of yours.”

  Millie laughed.

  “I’m doing well,” she said. For a moment, she almost told Linda about the strange events of the previous evening. But something inside her felt embarrassed for having reacted as she had. She’s going to think I’m really crazy if I tell her, Millie realized. I’d better not say anything.

  “Are you sure? You sound kind tired,” Linda said.

  “Ah, yeah, I’m fine,” Millie replied. She stifled a yawn. “You know – just exhausted from moving things around. I’m actually going to sell most of the stuff I had shipped over here – you think you could give me a hand with driving it into London?”

  “Yeah, definitely. Look, Millie, I was calling to ask about next week. How do you feel about doing dinner?”

  “I just booked someone to come and fix the pipes in the master bath,” Millie said. “Drat, I left the note outside. Can you hang on a second?”

  “No problem.”

  Millie left the phone on the kitchen counter as she ran outside towards the chaise. When she got there, her book was nowhere in sight.

  “That’s weird,” Millie said to herself. “I swear, I left it right here.” She put her hands on her hips, glancing around the yard in hopes of the large paperback. Goose bumps appeared on Millie’s arms as she knelt down and peeked under the heavy chaise. The book was substantial – over five hundred pages – and Millie knew that it wouldn’t have blown away… besides, there was no breeze!

  “I must be losing my mind,” Millie said. Frowning, she brushed her hands off on her jeans and ran back inside.

  “Hey, Linda?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. What took you so long? Getting lost in that big house?” Linda teased with a laugh.

  Millie bit her lip.

  “Nothing,” she lied. “Look – I actually can’t find what I wrote down, but I’ll just call the plumber and then call you back, okay?”

  “Millie, are you going senile?” Linda joked. “Thirty-two is awfully young for dementia.”

  Millie didn’t laugh.

  “You know, it sounds dumb – but when you called, I ran inside and left my book in the yard.”

  “So?”

  “Well, I wrote down the plumbing appointment on the last page. And now I can’t find it,” Millie said in clear exasperation.

  “It probably blew under your chair,” Linda said.

  Millie rolled her eyes in frustration.

  “I looked there,” she said.

  “So? There are animals around there – I bet something wild got it.”

  “Linda, it’s the middle of the day!”

  Linda laughed.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Look, Mil – you’re tired from just moving in and getting everything taken care of. You probably just set it down somewhere and forgot. I’m sure it’ll turn up. Call me later, okay?”

  There was a deep crease in Millie’s forehead.

  Sure,” she said. “Bye.”

  After the two hung up, Millie spent a solid hour combing through the gardens, looking for the tattered shreds of her book. It was probably a fox, she thought. Yeah, I bet they have foxes around here – that seems like something that was probably looking for trouble. It’s just like the raccoons back home.

  The sun began to fade in the sky and Millie was reluctant to admit defeat. But the air was turning chill, and her stomach was rumbling with hunger, so eventually she flicked on the outdoor floor lights and went inside.

  Millie pulled apart a rotisserie chicken and made a quick paella. But when the food was ready, she found that she couldn’t relax. She sat at the table and poked at her food, wishing that she could have found her book. Instead of eating, she sipped at one, then two generous glasses of wine.

  Soon, Millie found that her eyelids were heavy. Linda was right, she thought sleepily as she put the rest of the wine in the refrigerator and turned out the kitchen lights. I’m just exhausted…and she doesn’t even know what happened the night before!

  Millie washed her face and pulled on her pajamas before getting in bed. She was so tired that she turned out the light and pulled the blanket over her body. Soon, she was in a heady, peaceful state of half-sleep.

  Suddenly, Millie’s eyes bolted open. She sat up in bed and a chill ran down her spine. The sound of the crying was back, and it was louder than ever.

  “I’m warning you,” Millie said sternly as she pulled on her robe. “If you’re a bird, I’m going to be pretty damn mad when I find you in the chimney!” She opened her bedroom door and padded down the hall, her slippers barely making a sound against the thick carpet.

  The crying grew louder and more desperate. Just listening to it made Millie’s heart ache with sadness. She tried to convince herself that it was just a wild animal, or perhaps a drafty part of the house, but no amount of reason could make her feel that the sobs were anything but human.

  Millie stood at the foot of the attic stairs, paralyzed with fear. The hysterical crying seemed to fill the space all around her, crowding her head with sadness and jagged pain. She took a deep breath as she wrapped her fingers around the attic doorknob and slowly climbed the stairs.

  Millie closed her eyes and stood in the center of the room. She trembled with fear – somehow, the crying sounds were even louder than they had been the previous night. Soon it’ll stop, Millie realized. And then a gust of wind will blow the attic door closed.

  The crying didn’t stop. It grew louder and more desperate, until Millie’s ears were filled with choked sobs and guttural moans of anguish. Fear raced through her veins and she shivered.

  “Please, stop!” Millie said. “Please, house! I don’t know what to do! I don’t know what—“

  Millie gasped and coughed as the air rushed out of her lungs. She opened her mouth wide and tried to breathe in, desperately trying to suck air back into her lungs. Her nose felt as if it was squeezed shut by a strong pair of fingers. Millie began to grow faint and dizzy. She gasped and choked, opening her mouth like a fish out of water as she sucked for air. Hot alarm rushed through Millie’s body and she shivered as tears of pain and fear came to her eyes.

  “Please,” Millie croaked. “Please, let me breathe!”

  Suddenly, a cold gust of air rushed into Millie’s lungs. The stabbing pains in her chest faded and tears of relief streamed down her face as she greedily sucked in air. Millie fell to her knees before curling up in a ball. Her heart was beating a frantic tattoo and she was more frightened than she had ever been in her entire life.

  The crying had stopped, leaving Millie trapped in an eerie silence. She was shaking with fear as she climbed to her feet and ran down the attic steps. I don’t know what’s happening, Millie thought in terror as she locked herself in her bedroom. But something terrible is going on, right in this very house!

  Millie was so frightened that she stayed up all night, perched in the window seat and staring at the sky for the first signs of dawn’s light. She shivered and shook with fear and anxiety. Every noise, every rustle made Millie jump with terror and her heart raced so quickly that soon her chest ached with the effort of it all.

  The light of the morning didn’t make Millie feel any better. She dreaded another sleepless night in Westbridge Mansion.

  But she had no idea what to do in order to fix it.

  Chapter Four – The Tragedy of Baron FitzWalter

  Despite Millie’s fears, Westbridge Mansion seemed to be returning slowly to normal. The following day, she found her book – it was wedged firmly under the chaise lounge – and that night, she heard no crying at all. Millie was still too frightened to sleep well, but she did manage to make and eat most of a hearty meal for herself.

  Linda was right, Millie decided as she was clearing up the dishes. I was just exhausted from trying to do too much at once. I’ve really got to get a grip – this is my home now, and I’m not going to be afraid!

  The lack of activity in Westbridge Mansion didn’t make Millie feel any better. Inste
ad of calm and happiness, she felt dread and anxiety as she bustled through the house, cleaning and organizing. She tried to stay positive and remember her terrifying nighttime experiences as a dream, but nothing seemed to help.

  Maybe I need a doctor, Millie thought. Maybe this is just depression coming back…maybe it’s because of Nathan and Andrew, and how much I miss them both. But try as she did to find the reason for her discomfort in the home, nothing seemed to click. Millie drove into the village where she was analyzed by a psychiatrist. To her great distress, the doctor told her that she was probably fine.

  “It’s just bad dreams, that’s all, dear,” the elderly doctor told Millie. “Try drinking some warm milk before bed.”

  Millie looked desperately unhappy.

  “They didn’t feel like nightmares,” she said. “They felt real.”

  “Well, dear, you’re perfectly well,” the doctor replied. “Do you take your vitamins?”

  Millie frowned.

  “Can’t you give me something? Like, maybe something for my anxiety and then something for sleep?”

  The doctor laughed.

  “You Americans and your pills,” he said, shaking his head and chuckling. “I’ll make you a bet. Why don’t you try a month of no alcohol, warm milk at bedtimes, and no eating for three hours before bed? If you still can’t sleep, come back and we’ll talk about a prescription.”

  “I don’t want to wait a month,” Millie said. Tears of frustration came to her eyes and she blinked them away. “I’m sleeping horribly!”

  “Try a little exercise,” the doctor suggested. “I must dismiss you now, I’ve got a few others waiting. Pop by in a month or so if you’re still feeling unwell.”

  When Millie got home, she shredded the doctor’s guidelines. I have been getting exercise, she thought dully. And it’s not like I drink much! Two glasses of wine, at the most!

  Millie decided to spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning the east wing of Westbridge Mansion. She hadn’t spent much time there – it was mostly guest suites, old servants’ quarters, and storage rooms.