True Ghost Stories and Hauntings 1

by Simon Murik

  She said that it was all fine now, and somehow, we went to bed. I called a priest in the morning; I wanted to talk with him about what we did. He blessed the house, but I could see that he was not happy at all with our crazy way to spend time. I promised I would never do it again.

  Iswung the Jeep onto the dirt parking area and the headlights flashed over my friends Josh and Charlie in their varsity jackets standing at the trailhead. The clock said 12:17 a.m., which made me late, but if Charlie complained I’d remind him that he’d made the dare and I was missing out on Heather’s bonfire party full of beer and cheerleaders to do this. Pulling the car up to where the dirt met the grass, I killed the engine and hopped out.

  “What do you say, boys?” I asked, walking up to the two seniors.

  “What up, Zach?” Josh said, tossing me a small silver flashlight. “Just in case,” he said.

  I thought about giving it back to him but kept it. The trail would be lit up by the stars and full moon but it would still be dark—better to take it just in case.

  “OK, here’s the thing,” Josh said, looking over at the trail, “nothing weird yet tonight, but it’s the full moon so our boy should be out there.”

  I chuckled and looked at the trail head, “Our ghost boy, right?”

  “Remember, Zach, all the way to the end,” Charlie said.

  I ignored him and set my watch. I’d never run the trail and neither had Charlie or Josh.

  But we’d heard the stories.

  And going on a fake ghost hunt beat staying at home playing Xbox on a Friday night. I slid the flashlight into the pocket of my lacrosse shotrailheadrts and walked onto the trailhead. The trail had a soft blue glow from the moonlight and it looked nice and smooth with a rock wall on my left side and a thick forest on my right. It shouldn’t even be much of a run; the trail only went out about a mile and a half and then you hit a rock wall dead end—after that there was nothing else to do but come back. The story went that twelve-year-old Joey Sanders ran out there three years ago, disappeared, and now his ghost wandered the trail at night.

  People had caught glimpses of him.

  Stupid stories like this always revolved around glimpses.

  I gave Josh and Charlie a downward salute and started running.

  The trail was wide and straight at first, but after a couple hundred feet it veered to the right and then straightened out again. As far as my dares went, this one was pretty tame. I’d jumped 120 feet off Galan’s cliff into Red Water Rapids last week and somehow managed to put a little pink dress on Sammy Dyson’s pit bull without it biting my hands off a couple of weeks before that.

  But I’d never run a strange trail at midnight and that was enough to get me out here.

  The breeze picked up, and as the trail veered right, a streak of white blurred in the corner of my eye. I looked over but there was only the dark rock.

  The moonlight must have caught it funny or something.

  I sped up, causing my feet to hit the ground with quick, soft thuds. The noise echoed ahead of me down the trail.

  The funny thing was that it didn’t really sound like an echo.

  It sounded more solid, like actual foot steps.

  The trail veered left about twenty feet ahead and I slowed down a bit. The echo/footsteps stopped as I rounded the curve and then there was nothing but flat trail straight ahead again. I picked up the pace and a cold gust of wind shook the trees. The darkness ahead of me thinned out and I saw the trail dead end at the mountain.

  That was easy.

  Jogging up to the rock, I patted it with my hand and turned back around. That was it. There was nothing else and nowhere else to go.

  I turned and looked at the trail. There was no way that kid had simply died and vanished out here. He’d had to have been abducted or just run away or something.

  Scary wind noises and echoing footsteps didn’t make a ghost.

  Time to get out of here.

  I rubbed my hands together and started running back. The path was a little darker now and I ran a little faster just so I could try to make it to the bonfire. It’d been a bit of a charge to come out here, but nothing big. Those two bozos would be impressed though. Hell, if Char—

  An icy blast of wind hit me like a hard shove from behind and I stumbled forward, getting my arms in front of me just before I crashed against the ground. A throbbing pain ran through my left forearm but otherwise I felt OK. Pushing myself up I took out the flashlight but naturally saw nothing other than dark trail behind me...

  but the edge of the light did catch something—a narrow side trail almost right where I’d gotten blown over.

  I walked up to it, using my flashlight to get a better look. A dark strip of path cut straight through the trees. You’d never be able to see it unless you were looking straight at it, and even then you still might miss it. I flashed the light down the hidden trail. A set of shoe prints staggered down it towards the darkness. I squinted and made out another rock wall at the end of the trail.

  Interesting.

  I stepped on the trail and started walking. It was perfectly flat and narrow, almost like a runway. The wind whistled through the trees and I felt it again push me from behind. My heart started to beat hard and I suddenly felt light, almost like a speeding paper airplane.

  I hit a near sprint and suddenly saw that the trail dropped off in about ten feet; the rock wall was on the other side of a pitch black gulf. There was no way I could stop in time. I threw my body to the side and smacked into one of the trees. My chest felt like it’d been cracked by a baseball bat and my shoulder burned but I was alive. I pushed myself up and limped to the edge of the trail. I shined the flashlight downwards. A straight drop into some sort of dark rocky crevice.

  Someone could fall in there and no one would ever know.

  I turned around.

  The shape of a very pale, very thin boy in shorts and a tank top stood right in front of me. He placed his finger over his lips and made a shushing sound. The boy then turned around and ran down the trail. He disappeared almost as quickly as he had showed himself. It was all so brief.

  My shoulder hurt pretty bad but there was no way I was standing around there until I felt better. I jogged back to the main trail and then started running—hard. The wind whipped around me but there was no way in hell I was falling again.

  I probably did a six minute mile back to the trailhead.

  Josh and Charlie were still standing in the same spot when my foot hit the trailhead grass and I ran a few steps past them before stopping. I was breathing hard and my shoulder still hurt as I turned and walked towards them. They stared at me wide eyed as I tossed the flashlight at Danny.

  “What happened in there?” Charlie asked.

  “Go in there and find out,” I said as I turned back around and walked towards the Jeep.

  “What does that mean?” Danny asked?

  “It means no more thrill seeking for a while, boys,” I said as I hopped in the car. I started her up, backed out of the spot, and rumbled over the gravel and dirt to the narrow, dark road.

  The stars glittered over the grassy field that spread out to the north and the warm breeze soothed my aching shoulder. I checked my phone; it was only 12:45 a.m.—I could still swing by the bonfire. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw the headlights of Josh and Charlie’s cars swinging out of the parking area and the image of snowy white Joey popped back into my head.

  I turned back around and tossed the phone back on the passenger seat.

  Screw getting buzzed at the bonfire.

  A late night of Xbox was good enough for me.

  Istared at the old colonial house across the grassy valley. It was still the same eggshell color, but even from a couple hundred feet away I could see the last twenty years hadn’t been too kind to it. Decaying wood, a broken porch, and the red brick chimney had somehow been knocked in half. The house had really become an eyesore.

  Three days had gone by since I’d driven the Jeep up here
, and like clockwork her laughter had started at sunset every day and gotten fiercer into the night. But she was quiet so far today. Why? The sun had already become a big orange fireball and began to dip towards the mountains to the west.

  Maybe she was watching me stand here—waiting to see what I did.

  Or maybe she didn’t even exist.

  Maybe there was no ghost of a girl who’d hung herself in the upstairs loft of the old Wilton house. And maybe there wasn’t any crazy laughter that had haunted me as a kid, just the wind playing tricks on me just like my parents had said it was whenever I’d brought it up.

  Maybe.

  Today I was going to find out once and for all.

  Time to face the twenty-year-old fear.

  My family had moved from here when I was twelve and I hadn’t been back since. Hadn’t wanted to, hadn’t needed to. But things hadn’t gone great for me the past year. Bad divorce, bad job, and bad investments. Hell, lately I couldn’t even get myself to go to the gym.

  So I’d decided I needed to do something powerful. I needed to kill off the silly nightmare of a ghost that had taunted me as a child and nagged at my memories as an adult. I needed to know it wasn’t real.

  I looked over my shoulder at the gray brick house I’d lived in as a kid. My parents still owned it but they never came back to it after we moved. It was a total contrast to the Wilton house: big glass windows, solid brick walls, and a black, paved driveway that was as smooth as ever when I drove the Jeep up it.

  I looked back at the Wilton house, took a deep breath, and stepped forward.

  A jack rabbit hopped along the side of the valley as a quiet warm breeze caused the grass to flicker. A quiet wind and no laughter. I continued walking down into the valley; a raven landed on the grass about ten feet to my left. It stared at me and tilted its head. I stopped walking and we looked at each other. A few seconds later it flew off. I started walking again and looked up ahead.

  The old house sat patiently.

  The breeze picked up and I thought I heard a giggle. She had never been loud at this time, but the wind was never strong at sunset either. It wasn’t until midnight and beyond that things got wild; I’d spent a lot of nights at 3:00 a.m. staring at the ceiling with my eyes wide open listening to what I swore were cackling shrieks of laughter.

  I reached the bottom of the valley, walked the flat fifty or so feet, and then started to make my way up the slope at the other side. Around half way up, the wind got stronger and the giggling started again; it was louder this time, bouncing across the bluish purple sky like mischievous chimes. A few goose bumps popped up on the back of my neck.

  Got to see this through.

  A minute later I was on the other side of the valley about ten feet away from the house’s cracked cement porch.

  The wind had stopped blowing and it was quiet again—no giggling, no laughing. I stepped onto the porch, went up to the thin door, and turned the knob. The door creaked open.

  I stepped inside.

  Looking over the room I saw old photos on the paint-peeled walls, dust covered books, a couple of dresses bunched up in the corner, and a floor-to-ceiling window showing off the green field at each side of the room.

  Straight ahead were the stairs to the second floor.

  Time to go up.

  Leaving the door wide open, I walked over to the staircase and placed my hand on the banister. I rubbed the back of my neck and then set my foot on the first step; it felt solid, but like the door, creaked when I applied pressure. I took another step and looked back to make sure the door was still open. It was, and I made my way up the rest of the stairs.

  The staircase rattled when I stepped onto the third step from the top, but I ignored it and kept going. I reached the final step and stepped onto the loft. A noose hung in a soft glow of sunlight at the center of the barren room.

  Keep going.

  I walked over the wooden floor up to the noose and touched the rope. It burned my hand and I jerked it back.

  She giggled.

  I’d seen enough.

  I hustled down the stairs and the instant my foot hit the floor the front door slammed shut. She giggled again. This couldn’t be happening! I ran to the door and tried to turn the knob but it wouldn’t budge. The giggles turned to laughter as I banged my fist and then kicked my foot against the door.

  The door didn’t move an inch.

  Laughter like ear-splitting razor blades tore through the house and my head started to pound; I pressed my hands against my ears and dropped to my knees.

  Even though my hands were on my ears I heard the stairs creak; I looked over but the staircase was empty. The throbbing in my head got worse and I got back to my feet and went over to one of the windows where I pulled at the metal latch holding it shut. It was as frozen as the door. More laughter blasted through the house and I felt something like a hot breath in my ear.

  Screw this!

  I scrambled backwards into the dark to the center of the room, shut my eyes, and charged at the window. My forearms hit the glass, shattering it as the rest of my body crashed through and I hit the ground outside with sharp edges of glass cutting into my arms and legs. I pushed myself to my feet and wiped the shards off my clothes and opened my eyes. It has gone quiet and the orange sunlight still lit up the green valley as the grass blew in the gentle breeze.

  She started laughing again.

  And I started running.

  I sprinted across the valley as booming laughter smothered the sky. This visit was over and when I reached my family’s house, I ran in, packed my bag, and rushed back out. Her howling shrieks whipped around the driveway like a hysterical cyclone. I ran to the Jeep and pulled myself inside. Without looking back, I hit the gas, backed out of the driveway, and hauled ass down the dirt road that would take me back to the highway. The laughter faded after I’d driven about a mile.

  And after another mile it was gone.

  Six hours later I was pulling up the driveway of my condo.

  I went inside, showered, and then walked over to Bob’s bar to drink beer, watch football, and try to forget that what happened had happened.

  And by the third quarter and my second pitcher I almost had.

  But later that night, after I’d gone to bed, I could hear her laughter in my head. I heard it the next night, and the next night after that. A week went by, and then a month, and then six. And although I’d faced the fear, I now knew that she was real.

  And I’ve been hearing her laughter in my head every night at sunset ever since.

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  Additional books of interest from Paranormal Publishing available on Amazon and at www.PararnormalPublishing.net

  Volumes II and III: True Ghost Stories and Hauntings

  More stories about ghosts and hauntings from Simon B. Murik.

  Boxed set of Volumes I, II, and III (Kindle)

  For kids: Ghost Coloring Book Kids love coloring these ghosts as they bring them to life. Let your imagination fly and have lots of fun with this spooky activity book!