Book Read Free

The Haunting of Brynlee House: Based on a Real Haunted House

Page 3

by Caroline Clark


  Something touched her leg, it was so brief so slight she was not sure it had even happened. Her eyes flicked open but she was so comfortable she did not want to wake. Closing her eyes again she relaxed back down and ignored it. Just five more minutes and she would get a drink. A shudder ran down her spine, and goose bumps rose on her arms. The room was suddenly so cold she started to shiver, and again something touched her leg. In a flash, her hand went down to bat it away, but there was nothing there. She jerked awake and jumped out of the chair, almost tossing her laptop onto the floor.

  The room was cold, really cold, and she could still feel the trace of something across her leg. Something silky, like animal fur. The house was dark.

  How long had she slept?

  Suddenly, she felt afraid and yet, also very silly. Was she just panicking again? Of course, it was cold, the sun had gone down.

  The feeling in my legs?

  Then she almost laughed, she had been asleep in a chair, of course, her legs felt strange, silly, they had gone to sleep. It was just the blood rushing back into them.

  The light in the room did not seem bright enough, so she walked out of the door and put on the hall light. The hall seemed warmer.

  Why was that?

  Suddenly, she needed a drink, and this time it was not going to be hot chocolate. She made her way across the hall towards the kitchen. As she went beneath the banister a silky thread traced across her face. Her hand shot up to swipe it away, as her heart galloped like a racing horse. The tendril seemed to cling to her. The more she swiped at it, the more it stuck to her face and neck. It was hard to breathe, her chest ached, and her throat felt as if something was digging into it. A shadow passed before her seeming to coalesce before her eyes. A dark shadow! Then it was gone and so was whatever she had walked into.

  Emma stood there, dropped her head, grabbed onto her knees, and breathed heavily. What was happening? The house was so quiet, so lonely, and so empty and she was filled with fear.

  What was here, what was causing this?

  Maybe she couldn’t do this, maybe she should just leave. Then she saw Lynn’s card. The bright balloons, and the second card alongside the flowers. It brought her back to reason. There was no need to panic, there was no need to look for silly reasons. Looking down at her hands she realized that she had walked into a cobweb… just a cobweb and yet she had experienced a major panic attack.

  “Get a hold of yourself, Emma,” she said to the empty house.

  The sound of trees hitting the window on the first landing drew her eyes. As the trees shook and waved their skeletal branches in the wind, they caused shadows to jump against the walls. It was all just her nerves!

  This was just her getting used to a new situation. Getting used to being alone. She had left Mark, and she had survived, now she had left the shelter, and she would survive this. She would get used to living alone and soon she would enjoy it. She made a note to plug in her iPlayer and fill the house with music. It was creepy because it was all so quiet. So different to a home filled with 20 of her friends.

  Feeling better she walked into the kitchen opened the fridge and poured herself a glass of wine. Taking a large sip, she looked out the window. The back of the property was surrounded by woods. There was no fence, no nothing, it just drifted off into the trees, and more of them crowded around the back door. Maybe that was why she felt a little bit insecure.

  Taking another sip of wine, she relished the crisp sharpness as it hit the back of her throat. The trees tap, tap, tapped against the window. Maybe she should get out there and cut them back?

  Turning, she walked out of the kitchen and across the hall. Looking at her watch, it was not late, only just past ten and yet she felt so very tired. Taking the wine she put on the heating, it was too late to light the fire. The house ticked and creaked as the pipes warmed up. Ignoring it, she climbed the stairs and took a quick shower.

  The water was warm and relaxing, and she felt so much better after a quick soak. Taking her wine, she left the hall light on and climbed into bed. There she opened a book on her mobile and began to read. Soon her eyes would not stay open. Putting down the phone she turned off the light and curled under the duvet. It felt cool but safe. She closed her eyes and slept.

  Emma did not see, but in front of the cupboard, was the stuffed black cat. It looked so real, so peaceful and yet, as if it could move at any moment.

  Chapter 4

  Emma woke from a fitful sleep to find the house freezing. Quickly, she grabbed her robe. It was soft and fluffy and a candy floss pink. A present from Lynn when she first came to the shelter. It wrapped her in a comforting warmth as she ran down the wooden stairs to put on the heating.

  Then she jumped in the shower as the house began to heat up. The water was lukewarm, but it would do, and it freshened her up. Sat on the bed, she began to dress. Strange ticking noises made her look behind her, then there was a creaking, groaning, and she felt her heart start to pound. Yet she knew it was just the pipes. As the house heated up, they were bound to make noises. After all, it was an old house and had not been lived in for some months.

  Feeling better she went to the kitchen and made herself some toast and tea. Stood in the kitchen she could feel a draft behind her. It was not the first time she turned around to see where it came from. The wall behind her was roughly plastered and painted in whitewash. As she watched, the white faded, darkened and a stain appeared. It was spreading like a living thing. Like some black mold that was filmed in slow motion and seemed to grow before her very eyes. She raised her hand to her face and felt her mouth open. “What the…”

  As soon as it had appeared, the stain was gone, and the wall was simply a faded white again. Emma clasped onto the worktop and tried to control her breathing. Was she seeing things? The sound of a bang behind her had her jumping around. Her heart in her throat, she felt her knees go weak. Somebody was there. A shadow passed across the window, a light shape and then it was gone.

  Emma moved towards the door, her hand was shaking, was someone there? The sound of laughter behind her was high-pitched, almost like a child and she could smell smoke. She flipped back around. No one was in the kitchen. It was if the noise was coming from within the walls. Had she heard it? She began to question herself, for the noise had just been on the edge of her hearing.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  Emma jumped, and a hand flew to her mouth. She stood there, frightened, her knees weak, her stomach turning, and the hairs on the back of her arms standing on edge. Once again her mind turned to Mark. Had he found her?

  The knock came again, only this time she could see a shape through the glass panel of the back door. Someone was there, someone was inside the porch.

  “Hello,” came a woman’s voice.

  Relief flooded through Emma, and she gasped out loud. Quickly, she walked to the door and opened it to see a woman stood there. A basket was thrust towards her, full of muffins, and Emma reached out to grab it.

  “Morning, I’m Janet… I just wanted to see how you were doing, if you had settled in?”

  Emma fumbled with the basket and stepped backward indicating to Janet to come in. Tree branches scratched against the porch windows like chalk on a blackboard or nails on glass.

  Janet had shoulder length brown hair cut into a bob that swung as she moved. Rosy red cheeks told of the nip in the air, and big brown eyes looked surprised over a friendly smile.

  “I heard somebody was moving in. I just wanted to see how you are doing,” Janet said again.

  Emma was still trying to control the pounding of her heart, but she put the basket on the side and indicated a small table in the corner. Janet took a seat. The smile on her face hadn’t slipped once.

  “Would you like a drink?” Emma asked. “Oh, I’m Emma, by the way, and it’s nice to meet you.”

  Janet nodded. “Tea would be lovely.”

  “Do you live nearby?” Emma asked as she put on the kettle.

  “I’m your nea
rest neighbor. It’s about 5 miles away.”

  Emma gulped, so far.

  Soon she had made the drinks and they were sitting and eating raspberry muffins. It felt nice to have someone there, to have noise in the house and to not feel alone. Maybe that had been the problem all along, maybe it was just being all alone. As they drank and ate, Emma could not help but notice that Janet always had a smile on her face.

  “Did you know my aunt?” Emma asked.

  Janet put down her cup, and it rattled on the table. Emma notice that the smile had gone from her face.

  “I didn’t know her well, I don’t think anyone did. Did you know her?”

  Emma shook her head. “I didn’t even know she existed… Not until I got the letter telling me about this house. I can’t explain how happy I was. To be given this chance and this place… it was just amazing.” The words sounded hollow in her mouth and to her ears. It was an amazing house, an amazing opportunity, and yet she just felt like she wanted to leave. To run back to the city, to run back to her friends.

  “I can imagine that would be quite a shock,” Janet said as she fiddled with her hands on the table. “Did you find the letter Sylvia left you?”

  Emma shook her head confused. “All I got was a letter from the solicitor.”

  Janet looked across at the work surface as if she was searching for something. “She told me she’d left it on the side or if not it would be in the bread bin. I think you really ought to read it.”

  Why did that sound so ominous? Emma thought and then she shuddered. “In the bread bin!”

  Janet nodded.

  Emma remembered the moldy bread smell from the bread bin and yet, now it looked like she would have to dig it out of the rubbish to find this letter. Did it matter?

  The two of them talked another 10 to 15 minutes, drinking tea and eating muffins. Janet invited her to a party she was having with a few friends in a couple of weeks, and Emma said that she would come.

  “I sometimes hear a child laughing or possibly even screaming,” Emma said, hoping that she did not sound too silly.

  “It could be children playing in the woods,” Janet said, her eyebrows were knitted together, and she did not seem convinced.

  “The house is strange too, there are cold drafts, strange noises. I know. it’s silly, but I felt like somebody touched my leg the other night.” Emma did not know why she was saying these things. She knew what was happening, she was stressed, looking for trouble where there was none. Apart from that, she didn’t even know this woman yet she was admitting to being scared in front of her.

  Janet seemed to be studying her fingers. They were small and neat, her nails perfectly polished in a pearlescent shade of pink. Emma got the feeling she wanted to say something.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “You need to read that letter,” Janet said. “Maybe Sylvia will explain… you see… well… there are rumors about this house. Some say it is haunted. Some say the spirit of a child who was burnt in the garden out back still haunts this place… that it has not been laid to rest.” Janet gave a light laugh as if she was mocking herself. “I can’t believe I just said that. It’s obviously really silly, and I don’t mean to scare you.” She pulled out a notepad from her pocket and wrote down a phone number passing it to Emma. “If you ever need anything just give me a call, now, I really have to be going. It was nice to meet you, Emma.” Janet stood and walked to the door. “I usually go to Castleton once a week, why don’t I pick you up next Thursday.”

  Emma nodded and then watched as her friend picked up the empty basket and walked out of the door. Suddenly, the house was very empty again. Very empty and very ominous. She stood in the kitchen looking out the window. Suddenly, the haunting sound of a child’s scream came from behind her. As she turned, a cold draft hit her face and lifted her hair, it smelt of smoke and clogged her throat. With fear clenching an icy hand onto her heart, Emma turned. The house was so silent as if it was waiting. All she could hear was a high-pitched whine, as if her ears had been subjected to an explosion. A stream of mist appeared before her as her breath turned to vapor in the frosty air. “Sh…” she tried to say the cuss word but nothing came out, her throat would not move, and she was shivering with the cold.

  Suddenly, her ears popped as if the pressure had changed and the room was warm. The sound of the pipes ticking released the spell and she sagged back against the counter.

  What was going on?

  Chapter 5

  Emma knew she must get the letter out of the bread bin. It was not something she was looking forward to, and so she pulled some rubber gloves out of the cupboard and taking the last sip of tea she steeled herself for the task ahead. It wasn’t hard to get hold of the bread bin, she pulled it up and out of the bin. Taking a breath, she opened the flap. The site of the moldy bread almost made her gag, and the smell seemed to clog at the back of her throat. She reached in and grabbed hold of the bag pulling it straight out and back into the big bin. There at the back was a plastic sleeve. Emma pulled it out and could see a letter inside of it. Once she had the letter, she threw the bread bin back into the trash, pulled off the rubber gloves and threw them after it. Slamming the lid, she returned to the kitchen.

  Once she had washed her hands, she sat down at the table and pulled the letter out of the plastic. It was folded over but in a neat script on the top was just one word. Emma. Taking a breath, she opened the letter.

  My dearest Emma,

  I know you do not know me, but I am your aunt. My name is Sylvia, and I have lived in this house all my life. There has been a member of our family in this house since it was built in 1575 and there must be one until the end of time.

  I have to tell you some harsh truths. One of our family was killed here, and since that time one of us has remained to see that justice is done. Now it is your turn. Do not allow visitors to enter this house. Do not allow anyone into the cage. The longer you stay here, the more you will see, the more you will feel. The presence of your great-great-great-grandmother, Ursula Kemp, will give you strength and let you see.

  There is evil in this house, and it is your job to make sure that it does not escape. Mark my words, evil is here, and if you let it, it will leave. The consequences of that will be grave for all.

  I wish I could be here with you, to explain what you need to do, but I cannot. My time has come, but maybe we will meet soon. Maybe I will be strong enough to help you. There will be times when you will be afraid. There may be times when you will be in danger. Do not underestimate Alden Carter, for he committed a crime that can never be forgiven. If he can, he will hurt you, if he can, he will kill you. Do not trust the young girl. Though she was a victim, evil runs through her veins. She is not the one to protect, she must be kept here and never allowed to leave.

  Rely on your relatives, rely on those who came before and rely on Ursula, for only she can keep you safe.

  Look after the cat for he has been here as long as I have.

  Sylvia.

  Emma stared at the letter for a long time not knowing quite what to think. Surely her aunt must have lost her mind. Maybe it was dementia, or maybe it was just some sickness brought on by old age and loneliness. Whatever it was the letter had left Emma feeling disturbed and wanting to get out of the house even for just a little while. Maybe she should go into Castleton and have a coffee. Maybe just getting out of the house for a while would make her feel better. Then she remembered she had a deadline. Tomorrow she was supposed to turn in some work. One more hour and she could finish it. So, she decided to spend that time, finish the work, and then get out of the house at least for a couple of hours. Maybe just being around other people would give her time to think.

  Emma lit the fire, not because it was cold but simply because it gave her the feeling of not being alone. Then she fired up her laptop and started on her work. Soon she was engrossed and was starting to forget the bad feeling she had. It was silly to think that the house was haunted and the letter from h
er aunt was just plain stupid. There was no way she was going to let it spoil things for her.

  It took just over an hour to complete the copywriting work. She saved it to her hard drive, typed up an email, attached the work, and then realized she couldn’t send it. Of course, the Internet still wasn’t working so she would have to go into town, check on the Internet, have a coffee, call Lynn, and send off her work. Then she would come back for the night. The thought of that sent a shiver down her spine, she shook it away. Nothing had happened, nothing was going to happen.

  Closing her laptop, she walked to the kitchen for her coat. As she grabbed it from a chair, she noticed the stuffed cat curled up on the counter. The coat dropped from her hand.

  “Jesus!”

  Her heart was pounding, the hair was stood up on the back of her neck, and her knees felt like jelly. How had it gotten in here? The last time she remembered, it was on the sofa, looking all creepy and real.

  This had to be a joke.

  Someone had to be playing a joke on her.

  Was it Janet? Had she ever left her alone?

  Emma knew she hadn’t, and the words of the letter came back to haunt her. Sylvia had written, “look after the cat for he has been here as long as I have.”

  Emma felt as if she was going to start to laugh, but it would not be a laugh of joy, it would be a hysterical laugh that she knew would take over if she let it. As she walked towards the stuffed cat, its black fur all shiny and real, a loud bang sounded from the front of the house. Emma did not know which way to turn. She did not want to turn away from the cat, afraid of what it may do and yet she knew that was crazy. Still, she ran for the front door and yanked it open. A shadow disappeared into the woods. She could not see who it was or even what it was, but something had been there.

 

‹ Prev