Darkness Echoes: A Spooky YA Short Story Collection

by L. A. Starkey

  “Kimmy! Tori!” called a voice from one of the porches.

  “Yes, Grandma?”

  “It will be getting dark soon. You should bring Kimmy inside.”

  “Okay, be right there!” Tori took Kimmy by the hand and led him up a walkway from the garden to the house. The floorboards underneath a canopy marking the entrance creaked just like in old haunted houses she’d read about. This is going to be the best Halloween, she thought as she opened the door and stepped into a room with floor tiles curling with leaves, braided twists and diamonds.

  “I haven’t been here since I was your age,” she said, raising three fingers toward Kimmy, who lifted three fingers back. Smiling, Tori scooped the boy up in her arms and flipped him behind her so he could ride piggyback. “That was thirteen years ago. Everything feels familiar, but I can’t remember any of it.” She studied the staircase that rose from the entryway and split into two sides, one veering off to the left and the other to the right. “Phew,” she whistled. “This place is crazy big.”

  Tori found her mother and father snuggled before a fireplace in a room that was way too large to be a normal living room. It was like someone had built the house around a ski lodge. “Comfy?” she asked, grinning.

  “Hey, Tori baby,” said her mother. “Was Kimmy behaving out there?”

  “Yep,” she said, prying the boy off her back. She twirled him while making airplane sounds before dropping him on her father’s lap. “Grandma was just worried that it was getting dark outside.”

  “Not worried,” said a voice as a woman rounded a corner, her hands filled with a tray of mugs. She peered at Tori over her eyeglasses. “My property is as safe as can be. Your grandfather saw to that. It’s just that Kimmy is young and will need to go to bed soon.”

  Out of respect for the matronly presence of her grandmother, Tori nodded. Behind the glasses—trifocals with bone-white frames—her grandmother’s eyes were a deep blue, like Kimmy’s and their father’s. Tori and her mother both had eyes of dull hazel. Both sides of the family had dark hair, everyone except Kimmy, who had blond curls.

  Tori beamed as she accepted a mug of steaming cocoa. She inhaled its sugary sweetness before taking a sip and sitting down. Her chair, high-backed with claws carved into its armrests, gave her a slight thrill.

  Grandma’s property is as safe as can be. That didn’t sound fun; the hugeness and creepiness of the house had so much potential. But her grandmother’s self-assessment provided an opportunity. “So, if it’s safe, can I go back outside for a walk? There are a lot of grounds to explore, and we’re only here for a few days.” She gave her parents her most angelic smile. “I brought my favorite hiking boots. Please?”

  “Okay, baby,” her mother said, running her fingers through Kimmy’s curls. His eyelids closed halfway. “But don’t stay out too late, avoid strangers, and if ever in doubt—”

  “—scream fire and run back to the house. Yes, Mom, I know. I’ve been babysitting Kimmy since the day he was born. I can handle it.”

  Her father smiled. “We trust you, hon—it’s just the crazies out there in the world,” he said, thumbing toward the door. “That’s who we’re worried about.”

  “I said that it’s safe, Carl. As long as she stays on the paths, she’ll be fine.” Tori’s grandmother bobbed her head in disapproval, her white curls plastered in place, as she collected the mugs and set the tray on a table. She pulled a lump of knitwear from a chest wedged next to the fireplace. “Here, take this sweater with you. The most danger you’ll run into out there will be the cold when the sun sets. Go on now, have fun.”

  “Thanks, Grandma.” Tori had noticed her grandmother’s indignant look as she’d reminded everyone of her property’s safeness. It was as if her grandmother wanted someone to go out there, to enjoy what she and her late husband had spent their lives building.

  Once outside, Tori tied the sleeves of the sweater around her waist. Her long-sleeved flannel was warm enough for now, buttoned up over her T-shirt and jeans. Thick socks lined her boots.

  A fresh breeze skimmed across her cheeks. It felt good to be outside. As much as she loved her brother and her family, being alone every so often helped her to recharge.

  Chapter Two

  Tori strolled along the paths, passing different types of gardens. Some were filled with flowers and hedges; others were modern combinations of rocks, gazing balls, and small pools teeming with fish. She ran her fingers along a gate that surrounded rows of evergreen seedlings.

  “Grandma’s property doesn’t seem to end,” Tori murmured. I wonder who takes care of all this. She hadn’t seen a soul inside or outside who wasn’t a family member, excluding the cemetery, which she had yet to visit. During the drive over, her father had explained that the plantation had once produced tobacco. Since the renovations, the crops from the nearest fields were replaced with recreational gardens and other aesthetic features. Tori’s grandmother continued her husband’s tradition of renting out the remaining property to local families and owners of Christmas tree farms.

  “Maybe everyone’s gone home to their families for the night.” Tori traced her steps back toward the house, suddenly fearful of getting lost. Twenty minutes later, convinced that she’d taken a wrong turn, she untied the sweater from her waist and pulled it over her flannel shirt. Her teeth chattered as light from the last rays of sun faded. Well, it’s finally getting spooky, I guess.

  Tori squinted. “Maybe if I find a light,” she mumbled, “that will give me a hint as to the direction of the house.”

  The path she was on now roughened with each step. Before long, the walkway became overgrown with weeds and crabgrass. This can’t be right. She looked back over her shoulder. There was no light from the direction from which she’d come, but at least the path was smoother. Surely it would lead to a better route.

  She stepped to the right, ready to turn around, when a twinkle of light stung her eye. She blinked, certain that the twinkle had been in the direction she’d already been walking. As she stepped back around, her eyes focused on the source of the light. It came from somewhere farther away, beyond the overgrown path.

  Tori quickened her pace. The light glowed more brightly—appeared larger—as she neared its unknown source.

  She stopped, breathless, before a lantern. It hung from a pole and creaked as it swayed in the wind. Looking more closely, she noticed that the lantern was made of metal and glass. Electric, maybe? Automatic with a light sensor? She was certain that her grandmother wouldn’t have a solitary light in the middle of her property. It made no sense. She sighed, wishing she’d found a porch light instead.

  As quickly as she’d feared that she’d become lost, she was enveloped by a calming presence, as if someone else was there. But the grounds were empty and quiet, echoing the darkness. No one was there, no one she could see.

  “Impossible,” she whispered. It must be a ghost. “Hello?” she called out, “Is anyone there?”

  Tori could almost hear her goose bumps forming in the silence.

  Well, there’s no one here, and this light isn’t helping me find the house. She turned to go back in the direction she’d come. Back to the Better Route plan. When she turned, the light glowed brighter. She looked back, shielding her eyes. “Did you do that, Lantern?”

  The light dimmed.

  Her shoulders tensed. She dragged one foot along the ground, slowly, as if she planned to turn back again.

  Gently, the light brightened.

  She frowned. Her hands balled into fists. “I don’t know what’s going on here. But if someone’s playing games with me, that someone’s going to get it. Halloween’s just a few days away, and I have a few tricks up my sleeve too. Don’t think I won’t use them,” she said, her voice pinched.

  The light dimmed.

  “Ugh.” Tori rolled her eyes at herself. Maybe it’s a faulty bulb? I must look like a complete idiot. Regardless, she closed her eyes as she turned around—the whole way this time. She took a fe
w large steps before opening them again.

  Light from the lantern behind her flashed on and off. Repeatedly, as if panicked. Each pulse of light casted a yellow-orange glow across the fog that had spread out in front of her.

  Unsure of what was happening and too terrified to scream, Tori bolted along the path, away from the lantern and the light.

  ***

  Three mugs of hot chocolate and a pile of blankets weren’t enough to chase away the chills.

  “Tori, baby, tell us what happened.”

  “Like I said, I got lost. It was stupid.” She wrapped her arms more tightly around her knees.

  “But you’re still shivering, hon. Did you run into anyone out there?” Tori’s mother hovered, wide-eyed with fear. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, heightening the effect. “Someone didn’t hurt you or touch you, did they?”

  “No, nothing like that. I’m fine, nothing’s molested or broken. Really, Mom. I just—I was out there for too long and it took me a while to get back. No one hurt me. Grandma’s property—it’s a lot bigger than I thought. I should have turned around sooner.”

  “Okay, baby, it sounds like you had quite the scare. I won’t make you relive it over again.”

  Tori grasped her mother’s hand where it lightly rubbed her shoulder. “Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

  “Love you too, baby. I’m going up to bed now. You sure you’re going to be all right?”

  “Yes, I’ll be up soon. I’ll just clean this up for Grandma, and then I’ll try to get some sleep.”

  After setting aside the blankets and folding them into tidy squares, Tori headed to the kitchen with her mug. She dipped it in warm, soapy water to dissolve the worst of the sticky chocolate. Squinting, she looked out the window before loading the mug into the dishwasher.

  It was dark outside, but there was a fleck of light that looked out of place. Tori shook her head, trying to rid the image from her mind, but she couldn’t help wondering whether it was Lantern. From the safety of the kitchen, the light didn’t look so bad; it looked lonely.

  “Sleep,” she grumped. “That’s all I need right now. The question is whether or not I’ll get any.”

  Tori glanced out the window one last time before turning away to get ready for bed.

  She fell asleep that night, not knowing that after she’d left the kitchen, the light in the distance flashed on and off repeatedly before it burned out.

  Chapter Three

  Four Days before Halloween

  Marshmallows floated inside a mug cupped between Tori’s hands.

  Tori’s grandmother wrinkled her nose. “Honestly, I don’t know how you drink your coffee that way.”

  “It’s better than straight marshmallows for breakfast.” Tori winked, pointing to Kimmy, whose mouth and hands were stuffed with white, fluffy goodness. “Speaking of—” she added, wiping her brother’s mouth with the closest napkin she could find. She grinned. The napkin was covered in purple bats. Unable to think of how to imitate a bat sound so she could entertain Kimmy, she turned back to her grandmother. “Mom and Dad will be up soon. They won’t be excited about his sugar rush.”

  “Pfft! I get to see you two for a few days at a time, and I will spend every moment of it spoiling you. The boy’s a ball of energy—he’ll burn it off in five minutes.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.” Tori exhaled out of the side of her mouth. “So,” she said, changing the subject, “do you know that you have a lantern on your property, out in the middle of nowhere?”

  Her grandmother’s eyes narrowed. “You walked that far? No wonder you were upset when you returned last night. That’s nowhere near the gardens.”

  Despite the warmth of her grandmother’s kitchen, which included a stove, a fireplace, and a healthy dose of central heating, Tori shuddered, remembering. “I wasn’t sure I would make it back. I searched for a light, hoping it would lead me back to your house. I hadn’t realized the lantern was so far away.”

  Tori’s grandmother paled, her wizened eyes staring intently at her granddaughter. “As far as I’ve known, that old lantern has never worked. I wanted to find a bulb for it years ago, but my groundskeeper said there was no use—that it was too old. Are you telling me the lantern was lit?”

  Heartbeats pulsed in Tori’s ears. “Yes. It even got brighter at one point…” Then flashed like a maniac appliance. What are you, Lantern?

  Frowning, Tori’s grandmother rose from the table and started gathering empty plates. Her lips pursed. “After all this time…” She fumbled, startled when Tori’s parents entered the room. A plastic cup fell to the ground and bounced.

  “Kimmy!” said Tori’s mother, grabbing the half-empty bag of marshmallows. She glared at her mother-in-law, and then at Tori, who pretended to be interested in her mixture of coffee and melty marshmallows, wishing they’d melt together faster before her mother noticed them in her mug.

  “Good morning, Mother,” said Tori’s father as he kissed the ruffled woman on the cheek. He smirked, dodging the daggers in his wife’s eyes. “What’s wrong?” His smirk faded; he’d expected his mother to crack a joke about her privilege and right to spoil her grandchildren, but instead, she was lost in thought.

  Finally, she sucked in a breath. “Carl, do you remember that old lantern—the one past the gardens?”

  “Sure do, one of the few glass objects around here that I didn’t manage to break as a kid. Did you finally replace it with something that sheds light?” He smirked, amused at his play on words.

  “No, it just so happens that the lantern started to work all on its own, last night when Tori was outside talking her walk.”

  “Isn’t that something?” he said, mussing up Tori’s hair. “Is that what your fright was about? No Halloween monsters?”

  “At the time—yes, it was scary. Now, though, it seems silly. Don’t worry about it. Maybe it was a prank.” Maybe some lowlife was out there shining a flashlight through the lantern. That would make sense. Suddenly feeling stupid, Tori downed the rest of her coffee. She absolutely needed to inspect the lantern further. First, during daylight, and then later at night. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

  “I want to learn more about it,” said Tori’s grandmother, echoing her thoughts. “And don’t tease the girl. I’ll remind you that there are plenty of embarrassing stories I can pass on to your children about you, Carl.”

  Tori’s father laughed. He scooped Kimmy up in his arms. “You can’t have anything on me any worse than what Megan already knows,” he said, grinning at his wife. This was met with eye rolls from Tori and her mother.

  “So, can I go back out there to inspect the lantern?” Tori uncurled her fingers from her chair’s armrests. Her voice was strained. “Can I take a look at it now while there’s still light?”

  “Of course, baby. It sounds like quite the mystery.”

  Tori moistened her lips.

  “What are you waiting for, hon?”

  ***

  Leaves crackled underfoot as Tori walked through the gardens, searching for a landmark that led to the broken path—the one covered in weeds and crabgrass. She hadn’t found the courage to go exploring again until after lunch, a game of cards with her grandmother, and an argument with herself over her own ridiculousness.

  A rustle of leaves and branches made her jump. Her hand leaped to her chest as she caught a glimpse of a blue jay darting out of a bush. A bird, just a bird—he probably just found something to eat. She inhaled a slow breath. I must really be jumpy. It’s no big deal—just a lantern. Get a grip already.

  She traced her steps as well as she could remember from the night before. The lantern seemed less visible in the daylight. But it had to be somewhere. Her grandmother had known about the lantern and so did her father. Tori felt better to the extent that she knew she wasn’t making the whole thing up. When she closed her eyes, she could remember exactly how the light brightened and dimmed. She tried not to think abo
ut how the light also flashed. Had it happened to someone else, she might have considered it to be a great trick, one she’d like to try some day. But, right now, it wasn’t funny.

  Tori wandered, hiking along as many paths as she could find and stopping when she found one covered in weeds. Is this it? She peered across the grasses and shrubs in front of her. The overgrown path led toward the woods that surrounded her grandmother’s property, but she didn’t see a lantern hanging from a pole.

  She stepped forward, and then walked faster until she followed a bend on the path that opened into a clearing. The lantern swayed from its pole as if waving to the trees behind it. The top of the pole curved downward, and then up again, forming a hook. Both the pole and the handle that hung from the hook were made of a dark, wrought iron.

  Lantern, there you are. Tori’s eyes reached the middle of the glass globe. Judging from the height of the pole, she would have been able to grasp the lantern’s handle with ease. She gripped the sides of the globe with her hands and frowned. She couldn’t see inside. The glass was clear but clouded with condensation. Her hands remained dry, even though they’d come in contact with the glass. She let go, and then, with two fingertips, trailed her fingers across the globe. The condensation must be on the inside, she thought. Weird, but beautiful.

  Tori bit her lip and thought for a moment. She reached for the handle. Metal scraped metal as she loosened the handle from the hook. She grasped the top of the lantern, hoping it would pop off like a lid. It creaked slightly, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remove the top or loosen it like a screwcap. Maybe it’s fused together? Then how does anyone light it?

  “My flashlight theory might be right,” she murmured, ignoring her own questions. Part of her was disappointed. Knowing that something was amiss would have made her feel less silly about having been afraid the night before. Poor baby, scared of the dark. She gritted her teeth, giving the lid one last tug, pulling until her fingers turned pink. It didn’t budge. She sighed.