The Haunting of Reindeer Manor

by Kevin Guest

  Fletcher rolled his eyes. “Great, a snack bar kitchen. I am sure it comes with a wide variety of healthy choices.”

  Anderson motioned for the group to continue. “It will do fine for five days.”

  As they turned the corner, the manor stood before them. Anderson was shocked at how much the scene resembled his dream. Aside from no glass in the windows, it was remarkably close.

  “What a dump,” said Jessie, sounding almost angry. “Look at all the trash around. This whole place is trashy—broken-down cars, piles of scrap wood, old washing machines, broken-down construction equipment, busted electronics, and more. Doesn’t anyone ever clean this place?”

  Fletcher rolled his eyes. “I don’t think so; besides, I have a feeling those broken items are there on purpose.”

  Amy spoke up. “Yes, like a set design. Like the broken down gas station along Dead Man’s Curve, it’s made to look like that, like a ghost town.”

  Anderson smiled as he too took in the ambiance. “Yes, it’s perfect. The long private dirt road, Dead Man’s Curve, the fork in the road, the old iron gates, and all the broken stuff— it’s absolutely beautiful!”

  Jessie rolled her eyes. “One man’s trash, I guess.”

  As they stood and observed the scene, Mary noticed, “It has no windows.”

  Fletcher lit another cigarette, “Yes, it does, they’re just bricked up.”

  “Why?”

  He rolled his eyes and walked forward, ignoring her.

  Mary glared at him. “What a jerk,” she muttered.

  Anderson laughed. “We’re here, my dear; let’s not get off to a wrong start.”

  The group walked onto the long concrete porch. Once they made their way to the end, Anderson pulled on the rusted steel door; however, it would not open. He pulled and pulled, but it refused to budge. He stepped back as the crew looked at him. “This is the entrance for the show; perhaps it’s not the door Andy intends for us to use.”

  They walked around the house, careful to avoid holes, lumber, poles, wires, and all kinds of metal scattered about.

  The smell of mold and fungus was in the air. Soon they found the reason; the backyard was filled with pools of stagnant water. Suddenly the girls were slapping their legs in a blind fury. Mosquitoes were everywhere, feeding off the living like a horde of microscopic vampires. The girls ran out of the back yard, while the professors, who were smart enough to wear pants, laughed. Their exposure to the pests was minor.

  Amy, Jessie, and Mary quickly dashed back to the front porch with their legs now covered with bites that soon would itch and torment them. However, Amy was concerned for a different reason. She had not seen the attack coming. She felt as if her senses were somehow impeded. She decided to keep this minor glitch a secret as she looked over the rusty door and found something.

  When the professors emerged from the back yard, they found the girls standing next to the rusty door. It was wide open. “That’s strangely convenient,” Fletcher said as he threw his cigarette butt on the ground.

  Amy rolled her eyes. “Not really. I opened it. There’s a latch at the bottom.”

  Jessie was standing off to the side, reading the rules for entry.

  Without hesitation, Anderson insisted they enter. At his command, the group wandered in. Mary clung to Anderson as he felt along the wall for a light switch. Fletcher reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flashlight.

  Jessie quickly remarked, “You’re not supposed to use a flashlight; it’s in the rules posted outside.”

  Anderson mumbled to himself, “And the dean suggested you as an assistant. Wow.”

  Fletcher cocked a smart-aleck smile and used the light to scan the walls for a light switch. As the light traveled along the wall, it illuminated the old, worn-out wallpaper.

  Jessie kept her hands in her pockets, disgusted by the smell and look of the old house.

  After a time, Anderson located an old wall switch. He flipped it, but nothing happened. “Well, that’s going to make things difficult.”

  “How are we to conduct an investigation without electricity?” Fletcher balked.

  “I bet this outlet is just a prop,” Anderson said nervously.

  Amy and Jessie huddled together. The house was quiet, except for a creak now and then. The interior was cold and musty; the smell was pungent and difficult to get used to.

  They continued on, following the wall with the flashlight. They came to an opening that led to a different room. As they entered, Jessie screamed when a cold drop of water hit her head. Fletcher quickly swung the flashlight around and rolled his eyes. She giggled when she figured out what it was.

  A moment later, they found another switch, but this one did not work either.

  Anderson rolled his eyes. “It’s not a problem. I’ll call Andy. It’s just an oversight.” He pulled out his cell phone, but he had no signal. “Anyone else have a signal?”

  They all shook their heads. Anderson sighed, “Well, then it’s by flashlight and phone-light until we find a working switch or a cell signal.”

  As they entered what seemed to be the living room, the air felt heavy and damp. Fletcher swung the flashlight around, its beam jumping off the shiny surfaces and dancing across the old pictures and artwork.

  The flashlight illuminated a staircase, and he followed it up with the light. It stopped on the second floor, where a railing went all around the balcony. From his vantage point, he could see the second floor was also decorated with various pieces of artwork. The railing itself could be classified as art. Its long smooth handcrafted finish ended with the hand carving of a young child.

  Why have they hidden this? Anderson thought. Though he toured the house as an attraction, none of this was here. How could they have restored it to this condition in mere months? That would be impossible; this must have been hidden. Suddenly he remembered the rooftop show; the staircase must be how the actors made their way up. They must use the second floor as a staging area. Anderson theorized that Andy must have exposed it for the investigation.

  Fletcher looked around in disgust. “This is definitely the house of a wealthy family--Republican, no doubt.”

  Mary looked at him. “And I suppose you’re not a Republican?”

  “No my dear, my views are rather liberal. Capitalists like this deserve what they get. Their prosperity was robbery by legislation.”

  Anderson stopped the speech. “Political views are not a part of my investigation. Let’s continue looking around.”

  As they walked on, Jessie had a sudden feeling. “They know we’re here.”

  “Jessie!” Anderson snapped. He was growing tired of her quickly. Whatever respect he had for her stopped when she quoted the rule about flashlights.

  “I’ll keep my observations to myself,” she said coldly.

  “Thank you. We’re here to do legitimate scientific research. How can we possibly do that if we pander to each other’s fears?”

  “Yes Professor, I got it, it’s just—”

  Amy leaned over and whispered, “Stop while you’re ahead. I feel the sensation too.”

  They walked down the hallway to the left, with Anderson in the lead. Behind him were Mary, Amy, and Jessie, with Fletcher at the rear. The hallway twisted and turned, and eventually they came to a large door. Slowly, Anderson pushed the door and it creaked open. He looked back. “Pass me the light.”

  The flashlight was passed forward until Anderson had it. He then moved the flashlight back and forth. The room was ornately decorated; bookshelves ran from floor to ceiling. A large couch sat in the middle, with two chairs on either side. Under the furniture was an old green throw rug with gold lace running along the border. In the corner of the room stood a massive grandfather clock, its hands frozen at 3:02.

  Anderson walked over to the clock. “I wonder what was occurring when this clock stopped.” Though it was a cheesy thought, the sight of the clock and the surroundings sent chills down his spine.

&
nbsp; Fletcher was drawn to a large desk, which sat across the room from the clock. It was filled with legal documents, letters, and office supplies. “Do you think this is a prop?”

  Anderson walked over and picked up the papers. They were yellow with age and water stained. The dates were sporadic, but all from the 1920s. “I don’t think so; I don’t remember it being here.”

  Fletcher opened the drawer on the right and found an old hand cranked flashlight. He cranked it up and it emitted a soft white light “Who said old technology is useless!”

  After their brief inspection, they walked back down the twisted hallway. The light from the old flashlight flickered, causing their shadows to dance along the wall.

  They returned to the living room but did not stop. They walked straight ahead and entered what appeared to be a dining room. It was void of furniture.

  With a faint, almost involuntary cry, Jessie began to whimper. Amy reached forward and felt her hand. “Oh my God, you’re ice cold!” She looked Anderson. “We must leave this room. It’s too much!”

  Anderson eyed Jessie closely, making sure it was not an act. As he touched her, he could feel a definite temperature change. His mood lightened and he nodded. “Take her into the other room.”

  Amy used the light from her cell phone to guide Jessie into the living room. Her temperature began to rise and she was able to breathe.

  Anderson, Fletcher, and Mary continued. In the next room, they could tell it used to be a kitchen. There was a drain in the floor and pipes sticking out of the floor along the wall. Old cabinets hung from the ceiling. Mary took Anderson’s arm. “What’s wrong with Jessie?”

  “I don’t know. However, why it’s happening to her and not Amy is the real question. Amy is the one who should be sensing things. It is a bit disturbing.”

  As they moved on, they walked into another room. As Anderson and Fletcher played the flashlights around, it appeared to be a chapel. The carpet was red and there were pews and an altar, but it was not a place of God. The cross was upside down.

  Anderson and Fletcher continued to scan the room with the flashlights. On the wall were paintings of executions and debauchery. One painting had a severed hand feeding a woman grapes. Above the altar was a pentagram with eyes, horns and a mouth. Sticking out of the mouth was a snake-like tongue completing the blasphemous display.

  “Ander—” Suddenly Mary hunched over and threw up all over the carpet. The men could not blame her as the devilish chapel was very unnerving.

  Fletcher quickly walked up and grabbed Anderson by the arm, “Are you going to tell me that a group of young Boy Scouts designed this room?!”

  Anderson was perplexed. The letter clearly stated they returned the house to its previous condition, but this room was beyond a needed display. Something was wrong.

  As they helped Mary back into the living room, they discovered Amy was missing. Anderson stepped forward. “Where is—”

  “I don’t know,” interrupted Jessie. “She brought me back in here, but we heard noises coming from the dining room. When I looked back, she was gone.”

  “Damn.” Anderson had enough to worry about. He did not need a lost medium on his hands. “I’m sure she’s fine. She probably went outside for a bit; let her be.” He returned to the chapel but was shocked. The vomit was gone! Suddenly a sensation came over him. The room felt cold and confined. He no longer wanted to be there. The memory of his dream began to return. Without missing a beat, he turned and joined the others, though he kept his experience to himself.

  As Anderson walked in, he noticed Fletcher was missing.

  Near the entrance, Fletcher was calling out, “Amy, can you hear me?”

  A few moments later, he found her, shivering in a corner by the front door. “Amy, what are you doing here all alone? You had us worried sick!”

  “I’m sorry, but I had to get away from the dining room. Something is in there, something horrid.”

  Fletcher theorized that the sensation she was feeling was actually coming from the chapel and not the dining room. “We have to rejoin the others.”

  She nodded. “All right.”

  As Fletcher helped her back into the living room, Anderson walked over to her. “Don’t you ever do that again! Never, under any circumstances leave the group, do you understand?”

  “I’m sorry,” she cried.

  He took a deep breath. “All right, people, let’s calm down. I think the scope of our project is beginning to overwhelm us. Let’s restart.”

  Settling In