[Author's Note: This is a short story I've written for my creative writing class and I'm looking for some more constructive criticism. My friend did edit all the grammar and spelling after she read it.]
Something Horrific
Something Horrific
- ................A new house. That’s all that place had been when I first laid eyes on it. Nothing at all scary, menacing, or dreadful. It was a new house full of new beginnings, well, just barely. I never thought I was scared of much of anything. Gore never bothered me, horror gave me an adrenaline rush and some paranoia, but I never could say I was scared of anything until my family moved into this house. I would call things unsettling, eerie, creepy, or something else along those lines, but never scary or horrific.
................My family had moved away from our old home into another. We were still in the same area and county, but just a new house. It was an older house, but at the time it was what my mother wanted; she always said she wanted a house bigger than our townhouse. The house was a Victorian-styled one, which I loved. The way the house was shaped made it seem like it had three floors, but it only had two. The deep red paint had become pale in color, but the design on it was still very beautiful. It looked almost exactly like the Charles Hackley house in Muskegon, Michigan, but the coloring was different and so were some of the features.
................My mother and I arrived at the house to start painting several days before we moved anything into the house. It was a warm summer day and the third week of summer. My mother and I drove up the road and pulled into the driveway. The neighborhood was a decent size, yet it was also peaceful and quiet. The neighbors were kind and welcoming. We got out of the car and grabbed the paint and supplies we needed.
................We walked into the house talking about my father and how he’d probably be the one to wake up and wonder where he was once we moved in. As we entered the house, we took off our shoes and looked around; we went into a medium-sized room known as the foyer. My mother liked the house because of the veranda on the front of the house and the fact that all of the floors were wood except for the bedrooms. When we entered, that was the first thing I noticed; all the floors were dark, smooth, polished wood.
................There were two doors in the room; one door led into the parlor room and the other led into the library, or home office, which over-looked the veranda and front yard. The parlor room led into the dining room and from there you could go to the living room, which would have been called the sitting room, or to the kitchen. There was a bathroom downstairs, but the location is really unnecessary. The stairs sat in the foyer, but were also next to the sitting room.
................“Isn’t it nice?” my mother asked with a smile on her face. I nodded in agreement before I roamed around a bit to take a look. I had two older brothers, Carter and Drake, and we, my brothers and I, had only ever seen the floor plans, on which we had claimed our rooms as well. The moment our parents had come home with the plan my brothers had scrambled to get their rooms. My room ended up being at the back of the house between both of my brothers, but that worked out fine.
................Carter was the oldest at seventeen. He was the serious one out of the three of us and preferred science and logic to religion and myth. He wasn’t frightened easily and no matter how hard Drake tried, Carter was never scared. Drake was sixteen and the middle child; he could be a troublemaker, but he always meant well. He got scared, but he’d brush it off right after.
................After I had looked around the new home, my mother and I went up the stairs to the second floor. We went down the long hallway to my room, but as my mother went into the room I stopped. Right in front of my door was the attic entrance. Now, I always found attics to be a bit unsettling in a new place such as a new house. In the townhouse the attic was in my room. It felt like attics had it in for me half the time. I figured the attic entrance would have been further back down the hall, but it was right in front of my bedroom door.
................“Mom, is it odd that the attic door is right there?” I asked my mother as stared I up at it.
................“It’s uncommon, I suppose, but you’ll be fine. Come help me set up.” she said from inside my room, not bothering to come see the dark wood door that lead to the highest room in the house. With a sigh, I went into my new room and helped my mother paint the room a dark navy blue.
................The furniture was finally in the house causing it to be much livelier and humble looking. Everyone spent all day unpacking and organizing things. When it came time for bed I closed the door and laid in the bed. I had trouble falling asleep in new places, but I was so tired I fell asleep by the time my head touched the pillow. I awoke around midnight to the sound of footsteps above my room. I was still groggy, so my mind didn’t make any connections that the only thing above me was an attic.
................After a few minutes the sound stopped, and I fell back asleep. When I woke up I asked my brothers if they were doing something in their rooms at midnight, but they both said they had been asleep. I brushed off as what I heard from last night as being my imagination or just part of a dream. That day was spent organizing the rest of the house and checking out the backyard which was a decent size. My brothers and I played Frisbee while my mother read and my father made barbecue.
................Later in the night around midnight I awoke to those footsteps again, but this time my mind adjusted a bit quicker. The footsteps were heavy and seemed to drag along the floor. Finally it clicked in my mind that the area above me was just an attic. I didn’t even know what was up there, how much room there was, or if there was enough room for someone to move. Needless to say I was a little frightened and it took me several minutes before I fell asleep once the sound has stopped.
................This continued for several weeks where I would wake up to those footsteps then fall back asleep once they were gone, but I never truly got used to it. Finally I decided to go up into the attic and investigate. I wanted my bothers to come with me just in case since I didn’t know what was up there.
................“Will you guys come look at the attic with me?” I asked my brothers who sat on the couch in the sitting room.
................“Why do you need us to come with you? Nothing is going to be up there.” Drake replied as he looked away from the TV and at me.
................“Because if I hurt myself and can’t move mom and dad will be mad that you guys couldn’t hear me or weren’t with me when it happened.” The two looked at each other, and then sighed. I had made a point.
................“All right, let’s go then.” Carter somewhat grumbled before we all headed up the stairs. He pulled down the stairs to the attic and I ended up being the first to go up. As I climbed the stairs I started to worry about someone being up there. It was ridiculous to think that, but my mind just kept jumping to conclusions. I pushed open the attic door and looked into the room as I moved up the stairs. It was musky and dim like there was a dusty fog. There was enough room to stand, but moving around everything would prove to be difficult.
................There were things from back when the house was first built up to a couple years ago in the attic. It was hard to move around without moving things off to the side. Nothing could walk up here as easily as what I had been hearing at night. None of it made sense. The only places easy enough to walk were a small diameter around the door and the space behind it that was over the hallway.
................“Happy now?” Drake asked me as he entered the attic and Cater stood on the stairs with her arms crossed on the flood of the attic.
................“No. I kept hearing someone walking up here at night, but I never hear anything move.”
................“Maybe it’s dad.”
................“Why would dad come up here? Whatever it is walks over my bedroom and it’s not possible to do that without moving things.”
................“It’s your imagination.” Cater chimed in. I expected that from him. After Drake looked around we left the attic and returned to what we had been doing.
................That night turned out to be different. Instead of footsteps I heard something rasping at the floor then at the door to the attic. Fear went through me and I closed my eyes like that would make everything go away. It didn’t stop until around three in the morning when I heard the door to my parent’s room opened as my father headed down to the kitchen. Whatever was up there wanted out now, but that didn’t make any sense. Why would it want out now?
................Throughout the week I went into the attic every afternoon. I found that I was safe in the sunlight, but at night whatever was up in the attic would scratch on the door until someone left their bedroom. I cleaned the thick coat of dust off the window in the attic and started to search through the things in there to see if I could find anything to explain what was going on. I already knew that whatever resided in the attic at night wasn’t human. I didn’t find much as I searched through all the old things that were inside, but at night the clawing at the attic door got very vicious. I was surprised that no one else heard it at night.
................We lived in the house for two months and the clawing decreased as I gave up on looking for anything in the highest room in the house. The library had come fully furnished though. The old owner had died and everything was sold off except for the furniture and items in the library. Since my father wasn’t home I decided to go and take a look through that room. The room was painted a medium brown and smelled of old books. It had a calming, homey feel to it. The room seemed to be unchanged from when it was first decorated in 1800s. My father had added his own things, but he refused to change the room in anyway other than adding what he needed.
I looked through the desk and even searched for any hidden compartments in it and in the room itself, but I turned up empty handed. I decided to look at the books and as I scanned through them I found one book that was very old, but looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades. The previous owner had come over to talk about the house with my father. They were in the library at the time and when I passed by the man reached out to take a book from the shelf. He had aimed for the one I stared at now, but he avoided it and moved away to another section of books like it was the plague.
................The book was leather bound, but looked fairly new although it was published years and years ago. I pulled it off the shelf and held it in my hands. It weighed no more than any average book, but the title was hard to make out since it had been rubbed away probably from how many times it had been used. I opened the book and flipped through the pages as the air around me became stale and still.
................After a couple more pages a piece of folded paper fell out of the book and to the floor. I closed the book and slid it back into its place on the shelf before I knelt down to pick up the paper. It was an old piece of paper and had started to turn a brownish yellow from age. I carefully opened it and looked at the cursive handwriting scrawled on the page,
My dear friend,
........I have lived in this house alone for several years now, but I’m afraid that I am not alone anymore. At night I hear something scratching at my bedroom door, trying to get in. I have told everyone I know about the odd incidents that have surrounded those scratches, but they all think I’ve gone mad. I haven’t I tell you, I haven’t! I’m still as sane as I was the first day I walked through the door of this house. There’s something sinister that lives within these walls.
........It seems to fear the daylight and won’t make itself known until nightfall, between midnight and three o’clock. I’ve had guests and friends stay with me, but they never hear the sinister being scratching at my door. How could the not?! It’s the loudest thing in the house at night!
........I hope that I make it out of this house with my sanity intact. I will be moving out in three weeks to a new home. I just hope this thing doesn't follow me. It’s evil. It’s gotten into my room and it’s watched me. Just watched and not done anything until six nights later when it tried to smother me. One night it dragged me out of my bed and down the hallway. I saw that the stairs that led to the attic were out and it tried to drag me up there, but my friend came out after my screams woke him up.
........I hope that you do not ever have to experience what I have, my friend. I beg you, I beg you on hands and knees to leave this house as fast as you can and never return.
..................................................................................................................................................................................................Your friend,
..............................................................................................................................................................................................................Richard Hollow
................A long, jagged line stretched off the end of the w and off the page like something had pulled Richard away while he wrote his name. Now I was scared. I took the paper and looked through my mother’s contact book in the kitchen for the person who originally owned the house. When I found the number I quickly punched it into the phone.
................“Hello?” his voice came over the line clearly.
................“Yes, hello, Mr. Erikson, it’s Belle Moore the daughter of the people who bought your old home.” I sounded frantic even to myself. It was like I had a limited time to talk to this man and get as much information as I could.
................“Oh, hello, Belle. How do you like your new home?” he asked in a cheerier tone like it was the most pleasant subject in the world.
................“I hate it,” I stated in a bitter tone which seemed to catch him off guard. “I have a few questions for you.”
................“Um, fire away?”
................“Richard Hollow owned this house before you did correct?”
................“Yes...” Mr. Erikson sounded a bit more hesitant now. It seemed like he knew what was coming next and he wasn't pleased.
................“Do you know which room was originally his?”
................“It was the one at the back of the hallway.” Now my room.
................“Do you know what happened to him?” It was probably the weirdest question I could have asked anyone. I didn't bother to research what happened to the man, but Mr. Erikson lived in the house at one point and my father said he had done a lot of research on it.
................“Well...” he started, but he stopped himself, ................“What are you getting at? He died of a heart attack in the library.” He made it seem like it was supposed to be common knowledge.
................“What I’m getting at is the letter I found from him to anyone that found it and spoke about the thing that is in this house. That was in this house with him and tried to kill him and drag him to the attic.” There was no reply, only silence. I could hear his breathing after a minute. It was shallow and quick like he was almost afraid of what I had said.
................“There is nothing in that house.”
................“Liar! There is! I hear it every night scratching at the attic door trying to get out.”
................“There is nothing in that house!” he shouted forcefully. He wasn’t trying to make me believe, he was trying to make himself believe what he was saying. “I need to go.”
................“But-”
................“I’m sorry, Ms. Moore, but I must be going.” he said then the line went dead once he hung up. Drake came into the kitchen asking what all the commotion was about, but I told him it was nothing. I couldn’t tell him or Carter. They’d just laugh and think I was trying to pull a prank on them. For several nights I didn’t sleep. Whatever was in the attic knew that I knew more about it and what might have happened to Richard Hollow. He might have died of a heart attack, but if could have been caused by that thing.
................Again I awoke at midnight, but this time it wasn’t to scratching, but to a click. My brain took no time to adjust to the horror of what I heard. My eyes slowly moved over to my bedroom door as is opened slowly, hesitantly as if the thing opening it was trying not to wake me. I shut my eyes quickly and kept them shut.
................Please be mom, please be mom, please be mom, I repeated in my head at last a hundred times before my blood ran cold and I froze. I heard it’s shallow, heavy, raspy breathing from behind the door. It opened more now and I heard the floor creak slightly as the thing took a step into my room. I heard nothing for a short moment and relaxed. I felt something staring at me from my bed and the breathing returned. Suddenly I felt slim fingers around my neck trying to choke me as its grip got tighter. Slim, raw, rough fingers that felt almost slimy and sticky.
................My eyes finally opened as my hands gripped its slim writs to try and pry the hands from around my neck. Horror washed over me as I stared at the creature. It was tall, very slim, but very distorted. Its body was twisted in ways and places that weren’t human. Bones projected outward in awkward and painful direction that either had torn the flesh or threatened to. The skin was rotten and discolored in some areas or wasn’t present in others. The head was maybe the worst part. Thin strands of dark gray hair hung from its head and flowed down, almost to its shoulders. The skin was wrinkled like the nightmarish thing had been soaked in water for its whole existence. The right eye had been missing, but it’s left hung almost to the same length as its disjointed jaw. Black socks stared back at me as the corners of its mouth curved into a menacing, devious smile as it’s was slightly opening letting a horrible, rotten spell fill my nostrils.
................What surprised me next was that the creature was strong, strong enough to throw me into the wall. I tried to get up, but I was yanked forward by my leg and hit the wall. Soon I was pulled out of the room. I grabbed the door frame and held on for dear life. The stairs to the attic were down and the door open. It wanted to drag me up there and kill me. The evil thing had pried me away from the door frame and pulled me to the stairs. I screamed loudly when I felt something jab my leg. Carter’s door flew open and the thing was gone. I laid on the floor crying as my brother came over to comfort me and ask me what happened.
................My parents found a new house and we will be moving out in three days. After that incident and my father looked into the house’s paranormal history some more. Clearly something evil lived there and Richard Hollow tried to tell people about it, but they didn't listen. I stay in my room during the day, but I spend the night in either Carter or Drake’s room.
I leave this story here for anyone to find and hopefully you don’t go through what I have. If you are reading this, please, leave this house now. This house it not safe and no one should have to go through anything that Richard Ho
