By Indu Kumar
There it was again a faint scratching sound It was coming from the loose floor boards. Brandon tried to ignore it. A stray cat maybe, made a home here to seek shelter from the outside cold. How many more unwelcome tenants lived down there.
“Tap tap tap” a different sound now, more intense and powerful this time.
Brandon looked up and stared at the wall in front, faded with age, plaster peeling off, modestly trying and failing to keep the wall covered but refusing to surrender. Most of it was flaky and revealed the brickwork. The ceiling was worse with longer bits of plaster hanging some defying gravity.
Was there another room they had not mentioned to him? Was someone in the next room?
Cautious and guarded he cupped his ear to the wall. The surface felt rough and cold He could see some odd shaped wet patches of varying shapes. The ones where the wall met the ceiling were larger patches holding water droplets. Other areas were completely wet and dripping. He touched the wall. The plaster peeled off easily in his hands to reveal more brickwork. One or two of the bricks seemed to feel loose. A tentative gentle push and he heard a thud and revealed a small opening in the wall. He peered through it and saw nothing! It was pitch dark. “Wish I’d brought my torch” he muttered to himself.
His attention turned to the rest of the room.
There were lots of pictures on the wall covering almost all of it. Daniel wished he had read the history of the property. They were mostly family portraits. A farmhouse with sheep grazing in the field pigs in a sty. In the distance you could see horse riders galloping. Perhaps the family who lived here. He moved away but something made him turn round. He had a strange feeling Was it his imagination but it seemed like their eyes were following him wherever he moved in the room. Feeling very uncomfortable he turned away and felt a chill down his spine.
He heard no voices but the tapping continued . Brandon looked more closely a the wall. Fingers stroking his beard he frowned. That was strange. There seemed to be a connecting door which he hadn’t noticed before. It was a dilapidated crooked old wooden door. The hinges looked rusty and almost giving up on holding it together. He looked around for something to use to prize it open. Disappointingly he found nothing .
Using all his weight he pushed the door with both hands. Nothing happened. He tried using his body to shove against it. To no avail!
“Wish I had a truncheon like the cops at dawn raids” he mused.
………..
“You will not be disturbed here Mr Jones” the agent had told him earlier. “Nobody will bother you.”
Brandon needed this week to himself. His publisher had given him a deadline and this was a cut throat competition and he needed to pay the bills.
“Sorry there are no cabins left” was the disappointing message the agent had first said without lifting his face from the register.
Just then the agents wife joined them at the table. “What about the one by the lake” . Even before the words left her the to her shaking his head. He turned away but not before Daniel caught the strange looks they exchanged. He saw him nudging her. He was sure he felt a kick under the table meant for her.
But it was too late.
“I will take it” Brandon jumped in and interrupted. He was desperate. He only needed a few days. He would knuckle down and finish his book. A week at the most. He didn’t want it to be spotless. As long as he had a roof over his head he would ignore everything around him. The lake might even provide him with some inspiration.
And that is all he really got.
The house sat lazily along the still eerily quiet lake. There was no sign of life or movement not even a ripple, no wading ducks nor birds flying overhead. Nature seemed to have given up .The only signs of life were the swaying heavy arms of the aged oak trees as if protecting the house but doing more harm than good. Most of the tiles were the victims of the weather beaten roof and were broken or missing. The overgrown shrubs and thick clinging ivy almost engulfed the house covering most of the widow panes with little daylight. Probably a pretty picture bursting with colour in autumn when nature took over.
He walked down a flagstone path overpowered with weeds . He didn’t flinch and carefully walked over them. The heavy bunch of keys jangled in his hand The rusty keys rattled as he struggled to find the right one . Finally he inserted the largest one into the old dilapidated wooden door which looked like it was on its last legs. It wasn’t even aligned properly with big gaps letting draughts in.
The heavy door finally gave in and creaked open. Brandon almost jumped out of his skin when a blast of cold air rushed in and almost blew him back. He heard fluttering and let out a sigh of relief. Bats!
The air smelt stale and the floorboards creaked with every careful step . White linen dust sheets covered most of the furniture in different shapes igniting the imagination. A feeble attempt had been made to clean up a small space for him Well beggars can’t be choosers he accepted!
He must have fallen asleep on the cane chair when something disturbed him. He glanced through the boarded window. Outside darkness had fallen. He had an eerie feeling and shivered.
His eyes went back to the many paintings on the wall. Ones he hadn’t noticed earlier. The one with the little boy with a dog with a couple at the back ground. Another of two young men on horseback galloping in the field
A door creaked. He glanced to the front door. It was still locked .
Then he saw it . The connecting door. It was ajar. Only slightly but ajar. How could that be possible? He had tried earlier and it was closed and wouldn’t budge.
He watched in horror. The door was now opening. Slowly ! Very slowly. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His feet were rooted to the ground.
A white mist like smoke was seeping through the door. It spread in wisps till it got thicker and he could hardly see anything. It filled the whole doorway rising to the flaky walls and ceiling.
Strangely it didn’t smell like smoke It didn’t leave him coughing or spluttering Daniel stretched his arms out and blindly tried to walk to a window bumping into a table and several chairs.
His attention went back to the connecting door. He realised it was now wide open with the smoke billowing out.
He could feel he had reached the far end of the room. He had to get out from here. And fast! Behind him was a wooden cupboard.
Brandon had nowhere to hide. He ran towards the cupboard. Thankfully it was not locked and the door opened easily and jumped in. Holding his breath he tried to crouch into it. He bent his neck and folded his arms and bent his knees and squeezed in.
Through the gap in the door he watched the unearthly scenes unfolding in front of him.
Something sinister was happening. The paintings looked real and almost alive . All eyes were boring into his.
He stared at the little boy who stared back . And then he smiled. A wry smile. Brandon blinked and looked again He had not imagined it. The smile widened The dog now wagged his tail. Brandon stayed still holding his breath and unable to move. He was an author with a vivid imagination but this was real . He watched as the young boy in his jodhpurs and his dog stepped out of the frame. Then one by one they all followed. First the couple behind him. The woman wore a long white dress with a cape around her shoulders and holding a parasol. The man was in brown jodhpurs and riding boots.
A noise drew his attention away from this photograph.The two horses with the young men were getting restless and pulling at the reigns. They then suddenly leapt out with the riders. Towards him ! He cowered to let them pass . There was no need .They rode right through him and were galloping around the room through the chairs tables bed and the cupboard . A proper performance . The riders seemed very experienced with all this .
The little grey dog was happily running around dragging the little boy and prancing about in the room .
Soon all the other paintings also came alive . They all joined in . The room was getting very crowded . And they coming out of the frames .They formed a procession led by the 2 riders . But the most important person seemed to be the little boy with the dog . Everyone was treating him like a Prince , bowing to him whispering blessings . And the boy was lapping it all up . The couple seemed unperturbed by this display.
Then out came the soldiers. An army of them marching in perfect tune to the accompanying band.
Then as suddenly as it started it all stopped . The whole atmosphere changed
The horses stopped galloping . The soldiers stopped in their tracks . All the pomp and ceremony seemed to have evaporated. The little boy restrained the dog with a single command . They all stood still like statues. It was almost like someone had uttered a single magic word.
Brandon turned to the connecting door.
The mist was thick and smoke was bellowing out in spiral wisps.
Something more chilling was going on there .
Suddenly three ghostly figures emerged. Brandon let out a blood curdling scream. They were all covered in long flowing white thin sheets. Their hands were deformed and the fingers had sharp clawed nails. The faces revealed blood shot eyes with gleaning white big teeth. They were waving their arms in a frenzy like a dance, making strange and scary noises . Long pointy black hats covered their heads.
That was only the start . They were followed by more and more of them emerging from the room . All frantically waving their arms about in a frenzy. Something more gruesome happened next. Brandon watched in horror as dark thick red blood came streaming from their black rimmed eyes and flowed out from their big wide mouths .
The ghouls slowly filled the room and seemed to go through the little boy the horses and riders, the soldiers and everything in the room.
They were all heading in one direction . Towards me !
They were now close. Very close All of them. He saw the little boy, the horses the soldiers all marching together again. Brandon had nowhere to hide. He crouched tighter and tighter till he was nearly a ball, numb with fear ,eyes covering his eyes and ears.
With his strength fast dwindling, using every ounce of his strength he kicked one last time . . Suddenly the back of the cupboard gave way. With a superhuman effort Daniel shot out as fast as it was possible . He had to run from this . What was this ? He didn’t care . He had to get away . He ran and ran . Somewhere. Nowhere . Ran into a dark tunnel with no end in sight . He could see nothing . He could hear nothing . Was he being followed ? Would they catch up with him ? Would he make it ?He dare not look back . He kept running . He could feel them closing in . The tunnel was narrowing . He kept running ………into oblivion .
All was quiet in the house by the lake.
The week was up
And Brandon Jones had his best seller!
Author Bio:
I always loved writing since childhood. Wrote stories and poems in school. Life got busy in A&E where I worked as a senior doctor. Plenty of material there to write about ! Took up writing after retirement and joined a creative writing group. Published a short stories book available on Amazon “Every reader counts“.
Like to submit on different websites more for fun and to share my work with other readers. Really enjoy writing!
Contact Author:
Indu Kumar
Email: indukmr7@yahoo.co.uk
