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This section of Leyna's Corner contains some short
stories in the horror genre.
Everybody enjoys a good scare, don't
they ?
Well, if they don't this is not the place to be. Here we'll just
gather around the bonfire and see who can tell the most scaring story.
So pull your blanket closer around you and grab the hand of your neighbour.
Not to seek comfort. You don't need that, but the other guy does!!!
The Closet
The Voices
Don't turn the
light out
Cat's eyes
The house on Moon Street
He sat straight up in bed awakened by his own scream. His bed was all messed up, and his bedclothes were damp. Sweat stood out on his forehead and his eyes were a study in terror. He held his breath, listening. Nothing. No footsteps outside his bedroom door. His mother hadn't heard anything. Good. He didn't want her to ask any questions. She had heard him before and then she came rushing into his bedroom, her white nightgown flapping ghost-like around her. That scared him too.
The dream or rather the nightmare had haunted him for the last three months. ever since David died. David, who was four years older than him and very tough. David, who knew the ways of the world. David, who died only sixteen years of age. How could he die ? Death was for the old ones. David was only a kid - And he died anyway. Why ?
Ben wondered a lot about it, but nobody would tell him anything. "Spare the kid", they said and they all shut up and he didn't quite dare asking.
His mother told him that David died in an accident. "What kind of accident?", Ben was about to ask, but he saw the grief on his mother's face and said nothing. Was he killed in a carcrash ? Or maybe a hit and run ? He might also have been murdered by some loony. Ben became obsessed with the idea, that his brother had been murdered. But not by some crazy guy. Oh no. He was killed by the thing in the closet.
Actually, Ben was too old to believe in the bogey man, but there was something in the closet. He was sure of it. And that was what his nightmares were all about. The killer-thing in the closet.
He hadn't had such ideas before, not until he started hearing the voice. David's voice. It spoke to him at night, just before he fell asleep. In the beginning he had found it comforting to know that David was still around, but the things he said were very upsetting. Ben, who had noone else to ask, would ask David why and how he died. Kids were not supposed to die. David had laughed. Not a pleasant laughter, but one full of bitterness and almost hysterical. "You know, kiddo", he had said, "There are always some monsters in the dark. In the closet, behind the door or even under the bed. And they're all out to get you and eventually they will. That's what happened to me. The monsters got me."
Then the nightmares about the thing in the closet started. Ben hadn't believed in monsters before, but now David had told him that they were real. And David should know.
He couldn't tell anybody about it. That would send him directly to the looney-bin. He couldn't say, " Hey Ma', There's a monster lurking in the darkness of the closet. Would you please make it go away ? And by the way, it's the same monster that killed David, so if you get rid of it, would you tell him to shut up ?" No, he couldn't say that.
So he had to handle it himself, but he was scared. He talked to David about it. "If it's a monster, it can be killed", he said. "They always get the monster in the movies." David had laughed out loud at that. "Oh, Bennie-boy. This isn't the movies. These monsters never fail. They always get you in the end. And if you kill one....well, then there's another and another and another....They'll get you alright. In the end they always do."
Ben was alright as long as the lights were on, but in the darkness he could hear the closet door creak open and he could catch a glimpse of a slightly darker shape inside. But yet it was only a glimpse, because the door only opened an inch. Nevertheless he woke up choking on his own screams every night and it had begun to bother him.
The fact that the closet door opened a bit more every night was what scared him the most. He didn't really want to see what might be lurking in there. He might find the thing familiar, and it would get him in the end. David said so. Eventually it would get him.
Ben laid down again. "It was just a nightmare, you silly crybaby", he told himself. "you're not a sissy. Now go back to sleep." So he did, and the closet door flew wide open, and the face of the thing was David's face. He grabbed Ben and pulled him into the closet. Into the darkness where the monsters live. Because, in the end the monsters get you. They always do.
She looked back over her shoulder to make sure that no one was following her. She realized that she was much too old to believe in the boogeyman, but how else could she explain what had happened to her the last few weeks. It was broad daylight now, and nothing ever seemed to happen during the day, but she had to make sure anyway.
She could see the house now, and that alone made her heartbeat slow a little and her breathing became easier. Funny how you can work up a fantasy, she thought. Only, she didn't really believe that a fantasy was all it was. As the door closed behind her, she relaxed. Actually it was more like collapsing. She was exhausted. Fear surely taps your energy, and she had been frighten for a long time now.
She couldn't recall when all of this started. It seemed as if it has gone on forever, but it has intensified over the last couple of months. She heard voices. It didn't sound very frightning, but it was the stuff they were saying that scared the crap out of her. At first the voice of an old man, that's what it sounded like anyway, called her late at night, just before she fell asleep. He just called her name. "Lisa". Low and husky, and Lisa got the chills. She didn't know if he wanted anything, and at first she just stiffened and waited for him to go away. She didn't show her fear, but it was as if he knew that he scared her. That seemed to please him. Later on he whispered things like, :"I'm waiting for you; Lisa" and "I'm gonna get you. I'll be right behind you whereever you go." It was so spooky. Especially since she could feel his precsence. She could smell him although she couldn't describe the smell. He was the first. Another voices joined in after a while. A young woman with a voice like an angel, but a very foul language. The voice was so soft and gentle that it almost made you want to cry, but the thing she said was so scary that Lisa couldn't even allow herself to think about it. She could also feel and smell the female. Another smell, but just as hard to describe.
She never mistook any of them for the other, even before they started speaking to her. She always knew which one was there. Now there was five different voices, and all of them seemed to hate for for some reason, and they all wanted to hurt her. They threathen her every single night, and today she felt the presence of one of them, a young boy, during schoolday. She was sitting in the class-room when she suddenly felt the boy. He didn't speak to her, but she could almost feel him looking over her shoulder. And then her book open all by itself and words started to come up. She saw no hand or pencil, but she could read the words. "Beware Lisa. We'll be with you soon now." That was all. He was gone as sudden as he came, but Lisa couldn't shake the creepy feeling of being watched.
That night the old man came again. Lisa had had about all she could take. She was frightened to the egde of sanity and then she started talking to him. "Why me? What have I ever done to you?" The voice was silent for a moment and if she hadn't been able to feel him, she would have sweared that he was gone. "You know." That was all he said, and then he was gone too. Lisa kept thinking about it. What do I know ? What is their secret ? But she just couldn't come up with any answers. Besides she was starting to doubt her own jugdement. Hearing voices....Wasn't that supposed to be linked to insanity ? She was quite sure that she had read about it someplace, and now she heard voices! Did that mean that she was insane ? Or was she having a mental break down ? She didn't think so. She felt perfectly happy in her everyday, if it wasn't for the voices that kept haunting her.
On the day before her 16th birthday she made up her mind to do something about the voices. She had been hearing them for almost 6 months now, although she hadn't seen anybody. She decided that it was time for her to face her enemies. That was the way she had come to think of them, as her enemies. That night she waited along time for the voices to come. It was as if all of a sudden they had become reluctant. Lisa smelled them though. All at once she smelled the old man. The first one to encounter her. The small was stronger than ever, and before he spoke, Lisa address him. Feeling a bit stupid talking into thin air, but nevertheless determinded to go through with it. "I want you to show yourself. You're acting so tough scaring me half to death and then you won't even let me see your face. That's what I call a coward." Lisa was very proud of herself, because she was almost peeing her panties and still she managed to keep her voice steady. No trembleling. The voice answered her : "You know. You'll be seeing us soon enough, but it'll be the death of you. You know that, don't you ?" Lisa thought she could hear a little insecurity in the voice, but she wasn't really convinced. "I want to see your face, and I don't believe you can harm me. If you could you already would have. You just don't have the power to hurt me." The voice sounded angry now. "Don't mess with us; Lisa. You're no match for us. We can kill you anytime. We follow your every move and we can harm you. We'll be coming for you very soon now. Very soon." The voice faded on the last words and then it was gone. So was the smell. Lisa had to go to the bathroom to release herself. She didn't know how she had come up with the courage to challange the voice, but she was so sick and tired of being scared, that anything else had to be better. It just had to. Also, her mother was starting to getting nosy about her sleeping habits. Lisa often had large dark circles around her eyes, and of course her mom had to notice sometime.
That night she dreamed about her grandmother, who died 10 years earlier. Her granny came to her and said :"Lisa dear, remember what I told you. If you just remember you'll be home free." The dream image started to flow away and Lisa chased it. "Granny, please help me. What it is I need to remember? Please, tell me!" But the image just floated away and Lisa woke up.
She had a blast of a day. Everybody she knew came over to wish her happy birthday, and Lisa had almost forgot all about voices and strange dreams when she finally got to go to bed that night. But then all of a sudden she smelled the presence of those who owned the voices. The room had been totally dark, but now she could made out at least tre figures in the corner. One male, one female and the third a child. Her heart started to beat faster. And this time she did pee her pants. She was scared beyond sanity and she could only stare as the three figures became clearer. They grinned at her. "We're here to get you, Lisa." said the old man, who didn't look like an old man. He had no face. Just a blurry spot where it should have been. The boy laughed. A vicious laughter that kids really master, and Lisa felt the skin on her body begin to freeze. And then as she thought that this was the end, she remembered something that her Granny had told her a long time ago. "You're special, Lisa. You'll see and experience things that are not meant for any humans to see. You'll know things that you're not supposed to know. You'll be in danger if you do not learn to control your skills. If you ever get in trouble, just walk away. You've got the power to do that." "I can send you back" she said to the figures. She was amazed that she said that, but she knew it was true. She knew it from their flinching at her words. "I can master you if I want to. That's why you're afraid of me!" The figures grew dimmer as she spoke. "I want you to go back where you came from and never ever return again. I spellbind you with all my strenght." The figures moaned and the little boy screamed, mostly in anger, and then they were gone.
"Noting is really hard to handle as long as you remember that you're special", Lisa thought. "As long as you believe you can doit, then you can." She felt extremely satisfied and soon she was sound asleep. No more voices in her life.
As I sit here by my desk, I can almost hear the darkness creeping in on me. I hit the lights and pull the drapes. I have come to hate the darkness. I guess that's one of the reasons that I'm here, and not in jail. Let me tell you right away, I'm commited to the Looney bin. There....I've said it. Now you probably won't believe me, but you should listen to my story anyway, cause the reason I'm here is that I reacted just like you. I didn't believe.
It all started about a year ago. Adam was 4 years old. Oh my, just the thought of him brings tears to my eyes. Why didn't I listen to him ? Why didn't I see the danger ? But that's of no use now. Adam was 4 and like so many other kids his age he was suffering from nightmares. At least that's what I thought at the time. He woke me up almost every night because he was screaming and rushed to his room every time and assured him, that it was just a dream, and dreams can't hurt anybody. Boy, how I was wrong!
Adam tried to tell me om several occasions, that when the lights were out a path straight down to Hell opened up right under his bed, and his father send evil monsters up to get him. Adam's father dissapeared when Adam was three. He was extremely violent, and I do believe that he was a very sick man. He had these "visions" of starting a new world order, with Satan as the allmighty ruler. In the beginning I believed he was joking. You know, like men sometimes brag that they'll be the president some day....stuff like that. I didn't take it seriously. He did start to treat me bad though, and I was so scared that he would hurt Adam too, so I moved to my mother. I didn't bring anything from our home, but Adam, but neither did my husband. when I went back a month later to collect some of my personal stuff, my husband was gone, and we haven't seen him since. Or I haven't seen him since then. Adam kept telling me that his father was there at night when the lights were out, and I just took it for a nightmare. Now I'm not so sure.....I'm not sure at all.
The nightmares continued for a few months. On and off. Nothing was wrong if I left the light on, but if I turned it out after Adam had fallen asleep, I could be sure that he would wake me later. I didn't find the solution would be to leave the light burning, so I sent Adam to a doctor. Yeah, that kind of doctor, and he told me, that Adam was perfectly normal, but had a very vivid imagination. He sugessted that I made it clear for Adam, that his dreams couldn't hurt him, and I should absolutely NOT leave the light on.
You tend to do as the doctor say, so I turned out the light every night I came in to calm down my son later on. That lasted four weeks. The last of the fourth week, something strange happened. when I came into Adam's room to turn on the light, I saw a dark red glow. It was there just a split second until I hit the light switch. I remember I wondered about it, but mostly I wondered about the strange marks around Adam's ankle. It looked exactly like a burnmark, but it was the shape of a hand, or rather a claw. How on earth could he have gotten that. I asked him of course, but he just said, that it was where the monster had grabbed him. At that moment I started to lose my patience with him. why couldn't he be like other kids ? Why couldn't he just sleep at night ? And what would the monster do to him anyway ? I asked him that last question, and he replied : "It'll take me to where daddy is". He was so sincere that I couldn't help feeling very sorry for him. On the other hand I really wanted this straighted out now, once and for all, so I asked him how he knew that. "I hear daddy's voice sometimes", he said."He says he'll be coming for me. That he'll get me and raise me so I can rule his empire when I grow up. He says he'll come for you too. Later." That kinda knocked me off my feet. I was afraid that Darryl, my ex-husband might return someday, and now the boy told me that he would. I started sweating then. I got as scared as Adam was. That night I left the light on for the rest of the night. Not just in his room either.
The next morning I had gotten my sences back. I was after all a grown woman. I would not let a child's nightmares rule my life. And as for leaving the lights on, now we had to get past that. I was so determined. I had taken a stand and was pretty proud of myself. After all, his "stories" had scared me too.
That night I turned out the light all over the house before I went to bed. I checked on Adam before I went to my own bedroom, and he was sound asleep then. I smiled to myself. That was the last good look I got of my son.
Two hours later his screaming woke me up. It was worse than ever, and even though I had decided to let him just live it out, I couldn't stand it after a few minutes. I rushed to his room, and as I opened the door I got a glimpse of the red glow. Adam was being dragged in under the bed, and he was screaming at the top of his lungs. I hit the lights and everything turned normal, except.... Adam wasn't there anymore.
I don't remember much of what happened later. I was totally shocked. I believe a neighbour had called the police, cause they arrived later that night. I don't recall what I said to them, or where I spent the next few nights, but I DO remember that they questioned me about Adam's dissapearance. They thought I killed him. And in a way you could say that I did. I didn't listen when he begged for my help.
Now I'm here at the "Happy Farm". I'm emotionally unstable. At least that's what they say, and therefor they can't charge me for murder. I miss Adam. I loved my son and I would never do anything to harm him, but noone believe me, and I guess if someone told me that story I wouldn't believe it either. Every word is true though, and I fear the coming of the dark every night. I can almost hear Darryl's voice : "You're next Eve. You're next" So believe me or not. I don't care if you think I'm insane, as long as you don't turn the light out.....Whatever you do....Don't turn the light out.
I first met my grandmother when I was 11 years old. She was
my father's mother. My father never talked much about her. I guess he was
ashamed somehow. And I must admit, granny was strange. It was my mother's
wish to meet her mother-in-law. As far as I knew they had never met before.
Not even to the wedding. I found this rather odd, but then again when I
met her I had some understanding for my father's actions.
Her house looked quite normal. Like any other house on
the street. And even though the inside was a bit darker than I was used
to, it didn't strike me as strange at all. It was, after all, an old woman's
home. The strange things began to happen when I tried to shake hands with
granny. I'd been told to behave myself and I behaved the best I could,
and shaking hands were part of good manners. At least that's what I've
been taught. Granny yanked her hand back as if my touch were venomous.
Her eyes widened in what looked like shear panic and she stared at me for
a second and then turned her back.
I don't remember the rest of that visit. Only this strange meeting. I met her once more and that was strictly because I believed that she was dying or seriously ill. She asked me to come to her, and I felt I owed her something. She was my grandmother after all. But that was 12 years later.
As I've already said, my father never talked a lot about his mom, but after the visit I remember he did tell me something. He told me that he grew up with a mother who believed in ghosts and goblins. His father was unknown to him, and there was never another man in the house. His mom did have her friends over though, but they were all weird. That's the way he put it. He told me that his mother's strange behavior weren't something new. She had allways been that way, but she were a nice person just the same. He asked me not to be too hard on her. My father never said it out loud, but I felt that he thought that she was utterly insane, but quite harmless. He was ashamed of himself for this feeling as he were convinced that "Thee shall honor thy father and mother".
My childhood was mostly eventless. I was a happy child although I was kinda lonely. I was quiet and shy, and therefor I had a hard time making friends. It didn't bother me too much as I had one hell of a imagination and imaginary friends were my speciality.
I never took any real interest in boys. I did look from time to time, but noone ever broke my heart. I went through my teenage years without any idea what love was all about.
Then at the age of 23 I met Alan. We worked at the same office and I fell helplessly in love with him from the first moment I laid eyes on him. I can't explain what happened. It was just....destiny. I can't describe it any other way. He was tall and dark, but not really handsome. In other eyes than mine he was just an ordinary guy. Not handsome and not ugly. To me he was the most beautyfull person I had ever seen, and when he asked me out the first time, I thought I would faint. I couldn't believe he was interested in me.
Alan taught me what love really means. Not the physical part though. He was a real gentleman. He made me happy and I wanted to share my happiness with the rest of the world, but Alan didn't want us to be together in any public places. At least not with anyone we knew. I didn't object to that. He just wanted me to himself, I found that so romantic.
I had been seeing Alan for 2 months when I recieved a
letter from Granny.
It was short and upsetting. She wrote :
"Susan !
I have to see you right away.
It's a matter of life and death.
I expect you monday.
Don't tell anyone.
Granny "
That was it. Just a note. I wondered a lot about that, and I came to the conclusion that she might suffer from some terminal illness and wanted to see her only grandchild before it was too late. As I've always obeyed the older generation, I didn't tell anyone about the visit. Not even my parents. I wasn't talking a lot to my parents anyway after I found Alan. He took up most of my time, and my parents kept bugging me because they hadn't met him yet. They started to get on my nerves. They would meet Alan when he was ready to meet them. So I never told a soul about the letter.
Monday afternoon after work I went directly to Granny's house. Fortunally Alan had a few errands that day and we hadn't made any plans for this afternoon. I knew that he would come around later in the evening, so I had a few hours to myself. Seeing the house again after so many years were rather strange. It was like it had shrunk over the years. I remembered a big and somehow scarry house, but this was just a small house, looking just like any other house on the street. My hands were sweaty as I reached to ring the bell. I was nervous. This place gave me the chills, and I couldn't understand why. I never got to ring the bell. As I stood there reaching for the door was swept open and there was my grandmother on the other side. She startled me and I gasped. Opening the door like that, as if you've been watching everything from just behind it, were a sure way to scare people of. The really scary thing here was, that there were no windows beside the door, and the door itself were solid. So how did she know I was here ?
"Come in", she said and that was all the greetings I
got from her. Not "Hello Susan. How have you been?" Just those two words,
and then she turned her back to me and let me into the living room. It
was still rather dark, and there was a funny smell. Not like old people
sometimes smell. More like something that has been dead for a long time
and have dried up.
She sat in a chair and gestured for me to sit in another
right in front of it.
So I sat. I hadn't spoken a word yet. My heart were still
beating wildly from the surprise at the door. I did study Granny though.
She didn't look a day older than I remembered her, and she certainly didn't
look sick. She returned my stare and I lowered my gaze.
"There's no reason to be shy, girl. After all we are
relatives. Even though your father doesn't like me a lot and we don't see
each other much. You've become a beautyfull woman, Susan."
I could feel myself blushing. I didn't expect compliments
from her, and thinking about it later on, I don't think she meant it that
way. She just stated a fact. She might as well had said that the weather
had been perfect lately. She wasn't smooth talking me. I still couldn't
think of anything to say, so I just mumbled a nonsense answer.
"Give me your hands, girl", she said and reached out
with both of hers.
Remembering her reaction to my touch the last time I
saw her, I finally found my voice.
"Why?"
"I want to see"
"See what ?"
I didn't want her to touch me. I was scared of her.
"I want to see if it's too late. Come on. Don't be afraid.
I won't harm you."
Her voice became persuasive, and I couldn't help it.
I reached out to her.
Her touch was warm and dry, but at first touch it was
like getting n electrical chock. Not painfull, but enough to make me draw
back. She kept the grip though, and then she closed her eyes. It felt like
pure energy floated between us. It was a strange feeling. I thought she
wanted to read my palm or something like that, but she never even looked
at my hands.
Finally she spoke.
"There's still time. It's running short though. You must
beware of the cat's eyes. It's very dangerous. You'll have to....."
She broke of and let go of my hands as if they were dangerous
to touch. Her eyes flew wide open, and she looked terrified.
"What ?" I asked. I was totally confused, but also very
scared. She looked as if she had just seen her own death. And maybe she
had. She scared the living shit out of me. I was shaking uncontrolably.
"I see no more. Go." She said. "Leave this house."
She stood up and almost pushed me out the door. Just
before she slammed it behind me, I heard her whisper : "The cat's eyes.
Beware of the cat's eyes." Then the lock clicked and I heard the safety chain
rattle. I was so scared, and I don't remember how I got home.
Later that evening Alan came over. He noticed how upset I was, and I told him the whole story. I even showed him the short letter. He comforted me the best he could, and convinced me that the old woman was senile and didn't know what she was saying. And hadn't my own father told me that the woman was nuts ? As always Alan made me feel better and after a while I begun to relax. We spent a cozy evening together and even though I would not have objected to him staying the night, he went home to his own place.
I told my father about the visit a few days later, but
I couldn't find the letter to prove any of it. He seemed to believe me
though, but he didn't take her words for gibberish as Alan had said they
were. He frowned and remarked that she had never acted that strange before.
Maybe he should pay her a visit. she might be really sick. I told him that
she didn't look sick, but he decided to see her anyway.
He went to her house saturday and found her dead in her
chair. He was silent when he returned. He just said that she was dead,
so she must have been sick after all. He didn't look like he thought so
though.
I felt sort of guilty about my grandmother's death and
Alan comforted me.
He was there for me when I needed him. He always seemed
to know how I felt, and he always amnaged to make me feel better. I was
sure that he was the only one for me.
We got married 3 months after we started seeing each other. Alan was so romantic. We didn't have a big wedding, as I had kinda dreamed of as a kid. We eloped. I found that so appealing. It was like a romantic dream, where no one but Alan and I were involved. It was his idea, and I agreed at once. We went to Vegas and got married and suddenly I was Mrs Videl. Now Alan showed me what physical love was about and he was a wonderful and considerate lover. Everything was perfect. He invited me on honeymoon, and we were gone 2 months. Alan was quite well off, so we didn't have to worry about the money. He even made me quit my job. As he said, it was his job to support me now, and I just went along with it. When we returned from our honeymoon, Alan had bought us a brand new house. I didn't know about this and was surprised, but as he said, it wouldn't be right to start our life together in one of our appartments. We should built something together. It couln't get any better than this. At least that was what I felt then, but then I got pregnant. Alan was thrilled, and so was I. Now we could really start our very own family.
I had to contact my parents to tell them the good news. They knew that I had quit my job and went away with Alan, but they didn't know about the wedding and certainly not about the baby. And they still hadn't met Alan. I thought this would be the perfect time, so I called them, told them the good news and asked them to come visit us. I told Alan all of this and at first he looked a little disappointed. When I asked him what the problem was, he just said that he wished I would have discussed it with him. Then he smiled and asked me when they were coming. I told him that they would arrive friday. It was wednesday night. "I look forward to meeting them" he said and smiled again. The smile didn't touch his eyes. It looked phoney.
Thursday night I had the first nightmare. I dreamed that my parents were on their way to see us. Smiling and joking in the car and then all of a sudden my dad looked ill. His eyes bulged out of their sockets and my mom screamed. The car smashed head first into a rockwall and everything was blood red. Then I woke. A scream still caught in my throath and that was when I saw the eyes. Glowing eyes in the darkness. Cat's eyes. There, and gone in a split second and then Alan was there holding me, giving comfort and making me relax. A nightmare, he told me. Just a nightmare.
My parents didn't arrive the next day. Instead two police officers came by to inform me, that there had been an accident. I just saw the two police men and then darkness swept over me. I fainted.
When I woke up, Alan was there. As always he gave me comfort. He helped me get through the next couple of months, and I didn't know what I should have done without him. My love for him grew every day, and although the loss of my parents hurted me a lot I still considered myself lucky. I still Had Alan, and I was going to have his baby. I was a fortunate woman.
I frequently had nightmares as the time of birth drew nearer. I didn't feel to good either. I had a constant pain in my back and I got tired just getting out of bed. I often awoke in the middle of the night from some terrible dream of which I couldn't recall anything. Every time I saw the eyes glowing in the dark and I remembered my granny's words. "Beware of the cat's eyes." But what did it mean ? Wasn't it just a part of the nightmare ? My imagination running wild ? Alan was there to tell me it was. He convinced me, that I was just nervous about being a mother, and it was perfectly normal. As much as I loved him and believed in him I couldn'r shake the feeling of something bad coming up. I was scared, and it wasn't about giving birth. It was something else, and I didn't know what. I only knew that it involved a cat's eyes.
One night I woke up from another of those nightmares and were in terrible pain. Alan was awake at once and I told him that it was time. He jumped out of bed, got everything ready and had me in the car in less than 5 minutes. We reached the hospital 10 minutes later and I was in such pain that I didn't notice much. I was on the egde of unconsciousness and the last thing I saw were Alan looking at me. "I'll take care of him", he said and smiled a strange smile. I suddenly remembered my nightmares and I screamed. Then darkness swept over me.
Everybody at the hospital remembered the little baby boy born that night. It was the most beautyfull child they had ever seen. So they all said. Nobody remembered the name of any of the parents though, and nobody could recollect what the parents looked like. Except one nurse. She remembered both the little boy AND the father who took him away. She didn't like the boy. He was beautyfull alright, but he felt different somehow. She never said anything to anybody about this, but she found this child evil. Maybe it was because he had cat's eyes. Yellow/green cat's eyes. Just like his father.
He had been fascinated by the house ever since the age of seven, when he started to walk by it every day on his way to school. Maybe it was because the first time he ever laid eyes on it, it had seemed to be a haunted house. Old and worn out and the garden all overgrown with weeds. He had seen this out of the corner of his eye, and as he had turned his head to get a better look, he saw that he was mistaking. The house was weel kept. No peeling paint or loose porch boards and the lawn was so well mowed it looked like a golf court. Just inside the white garden fence was a brand new sign, at least it seemed like it was put up just yesterday. Fresh painted and all. It read "FOR SALE". All this happend almost 5 years ago, as he made his first walk up Moon Street, on his way to school. He had dismissed his first impression of the house as an illusion, and blamed it on his own anxity. Nevertheless the house seemed to have some kind of magical spell over him. He couldn't help staring at it each and every day as he walked by, and although it scared him, he knew that he would some day overcome his fear of the place and satisfy his curiousity. He simply had to have a peak inside that particular house. He had to know who lived there, what they looked liked and so on and so forth. He had never had such an urge to know before, but there was something about this house....Something that made his heart pump faster in fear, and something that beckoned him to come have a closer look.
At the age of 12 he had finally worked up the courage, or worked up an imbearable curiosity, to take a closer look. As he walked home from school a sunny afternoon in August he stopped in front of the house. There was something strange about it. He was sure of that. The "FOR SALE" sign looked as new as five years ago, and he guessed it could be a replacement. Only he felt it was the same sign. Of course, he told himself, that was downright foolish, but he couldn't shake the feeling. Another strange thing. He had never seen any people in or around the house. It was as it has been empty for all those years, but that couldn't be. Not as well maintained as it was. Still he was puzzled. He had met all the other residents in the area, and he knew some of them by name. Mr. Jackson for example. He lived just across the street from the house, and he usually stopped to have a little chat with the old man. He liked old people, and the feeling seemed to be mutual. Once he had asked Mr. Jackson if he knew who lived in the house across the street. "Of course", Mr. Jackson had replied."That's the Prissit's place." "Have you ever seen them?", he couldn't help asking. Mr Jackson looked puzzled for a moment and then frowned. "I've seen them many times, but never spoken to them. They keep mostly to themselves. They mind their own buisness, and that's what you should do, Johnnie." Mr. Jackson didn't really sound angry, but he found it wisest not to pursue the subject any further. The look on Mr. Jackson's face had been strange and almost dazed, like he was saying a phrase he had memorized by heart.
As he stood there looking at the
house he began to tremble lightly. The day was warm enough, but he felt
icy inside. He could feel his heart speed up, but he took no notice. Today
he was going to have a closer look at the house. No more foolishness. The
worst thing that could happen was that the inhabitants would discover him
and shoo him away. Wasn't it ? Of course it was, he told himself, and opened
the the small garden gate. It didn't even creek, but swung smootly as on
well oiled hinges.
He sneeked around the house to
get a peak inside by one of the lower windows. At the back of the house
he found just the right window. It was hard to see anything though, as
the sun only made the window into a mirror sending his own reflection right
back at him. He cupped his hands around his face and held it up to the
glass. He saw a living room. He could see a couch, a low coffe table and
two comfartable looking armchairs. All looked brand new and the room, at
least as much as he could see of it, looked clean and very cozy.
He walked all around the house
to see if there were other windows he could peek in, but he found none.
The other windows were closed tight by blinds. At the front however he
noticed that the door had a fan shaped window. He might just be able to
look into the hall if he stood on his toes. He looked around to make sure
he wasn't noticed by anyone, but Moon Street was quite this afternoon.
As he stepped up on the porch he felt the curioisity grew stronger. He
had to see. He hurried to the door, stood on his toes, and again he cupped
his hands around his face to get a better wiev. As he touched the glass
in the door, it swung ajar. He almost screamed. His heart leaped in his
chest and his skin broke out in gooseflesh. He froze for a moment, while
he looked at the dark inside the door. It was as if the house welcomed
him, asked him to step inside. His paralysis broke and he turned around
as quick as lightning and ran like the wind. He stopped briefly at the
other side of the street and looked over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't
followed by someone. Or something, his mind insisted, but he paid no attention
to that little voice. Moon Street was as quiet as ever. No one in sight,
and the house looked the same as ever. But the door was closed now. Not
the smallest crack was visible. The door was closed tightly. Had he imagined
it ? He could hardly believe it, but there was absolutely no wind that
could have made the door swing shut again, so what was going on here ?
He felt terror creeping up his back and decided that enough was enough.
He ran all the way home.
That night he dreamed of the house. He peeked in the window again and again, and there was something strangely familiar with the living room inside, but he could grasp what it was. Something he should have seen. The answer was in his mind but just beyond his grasp and the more he tried to reach for it, the further it fled.
The next day he made up his mind that it was just his imagination that had played a trick on him. There had been no opening of any door and the house was just a house after all. To prove it to himself he would go there again. After all he wasn't a baby anymore, and Mr. Jackson knew the people who lived there. He would simply go up to the frontdoor, ring the bell and introduce himself to the family with the odd name.... What had it been ??? Pritts ? Trisp ? He couldn't recall the name. He only remembered that it was different somehow.
That afternoon it felt like Deja
Vue. He looked over at the house from the other side of the street, and
felt his skin grow cold and his heart speed up. "Calm down", he told himself.
There wasn't anything to justify this terror that washed over him. The
what-ever-the-name-was was most likely nice people, and besides their house
were for sale, so they must be used to people looking at their house curiously.
He had even prepared a little speech about how his parents were looking
for a house just like this and how he would love to surprise them by being
the one to say he had found the right place, and could he come in for a
moment to have a quick look around ? He considered this a pretty smart
move, and was rather proud of himself. he gathered all his courage and
walked strraight up to the front door. There was no door bell. He frowned.
All houses had door bells, didn't they ? Well, not this one it seemed.
He would just have to knock. He raised his hand to do just so, and discovered
he was afraid to touch the wooden door. He slowly lowered his hand again,
and felt a strong urge to get the hell out of there, to run for his life.....
"You're being very silly", he muttered
to himself. "Very silly indeed." He raised his hand again and rapped lightly
on the door. It swung open. His breath stopped, caught in his throath,
and just like yesterday he simply froze. There were no sounds from the
inside. No sign that anyone had heard his knocking. He gazed at the darkness
inside. He reckoned that since the door was unlocked someone must be in
there, so he broke the paralysis and pushed the door all the way open.
No more fooling around. He had come to see this house, and this was it.
He stepped inside. "Hello", he croaked, his voice not much more than a
whisper. He cleared his throath. "Hello, is anybody here ?" This time a
little louder and a bit more confident. The house was silent. "I've come
to see the house", he called out. Still just silence. He looked around.
The hall looked familiar somehow. He was sure he had never been in a hall
like this before, and then again....There was something. He walked over
to the first door on the right and entered the living room he had seen
from the outside. An odd feeling swept over him. There was something familiar
with this room too. As if he had seen it before. Not just yesterday, but
had seen it millions of times. He looked around the room. Not much more
furniture than he had seen from the outside. There was a bookshelf at the
far wall, and that was it. A couch, a coffe table, two armchairs and a
bookshelf all very neat and well kept. Like something you saw in a show
room. That was it. It didn't look like a place where people actually lived,
but like a show room. A stage set. The front door swung violently shut.
The bang made the house shake. He suddenly felt cold all over. "Hello",
he cried."Is anybody here?" "Johnnie", a voice sighed in a whispery
voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. "We've been waiting
for you, Johnnie. Waiting a looooong time" And then there was laughter.
Evil, scary laughter, and as the house started to darken as if some lights
were turned all the way down, he suddenly understood a lot of things, and
he remembered the name of those who were supposed to live here. The Prissit.
Or the Spirits if you rearranged the letters. He understood that his first
impression of the house had been fully correct and that the face it showed
to the world were only a stage set. He also suddenly knew how this was
possible. The house called out to people with some physich energy and when
they entered it just sucked the life energy out of them, like some kind
of vampire, to feed itself and to be able to maintain it's facade.
All this came to him in a single flash as the room grew darker and the
last thing he ever heard was his own scream ringing in his ears.