Spirit of the House

The house looked kind of spooky out here in the woods. The wind blew the large branches of the trees at either side of the house, the branches just missed the upstairs bedroom window as they swayed from side to side. It was a gloomy night, and had almost become dark as Camilla Brown pulled up to the front of the house in her old red pick-up truck.

As she walked to the front door she thought she heard footsteps behind her. She turned around quickly, but nobody was there, just the surrounding trees, and an old shed that stood not far from the house. She opened the door, stepping in to the house, she felt a cold shiver run up her spine. The house was dusty, cobwebs hung from the high ceilings, and there was an old musty smell. The house hadn't been lived in for many years, and the look and smell of the place proved the fact. Camilla began to take a tour of the place, the rooms were all in the same conditions, some worse than others, with doors hanging off the hinges, broken windows, the floor boards creaked, she wondered if she had made the right decision coming here.

She choose a small room on the first floor of the house for her room for the night. Hammer and nails in her hand she began to board up the broken window as a temporary measure. She looked through the broken glass out to the front yard and the trees beyond. Camilla could have sworn she saw a shadow in the distance moving from behind one tree to another. She must be paranoid and imagining things she thought as she reached down for the board to cover the window. As she stood up, she told herself not to look out of the window, but she did. Her heart leaped in fright as she saw a figure standing in between two large oak trees, she could barely make out the figure as he wore dark clothing, the light was fading now. The thing that she could see plainly though was what he held in his hand, it glistened in the darkness of the night. He was close enough for her to see the long, wide shape of a knife.

The figure continued to stand there, she knew this was not her imagination. Camilla quickly boarded up the window, she wondered what she was going to do next. She knew she would not get a wink of sleep if she didn't find out if the figure had gone. As she walked downstairs she heard the windows rattle, the doors began to bang so hard she thought they would totally come off their hinges. She shook from head to toe as she got the cold chill down her spine again. Flashlight in her hand she opened the front door.

As she approached the trees where the figure had been standing, she told herself she shouldn't be doing this. Camilla looked behind the trees, there was nobody there, she thought if she moved quickly she wouldn't be as scared. She came to the shed and stood rigid, looking at the door her whole body tensed. Reaching out, she put her hand on the door handle.

"Arghh!" she yelled, dropping the flashlight. Someone had touched her shoulder.
"Don't worry, I won't harm you." the voice said.
But Camilla was in such a panic she didn't hear the voice. She scrambled for the flashlight, grappling in the dark, she finally found it.
"Just stay away from me," she said, nervously.
"I'm not here to harm you, this used to be my parents house."
Camilla shined the flashlight towards the voice. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to warn you,"
"Warn me about what, exactly?" Camilla couldn't control the anger in her voice.
"There's a ghost in the house."
"What? Don't be so silly, a ghost? Who are you anyway?
"I'm Gary Malloy, my parents were killed in this house when I was five-years-old." he paused. They were murdered. The killer hasn't been found to this day."
"I'm sorry," said Camilla. And she genuinely was, but why was a perfect stranger telling her all of this? she wondered.
"So, I came to warn you, because my mother has gone to heaven, but my father just won't let go. He is still here, his spirit is here, he haunts the house. Haven't you been hearing strange noises?"
"Yes, I have, but it's an old house, that is expected."
"Just a warning for you, take care."

After Gary Malloy left she went inside, still confused as to why he would have been holding a knife in the middle of the night, out in the woods. She didn't sleep very well that night. The noises and coldness in the house kept her awake. She got up to make some hot milk to see if that would help her sleep. She dusted down a chair and a table where she sat sipping her milk. She began to enjoy the silence, coming from the city, this was a welcome change. Just as she took another sip of milk she heard a door slam, it sounded as if it were coming form downstairs. It was the front door, she could tell by the loud clanking sound the latch made when it closed. Her hands began to shake, someone was in the house.

Camilla went downstairs, creeping slowly, so as not to let the intruder know she was there. Going from room to room she finally came to a small closet in the hallway. Her whole body shook as she opened the door.

"Arghhh!!!," she screamed, as something,\ or someone fell on top of her.

She pulled herself from underneath whatever had landed on her. Fumbling for the light switch she finally turned the light on. It was some kind of dummy, it looked like a mannequin. She saw what looked like blood on it's face, with slashes all over the body like someone had slashed it with a knife. The dummy had hair the same color as Camilla, blonde and long, or at least some of it was still long, the rest had been hacked off. There was a note around its neck.

Leave here now.
You do not belong here.
Go or you will die.

The note was chilling, she was scared to the bone. Camilla had never experienced anything like this before. But to believe a ghost was capable of doing this was beyond her imaginations. Gary Malloy had said his father was haunting this place, was he right?

Camilla gathered up what little she had brought with her, and headed quickly to her truck. She'd had enough of all the creepy noises, strange sounds, disturbances during the night, and she couldn't get the figure with the knife out of her head. Now this, a mutilated mannequin with the eerie note wrapped around its neck. It was time to leave, she started up the truck. Moving forward she glanced in her rear view mirror. She stiffened as she saw the figure again, standing with the knife, he was directly behind her car. He wore some kind of hoodie, it was hard to see his face. He moved forward, clutching the knife menacingly at her. She accelerated faster, but she still saw him as he revealed his identity, it was him, it was Gary Malloy. He stood grinning eerily at her in the distance.

I guess he got what he wanted, Camilla thought as she was safely out of sight. There was no ghost at all, only Gary Malloy, the orphan boy who had been left behind when his parents were killed. Yes, she believed they were murdered, but there was no ghost at the house. Gary had been trying to get rid of her from the start. He couldn't stand the fact of someone living in what used to be his parents house. No wonder the house had remained empty for years.