Haunted Mansion(short story)

I slipped on my witch costume I had bought a week before. Perfect fit. Oh I'm so sorry. I'm so silly; I did not even introduce myself. Hi I'm Christina. I am 14. Adjusting my hat and tugging at my dress which I was a tad too short, I grabbed my candy bag and rushed out of the door. Ghosts, trolls, ghouls and many more terrifying creatures enveloped me as they chattered excitedly to each other about the candy they were going to receive. You would have guessed by now what day it was. Halloween! Zombies lurked in the shadows, waiting for unexpected victims to frighten. High school Seniors scared their Juniors by jumping out of them. I chuckled to myself as I trudged down Wheelock Lane to meet my trusty companion, Erica. I was itching to find out what costume Erica had pulled off this time. She had managed to look stunning no matter how terrible the character she was impersonating was. But I looked like a tramp in everything. You could say that Erica and I were best friends. We had known each other for about a year now, as I had moved from Greenwich street to Avenue 5.   She was the bleeding scream. She was wearing a scream mask while fake blood spurted out from the top of the mask and trickled down the face. In addition, she was wearing a black robe. It was the most amazing work of art, made of soft velvet as it cascaded down her shoulders with bright fake diamonds and strips of shiny fabric. The perfect example of fashion melded in with Halloween. Who said you can't be fabulous while wearing something utterly ridiculous? Anyways, as I was saying, we had a plan in mind. Well, I had a plan in mind. See, she was extremely scared of ghosts. I had to beg and plead and convince her to even come trick-or-treating with me! Rumour had it that there was an abandoned mansion just three streets down from the Wheelock Lane. My plan, was to bring her in there to figure out what was going on in that mansion. Tales of mystery and suspense, dark forces and all evil of that such was rumoured to be stalking that Mansion. Maybe someone was murdered? Maybe someone had committed suicide? Maybe… It was so puzzling that I decided not to think about it or assume, but to see “it” for myself.

“Hey Erica!!” I said cheerfully, so that she wouldn’t suspect what I was going to do. “Hey Chrissie. You seem to be happy today, too happy… anything going on that I should know about??” She shot me a suspicious look. Darn, she had figured it out. But I decided to keep it a secret anyways. “No, come on. I always tell you what’s on my mind.” She replied, “Okay, where are we going?” I was getting impatient. “Somewhere! Trust me Erica, you would really like it.” I retorted sarcastically. Luckily, she did not denote my sarcasm and thought I was taking her somewhere interesting. Well, interesting for me! Little did I know that this day would be different than how all days end…

I grabbed her hand and we raced down the decorated lane. The children stared at us as we scuttled away with awed looks on their faces. Then again, we were on the track and field team. Needless to say, we were really fast. Maybe they thought we were vampires or something. I blame ‘Twilight’. We turned into the alley way and ran as if our lives depended on it. I was so anxious my legs were tingling. Or maybe it was because I was tired from all the running. Anyways, we reached the abandoned house. It was spooky; there was an unmistakeable evil aura around the house. Either that or I was just imagining stuff. It looked like it was half demolished, weeds all over the place and the untrimmed grass in the lawn made it all the more uninviting. A quote about abandoned houses flashed in my mind, ‘Go oft to the house thy friend, for weed choke the unused path.’ The nape of my neck tingled with fear as I stepped onto the unmowed lawn. Erica was pleading with me not to go in.” Scaredy-cat!” I taunted her. I was going to convince her. It is not every day you get an opportunity like this! She finally gave in, surprisingly. Maybe she realised how much this meant to me. Or she wanted to prove to me that she was not a scaredy-cat. Whatever it was, I was going to take up this chance. A sudden rush of cold air swept past me. There was definitely something wrong with this derelict house. I shivered, apparently Erica felt it too. She shot me a look that I could not decipher. It was something between scared and ‘I am going to faint’. I shrugged and plodded over to the door. I stupidly rang the bell. I realised that there was no one in the house and sniggered. Then again, even if I did ring the bell, it was not like the ghost would say,” Come in! I’m at the kitchen. Want to get killed?” Luckily that thought distracted us from the ominous noise of the door creaking open. Erica would have screamed. Erica and I flinched as the bats flew out, hitting me on the face with their wings. I sighed heavily. It was as If we were in a typical horror movie. Nothing really interesting about that. I switched on a torchlight and lead Erica, who was a pale as a sheet, and skulked towards the basement. “Thump!” We halted in our tracks.” Oh my gosh, what was that?” Erica’s voice was trembling as if she were a shaken bowl of soup. “I don’t know…” Oh no. That doesn’t sound good. A thought just struck me. If either of us does not make it out alive from this house, it would all be my fault. This was actually the stupidest idea I had ever had. I grabbed Erica’s hand and I raced to the door and forced the lock open; to no avail. I rattled the doorknob with much force but the door was locked. I slumped against the door, tears rolling down my cheeks. We were both going to die because of a supernatural force and it was my entirely fault. I never should have brought her here.

“Thump. Thump. Thump.” Oh no, that sounded as if somebody was coming down the stairs. Erica jarred my thoughts by jolting me. She pulled me aside and whispered in my ear. “We will be fine today, I have faith that God will save us from this evil force.” A smile flitted across my face and I squeezed her hand. “He will, he will.” I stood up and got ready to face the horror we were going to encounter that night. I braced myself for the ugliest, menacing and goriest ghost ever. What we saw kind of fell low of my expectations as it rolled towards us, It was an object. I wrinkled my nose as a stench diffused in my nostrils. I inched closer with Erica following closely behind, and shone my torchlight on the unknown object. A decomposing head, a human head. I reeled back in shock as a thought hit me like an arrow to the head. We had to get out of this house before we get decapitated like that unfortunate soul. Beads of sweat trickled down my back as I heard Erica gasp in shock. I had to save my best friend and myself. Even if it meant dying for her. I reached out for her hand but I couldn’t feel it. Fear grasped me and I turned ashen. No, it couldn’t be. No. I did not believe it. Maybe I’m assuming too much. All these thoughts in less than five seconds, my head throbbed. I swivelled around to see Erica with her hands cupping her mouth as she was gaping at something. She slowly pointed at something to my right. I turned and I got a second heart attack. I could feel my heart throbbing. I grasped my chest as if I needed to do that to keep my heart from coming out. Maybe I should have guessed that if the head of that person’s body was there, the torso would have been somewhere else. I was feeling lightheaded , I collapsed in a heap on the damp wood floor as I tried to pull myself together and think of an idea to get as out as fast as I could. I started to sob. My mind was totally blank.

I did not want to make any kind of sound whatsoever lest I awake another supernatural force that seems to thrive in this deluded house. Erica took my hand and we decided to explore the house as quick as we could to comb for a window or a back door that we could escape out of. “Maybe the kitchen had something!” a thought popped in my head. Even if it were a knife. I don’t think any ghost would want to mess with a knife-wielding human being, I thought, my thoughts sagging with sarcasm. It was something at the very least.  I called out in a whisper to Erica who was busy analysing what seemed like an ancient book. She took the old book out and dusted it off, sneezing while doing it. I had no time for this. I grasped her by the shoulder and pulled her sharply towards the kitchen. The kitchen ominously loomed ahead while Erica struggled under my steel grip. She seemed to be reaching out for her book which had fallen when I dragged her away. She would not seem to act like this, especially when we were in grave danger and running out of time, unless there was a purpose. “Erica, what is in that book?” I whispered. She nodded and picked up the book. It was a book about the history of the mansion. “Yes! This is what we need. Maybe it has something we need to know about to get out!” I gave her a quick hug and she giggled. “No problem. Let’s scan through this book, we don’t have much time.” We hurriedly sat on the floor and skimmed through the details in the book.

70 years ago, in the year of 1943, this abandoned house was actually a flourishing home to a rich man and his wife. The Von Traven’s were the richest couple in this district. There were a few black and white pictures which proved how decorative and beautiful this mansion used to look. There were 10 waiters and 10 waitresses at this house to serve their masters. That one day came when the young man who owned the house, Damien Von Traven, had to leave to serve the navy. He departed after saying his good-byes to his wife. There was a picture of his wife in the book. She was gorgeous. Suddenly realisation struck me. Erica realised too. She gasped loudly and stared me up down and looked at the picture. I looked like Charlene Von Traven. We were so similar that it was as if I were an exact photocopy of her features.  I was a bundle of nerves; I stared around wondering if there was a connection between this phenomenon and the haunting in this house. I ignored that errant thought for now and I read on. Erica still could not believe it. Her eyes were wild with curiosity as she stared me up and down. “Woah Chrissie. I can’t believe it. Woah!” she kept saying. I flipped through the book, anticipating other details that may help us in this case.  After three years, Damien returned to his house, waiting to see his elegant wife welcome him at the door. But she was not there. He searched all over the house but could not find her. He waited a month for her to return, but she did not. Damien stormed out of the house and decided to get to the bottom of this problem. He asked all his neighbours if they had seen her. They all replied that they had seen her leave the house a year after he had left and never returned. He hired a few detectives to find out what was going on with his “wife”, that if she were alive or not. The detectives worked diligently looking for Damien’s missing wife and discovered something that had caused Damien to commit suicide. His wife had been seen hand in hand with another man, who was the banker in the town. Damien was so irate, he took the knife he was using to cut an apple with and slit his wrists. He bled to death in the very place we were standing at before anyone could save him. That explained the powdery substance I noticed on the floor, dried blood. Rumours had it that his neighbours could hear his agonised screams that he will kill his wife for cheating on him in the night. I shut the book with a loud bang. I knew what was going on now.

Since it just so happened that I looked unnaturally like Charlene, Damien’s ghost which was haunting this house wanted to kill ME. There had to be a way to convince him that I was not Charlene. All of a sudden, as if on cue, a silvery apparition appeared in front of us.

To be continued…