House from Hades

We have a house on the end of our block. To most, a descript Victorian mansion with a dark history but colorful care taker.

When I grew up we thought the house was a set from the tv show "The Munsters" . I always felt like I knew it's occupants, although Mom insisted we never venture into the creepy home.

Now I'm eighteen and in college. My Aunt's old sorority is having a pledge night. Our mission is to spend the night in the Victorian mansion which is now a hotel.

Seems simple enough, right? But I learned it was haunted by a vicious ghost. I wasn't really scared of ghosts. So I set out to put my overnight bag, my back pack, cell phone and laptop in a jumble on my bed and packed. Technology in one, clothes and other stuff in the other. I grabbed a flashlight and snacks and placed them and an envelope with cash for other things and zipped up the bags. I grabbed my keys, a charger cable and my jacket and locked my door behind me. I went with my bags down stairs and sat in the front room until the others arrived. It was Halloween night and the moon showed her luminescent self in full glory. Nice!

When the others arrived we were given some vague instructions and driven to the location. Our rooms, I discovered, were paid in advance however if we failed we had to pay the bill.

When we got there and was checking in, I turned around to see if our driver was still there. Nope "Scaredy cat!"

I checked in got the top floor and the room at the end of the hall. I could still smell the faint mustiness of the old furniture and unlocked the door. I picked up my bags and put them on the table. There was an old mirror and I wasn't sure but thought I was being watched. I chuckled. I began to unpack first my laptop, phone, cables, snacks and stuff on the table. Then my clothes and toiletry bag. I opened the curtains and the view was amazing. The old tree next to the building showed her age and her leaves had descended in a neat pile at her base. She looked majestic! The moon peeked shly through her branches like a small child. I took a picture and left the curtains open. I opened my laptop and plugged it in and booted it up. We had lights so I u plugged it and frowned. Maybe that plug wasn't working. "Oh well!"

I wanted to explore the old place so I grabbed my flashlight, phone, some snacks, change and my keys and locked the door behind me.

The stairs creaked violently with each step as I made my way to the kitchen in search of any secret door to the basement. "Yes " In the corner of the dimly lit pantry was a small crawl space. I opened the door to the space and wiggled in. I blocked it from closing with a can of peas from the shelf above. Turning on my flashlight, I saw my first glimpse of the home's dark history. In the back of the space was a peculiar box. It wasn't fancy but very old. Curious, I shoved it into my jacket to look at in my room. It had a strange set of markings and odd scratch marks but was intact. On the wall were marks. Thinking it was animals I backed out of the space and bumped into a pile of old torn rags. They stunk. So I scurried out and closed the door, placing the can back. I cradled the box. It was remarkably light. I wanted to see more of the house/ hotel and went to the library, passing by a odd, misplaced curio cabinet. It had trinkets from the previous owners. But it was locked. I looked around to see if anyone else was near. Nothing. The room was dark when I flashed my light over the contents one of the pieces moved. I thought I bumped the cabinet until moved back a step and it moved forward. My heart skipped a beat and I told it I would be back. It flung itself against the glass and the other items moved from the moving item. Oh that's why you are locked up.

I ventured into each room, musing at the way the family might have lived and found a dusty, bound book. I hefted it from the shelf and the weight of it landed on the table with a bang.

I looked around to see if anyone else heard it. Nothing. I pulled up the chair and aimed my flashlight on the book. I opened the cover and in awe saw the family. There were small inscriptions but I could barely make out the fading handwriting from the ink. I guessed they were happy at one time. I flipped through each page until I got to the last one. Someone had drawn a box similar to the one I had procured from the pantry crawl space. I put the box next to the book. As I opened the box, all hell broke loose. Pictures dropped to the floor, the book slammed shut and as I ducked under the table smacking my forehead the item which moved from the curio cabinet rolled in front of me.

I rubbed my forehead and felt the goose egg on my head and groaned. I grabbed the items and crawled to the center of the room. I played for about an hour and placed the items in the box closing it firmly and put it on the table. I opened the book on the table and the ink showed each entry as if it were fresh from the author's hand in a rusty brown. It had a musty coppery smell. It was from the eldest child. Sara. She would write about her adventure and her trinkets. And the dark history my mother warned me of was there in the book. A year rolled from my eye. Sara hated her stepfather who owned this very hotel/home when I was very young. Her last pages of the book was her last days in the home. Her father went crazy and killed her family. She tried to hide in the crawl space and died trying to escape. In anger she roamed this home attacking anyone who dared venture in. That included me. "Sara, come out" I said. Books flung to the floor.

"I have your box of trinkets. They are lovely" The books stopped. I felt a very cold presence and smelled a lingering smell of lilacs. It was Sara. "I liked your book. And here's your box" I pushed the box over a few inches and stared as the box opened on its own. I shivered from the cold hand afraid to upset her breathed in a large gulp of air. I took a chocolate bar from my pocket, unwrapped it and moved it towards the box. It hovered in the air and went into the box and the box closed. Sara shoved the book towards me as if to give it to me. Scared, but pleased, I lifted the book. It was no longer heavy. I freed her ghost. I picked up my flashlight and went back to my room and locked the door behind me. I sat on my bed and in the dim light of the moon re-read her story. Sara was my Aunt. This was her home. Scared, I cried a little when a cold air touched my cheek. It was Sara.

The next morning I found the box on the table next to the book. I packed both in one bag and scribbled a message of thanks to Sara for the gift in the dust.

I left the hotel to return to the dorms. My head still hurts from the enormous bump and bruise on my forehead but I didn't care.