The Haunting

CW: murder

It was four in the afternoon, but the sun was already down as Charlie pulled into a spot across the street from the old clapboard house. The air smelled of decay. Fallen leaves, long since faded to a late November brown, dammed the gutter leaving a rotting stew against the curb. He stepped over the morass and kicked his car door shut behind him. An old crow squawked angrily and launched off its perch on the power line. Charlie took a few more steps down the street, looking for a better way back across the puddle before deciding to just jump. He probably should have worn boots, he thought to himself, but figured they'd be uncomfortable to wear all night long. Better to have on a pair of sneakers even if they did get a little wet on the way in. The trailer was already set up in the driveway with its rear door rolled open and ramp down but he didn't see anyone around, so he headed slowly for the front door. He wasn't sure who he was looking for, just that her name was Jane something. Budgets on small TV shows were always tight so the permanent crew of The Haunting consisted of 'the talent' – the on-air host Bob Mackie and his sidekick Dan – along with Jane, the director, and a lead video tech. The rest of the crew where all staffed locally. On a bigger show, that would be the lighting techs, videographers, gaffers, and caterers. On this show, it was just Charlie. But still, the money was decent and getting film credits on his resume sure couldn't hurt either.

Charlie eased the front door open and leaned his head inside, getting a look around. The furniture was old and mismatched. There was a rust-colored stain near the crown molding in the corner, where the wallpaper was starting to peel. The musty smell made his nose itch.

“Hello”, he called out. “Jane?”

“In here” came a faint reply from the back of the house.

Charlie walked tentatively through the dimly lit room, careful not to touch anything. Beyond the living room was a small dining room with a white bed sheet thrown over what looked to be a table and chairs. There was light spilling under the door to what he presumed to be the kitchen. He pushed it open and stood there a moment to let his eyes adjust. A woman was bent over the kitchen table, peering at a clipboard, and scribbling notes. An older guy was measuring coffee into the filter of a beat up Mr. Coffee on the counter. Charlie stood their feeling awkward with neither of them paying him any attention.

“Hi, I'm...” he started to stay, but the woman's hand shot up for him to stop. She went back to the clipboard and added another note before straightening up and turning to face him.

“Sorry. I'm Jane. I just needed to finish that before I lost my train of thought. You're Charlie, right?”

“Yeah. I just got here. What can I do?”

She pointed at the older guy and said “Johnny can take you out to the truck to collect your equipment in a sec. In the mean time, let me show you around. Tell you what we're looking for.” She took a step toward the door, stopped, turned and reached back for her papers.

“You do know the story of this house, right?”, she asked as she pushed past him into the dining room.

“Yeah, kind of. Everyone around here knows something. Guy killed his wife and kids here a few years back. House has been vacant ever since. It was all over the news for a while. Biggest thing to happen here in, like, forever.”

She paused at the entry to the living room. “The father refused to plead insanity. He swore up and down that he wasn't crazy and that the house was haunted. Demons talked to him in his dreams. Sounds pretty much like the definition of crazy to me, but I just film TV shows so what do I know? Got sent away for life.” She started walking again. “Anyway, as far as we know, nothing interesting happened on this floor so no sense wasting any equipment down here. Just get some panos with the handheld before we do the intro.” She marched through the living room pointing at the stain by the ceiling without pausing. “And get some shots of that.” Then she bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Charlie had to jog to catch up.

The upstairs was a standard four square layout with a central hall and rooms in each corner. The single bathroom was at the end of the hall at the back of the house. “The murders all happened up here, so we'll want cams in all these rooms at some point. Let's start with the two front rooms. Infrared, full-spectrum, EMFs, EVPs. The whole nine yards.”

Charlie was peering into what looked to be a child's room. “EMFs?”

“Electromagnetic field sensors. Johnny can show you how to set those up.” She had already turned to head back down the stairs when he stopped her.

“Wait, what was that other thing? VIPs?”

“EVPs. Electronic Voice Phenomena. Johnny'll set you up with those as well.”

She took another step down and then stopped. “Oh yeah. There's supposed to be access to the attic around here somewhere. I'd like to get an EVP up there too. All these old houses creak. It would be good to get some recordings of that. We can usually modulate the hell out of those to make it sound like voices.” And with that, she was back down the stairs and headed for the cellar. “He apparently dismembered the bodies down here somewhere and burned them in the furnace, so we'll definitely want cams set up in here as well. Not too close to the junction box. That plays havoc with the EMFs.”

Charlie glanced around the unfinished basement. It sure was creepy. Cobwebs in the corners. Some old cardboard boxes stacked against a wall, and behind the stairs was a rusty looking baby carriage. Jane saw him looking at it and said “Get some shots of that, too” and then turned and tromped back up the stairs. He followed her up and into the kitchen where the older guy was pouring himself a cup of coffee. Jane waved Charlie over.

“Charlie, this is Johnny. Johnny, Charlie. Johnny'll set you up with what you need. Everything should be in place before Bob and Dan get here around 7:00. Are you familiar with the drill?”

“No. This is my first time. I'm guessing we hunker down somewhere and monitor the cams waiting for something to appear?”

She looked at him like he had just said something incomprehensibly stupid. Johnny just smirked.

“Yeah, no. We'll shoot the intro with Bob on the front porch then do a walk-through of the house while he describes the murders. After that, we'll get a few shots of Dan pretending to look at the meters. Oh, he won't go up there, but if you can fit, get some film of him peering around the attic. Then, they'll go have dinner while we review what we've got and decide if we need more takes. They'll swing back around 10:00 or so and we'll reshoot whatever we need. After that, you're mostly on your own, just keep your cell handy. Charlie will probably need you rock on some floor boards at some point, maybe go outside and shine a flashlight at a window. And then when he's ready, you can move the cams to the back bed rooms so we can get some footage of those.”

“Why don't we just set up cams in all the rooms up front? What if we miss something?”

She gave him that look again. “Charlie should have everything he needs by 2:00 or 3:00. Then we break it all down and lock it back up in the trailer for the night. Tomorrow we just have to shoot the wrap with Bob and Dan, and get whatever extra footage we may need. We should have you out of here before midnight.”

Johnny nudged Charlie's foot with his toe. “Want some coffee, kid? It's gonna be a long night.”

Charlie looked at the time on his phone for what seemed like the seventh time in the last ten minutes. Still barely midnight. He lay on one of the beds trying to nap but he kept getting creeped out by the setting. Maybe if he just closed his eyes and tried not to think about anything.

“He's going to kill you.”

Charlie bolted up in bed looking around. Was someone there? Or had he actually nodded off and dreamed it? He looked at his phone again – 12:07am. He didn't think he could have fallen asleep that fast. Then he heard a creak on the stairs like someone was trying to sneak up. He hopped off the bed and stood frozen in the middle of the room until Johnny's head peered around the door and locked eyes with Charlie.

“There you are. I texted. You were supposed to keep your cell with you.” He seemed a little bit peeved. He stepped into the doorway holding a six volt battery duct-taped to the end of a pool cue.

Charlie lifted up his phone to show Johnny. “I never got a text. You got a charger? My battery's low. Maybe that's why it didn't come through.”

“Whatever. I need you to go down to the living room and run this slowly across the ceiling. Start about a foot past the sofa in an arc, ending at that stain in the corner. Just give me a few minutes to get back to the trailer.”

“How fast should I move it?” Charlie asked.

“I dunno...slow...like the speed a small child would walk. Use your imagination.” Johnny thrust the stick at Charlie. “And then I need you to check the EMF in the basement. It's acting squirrely. Make sure it isn't next to anything electronic. Maybe try moving it.”

Charlie double-checked his text messages and then followed Johnny down the stairs and plopped down on the sofa figuring Johnny would text him to let him know when to start.

“Kill him.”

Charlie jerked upright, his eyes darting around the room. What the fuck was that?? Had he really fallen asleep again that quickly? Shit, Johnny's gonna be pissed. He got up and looked around for the pool cue when he felt his phone buzz. It was a text from Johnny.

“Got it loud and clear. Thanks. Check on that EMF now, woulda. It's still acting up.”

“wait what about the battery” Charlie responded. A thumbs up icon was all that came back.

Charlie trudged over to the basement and opened the door. That musty smell greeted him as he flipped the light switch. Nothing happened. He flipped it off and on again, but still nothing. So he pulled out his phone and opened the flashlight app. It was pretty dim with his phone at only 10% but he could see the stairs well enough to keep from tripping and the light from the living room was helping a little.

He remembered where he'd put the EMF. It was just a meter, with no line of sight like a camera, so he'd laid it in the old baby carriage. Maybe there was a magnet in there he hadn't noticed. Or maybe the rusting metal was acting like a conductor. He got to the last step and shined his light back under the stairs but the carriage wasn't there. That's weird. He moved the light around the room but it barely illuminated a few feet in front of him so he slowly started to inch his way around. There, over by the furnace was a shadow. He inched toward it holding his phone at arm's length in front of him. He could just make out the outline of the stroller. Had Dan moved it, he wondered? He didn't remember seeing him do that, but maybe he just forgot. That was probably what was causing it to go haywire, though. He reached for the handle when he heard a foot creaking on the steps behind him. Then the basement door swung shut.