The old Whittaker House

Dex skidded around the corner of the building and bounced off the bulk of the local overweight Sheriff, Sheriff Woods. Dex's glasses and Sheriff Woods' chocolate glazed and rainbow sprinkled doughnut both went crashing to the pavement. Dex screamed when he hit the sagging belly of authority and quickly dropped to his knees, searching for his sight. Sheriff Woods sighed and grumbled to himself, lamenting the wasted second half of his precious treat, "Stupid kids, always causing trouble."

Dex found his glasses and stood up, breathlessly apologizing before realizing exactly whom he hit. His eyes bulged behind his smudged lenses and he shifted gears into a mile-a-minute plea for help, "Oh thank goodness officer I'm so glad I found you you need to come quick I think Jimmy and Christine are in trouble you see we were walking around the abandoned Whittaker House and then we went to the back door well we were on the sidewalk minding our own business not intending to do anything illegal or nothing I mean when we heard a noise and Jimmy said it would be an adventure so we went to investigate like good citizens you know..."

Sheriff Woods seized on the opportunity of Dex sucking in a breath to interject, "Slow down, son, or you're going to make yourself pass out," He wiped chocolate icing off a button and sucked his finger clean, "You already ruined my snack so I'd suggest you run along before I ruin your day."

Dex stared for a moment in disbelief before launching into a second, machine gun inspired, speech, "No no no you dont understand Jimmy and Christine are gone like really gone not just avoiding me so they can kiss alone in their car gone but like really really gone there was this black uh uh stuff that looked like a shadow that came out of the Whittaker House and it sucked them in like they went down a drain and I ran away and now I found you..."

The Sheriff had his thumbs tucked in his belt and was in the process of rolling his eyes when he saw the tear streaks on the boy's cheeks. He looked at the small frame of the child in front of him and noticed that he was shivering, even though it was a perfect 80 degree early summer day. Sheriff Woods put his hands on Dex's shoulders and tried to calm him down. "Okay, okay. You said you were at the old Whittaker House? What were you doing there? Take a breath, son."

Dex rasped in a breath and shuddered it out uneasily. He tried to speak but convulsed at the memory of what just happened. If Sheriff Woods didn't know any better, he would think this thirteen year old was on the verge of shock. Dex composed himself enough to respond, "We just wanted to see inside. We weren't gonna do nothin bad, I swear."

Sheriff Woods leaned over to be eye level with the kid, his gut resting against his thighs, "And you said something happened to your friends?"

Dex wiped his hands under his glasses with the expertise of one accustomed to such a gesture and nodded, "Jimmy tried the back door but it was locked. Then they got sucked inside!"

Sheriff Woods furrowed his brow and straightened up, everyone knew the Whittaker House was the local haunting but nothing substantial had occured there in years, ever since his first year as a Deputy. Anyway, he knew Dex wasn't the type of kid to play pranks or make up stories like this, his parents raised him right. His unlikely friend Jimmy, on the other hand, had been caught multiple times for being a nuisance, the most recent time he was heading to the old covered bridge with a string of firecrackers, a roll of duct tape, and a stray barn cat. Checking his watch, Sheriff Woods saw he had an hour before lunch to teach Jimmy a lesson, "Okay. Let's go on an adventure, you don't think he pulled some prank, do you?"

As they headed off, Dex shook his head vigorously, the confirmation of an adult believing and helping him already beginning to bring him back to his senses. He walked silently beside Sheriff Woods as they retraced his steps along the side of the local grocery store, across Main Street, behind the storage complex, and to the short driveway of the abandoned Whittaker House. Dex hesitated as Sheriff Woods stepped into the overgrown yard then followed at a distance as he trekked around to the back of the house.

Sheriff Woods said in a loud gruff voice, "Is anyone there? This is Sheriff Woods of the MCSO." Even as he said the words, he thought how absurd it sounded since everyone within a fifteen mile radius knew him and his title. Better to be safe than sorry he thought as he hiked up his belt. He stepped up the short stoop to the back door, the very one Dex claimed to have sucked in his friends, and he tried the handle. Locked. Then he pounded on the door and repeated his official line. Nothing. He turned and looked back at Dex who was standing with his back against a big Oak tree. Sheriff Woods shook his head and sighed. As he heavily dropped his weight back onto the ground, ready to tell the kid that his much cooler friends probably just duped him, he heard a faint noise from behind him. It was difficult to decipher over the chirping of birds and rumble of an engine in the storage complex, but Sheriff Woods was sure he heard it, it almost sounded like a scream.

He glanced up at Dex and confirmed the youngster also heard something by the boy now peeking around from behind the think trunk like a cartoon character. Sheriff Woods turned around and craned his neck, listening. Silence. He stepped back up to the door and pounded once again on the peeling brown paint. He put his ear against the door and plugged his opposite one, trying to block out the outside noise. He waited, hearing nothing. He closed his eyes, listening intently, a small part of him wanted to hear something that would give him cause to break down the door, the other, much larger part of him, wanted to boogie out of there pronto. He allowed himself a five count before he would turn and leave when all of a sudden the door banged against his skull.

He stumbled backward and landed on his back in the grass, staring wide eyed at the door. It rattled again as if something hard was bashing it... or being thrown against it. Dex shrieked and started crying behind the tree and Sheriff Woods struggled to his feet with a ringing in his ears. He charged the door with all of his might and lowered his shoulder as he pummeled into the old wood. The door gave a little but remained closed to the outside world. The hefty Sheriff planted his feet and pulled deep from his old football days as he rammed the door once more. He let out a savage yell as the door swung inward, splitting the wood around the handle and sending Sheriff Woods sprawling halfway into the dusty kitchen.

He regained his footing with a gasp and a cough and drew his handy taser, he never liked carrying a gun when he had yet to need one, and he looked around the room. The sunlight streaming in from the open door and two grimy windows was enough to see the sparce kitchen but the other rooms and hallway beyond were shrouded in shadows. He noticed cobwebs hanging from the corners of the fake wooden cabinets and the refrigerator was sitting ajar, warm and vacant. The air around him was still, there were no signs of anyone in this room or even the whole house except...

Sheriff Woods' eyes settled on the streaks in the dust on the floor. What struck him was that they weren't footprints, they were decent sized streaks across the linoleum floor that disappeared into the darkened hallway across from him. He would have missed them entirely except the sunlight was gleaming on them at the perfect angle. He drug his foot across the floor beside him and a little arc was left in the dust, revealing the yellowing fake tiles beneath. He looked at the streaks again and the one thing that could cause those kind of marks popped into his head against his will, a body. So someone had been here fairly recently, might even still be here. He needed to call Tony, his First Deputy.

Sheriff Woods stepped back into the glittering sunlight and the warmth helped him shake off the creepy feeling of the house. He saw Dex's red rimmed eyes peeking out at him from behind the tree and he gave a small wave indicating him to stay put. He pulled out his radio and hailed Tony back at the office.

Dex had watched in horror as Sheriff Woods finally broke down the door and entered the house. It felt like forever until the Sheriff returned and Dex could release his breath. As the Sheriff was talking on his radio, Dex was staring into the black hole of the house which looked like a gaping mouth ready to devour him and everything else in the world. He saw faint movement in the darkness, like a shadow shifted just beyond his line of sight and Dex shivered again, his mind was playing tricks on him like it did when he woke up scared in the middle of the night.

A cloud drifted in front of the Sun and the world's brightness was turned down a few notches as Sheriff Woods reached Deputy Tony on the radio. The shadows from the house seemed to elongate and spread across the ground, covering Sheriff Woods first, and then the rest of the yard. Dex rubbed his eyes and looked back at the door, it appeared to be melting, trailing down across the stoop. A deep blackness stretched from the darkened doorway down to the grass now, but instead of stopping there, it continued across the lawn, turning it from green-yellow to obsidian. He yelled at Sheriff Woods as the inky blackness overtook long blades of grass, a tendril of darkness reaching out across the yard toward the big bellied lawman. The Sheriff just held up his hand and spoke into his radio once more before the darkness pooled beneath him and he finally took notice. He tried to jump out of the oil black substance under his shoes but he was firmly stuck in place. He looked up and made eye contact with Dex, able to utter one word, "Run" before he was flung violently to the ground and dragged up into the gaping mouth of the house, his radio bouncing along on its coiled wire to catch up. The door slammed shut once again and Dex didn't hesitate in listening to the late Sheriff's instructions, he took off across the yard and headed straight for home as fast as his scrawny legs could carry him. He was done with adventures for the rest of his life.