Dear Diary . . . Help

Day 1 – Sooooo, excited. We’re now settled in at the haunted house, more of mansion really, an anniversary present from my brother Joe and his wife Tricia. And thanks to its fully stocked fridge and pantry we just finished a nice lunch of tomato soup and grilled cheese and bacon sandwiches with chips and beer. Beer! But what the heck, we’re on vacation. And now Tony and I are ready to explore the entire house A little scared. Back soon, Diary – I hope!

Made it back safe and sound, nothing scary yet. Actually this place is quite elegant. Are haunted mansions supposed to be elegant? Beautiful decor everywhere, restored Victorian furniture, tapestry draperies, gleaming wooden floors, highly detailed curio cabinets and wardrobes, Persian area rugs. And oh my gosh a canopied four-poster bed. Lots of covers, wonder if I’ll be under all of them when we see what the night brings. In contrast to all the old world finery there’s also a media room with a giant screen and and state of the art entertainment center with a tv, sound system, tons of CDs, DVDs, and a Roku.

Day 2 – OK, so the night brought nothing. Well, we did have a wonderful sleep in that beautiful bed, there’s that. Today we’re going to explore the grounds.

We’d already seen the flower lined circular drive out front, so we’d headed around the side yard, a soft carpet of deepest green grass under towering trees, to the back yard which was really more of a park. Same lovely grass and trees, but in a great expanse that also had fountains, sculptures, benches and even a grill. Sort of unexpected, really.

Day 3 – Again nothing overnight. Maybe the ghost union is on strike. This is definitely not what I envisioned as a haunted house experience. I’m looking at the gift certificate and brochure, and read again, “Be Prepared To Be Scared. Is it real or fake? Stay five days and decide for yourself. You can let us know – that is, IF you survive.”

So, we did have a nice dinner, baked mostaccioli, garlic bread, Caesar salad, tiramisu, wine. But we also talked about our disappointment, not one chain rattling, not one light flickering, not one bit of wailing, not even a shaking bed.

But then Tony said, Sal, thinking about it, while it certainly isn’t what we expected, we can still regard it as a nice vacation. It’s pretty and peaceful here. And there is a lot to enjoy, great food and wine, strolls in our private park, time to read, top movies to watch, good music to enjoy.

Most of me thinks Tony has a good point. But a small part is still in watch mode, kind of hoping for at least some theatrics.

Day 4 – Same. Doing my best to just relish the peace and quiet, the amenities, the chance to have a relaxing getaway.

Day 5 – Same, will be leaving at noon. Haunt-less. Also sorry Joe advised us to take an extra day off, to recover he said. Recover from this? I hope he can get his money back.

Wouldn’t you know it, miles from everywhere and our car won’t start. So not only no hauntings, but we’re probably going to be charged for staying past the one pm checkout. We’ve come back in the house now to get help.

Well, now there’s no cell service. And the phones in the house have either gone dead or were only decorative anyway. Tony’s going out to see if there’s any way he can get the car to work.

Tony’s back real fast. He couldn’t get out. The door wouldn’t open.

Now we’re sitting in the parlor, not really able to appreciate its beauty at the moment, because we’ve just gone through the entire house and every door and window is locked, or maybe stuck. We’re catching our breath and Tony has told me not to worry, he’ll find something to pry a door or break a window.

Why is this happening? If this is their haunting it’s a little late, a little lame. And not funny.

Tony came back from searching every inch of this huge place, found nothing that could break us out. He then opened an early bottle of wine saying it’s for medicinal purposes, yeah for sure, a panic antidote. In a little while we'll have dinner, watch a movie, and see what the morning brings, maybe the door and window lock system malfunctioned and will be fine. I know it’s a feeble hope but I have to embrace it to keep from going completely hysterical.

OK, so much for dinner, so much for entertainment. There’s no gas, no electricity. Tony tried to keep us calm with a little lightness, asking if our fine wine pairs well with peanut butter sandwiches.

After our “gourmet” dinner we go back into the parlor, on the couch, reading by candlelight, when a thought struck me. Tony, I’d said, do you think this is all a joke set up by my prankster brother? He’d grinned and said he wouldn’t put it past him. Now I think both of us are clinging to that thought for all we’re worth.

And dearest diary, I’m so glad I brought you with, you’re like a familiar friend here, listening to my alternating fears and hopes. It’s now totally dark outside so I’m thankful the candles let me continue “talking” to you. Wish there was some way you could help, though.

Well I may just have gotten my theatrics. We both jumped when it felt like something touched us even though there was enough light to see no one was there. Next came an ear-splitting boom that felt like it shook the house off its foundation. The flames faltered but held.

And now there’s silence, as deep and profound as the dark beyond the reach of the soft glow. Not sure which is scarier. Now we’re just sitting . . . and waiting.

Chills rack my spine and my fingers have turned to ice. The wall opposite us lit up so bright I don’t even need the candles to write this. The whiteness is forming into figures, and they seem to be three-dimensional. And just like 3-D they come close to us – so close we’re hit with the stench of decay - and then recede.

We look down because our feet are no longer in contact with the floor, and then realize the couch is rising in the air. It’s now starting to slowly spin so we can see that these hideous creatures are all around us, and their moves are becoming more and more menacing, reaching for us, thrusting ruined faces at us while emitting unearthly laughter. I doubt anyone can read this because my hands are shaking so bad but I want to document as much as possible. Just in case . . .

The couch is starting to slow and now stops, with us facing down the hall which we know has rooms off to both sides The apparitions are gone and their light with them, but that hallway is now glaringly lit and illuminates both of us too. Dark shadowy figures flit back and forth across from one room to another to another, some seeming to float above the floor. Suddenly they all gather at the far end, stand stock still facing us as the couch descends to the floor and a strong, frigid wind makes it hard to breathe. They start slowly creeping forward. Oh God . . .

* * *

Everything’s dark now, so no more writing anything down. Just going to try to mentally chronicle as much as possible, hopefully to eventually add to the diary or actually report to someone details of this house of horrors and potential death trap. Is that too optimistic?

* * *

Because now the dark figures are circling us at a rapid pace, chanting in some demonic language, their musty, flowing robes hitting us in the head and body. Then the bright white monstrous apparitions reappear, racing along the walls in an opposite circle. My terror is palpable, like a living entity. Tony and I are holding hands, squeezing hard, really hard.

Now sounds again rock the foundation but this time it’s music, zillion decibel music, clearly from a pipe organ we didn’t recall seeing. Lights are next, flooding the room, blinding blue, followed by neon green, then the red of hell. Then all three colors at once, in the form of giant spotlights, flashing around the walls, the furnishings, all over us, merging, separating, vibrating in time with the music. Then the couch starts sharply rocking in sync with both. Every sense is under assault. I think I may be screaming, but can’t hear it.

Now the music stops, everything goes black, even the candles are out. We hear a great whooshing sound, hopefully all the otherworldly ones leaving. Tony whispers to me in a shaky voice, still think this is your brother’s doing.? I whisper back, equally shaky, I don’t think even he would do this.

Still on the floor the couch rotates back to its original position. A small red dot appears on the facing wall, and begins expanding, taking shape, until it’s a fully formed devil, exactly as he’s always pictured. He says nothing but stares at us for minutes on end. Then he and the wall move toward us, and then the other walls close in until the three of us are in this cube. I can’t breathe.

His arms lift and he points a bony finger at each us, shattering the silence with a loud, guttural incantation that sounds like a curse. It feels as if those pointed fingers have us pinned to the couch, as his stare returns, his eyes blaze crimson, and slowly he says each of our names. Then the walls retreat, his arms cross, then fling wide, and he disappears in an mighty flash of fire.

Great booms like the one we first heard return and with each one the fire crackles louder and explodes further until it completely surround us. We feel a hot wind washing over us, smoke attacks our nostrils. At one point an errant flame flares right on the rug in front of us.

Axes and pitchforks and barbed chains are now dancing in the air all around us, and then we feel cold hands and cold metal trail across the backs of our necks, and immediately afterward bloody knives join the other air-borne weapons. I can feel something dripping down my back, and think I smell blood.

Then there's everything at once. The still raging fire, loud booms, white apparitions, dark demons, blaring music, manic lights, rocking couch, sharp tools, and as well images of the devil flashing everywhere. Can we please just die and end this nightmare.

But then just as suddenly, everything stops, everything. Oddly, the candles come back on, but there are more of them, all over the room, the flames large and blood red.

* * *

Dear diary, I'm back, writing in the eerie glow of red candlelight. All is quiet and I'm wondering, is it possibly over?

Oh, just now maybe the scariest thing of all. Outside, a motor is shutting off, a car door opening and closing. Tony just whispered, Salvation? And we looked at each other and shook our heads. There’s just too much evil here.

And then the distinctive sound of a key in the front door lock. Visions of those sharp floating objects, and the possibility we’ve already been wounded, do nothing to offset our fears. Are we about to face the real grand finale.

* * *

“You miserable son of a . . . “ and now in bright light I’m pounding on my brother’s chest, and he’s grinning from ear to ear. Tricia is looking a little chagrined, saying “Joe, told you we shouldn’t send them off on something like this.” And Tony, Tony, says, “Ahh I knew it was fake all along.” Uh-huh.

Joe meanwhile defends himself by saying “But they did have a nice vacation for those five days.” To which Tricia replies, “Oh yeah, lull them into thinking nothing is going to happen, let them get totally relaxed, and then Whammy!!!” Joe says “Ahh, they’re OK, all in fun, right guys?”

When the reply is a double glare he says, “OK let me try to make up for it,” goes back outside and returns with a cooler plus a couple of guys in tow. “This is Chef Emile,” he says, “and his assistant Jacques, who are going to grill up some steaks and lobsters. We’ve been assured there’s plenty here for them to make some great side dishes too. We know there’s wine, but maybe something stronger, huh, I have a jug of already mixed top shelf martinis and a jar of bleu cheese olives.”

Tricia weighs in with, “And don’t forget the designer cake we brought. Oh, by the way, Happy Anniversary!”

During our fabulous dinner Joe tells us they’re all staying the night, Emile and Jacques will cook a nice big gourmet breakfast, and then the warped minds that created this place are going to come by and show us how all the effects work. Might have a few choice words for them too.

* * *

Dear Diary, We’re on our way home now, finally acknowledging all in all, heart attacks aside, it was pretty much fun, and maybe tomorrow I will add in as much as I remember after the lights went out. Just one more thing for today though, an important reminder. Never again underestimate brother.

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