Fact or Fiction "A Light from Beyond" Revealed

Wow - za - wow wow - The response was outrageous. It really is so remarkable as to how many people have so many points of view. I wanted to post this yesterday, but I wanted to be sure that I answered all the questions that were sent to me, in regards to the story " A Light from Beyond?" I posted on Fact or Fiction Friday. So, lets not put this off any longer.   Drum roll..............

 

The original story was submitted to me, from Carrie who lives in New Hampshire, and that she and I graduated from Laconia High School in 1986.

 

Below is her TRUE story. Yes, this story is True. Got ya! Strange how removing and changing a few words here and there, can change what a person believes or doesn't believe.

 

****

 

Hey Stacey-

So here is my TRUE life Ghost story:

July 2013 - I was cleaning a house that was about 10,000 sf. It is in Laconia in a very elite, expensive neighborhood. The house had 3 floors, 4 bathrooms, 14 rooms (not including the bathrooms or 3 other rooms that were in the basement used for storage). The house was huge. Anyway, I was in the family room in the basement vacuuming and about 1 1/2 hours into my 3 hour shift when all of a sudden I heard a HUGE LOUD BANG! And almost immediately I could actually "feel" someone watching me. It’s so hard to explain, but I could actually feel it. I was all alone in this huge house and absolutely terrified. I shut the vacuum off and just stood there shaking and my heart racing. I was terrified. I was almost frozen. A few minutes went by of me just standing there waiting to see if I could hear anything else the whole time having this very creepy feeling. I slowly walked over to the hallway and looked up through the railings on the stairway. The way the stairs were set up, you could see all the way up to the 3rd floor from the basement. (Kind of like how we use to be able to look down from an upper floor at the high school when on the stairs). I just stood there listening and looking. I was 100% sure someone was in the house watching me. I VERY slowly walked up stairs, super terrified. I stood on the landing right before I got to the main floor and looked down the long hallway. Not seeing anyone, but still feeling a presence. I went down the hall, looked in the rooms, saw nothing, I then proceeded to one of the bedrooms on that floor and when I walked in, there was a bed side light on. I thought that was strange because I had just left that room about 20 or 30 minutes earlier and the light was definitely NOT on. I thought maybe I hit the switch on the wall accidentally...I tried it and it was not the switch for that light. Then I thought that maybe it was a touch lamp and that I had bumped it accidentally...NOPE! When I got over to the light it was a lamp with a switch on it just below the bulb that you actually had to TURN it to turn it on. NOW I am completely freaked out!! All this time, I could still feel the presence. I continued to check the rest of the house and found no one. I finished vacuuming the house and got the hell out of there as soon as I could. That feeling of "being watched" never left me the entire time I was there. Just thinking about it right now, I am literally shaking. It was so scary.

I came home and called the owner of the home. It is not their primary residence. They live out of State, but have the home as a vacation home. I left her a message to please call me. She called me back a couple of hours later and she could tell that something was wrong with me. I asked her "Ummm...is your house haunted?" She said "Well, we've been wondering the same thing." I was like "WHAT?!" She said that her dog would sometimes stand at the end of the hallway and just start barking down the hall. She said that nobody was there that they could see. The dog would act strange a lot and sometimes she would hear noises that the rest of the family couldn't. She said sometimes both her and her daughter would awake suddenly in the middle of night with the sensation that someone was pulling at their feet. She consulted with a medium and was told that the woman who lived there previously had died and would come back and forth to the house to "play". She said the woman wouldn't hurt me and there was nothing for me to worry about. I didn't care...I was done right then!

I consulted with my friend Lesley who is a medium and asked her to do a reading on the house. In the meantime, I did some research on the house myself and the previous owner and had also gotten information about her from the present owner. Since the owners were never hardly there she would do the reading from the outside of the house. Lesley and I went down one night. She did not know which house it was, only the street. She did a reading, which was quite interesting. Lesley knew the woman's name, her husband’s name, what she looked like, told me particulars about her marriage problems, where the woman worked, what she did there, where she killed herself (It was not at the house), and how she died, which was by suicide. It was a very sad case. Lesley also told me that the woman was sorry that she scared me, but yet she found my reaction a bit amusing. (i.e.: looking around, walking slowly and cautiously, etc...) Lesley started imitating EXACTLY what I had done because the woman was showing her my reaction. Lesley also told me that this lady was not going to hurt me. But at that point I had already quit and I just knew that I could not go back Lesley felt that because the lady found it amusing, even though she was sorry, that she would probably play some games with me in the future. She also confirmed that the lady did not stay at the house all the time, but that she comes and goes. She wasn't sure "where" she went when she wasn't at the house, but that she was somewhere "out there."

It was all quite scary for me. I always thought it would be cool to have an encounter with a spirit, but after having one, I never want another one again! Lol

SO...THAT is my Ghost Story. What do you think?

Carrie

"The Haunted Treeline: Legend of Mr. Witticker"

"The Haunted Treeline"

Legend of Mr. Witticker

An original creation based on a true story written by: Stacey L. Bolin

 

to add sound effects to the story you can open up a second page and click on this link.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RebNZCyNqcU

 

(Part two)

 

 

The drive was free from the congestion of traffic, that had formed earlier in the day, with people excited to take part in the beautiful weather that mother nature was teasing them with. Mindy and Evan were certain that on a night like this there would be numerous people at the party, which made them someone nervous as they still didn't really know anyone very well.

How shocked they where when they arrived and discovered that there was only one other person, they had not met before, who was already there, everyone else was either a no-show or had expressed that they would be arriving later in the evening. Even the couple who had initially invited them to the first gathering had not arrived.

Mindy and Evan were greeted with a sincere welcome from Jake and his girlfriend Allison, who were the home owners and the hosts of the party. They were quick to introduce them to their friend Michael – Mick for short, who was very personable and no problems carrying on a conversation no matter what the topic was. Immediately they felt the awkwardness of still being new to the group - subside. They opened their folding chairs and placed them among the ring of chairs that circled the fire and made sure they were upwind from the smoke that billowed upward from it. It was actually rather nice to just sit down and talk with everyone, without the endless demands from pushy waitresses for alcohol purchases if they had all gone out to a bar. Here it was just people kicking back with a beer or two, with the exception of Allison, she loved her fruity drinks, just as much a Mindy, but with Mindy having to watch her alcohol intake because of medical issues and being the designated driver, she chose to occasionally take sips from Evan’s beer over the course of the evening.

As they sat, Mindy was intrigued with her surroundings, as this was the first time she was able to see what was around her, because daylight savings time had extended a few more hours in the day. The sun had turned in for the night and the moon shown fresh and bright in a sky colored in lavender, purple, and dark blue hues.

“Wow, would you look at that.”

“Look at what Mindy?” questioned Evan.

“The way the moon looks so spooky just over their house and it’s a full moon at that.”

“You promised Mindy. Don’t go there.”

“Go where?” asked Jake, then took a swig of his beer.

Mindy laughed, “I get inspired to write stories every time there is full moon hanging in the night sky or when there is a heavy rain beating down hard on the rooftop.”

“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if she is sitting there right now and her mind is trying to figure out what kind of story she can create from all of us just sitting here around a bonfire. Gotta be careful around my lady – she’s a writer and she just might find a way to throw you into one of her stories.” Evan explained and then laughed his truthful comment off as if it were a joke. Mindy just ginned.

“So Mindy…what kind of story would be coming into your mind…if you were to write about us?” Jake asked, with the hopes that she was already in mid idea and that he and his friends were a part of it.

“With the way the moon looks just over the rooftop of your house, no other lights on, just the light of the fire illumination just the faces of the people gathered round it…”she was quickly interrupted by Evan as he blurted out;

“A man hanging out in the dark tree line seeks an answer!”

 

“Seriously Evan? Seriously?” Mindy replied with a mixed tone of surprise and disappointment. “You ass!” she thought. She couldn’t believe that he had casually brought up some of the legend of Mr. Witticker after asking her never to say anything since these people lived only a short distance away from where the horrific event took place. Jake, Allison, and Mick just looked at the two of them, almost waiting for a fight to ensue.

 

“What?” I just was having fun.” Said Evan while wearing a look of innocence as if he had not said nor done anything wrong.

“Now whose nuts…Evan?”

“It’s all good.” Evan took another drink from his beer and quickly asked Mick what he did for a living, to get all eyes looking at anyone other than him.

The conversations were relaxing and tended to revolve around teenagers and their inability to socialize one on one because of their high dependency for their multimedia phones and applications. Mindy laugh to herself as she watched Allison sending a couple message on her phone to inquire who was still coming to the party –she was oblivious to the conversation or why Jake was laughing at her, when she looked up and saw that all eyes were on her.

“What? What are you looking at?” She said with a beautiful smile.

Mick smiled and said, “it’s nothing babe, go back to your phone.”

As they began to engage in some playful banter, two more guess had arrived. Allison once again was quick with the introductions, but for some reason her friends, gave both Mindy and Evan the impression that they may not have been as comfortable as Mick had been, with new faces in the mix.

They sat on the far side of the fire pit, and engaged in occasional yet minimal conversation unless Allison had gone over like she had a few times during the night, to talk to them, but just quiet enough that not all of their conversation could be heard. Mindy, began to feel uneasy when she noticed the hand jesture that she had made when talking about Evan, just a few hours earlier. It was at that moment that she couldn't find the ability to want to be overly cordial, whether what they were talking about was about her or not - her gut instinct was telling her, that any kind of close friendship stemming from meeting them would probably never happen and not because she didn’t try, they would probably feel Mindy's uneasiness about her. If Mindy had her way, she'd see to it that none of them would every know she suffers from a traumatic stress disorder from an assault while she was in  the military and that  keeping her guard up when trusting strangers was only one of many things that made Mindy who she was.  

As the night grew deeper into the hours on the clock, the topics began to swirl around sex or something sexual, like a person would hear if they were at a bar with a bunch of single military personnel – even though it’s not appropriate, someone always has to take the conversation down gutter lane. Mindy and Evan, being prior military, had heard it all and there wasn’t much in the way that would offend them. Mindy on occasion like to share her happiness that she married a cowboy and that it was nice to know she was the only one occupying his range, but not boast or brag, she just loved to make Evan blush when she could. Everyone, except the two female guests, had something crazy to share, but nothing was so profane, at that moment, that a person felt it was time to leave.

At the party, Allison’s kids were also still home and had a friend over to entertain them. They were having a blast playing hide-n-seek, and once in a while when their mother wasn’t aware, they would go in the house and play video games. For Mindy and Evan, they took great joy in the notion that while these kids were younger and the parents often worried what they were doing or getting into, they didn’t have too, as their kids were off doing their own thing – and that was a whole different set of worries.

As the kids took a break, one of the children decided that he wanted to roast a marshmallow over the fire. He was a very polite little boy who was quick at getting his marshmallow toasted to a burn.

“You guys having fun in the wood line?” asked Evan.

“Yep” the child replied as he watched the flame burn the outside of his sweet skewered treat.  

“You know there is a ghost that roams those woods…don’t you?”

“Evan!” exclaimed Mindy, “don’t scare him.”

“I’m not scared.” Said the boy, while trying to eat the melting mess he had created. “What ghost are you talking about.” He then asked rather inquisitively.

“The one armed man.”

Allison just shook her head it wasn’t true when the boy looked at his mother.

“What about a one armed man?” the boy asked.

“It’s nothing,” Allison chimed in.

“I’m not scared mom.”

Evan continued with his story, “Years ago, it happened right down there.”

“At the Bowling Alley?” questioned the boy, "That's weird."

“Yes, you see, these houses were not here, it was nothing but woods and thicket. The Bowling Alley was built just down the hill on the main road and it was the most popular spot to take a date, hang with friends, or learn a new sport. They would have special events and dances and parents knew that it was a place where all the teenagers hung out on a Friday and Saturday night, and was safe. The legend has it, in 1956 Mr. Witticker, Mr. Gavin Witticker to be exact, was not only the builder, but also the owner of the Midway Bowling Alley. He had always heard that if a small town had a Bowling Alley in it, then it would be on a map and draw in outside customers to local shops and businesses.  He was in his mid-twenties and for years had been known as the youngest single entrepreneur with a grand business sense that eventually put the little town of Neewollah on the map.  He wanted to create a place where people could hang out as a family, a hot spot for teens and even a place where grandma and grandpa could continue with the excitement of being on a league like they had been on in years past, at other locations, before retiring and moving to town.

“That’s not scary.” The boy replied with a voice that mimicked his body language that clearly displayed that he was getting bored with the story and was ready to go back and play with his friends.

“Let me finish. It gets even better.” Evan continued, “One Friday night the house was packed with all kinds of people trying to get that perfect 300 game. Something, or should I say, someone caught Gavin’s eye as he walked passed lane 15. A beautiful sight like none he had ever seen before. He was immediately drawn to this beauty.

“Hi I’m Gavin.” He said nervously wondering if she’d pay him any attention.

“Hi Gavin.” She said with a smile as she looked up at him with her sparkling baby blue eyes.

“What’s your name?”

“Charlene.”

“A beautiful name just right for a beautiful lady.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” She blushed.

“Charlene, are you seeing anyone?”

“No, I just moved here from two towns over, so I don’t really know anyone yet.”

“Would you like to join me for something to eat at the food bar over there?”

The young ladies she had been bowling with began to tee-he and chuckle.

“Yes, I would love to join you.” She turned to her friends and smiled as she got up and walked away with him.

“Have fun Charlene,” the girl all said in unison.

Gavin and Charlene walked up to the food bar both nervous that they were strangers to one another – strangers who clearly had an interest in one another as well.

The boy had clearly heard enough, though so it appeared, and excused himself from the making of both his burnt marshmallows and Evan’s story to play hide-n-seek with his friends near the woods. You could see the disappointment in Evan’s face that he had not enticed the child to want to sit and listen to the rest of the growing plot.

Just then a large figure took shape in the darkened tree line. The kids came screaming across the yard yelling for their parents that they needed to do something – there was someone out there.

“Maybe they should  have listened to the rest of my story.” Evan smirked.

“Jake can you see anything…I don’t” Allison remarked while trying to focus in on the location that the kids claimed a stranger was standing just past the reach of the moon light.

Allison somewhat nervous that there was the possibility of an unwanted guest immediately demanded an answer, “You’re making this shit up! Aren’t you Evan? You’re just trying to put a scare in us.” She tried to laugh through her concern. Before he could answer, her boyfriend quickly interjected.

“Sweetie calm down, I think your fruity drinks are making you fruity, and you’re probably a little upset that the people you invited to be here, not all of them could make it. It’s no big deal, it doesn’t matter how many are here, and we are all still having fun and there is plenty more great weather days to light this fire pit up.”

“What’s going ON…WHO’S OUT THERE!?” she screamed out.

Mindy leaned over in her chair and whispered to Evan, “Now I know why you didn’t want me to say anything, it freaks people out. Are you going to tell them what happened to Mr. Witticker and what they don’t know about their property?”

“Tell us what?” Allison asked, “What aren’t you tell us?”

 

(To be continued)

 

 

How inappropriate of me, today is good Friday and many of you are spending time with your families. So I will wait until next Monday, instead of this afternoon to post the rest of the story.

 

Happy Easter Everyone.

 

Come back Monday and get the rest of the story – I dare you! 

 

 

Creepy Myths and Legends - Revealed

 

 

 

Below are five paragraphs that have been categorized as either a legend or a myth. Did you guess which one's were which? Did you know what was the truth or what was fiction?  You don't have to wait any longer. Oh and before I forget - HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

 

 

 

#1. The Legend:

A young man is dropping off groceries at the house of an eccentric old lady when he notices an old photo that makes the hair on his arms stand on end. The photo's normal enough--a young boy in his Sunday best--but something just seems off. He asks the old lady who it is.

 "Oh," she replies, trying to stuff a cat in the dishwasher "isn't that beautiful? You can hardly tell he's dead."

 

The Truth:

While most folks today are too squeamish to take more than a glance into the casket during a funeral, in the late 19th through early 20th centuries someone dying meant it was time to break out the camera for a family photo. The practice was known as memorial photography.

And, while it all sounds like the set-up for some terrifying practical joke on the photographer, there was actually a somewhat reasonable explanation for the practice. The process used to take pictures back then was expensive enough that it was a once in a lifetime (er, or shortly after a lifetime) thing for most, and required people to sit perfectly still for a couple minutes for it to turn out properly. And if there's one thing dead people are good at its sitting still.

So, the bodies were dressed and propped up, with their eyes held open. And in case they still weren't giving off that lively "I'm not a corpse harnessed to a chair" vibe, some color was added to the faces in the photo. And just look what they could do with special effects in those days!

Some photographers also offered to add stink lines, but it never really caught on.

Eventually the practice of memorial photography went out of style, maybe because picture-taking became more affordable and didn't have to be reserved for special occasions such as death. Or, possibly everyone just sat up all at once and said, "Wait, what the fuck are we doing?"

 

Read more: http://www.cracked.com/article_16721_6-more-creepy-urban-legends-that-happen-to-be-true.html#ixzz2jJ0CGOKl

 

 

 #2. The Legend:

A sick woman arrives at a hospital and when the nurses withdraw blood it is so toxic that it begins making everyone around her sick too. Realizing they're dealing with the human embodiment of the creature from Alien, the nurses flee for their lives.

 

The Truth:

On the evening of February 19th, 1994, Gloria Ramirez was admitted to a California emergency room, suffering from an advanced form of cancer.

When a nurse drew Gloria's blood she detected a foul odor, so foul in fact that hospital staff started gagging and even collapsing around her. Eventually as many as 23 people were affected. The ER was evacuated and a decontamination unit brought in. So more like the creature from Alien crossed with a fart, but still.

The case was quickly written off as mass hysteria, but considering that the worst affected victim spent two weeks in intensive care suffering from hepatitis, pancreatitis and avascular necrosis (a condition which literally causes your bones to die) we'd say either this was some serious damned hysteria or the guy who decided that got his degree from Dumbass University.

As for Gloria, she died just 40 minutes after arriving at the hospital. Her autopsy was performed by men in full hazmat moon suits and, despite one of the most extensive forensic investigations in history, it's still not known what exactly turned this woman's blood into toxic sludge. Granted, the experts on the case have refused to take off their hazmat suits since that day, and have now retreated to a small island which they have surrounded with barbed wire, but those are probably just the usual precautions.

 Read more: http://www.cracked.com/article_16721_6-more-creepy-urban-legends-that-happen-to-be-true.html#ixzz2jJ0f7gQf

 

#3. The Myth:
A prop at a carnival was discovered not to be made of the usual combination of papier mache and carni spit, but human skin and bone. All the little kiddies at the haunted house had been poking and giggling at a real, mummified dead body.

 

The Truth:

 Apparently the smell wasn’t just coming from the convict manning the corndog stand. Back in 1976, a camera crew filming an episode of The Six Million Dollar Man began to set up in the haunted house at the Nu-Pike Amusement Park in Long Beach, Calif.

As they were moving aside a "hanging man" prop, they accidentally knocked off its arm and discovered human bones inside. Bionic, this poor sap wasn’t.

The story gets stranger. The body was actually that of criminal mastermind Elmer McCurdy, who was killed in a shootout after robbing a train in 1911. The princely sum old Elmer got killed for? $46 (and two jugs of whiskey).

McCurdy was embalmed by the local undertaker, and apparently the guy was so darn pleased with his work that he propped up the corpse in the funeral home as evidence of his skills. People were charged 5 cents to see the corpse, which they paid by dropping a nickel in the cadaver’s mouth. Remember that little bit of history the next time somebody turns their nose up at you for liking Hostel 2.

Think it can’t get any stranger? Oh, you naïve fool. After several years of raking in the nickels (how exactly these coins were retrieved after being dropped into the corpse’s mouth is something probably best left to the imagination) our enterprising undertaker’s scheme was ruined when McCurdy's brothers showed up to claim him. Of course, these guys weren’t his brothers at all, but wily carnival promoters. From that point on, McCurdy’s mummy went on a morbid mystery tour all around America, popping up at carnivals all over the country before finally coming to rest in Long Beach.

 

 McCurdy is now buried in Oklahoma. Because McCurdy apparently had the most entertaining corpse in history, they prevented anyone else from taking him on tour by dumping concrete on top of the casket. No, really.

Read more: http://www.cracked.com/article_15628_the-5-creepiest-urban-legends-that-happen-to-be-true.html#ixzz2jIySC7gM

 

 

#4. The Legend:

Every day, millions of us put our lives in the hands of skilled physicians, dentists and white van tattoo artists. Whether we're getting wisdom teeth removed or our boobs corrected so they're the same size, we're working under two assumptions: A) The doctor in charge knows what he's doing and B) There is no way a doctor could be a psychopath who just went through medical school so he'd have an excuse to mutilate people.

The Truth:

Glen Tucker was a terrible plastic surgeon. In fact, he was worse than that -- he was sadistically incompetent and left a trail of mangled patients behind him wherever he went. Like the man who came to see him with arm spasms and ended up having his arm amputated. Or the woman who went in for breast implants and somehow, against all odds and laws of physics, ended up with square breasts, covered in Frankenstein-like scars.

So Tucker's faults went far beyond just being a crappy doctor. Take the story of Jan Lehman, who had nothing more than a broken nose when she came to see Tucker. Midway through surgery, she WOKE UP to find the "doctor" wheeling her into a strangely dark and deserted operating room. She then passed out, but awoke again as Tucker brutally tore tubing from her nose, destroying her stitches. Later, after filing a complaint against Tucker, Lehman reported seeing him following her in his car. He wasn't just inept -- he was Cape Fear crazy.

The complaints and lawsuits mounted, and then one day Tucker tragically drowned in a boating accident. Except of course he didn't actually drown, and even if he did, it probably wouldn't have been that tragic. No, he just flew the coop to Florida, leaving numerous barely stitched together patients in his wake. Years later, a TV producer tracked Tucker to Florida, and the doctor gave this eerie statement: "If I get driven too far into a corner, if it got to the point where life was no longer worth living, then I would not want to go alone."

He didn't. Several years later, Tucker loaded his .45 and killed his wife, himself and, yes, even the cat.

 

Read more: http://www.cracked.com/article_20126_7-creepy-urban-legends-that-happen-to-be-true-part-6.html#ixzz2jIyyILxq

 

#5. The Legend:

Everyone knows the feeling. You're alone in your house when you get the unmistakable sense that you're being watched. It's like you can feel another human presence in the house with you, even though you know you locked the doors and windows. This spooky trick of the mind is probably why so many of our ghost stories are about someone being inside our house. There's the call that was coming from inside the house, the killer who hides under your bed, the guy who wakes up to find a note taped to his forehead or even the monsters living in our closet. But those fears are irrational, right?

The Truth:

A 57-year-old man living by himself in Japan began to notice small things amiss in his house -- objects wouldn't be where he'd left them. Food would disappear that he swore he didn't remember eating. He'd wake up to strange sounds in the middle of the night, but every time he'd go and check them out, the door would be locked, the windows tightly shut. Nobody was there.

Was he losing his mind? Being messed with by a shy poltergeist? To find out, he set up a series of spy cameras around his house. The next morning, he ran back the footage on the camera and that's when he saw it. A strange woman crawling out of a cupboard like it was the TV in The Ring. And if you think that's terrifying, imagine what happened inside his stomach when, at the end of the video, she crawled back into the cupboard. The one that was just a couple of feet away from where he was standing, watching the video.

Presumably in an effort to maintain bowel control, the man assumed the woman was a burglar who was only temporarily hiding in the cupboard, and had since left. He called the police, who pointed out that all the locks on his doors and windows were undisturbed. There was simply no evidence whatsoever that anybody had broken in -- in other words (cue dramatic strings) the woman had been in the house all along.

After a thorough search, the woman was found nervously huddled in a small cupboard. Apparently she had sneaked into the house and slept, ate and even took showers there for an entire year without being detected. Think of all the things you've done in your most private moments -- the things you thought nobody would ever see. Now imagine a homeless Japanese woman had been watching it all. Yeah. We'll let that one sink in for a moment.

Read more: http://www.cracked.com/article_19503_7-creepy-urban-legends-that-happen-to-be-true-part-521.html#ixzz2jIzgNt71

~ Hex of the Voodoo Witch ~ "The Gray Hair Curse" - An Original Spooky Story

I can't wait to share my next original spooky thriller with everyone one. We have gotten the edits back and once again - there is an interest. Join me tomorrow for another original thriller.



~ HEX of the VOODOO WITCH~

"The Gray Hair Curse"

 

Sometimes a wish come true...

could be your worst nightmare

 

Original Story written by:

Stacey L. Bolin

 

Copyright October 20, 2013

"The Artwork" - Original Spooky Thriller written by: Stacey L. Bolin

 

Musical Accompaniment by: Dolomedes Threatening

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s925u_dFwh8

“The Artwork”

An original story written by: Stacey L. Bolin

Copyright: September 25, 2013

 

A bluish clammy gloom slowly draped itself around her as she continued to walk the darkened hallway towards the location of the mysterious scratching thumping sound that echoed through her home. Her husband and children lay silently asleep in the safety of their dreams. Bang! - Another sound now accompanying the unexplainable thumping that startled her to awaken and rise from the warmth of her bed.  Her feet naked upon the hardness of the floor gave refuge to the cold that nippily progressed throughout her body. She continued moving forward determined to reveal the sources of the dreadful sounds that grew louder with each step. Her breathing quickened as she guardedly entered the kitchen.

Her attention momentarily stolen by the intricate Victorian lacy shadow created from the rays of a full moon that shone brightly into the window and through the lace curtains casting the imagery upon the tile of the floor – it was appeasing to her. Scratch Thump! Scratch THUMP! BANG!  Fear simultaneously shook through her every sense of humanity as the unknown directed her every step once again.

She reached for the block of cutting knives, on the counter next to the stove, to accompany her fear with some level of protection. Something was out there, obscured by human sight, but not by sound. Thump! Bang! Scratch! Scratch! Her body startled by the sounds as she opened the kitchen door to the backyard. It was on their porch.

“Hello?” her mouth motioned, but not a word was spoken. “Is anyone out there? Hello?”

The silence of the night was deafening and triggered the sounds of ringing in her ears. She clutched the knife tightly as she stepped out on to the porch that wrapped around the home. BANG! The sound was just around the corner. Tears ran down her face, her heart raced, her body shook with the feeling of an adrenaline rush. A low wet, gurgling growling grew with intensity as the sounds of untrimmed toenails of a large dog or animal made their way closer to her. She knew that whatever it was they both were going to meet one another as they reached the corner of the house. As she turned the growl was met with razor sharp teeth and the color of yellow eyes that glistened and glowed in the moon light. The creature rose up to jump at her as she raised the knife and shrieked a blood curdling scream.

“Sweetie what’s wrong!” her husband yelled out.

She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him.

“Are you ok?” he asked in a soft voice hoping her scream didn’t wake the children.

“Did I kill it?” was all she could whisper.

Puzzled by her response, he calmly asked, “Killed what?”

“The wolf, the one that was…” she stopped what she was saying when she realized she was laying in the comforts of their bed. It had been all but a dream. A sigh of relief escaped thought her smile as she leaned forward and into the arms of her husband. “Thank god it was only a dream.”

Later that day their youngest daughter sat quietly at the dining room table intently working on a drawing. Her mother couldn’t help but ask her young daughter, “What could it be that keeps my little girl so focused on her art work?”

“I’m making you a picture mommy.” Her voice soft and gentle coupled with a look of innocence as only a child of eight could wear.

“You are... can I see it?”

“It’s not finished.” She turned and continued once again on her master piece.

“Please?” her mother asked as she glanced over her shoulder to sneak a peek at the art work that was transpiring.

A paralyzing chill raced across her body filling her with panic as she screamed causing her husband to rush to her side.

“What wrong?” he shouted.

“It’s done. What’s the matter mommy…don’t you like my picture? Her young daughter questioned as she held it up with a deep sense of pride for her mommy and daddy to see. “It’s you mommy. I saw you kill the bad man.”

Drawn as vividly as her mother remembered, the eyes, the teeth, the moonlight - it was all there, yet there was one important detail that differed from her mother’s memory.

“How could you have known? It was only a dream?” her mother asked.

“Oh no mommy…it wasn’t a dream.”

Her husband quickly chimed in, “she probably heard us when I woke you up from that scary nightmare.”

An extreme shout out, from their sixteen year old son, filled the air outside of their home, “Dad come quick!” Everyone rushed out the front door, but nobody was there. “Dad…back here! On the porch!” a sense of urgency filled his voice that was coming from the backyard.

When they got around the corner, they all stopped and stared.

“Dad…what happened?” His son questioned in disbelief.

They couldn’t believe their eyes. The siding on their house around the window had been deeply scratched and appeared to have been pulled back as if someone or something was trying to claw their way into the house. When they moved forward to get a better look, pieces of coarse brown dog-like hair had been embedded into each scratch.

“It looks like a bear did it?” he son remarked trying to find a simple answer to sooth his growing fear.

“The bad man did it and that’s why mommy killed him.”

They all turned to look at her as she stood holding her picture in front of her that she had drawn in crayon of her mother on the porch - and the scary wolf man that tried to attack her.

What's in your basement????

It's that time of year again - Tell me your favorite things about Halloween/Fall as it's story time again. I know I haven't been up on my writing these day, but as soon as our heat wave broke, and the leaves started changing and this glorious cold air came over us - that want to write those spooky stories hit me. WAAA WHOO IT'S ALMOST FALL AGAIN! So, I'm looking for those must have spooky true story about something you've seen? Do you have a ghost that haunts the basement of your house? Maybe you know of  some type of legend that follows along the lines of something of paranormal sorts. I want to hear about it.

 

To get you in the write mode (yes pun intended) here is a little something to get your mind ready for Halloween and all the spooky stories we can dream up.

 

 

 

 

http://bu3-ret-staceybolin.blogspot.com/2012/10/mystery-of-harvest-moon-by-stacey-bolin.html

"The Sister's Curse" - Spooky Stories

13 Days until Halloween

 

 

And so it is with great pleasure I bring to you my story "The Sister's Curse" that I had promised you last weekend. I do hope that you enjoy it. It had been quite a new project for me, but I will say that I had fun, because I had just the right music to accompany me. I have attached the music I had found on YouTube. I do hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I have writing it.

 

Music to add that zing to the story.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gE1FCNFG40&feature=related

 

 

All Characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

No part of this publication my be reproduced without the written prior permission of the author.

 

~*~

 

The Sister’s Curse

By Stacey L. Bolin

Copyright 10/18/12

 

Late in the 1930’s, a terrible feud erupted between two sisters, that would not only drive a wedge between them for the rest of their lives, but until death did them part.  It had been the talk of the town that the reason behind the intense hatred was because of their mother’s last will and testament. It was because of what had been written in the Will that they carried the wish of death upon one another that festered deep within them like a cancer that could find no cure. In those days, it was a common practice in the Sheffield family that their Wills were read before the deceased were taken to their final place of slumber. It was Uncle Robert who had remarked to the town’s people that it had been stated in the mother’s will that her home would go to her favorite daughter, and that daughter knew who she was. Because there was no name provided in the document – neither daughter was given rightful ownership and had the choice of living their together or chose to sell the property. Neither sister wanting to lose the property that had been in their family for decades, decided to compromise - It was penned, the sister who falls in love, marries and bares a child shall become the rightful owner of the property and the other must leave. Without any hesitation they signed the new agreement.

 

The house was an old Victorian - a true “Queen Anne” house that had been built by the skilled hands of Francis Walter Sheffield, the great, great, grandfather of Carla and Fern Sheffield. He had spent a large portion of his life on the effort of creating all the gingerbread and trim details and an abundance of interior touches. He never knew that what he had built would one day become a family heirloom that had been appreciated by many generations who had lived there long after his passing. 

Each of the daughters had their own personal reasons why the home was very symbolic and neither willing to let the other acquire it for their own. For Carla, her memories revolved around the home during the holidays.  The home stood proud and was characterized by numerous gables, multi-sided towers, and fanciful gingerbread trim.  The hexagonal tower was the favorite focal point of the home, which created a quaint reading and sitting room that had a beautiful stone fireplace with a grand mantle made of the darkest mahogany. An even more striking sight was when a large evergreen tree stood proudly in the windows and was adorned with homemade decorations made by the family each year. To add to the Carla’s glorious memories, there wasn’t a more beautiful sight to see then when the home was being blanketed by fluffy white snow.

For Fern the home was a reminder of the dark time after her father’s passing, but it was still her home that offered her the ability to escape into a multitude of nooks and crannies within the 3rd floor sloped roof. It was there she dreamed of having a family of her own, writing poetry, and would craft glorious art work in pen and ink. It was her safe haven as she coped with the changes to her body, mind and soul in her teenage years.

Carla, the oldest, was always helping her mother in the kitchen, and was a very outgoing personality, unlike Fern who was very introverted and helped with the baking when she felt she was allowed in the kitchen. Being the younger of the two girls had its downsides, and made Fern always feel that she was not wanted or welcome in her own home. As the years move forward, their father had passed leaving the three women to take on the responsibility of keeping their Victorian beauty beautiful, but as hard times fell upon the family, the home fell into great despair. The brilliant white wash color had faded to a dismal grey and the hand crafted black shutters had all but fallen off the home. Windows were cracked, and the once crisply cut gingerbread designs were now twisting and falling from where they had been hung. The old wide floorboards were warped and lifting due to the settling of the stone foundation upon which it sat that allowed Fern 's biggest fear into the home – Mice. The once beautiful home was now clearly of no monetary value and continued to harbor growing expense to repair – But still neither sister was willing to part ways.

Carla had married a man named Jon, and Fern had married a man named Aston. Both were very handsome strapping men and could provide for each of the sisters to be on their own, but the sisters would not hear of such a thing. They were not willing to leave their home. It was difficult to have both couples living under the same roof. The gentleman adapted very well, but the sisters wouldn’t even so much as make eye contact any time they were in the same room. At night they would wish bad things upon the other. It was clear to the men that the relationship between the two sisters was becoming intensely evil with each of them wishing for the others demise so that they could be the sole owner of the homestead.

It was on a cold moonless winter night in February that Carla had awoke to the sounds of conversation in the parlor. She lit her candle on her nightstand and took it with her as she grabbed her robe and slippers and quietly crept out of the bedroom to investigate the sounds coming from downstairs. An eerie glow was cast upon the dark staircase. “Someone must have lit the fire in the fireplace.” She thought.

As she grew closer to the parlor she could hear voices talking. It was Fern and her husband. They were not aware that they had woken Carla who now stood in the shadows just beyond the firelight. What she heard filled her body with a cold deathly feeling of rage. “How could this be? I’m the favorite! This is my house!” She shouted as she came out of the darkness and into the room. You could see the whites of her eyes and the flaring of her nostrils as she spoke.

Fern just sat there with tears of fear in her eyes.

“Carla, please calm down. We just found out today that Fern is with child. The doctor says she is due in October,” commented Aston in a calm tone of voice.

As Carla stood and shook her fists in the air she screamed out at the top of her lungs, “This is my house! I’m NOT LEAVING!”

“But sister, we both signed the agreement.” Replied Fern softly as her husband held her close in his arms, worried that the news would make Carla crazed.

“But what if I were pregnant too, dear sister?”

“If that is the case, then we will have to decide another way to resolve our differences.”

“I’m the favorite!” again shouted Carla, “I curse you dear sister, may your strongest fear touch you forever, never letting you forget what you have done to me! You will be marked forever for your ways! You are nothing to me! You are dead to me!”

***

Fern had never forgotten that night as the days grew closer to the arrival of her unborn child. Carla had left the home soon after learning of her sister’s pregnancy, never to return again. The months quickly passed and soon it was October and Fern was very heavy with child. As the days went by one by one, she began to believe that her baby would be born in November; she didn’t like the idea of her child being born on the night of All Hollow’s eve.

On October 30^Th, she found herself distracted from the anticipation of the birth of her baby. “Could she really curse me?” she pondered as she sat at the kitchen table waiting for the water to boil for her tea. “What fear do I have that could mark me forever?” she continued to wonder as she stood up to get herself a tea cup from the cupboard. As she opened the door a small grey mouse quickly scurried about then ran up her arm to her neck.

Fern screamed as she flailed her arms and body around trying to shake the mouse from her clothing. Its nails had become caught in her neckline fabric.

“Get off me! Get off me!” She screamed over and over.

“What's wrong Fern!?” cried her husband and he rushed into the kitchen.

“A mouse! It’s on me! Get if off!”

What took only a few short seconds, but seemed like hours to Fern, the mouse had been removed from her clothing and taken outside to be released. When her husband came back into the kitchen, he was met with a ghostly look upon his wife’s face.

“Fern?” he questioned cautiously, “Are you OK?”

All Fern could say in a soft voice as she stood in a pool of her broken water.  -“It’s the baby. Fetch the doctor… it’s time.”

***

The labor was long and intense, as she lay upon their bed, which took her deep into early morning of Halloween. As her husband waited patiently for the doctor to come down to tell him he had a new son or daughter, there was a knock at the front door. It was Carla’s husband.

“Come in Jon. What brings you this way?” asked Aston in a sincere tone of voice.

“I must’n stay long. I have news.” His face wore a saddened and tired look.

“Are you OK, please come in and rest for a moment.”

Jon dropped his head in his hands and began to weep. “I’m sorry Aston I can’t.” he took in a deep breath and found the strength to continue speaking, “I just wanted to bring word to Fern, that her sister had died early this morning.”

Just as Jon finished speaking the sound of a newborn’s cry echoed in the halls filling the somber moment with the sounds of joy.

“Congratulations you’re a father.” Said Jon as he shook Aston’s hand and found what little ability he had to smile.

“You must stay and see our new one…please.”

Jon agreed and followed Aston up the stairs to Fern's room to look upon the newly born child. Suddenly the sounds of screaming filled the air. Both men quickly rushed up the stairs. When they opened the door, they were met with a strange sight. As the doctor handed Fern the baby, she noticed a strange marking on the right side of the baby’s neck, known as a port wine stain.

It wasn’t so much that their new baby daughter had this on her; it was what it resembled that frightened Fern. As the men grew closer to get a better look, they could not believe what met their eyes. The port wine staining upon the baby’s neck looked as if you were looking down upon a small mouse with a long tail, in the same position as the mouse that had run up Fern’s arm the day before.

“What is that?” question Jon

“Carla’s curse,” Said Aston, he then took in a big breath and sighed, “Something Fern feared the most – a mouse.”