My
neighbors are quiet people. I rarely see them, but when I do there's
always a friendly wave or a warm smile. We almost never interact, so when
they asked me over for dinner I was a little surprised. And truthfully a
little uncomfortable - I had gotten used to our somewhat antisocial
relationship. I had grown accustomed to our distance. I'm a bad
liar, so it was easier to say yes
than to make up some excuse. They told me the night and the time and I told
them I would be looking forward to it.
I'll admit that I had a very nice time. We didn't say much
during dinner, but I felt welcome, comfortable, and relaxed. Closer to 8:00,
I noticed they had begun glancing at a clock on the wall. Often, and with
great discomfort. And then with a palpable panic.
They feigned reassurance when I asked about their change in
demeanor. They both attempted to explain their behavior in overlapping
dialogue. I found this particularly unsettling. Over their frantic
words, I announced my appreciation for their hospitality and began to stand.
But then he asked, "Do you believe in ghosts?"
I
was startled by the question and very uncomfortable. I wanted to
leave. Badly. I answered his question and told him that I had an
open mind to such things. And he asked me to sit.
He told me that he and his wife have had experiences.
He said that their house had a presence...a ghost. He said that it came
often. Every night in fact. He said it started in a corner of the
basement, came up the stairs, opened the cellar door, and walked through the
living room, into the dining room, and through the furthest wall. He
pointed at the wall next to where I was sitting.
I realized this was the purpose of the invitation. They wanted a witness. Needed one. I could only think of two questions: What does it look like? and When does it happen?
He answered my last question first: At 8:18. Every single night.
We looked at the clock on the wall - 8:12.
Then he answered my first question: We don't know what it looks like.
When I asked him to explain, he told me they had both been unable to look at the presence. He said he and his wife have tried all these years, but can't. I found this absurd. And the entire story, which I had actually begun to believe was now either a hoax, a distasteful joke, or a delusion of two very disturbed people. I pushed back my chair and stood.
A noise. From under our feet, in the basement. They looked down at their plates. I looked at the clock - 8:18.
I could hear deep slow labored footsteps. They sounded miles beneath us, but I knew that wasn't the case. And then I felt the vibration. A sickening wave of a nauseating low hum forced me hard into my chair, my legs and knees weak and useless. I could hear the basement stairs creaking underneath a massive shifting weight. I wiped cold sweat from my face. The nausea was unlike anything I had ever felt. I heard the knob of the cellar door be gripped, and then turned. Slowly. The door began to open. The vertical crack of darkness from the creaking door seemed to release an even more intense low frequency hum. I tried to stare into the darkness, to see. To see IT.
But the putrid vibration was overwhelming. My body contracted. My legs and arms were drawn inward. My entire body gripped the chair. I could feel the muscles of my face contorting, and my eyes, as much as I fought to keep them open, closed. Tight.
I could hear It. Moving across the wood beams of the living room floor. They seemed to be groaning and splitting. The sickening waves of vibration seemed to rattle every loose object in the house. I wanted to cover my ears, but the piercing hum kept me frozen in place. I tried to scream out, but the muscles of my jaw refused. So I listened to it, coming closer and closer. Ripples and waves of the sickening sound covered me. I felt myself on the verge of fainting. And I welcomed it.
But then It was gone. I opened my eyes. Just the three of us, in a quiet undisturbed house. Nothing seemed out of place. Except for the open cellar door.
That was three months ago. We haven't spoken since. And each night, despite making every effort to be busy or out of my house altogether, I find myself standing at the window which faces their house. Looking out across our ordinary lawns. Staring at that wall. At 8:18.
I realized this was the purpose of the invitation. They wanted a witness. Needed one. I could only think of two questions: What does it look like? and When does it happen?
He answered my last question first: At 8:18. Every single night.
We looked at the clock on the wall - 8:12.
Then he answered my first question: We don't know what it looks like.
When I asked him to explain, he told me they had both been unable to look at the presence. He said he and his wife have tried all these years, but can't. I found this absurd. And the entire story, which I had actually begun to believe was now either a hoax, a distasteful joke, or a delusion of two very disturbed people. I pushed back my chair and stood.
A noise. From under our feet, in the basement. They looked down at their plates. I looked at the clock - 8:18.
I could hear deep slow labored footsteps. They sounded miles beneath us, but I knew that wasn't the case. And then I felt the vibration. A sickening wave of a nauseating low hum forced me hard into my chair, my legs and knees weak and useless. I could hear the basement stairs creaking underneath a massive shifting weight. I wiped cold sweat from my face. The nausea was unlike anything I had ever felt. I heard the knob of the cellar door be gripped, and then turned. Slowly. The door began to open. The vertical crack of darkness from the creaking door seemed to release an even more intense low frequency hum. I tried to stare into the darkness, to see. To see IT.
But the putrid vibration was overwhelming. My body contracted. My legs and arms were drawn inward. My entire body gripped the chair. I could feel the muscles of my face contorting, and my eyes, as much as I fought to keep them open, closed. Tight.
I could hear It. Moving across the wood beams of the living room floor. They seemed to be groaning and splitting. The sickening waves of vibration seemed to rattle every loose object in the house. I wanted to cover my ears, but the piercing hum kept me frozen in place. I tried to scream out, but the muscles of my jaw refused. So I listened to it, coming closer and closer. Ripples and waves of the sickening sound covered me. I felt myself on the verge of fainting. And I welcomed it.
But then It was gone. I opened my eyes. Just the three of us, in a quiet undisturbed house. Nothing seemed out of place. Except for the open cellar door.
That was three months ago. We haven't spoken since. And each night, despite making every effort to be busy or out of my house altogether, I find myself standing at the window which faces their house. Looking out across our ordinary lawns. Staring at that wall. At 8:18.
40 comments:
creepy....
Did you write this? Super creepy & awesome.
Yup. That's one of mine. : )
I tagged my other stories with "Ghost stories"...so you can click that label to see some others.
Thanks! Glad you liked it.
That was a GREAT story. I found myself reading it faster as I went on to see what it looked like.
Great work! Any particular inspiration or just something you come up with out of nowhere?
Thanks : )
Just a thought I once had. If a neighbor or family member told you that something came through their house every single night at a specific time, what that'd be like waiting for that time to arrive.
Great story. Could almost feel the nausea.
Your stories are the best!
Spooky as all get-out, and like your others, this one will have me thinking about it for quite a while.
How you manage to put so much character and content into a short story is a gift - to you and to us.
Thank you.
WOW.
Thanks so much, guys : )
amazing story--I found myself reading faster and faster to see what happened!
Whew... that was tense. I see that this is a story of your own creation Mr. Rot. Kudos to you sir, it was chilling!
That is really impressive. You truly have a gift.
Absolutely LOVED this! Couldn't stop reading. Great pace, great build, great details...Incredible writing!!!
This was really good! Just what I needed on a boring work morning.
Thanks. Glad you liked it.
dude you are AMAZING...Honestly..
i totally agree with Pam---i Raced to the end...
you have that Special Gift of being able to write "So Everyday"....
like the way Lovecraft is able to,especially in stories like,"The Shadow Over Innsmouth"..
& you make these Amazing Creations with your hands...
Plussss...you have a Killer Blog---because you Care & take the time to..
You're a Renaissance Man Rot... :)
now i'm all embarrassed and whatnot.
hey, thanks : )
Really cool! I'm not super familiar with "horror" writing but I've never heard a ghost described like that! Visceral! ...Felt like a weight was lifted after I finished reading.
Don't be embarrassed...
We ALL just Appreciate You & Bean...
:) :) :)
Awesome story!!!!! Seriously.. I love it!
I love reading your stuff, Rot. You're definitely on par with (or even better than) many of the well-known/published authors I've read.
Still waiting on that book you need to come out with one day....
:)
Wow Rot, Awesome story! I read this at 6 am and have thinking about it all day. Guess where I'll be tonight at 8:18.......in my driveway with a camera
Jesus...did you go to school for this sort of thing? Or do you do it at work? That story grabs your attention right from the start.
Great work.
And the forecast for weds is scaring the sh*t out of me!
hey thanks : )
Nah...just a hobby.
Most years the weather forecast has been exactly what's happening now. Rain, then rain the day before, then rain supposedly on Halloween. Then nothing.
I'm going to wait to panic until Monday morning's forecast.
That was really intense.clo
Wow Rot!! That was awesome!! You need to write a story book, " pumpkinrot's haunted tales"
VERY great, indeed. I also agree with Grim.
I thought it was an actual occurrence at first! So believable.
That was great! it is very visual and I could imagine it very clearly.
Dammit!
I totally thought this was a true story until I read the comments. I was reading wide-eyed and white-faced.
Fantastic story...
Even if it is fiction.
:D
That was great!! I Loved it :D
I actually looked for the link to read more about this story, and clicked on comments instead and saw that u wrote this!!!
Really Awesome!!
A truly creepy, effective story for the High Season! Keep 'em coming!
Well I'm sure you can tell I'm new to your blog. Altough that may be the case, you have been a very large influence on me with my Halloween creations for the last few years. Now that being said, discovering your writings have now brought a completely new appreciation for the craft of short story writing. I just told you the other day how much I enjoyed Night Shift but this one gave me goosebumps, had me short of breath, and had me looking towards my stairs. I wanted you to know this because when a writer can invoke such a powerful response from the reader, well I believe it is the underlying reason he puts the pen to the paper. Just tremendous sir -
I really REALLY appreciate that, man.
Would I be allowed to read this for our listeners? It's just been on my mind for the last few days. It's sooo frickin good-
Sure thing, man : )
Thanks so much Rot- Not only are people going to just absolutely love this story but the will love it so much more knowing that it came from you. Thanks again for your permission.
I remember the first time I read this. It’s just as good now as it was then.
Hey, thanks! I really do appreciate that!
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