The Basement (Part 1)

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(Please be aware this story contains adult sexual content.) 

The new house was perfect. I know nothing can actually be a hundred percent perfect, but God this place was for us! As we pulled up outside the black Gothic cemetery style gates, the two moving vans slowed behind us and I finally let my wife, Raven, take off the blindfold.

‘You can look now,’ I whispered in the husky voice I use to seduce her in the bedroom.

She giggled a little and pulled the blindfold down so it wouldn’t mess up her long pink and purple streaked curled black hair. I watched her closely as she looked first out of the screen window of the converted hearse then the passenger window. She gasped, her face lit up and she sprang from the car.

‘Oh my God! Really? You got it? It’s our’s? she gushed, the words tripping over each other as they passed her black painted lips.

I got out of the car. Even though I could happily have stared at her large nicely rounded bum in her favourite tight black leather skirt for longer. I wanted to see her face. I came to her side, rested against the hearse and put my arm around her.

‘Yes,’ I answered.

‘Oh, Crow!’ she cried and threw her arms around my neck.

I was suffocated in a tight hug with her breathing hard in my ear. I squeezed her back, loving the feel of her weight in my arms and the softness of her black velvet Victorian frock coat under my fingers.

She moved her head and kissed me hard on the lips. Our noses mushing together. I didn’t let her withdraw but pressed more against her, desperate to be inside her mouth. My hands dropped to her bum, my fingers grasping her leather skirt and pinning her body to mine.

I felt a slice of coldness against my back as Raven tugged the edges of my black heavy metal German band t-shirt up and slipped her hands into the waist band of my black jeans. I had thrown my leather jacket in the car before we had set off. It was a typical warm but wet English summer.

I parted her lips with the tip of my tongue and pressed harder against her lips. Our tongues meet and years of practise let us rub and twist tongues without getting tangled in each other’s piecing. I heard Raven let out a little moan and the urge to remove the barriers of our clothes grew.

A loud coughing came from to the right of us and I had to ease off. I shot a disgruntled glance at the moving men. How dare they interrupt my surprise! Raven wiggled against me and I released my tight hold. Whilst I sighed and shot the men a few more unhappy looks, my wife caught her breath then rushed to the tall gates and wrapped her fingers around the iron bars. She pressed her face close and looked up like a child in pure wonder.

Fighting the urge to run to her and grab her from behind, I walked down the side of the hearse and opened the back passenger door. It was crammed with small cardboard and plastic boxes which contained precious things we couldn’t trust with the removal men. The long back space of the hearse was just as full and there were also suitcases.

‘Can I have the keys?’ Raven called.

‘Of course,’ I answered.

Closing the door I walked back to her and pulled the ring keys from my tight black jeans pocket. Raven squealed softly; a cute excited child sound. I pressed the heavy, dark keys into her hands and watched her study them all.

‘This one has to be the gate key!’ she said proudly, holding up a long big black key.

She slotted it into the large lock and turned it easily. Then together we parted both of the gates. The old metal squeaked a little then settled. Before us lay a wide stone crushed driveway flanked by dead seas of grass on either side. Around the edges a low red stone brick wall ran but it was mostly covered by tall evergreen trees and bushes which hide the Gothic manor house from the road.

I took Raven’s hand and we walked up the driveway. Our new home towering over us was like a Halloween haunted house. It was  actually an classic 1800’s English building but over the years people had added to it, including an American family. The dark brown bricks had been painted black, the fancy Gothic window frames were made of iron and lead. Two small towers stuck out at the sides, their pointed roof tops piercing the sky. There was a wide porch area with a black fence around it guarding the wooden double front doors.

Raven slipped her hand from mine and ran up the rest of the driveway. She went up the long low four stone steps and began searching for the right key to the front door.

I looked over my shoulder and saw two of the moving men, opening the gates and the others drove the vans in. The white, boxy vans looked totally out of place in a driveway made for horses and carriages.

Turning back, I went and joined Raven at the front door, trying not to let my irritation show. I should have asked them to arrive at 3pm instead of coming with us a  hour before hand. They were ruining this moment!

Raven, who didn’t seem to mind, found the key and slotted it into the keyhole. She turned it and with a glance at me, opened the door. The hinges squeaked loudly as all good haunted Gothic mansions should. Sadly, though no bats flew out at us.

Giggling, Raven reached for a rope that was tucked up beside the door. She pulled it and a loud bell give off a doom like ring that echoed through the house. Raven laughed and opened the door wider. I wished that a creepy male servant would appear and welcome us in.

Raven stepped into the hallway then began rushing from room to room. Randomly speaking out about this or that lamp or window or piece of furniture.

‘Look at this chair! The wood panelling is so good! Can you smell that? Cinnamon….Oh wow, that painting! What’s through here…’ her voice faded.

I just stood and took it all in. The air smelt a little musty but otherwise clean, a few old cobwebs still hung in the hardest to reach places. I pictured more of them soon enough and whole colonies of spiders. Raven loved them and was forever rescuing them all.

I looked up at the grand staircase which led to the first floor which was currently in darkness. I searched around and finding the light switch box turned them all on. The soft gloom that we had walked into faded and the glow of old light bulbs enriched everything.

A noise at the front door got my attention. I turned and sighed. The moving men had appeared again.

‘Right, where you be wanting all of this then?’ the leader of the group asked.

‘Wherever you want,’ I replied grumpily, ‘we’ll only have to sort it all out again.’

Leaving them, I went and found Raven. She was in one of the living rooms, looking at a bookcase crammed with old books. Her fingers were running over the leather covers, the few rings she wore making her tapping louder.

I sank down into a leather arm chair that was covered by a dust sheet. Placing my arms on the rests, feet stretched before me and head thrown back. I shut my eyes and smelled this room. The air was heavy with books of course, but also the faint scent of pipe smoke and wood polish.

‘How did you do it, Crow?’ Raven uttered, her voice soft and sexy.

I felt her fingers brushing my hair and face.

‘It was hard,’ I sighed, ‘but I wanted to do it for you. For us.’

Raven eased herself into my lap. I smiled, loving the weight of her plump, curvy frame. I wrapped my arms around her and she started playing with my long black hair. Twice she caught the dangling skull and cross bone in my ear and had to untangle a strand of hair.

‘Must have been a lot of money,’ she spoke into my neck.

‘It was….lots of loans and favours. Don’t worry about it. I promised you I’d give you whatever you wanted,’ I replied.

‘But this house! This actual house! The one we dream of for so long but knew we never could have! How did you persuade the owners?’

I grinned, lend in close and kissed her cheek. I breathed into her ear then whispered, ‘I sold my soul to the Devil.’ At the same time, I slipped my hands down her back  and grabbed her bum.

Raven jumped and cried out. Then laughing, she playfully hit my cheek and said, ‘Crow! you didn’t!’

I laughed tossing my head back, the sight of the dark cream ceiling swim before me. Then I dropped my hand and nuzzled into her neck whilst my hands worked their way around her. I kissed her neck, pressing my lips hard against her skin. Raven moaned in my ear. My fingers trailed across her legs and underneath her skirt. A wave of warmth wrapped around my hand drawing me further in.

A loud crashing caused us both to pause. Raven’s breath caught in her throat then she let it go in a swoosh as we both looked towards the half open door.

Swearing and the raised voices of the moving men could be heard in the hallway.

Raven let the tension go and sank back against me.

‘I hope that was nothing breakable,’ I growled.

‘Maybe, we should go see?’ Raven answered.

She kissed me and slipped from my lap.

To Be Continued…

No More

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The theme park had stood empty for years. The rides rusting away, nature slowly reclaiming the land back. Animals came and went, making their homes in the now forever dark Haunted House and the infamous Hall Of Mirrors. The wind played through the Big Wheel, making it rock and creak eerily. Water lapped in the lake and against the sides of the Swan Boats  and the Bumper Boats.

People sometimes came still. They vandalised what they could, took things they could sell and did dodgy dealings. Other people were more respectful. They looked, took photos and memories before leaving in peace.

The demons didn’t enjoy when the mortals invaded their space. In the daytime, they were weak and busy working to do anything about it. At night though, the demons came together and did whatever they could to make people stay away from the abandoned theme park.

To the demons this land was now theirs. People had left it, so way should they be allowed back on it? There weren’t many places left the demons could linger safely together. However, the humans kept arriving in greater numbers since the location of the place had gotten out on the internet. And now someone was bound to see one of the demons and freak out as mortals often do.

The demons decided they weren’t going to take from the humans ever again. If they banded together and made a plan to take over then it would solve a lot of their issues. Slowly, all the demons began together. Their hour was near.

Dead Line

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The house phone rang and because I was hard at work editing my magazine, I picked it up on auto.

‘Hello?’ I spoke.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Guilding,’ an man with a heavy Indian accent spoke.

I frowned into the phone. A cold caller for sure. I carried on typing away, too busy to stop.

The voice continued speaking without seeming to pause for breath, ‘my name is Kevin and I am calling you from the Peoples’ Life Survey. May I ask you some household questions? It’ll only take a few minutes of your time.’

‘Sorry, I’m not interested…’ I cut in.

‘Please, Mrs. I shall make it as quick as possible,’ Kevin voice’s rushed.

I sighed. I didn’t have time for this. I went to say goodbye and hang up the phone but Kevin bet me to speaking.

‘Don’t worry!’ he said.

Then the line went dead.

Puzzled, I took my phone from my ear before pressing it back again. The dial tone beeped like a steady heartbeat. I hit the end call button and placed the phone down. I could get on with my editing again.

A strange feeling crept over me. My mind began turning over those words and making them into some sinister.

I stopped working and got up. I had been sat for about four hours. Now, my body became awake. I had to use the bathroom and get a drink, maybe some food. Walking past the window, I peered out through the blinds. Everything looked normal out there. I walked out of the study, went to the bathroom then the kitchen.

Whilst I was making coffee and a sandwich, the phone rang again.

Ah! Kevin. We must have just got cut off. There’s nothing weird going on.

I picked up the kitchen phone, fully expecting to hear his voice again. Instead all I got was a beeping sound followed by white noise.

I checked the phone out, wondering if it was something wrong with my line. Placing the phone back, I picked it up again. The dial tone was just as steady as before. Shrugging, I finished making my late lunch and went into the conservatory to eat it.

The glass room was warm and comforting. The pale walls and wicker furniture give it a summer feel though looking outside the weather had decided to rain today. Settling into the sofa, I listened to the wind and rain outside, relaxing into the silence.

The phone rang. I had sandwich in my mouth. Swallowing, I got up and answered the phone.

‘Hello?’ I spoke.

The line was fuzzy was static.

A voice broke through, ‘Kevin…The Peoples’ Life Survey…I ask you question?’

‘I’m sorry. The line is really bad,’ I responded.

‘Make it quick, yes,’ Kevin shouted.

‘No. Bye.’

I hung up the phone.

When I had finished lunch, I sat for a few more minutes and watched the rain fall. Kevin was still on my mind. What was that all about? I glanced at the phone. Willing it to ring, so I could asked him.

The phone stayed silent for the rest of the day.

The Stenham House

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Everyone has heard of the haunted house at the end of the street and the one at the end of mine was no different. The Stenham House looked ancient and nothing returned there expect for crows. Though the place couldn’t have been older then any of the other houses around. Neglect and abuse had caused it to age a hundred plus years and the fact it had been abandoned for twenty of those years now didn’t help.

Standing before it, I took the place in for the last time. Nature had pretty much taken over and it was hard to see a red brick and white wood frame under all that green. There was no fence and the wild front garden came right up to the pavement. The reminds of a driveway poked through the tall grass. As far as I could tell all the doors and windows were locked and still intact.

I had lived next door to the place all my life and could just about remember the last family who had lived there. Somewhere, I have a photo of me and the three children, all older then myself standing in front of the house. I was about five and wearing a horrible red and white polka dress. The two boys had been in jeans and t-shirts whilst their sister was in a white dress. As an only child, it had felt nice to be accepted into a bigger family.

Then one day they had vanished, left in the middle of the night never to return. No one knew what had happened nor did anyone try to find out. I guess I’d asked about it and my parents had probably told me they had moved away, but I had no memory of it. What I did know was that no for sale sign had ever appeared and the Stenham house had been left to finish rotting away.

I walked around the back, the grass and flowers crunching under my boots. There seemed nothing menacing about the place in the bright summer sunshine. At night though the house became something else…Alive was the only way to describe it. Lights flashed on and off in windows, things were moved about, voices and crying could be heard but never fully made out.

A crow called out loudly, startling me. I looked up, saw flash of black on a window ledge and heard a flapping of wings. Not stopping, I rounded the corner. The back garden stretched like an unexplored jungle. Bees and other insects were buzzing about and a ginger cat was lurking in the shade of a tall bush. I walked into the middle, feeling a touch of dampness against my legs.

The roof had caved in and I could see slices of the rooms on the upper two floors. A thin curtain was fluttering in the breeze and a piece of pattern wallpaper was also moving in the first room. There was the edge of a wardrobe in the second window and the possible grey frame of a bed in the third. On the next floor, I could see children’s wallpaper peeling away and the edge of a wooden bed frame.

I fell into thinking whilst I took this all in. Everyone knew the story of the Stenham house, it was something of a legend in my town. Though really, no one was sure of the whole truth. The house had been built for Doctor James Stenham who had moved from the city with his wife who was also a doctor and their four children in the late 1800’s. They had held clinic in the house and offered illegal services, like abortions.

Across the next ten years, first the children one after the other then his wife died. Stenham tried to save them all though experiments which often involved other dying people, corpses and animals. He went insane, convinced he could bring them all back if he could just discover how to do it. He kept pet crows for company and barely talked to anyone.

Thirty years later, he was found dead at the bottom of the staircase. It had been made to look like he had fallen but he had been murdered. The rumour was Stenham had been killed by a man avenging his lover’s the death after the illegal abortion the doctor had given her.

From then on, only a few people had lived in the house and they had reported the place as being haunted. It had never seemed to be bother me expected for finding it harder to make friends and children telling me strange stories about the house next door. I had never heard the babies crying, the woman wailing or the screams in the dead of night. Nor had I seen the lights flashing in the windows, the sounds of furniture being moved or the footsteps. Perhaps, though I hadn’t been listening hard enough.

Coming back the front, I spotted a crow watching me from the collapsing porch. The black of it’s feathers and eyes looked out of place against all the green. The crow called loudly at me as if warning me to stay away. Keeping to the edge of the grass, I walked back to the pavement. When I reached it, I turned and saw that the crow had been joined by eight others. They were silently watching me.

Hurrying away, I went to say goodbye to the old woman who lived opposite the Stenham house. She had been a good neighbour and my babysitter for many years. I knocked on the door of her nicely kept house and waited for her to answer. I stole a few glances over my shoulder and saw the crows were still there.

 

(Inspired from: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/05/26/first-line-friday-26-05-17 with thanks)

Death X

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Something awakes you and your eyes open slowly. It takes a few seconds to realise you are looking at the bathroom ceiling and are laying on the floor beside the tub. Easily up, you rub your head and face, wondering how you ended up here.

Placing your hands on the cold bathtub, you get to your feet. You notice there’s no water in the tub but there is strange red stains around the plug hole, on the bath’s sides and across the white tiles. Even though it’s smeared, one of the stains on the tiles looks like a hand print….

You turn to the sink. Run the cold tap and splash water on your face. Feeling a little better, you walk into your bedroom. At that point you realise you are naked. Pinging with worry, you snatch a long t-shirt and shorts off your bed and put them on. You listen, wondering if you are still alone in the house.

Hearing nothing, you drift around your room trying to figure out what happened. You decided you must have slipped getting out of the bath. Going to the clock, you look at the time and see it’s past midnight. Four hours have past since you were in the bath.

Something on your desk catches your eyes and you go over. The desk is normally tidy, that’s how you like it, everything put away and organised. It helps you to think clearly. There’s a sheet of notebook paper right in the middle of the desk. Picking it up, you began reading and quickly realise this is a suicide note in your handwriting with blood droplets across it.

How can this be? You managed to say before your head becomes too filled with puzzlement and panic. You try to calm, to take deep breaths. You sink on to the chair and focus on the letter. You notice a date at the top. It was three days ago.

Everything starts to click into place. You recall the bathtub and tiles with the red stains. So it must be true, you decided. However, you can’t remember anything. Re-reading the letter a few times the more you get a feeling that something just isn’t right.

Dear Diary #34

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Dear Diary,

I’m curled up in the bathtub right now waiting for the thunderstorm to be over. I’ve turned out all the lights and unplugged everything electrical, as you should. I’m writing this by the three tea light candles balanced at then end of the tub and my camping torch. It’s kinda creepy which is making me even more anxious.

I can hear the wind howling and rattling the trees outside like a giant beast enraged. I want to peek out of the frosty glass window to make sure that’s not actually true right now but I can’t. My legs don’t want to move and my body feels like a half set jelly.

The rain is pouring down like a tsunami. It sounds like the very sea is going to wash my house away. It’s so loud alongside the wind and the deep rumbles of thunder that I can’t hear anything else. This would be the perfect time for a serial killer to break inside my house because I would never hear them coming.

Is there actually someone else inside right now? I’m listening hard diary, but I can’t because things are creaking and banging about. I’m sure it’s just the trees against the windows and loose things in garden….

What if someone is trying to get in?

I can’t go and see! I can barely keep moving my hand to write this. Think, think…okay… The bathroom door is locked and who’d want to use the bathroom if you were breaking in anyway? Wait though….doesn’t everyone hide and get murderer in bathrooms?

Maybe, I should have left before the storm arrived. Gone stayed with friends or family or just found some place to hide in my car. A jail cell might be safer right now. Or another country.

Ah! What am I thinking? They said it was only going to be a small storm…Lightening just flashed, it was loud and bright, crackly and caused all my hair to stand on end. I couldn’t see it clearly in the frosted glass but I saw it enough!

I need to hide some more. Going to put my second sleeping bag over my head. That’ll make me look like a body, so if a serial killer is going through my house right now and he makes it to the bathroom, he’ll think I’m already dead.

So long diary! If I survive this see you tomorrow.