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Shadow View Lane.
The rain and wind whipped the fallen leaves into a frenzy as the frail and terrified figure broke into a run.
It wasn’t the rain and wind Elizabeth Parsons ran from.
It was her father.
Elizabeth screamed as a cold wet hand caught her long tangled hair in its grasp. As she felt herself being pulled down to the ground, Elizabeth clutched at the air in a desperate attempt to save herself. But no invisible saviour was there to help her that night.
Even as the door leading into the side attic room closed behind them, Elizabeth sobbed, pleaded and begged for forgiveness. For months the sounds of suffering emanated from that room and an unearthly atmosphere settled on the house.
Suddenly, as if the house held its breath for a moment.. all sound stopped.
Then, a scream pierced that silence…
~~~~
Preacher Samuel Parsons never lost his temper. No matter what he was faced with or how heated the dispute became, he was always the perfect mediator. Until, that is, the day William Smith called at the house and asked for his daughters hand in marriage.
He could hear the words coming from William’s mouth. “I understand what we did was wrong sir. But I do love her and she loves me.. If you would only forgive us and give your consent for us to marry ...”
Samuel was silent for a moment. Seething anger boiled behind his usually calm demeanour before the word “NO!!” burst from his mouth. “NEVER!!”
Samuel wasn’t aware of the next few moments. He did not feel his hands wrap around William’s neck and squeeze as he shook him, repeating over and over ”No.... Never.... Never.... No!”
Suddenly Samuel seemed to come to his senses and his hands flew from William’s throat. William gasped as he felt his breath return and he stepped backwards, glad to be free from the Preachers grasp. For a moment he thanked God... but only for a moment.
The house on Shadow View Lane silently sighed as William Smith stumbled against the door which opened into the dimly lit side attic room. Invisible arms welcomed him into the room filled with shadows and for a moment William felt at peace...
The scream that broke the silence was the last sound that William heard.... And the last sound that William made...
~~~~
The house on Shadow View Lane stood tall and proud...and empty yet again. It had been almost 400 years since anyone had lived for more than a year under its roof. Neighbours, few of who were left close enough to hear, claimed they heard sounds coming from the house. Shouts and screams pierced the quiet evenings of the sleepy little Lane, and one by one the owners of the house disappeared into the night leaving it vacant once more..
It was late November. The air was cold and still. A light mist hung low over the fields bordering the lone house. As the moon rose slowly in the clear black sky, pinpoints of light illuminated the heavens and the only sound to split the silence was the sound of a car engine.
Bill Smith cursed quietly as his engine coughed and died. At least he didn’t have far to go, he thought to himself. Pulling up the collar of his jacket, he gathered his bags from the boot of the car, and made his way into the house.
Soon warmth and gentle light welcomed him. As he sat in the huge comfy chair beside the fire with a quick, but hot meal in his stomach, and a brandy adding its own warmth to his insides, it wasn’t long before Bill succumbed to the events of the day, and fell into a deep sleep.
The soft chimes of midnight could be heard in the distance as a shadow moved across the room and hovered above the sleeping figure in the chair.
Behind Bill’s flickering eyes the shadow danced, entrancing his senses with a distant lilting laughter. As he followed it from room to room he became breathless with the heady perfume that moved with the shadow. As he stood for a moment, he felt cool wispy fingers brush against his face and as the shadow faded from behind his eyes the whispered words “Come to me...” echoed through his mind.
Bill woke with a start. In those first few waking moments, he swore he could still smell the perfume that hung so heavy in his dream.
He found himself stood in the large attic room which was dimly lit by the first shards of daylight shining through the small boarded window behind him. A few small boxes congregated in one corner and odd items of furniture were dotted here and there, all covered in what looked like centuries of dust.
In front of Bill, pushed up against the wall, stood a tall oak cupboard. Unlike the other furniture stored in the attic this was free from the centuries of dust. Eerily, the light from the boarded window behind him framed the cupboard perfectly.
The back of Bill’s neck prickled, and a shiver ran though him as he walked forward and grasped the door handle. Bill pulled, gently at first, then harder when the door did not move. The whole cupboard slid slowly away from the wall, and an audible sigh echoed throughout the room.
Chills slithered through Bills body as, from behind the cupboard, he heard another sound. The sound of whispering..
Letting curiosity get the better of him, Bill moved round to the side of the cupboard and pushed it further along the wall. As it moved, the light from the window framed another door set into the wall behind it, and as he reached for the handle, the whispering quickened. Bill rested his hand on the handle for a moment before turning it slowly. As he pushed the door open, the whispering abruptly stopped.
Nothing in Bill’s life could have prepared him for the sight that he saw as he entered that room. His stomach churned and he had to fight against the bile that rose in his throat as the smell invaded his senses. The air felt thick and heavy and clung to his skin in a clammy caress.
The scene looked like an image captured and frozen in time.
In the centre of the room hovered a grey translucent figure. On the floor below it, in a pool of blood, lay the body of a woman. Her abdomen had been sliced open in a grotesque attempt at a caesarean. By her body, knelt a man, his arms covered in her blood, and held within those arms, was a baby.
As Bill stepped further into the room the grey translucent figure fused with Bill’s body and the scene came alive. The kneeling man rocked back and forth mumbling “what have I done..what have I done” over and over. Bill was so entranced by the man on the floor, he failed to see the body of the woman had gone. The man slowly raised his head, and Bill saw a look of terror on his face. “No…please…no!!” the man screamed. An icy blast raced through Bills body at the sound of the mans scream. The door behind him slammed shut, and Bill spun around.
Bill’s blood froze. His heart pounded violently in his chest and despite a voice inside his head yelling… “Get out! Run!!” Bill was paralysed.
Finally a scream broke through his lips. Elizabeth Parsons in all her bloodied glory wrapped her arms around him, and, as she placed her lips to his he heard her whisper… “Welcome home… William..”
© KarenWood
It wasn’t the rain and wind Elizabeth Parsons ran from.
It was her father.
Elizabeth screamed as a cold wet hand caught her long tangled hair in its grasp. As she felt herself being pulled down to the ground, Elizabeth clutched at the air in a desperate attempt to save herself. But no invisible saviour was there to help her that night.
Even as the door leading into the side attic room closed behind them, Elizabeth sobbed, pleaded and begged for forgiveness. For months the sounds of suffering emanated from that room and an unearthly atmosphere settled on the house.
Suddenly, as if the house held its breath for a moment.. all sound stopped.
Then, a scream pierced that silence…
~~~~
Preacher Samuel Parsons never lost his temper. No matter what he was faced with or how heated the dispute became, he was always the perfect mediator. Until, that is, the day William Smith called at the house and asked for his daughters hand in marriage.
He could hear the words coming from William’s mouth. “I understand what we did was wrong sir. But I do love her and she loves me.. If you would only forgive us and give your consent for us to marry ...”
Samuel was silent for a moment. Seething anger boiled behind his usually calm demeanour before the word “NO!!” burst from his mouth. “NEVER!!”
Samuel wasn’t aware of the next few moments. He did not feel his hands wrap around William’s neck and squeeze as he shook him, repeating over and over ”No.... Never.... Never.... No!”
Suddenly Samuel seemed to come to his senses and his hands flew from William’s throat. William gasped as he felt his breath return and he stepped backwards, glad to be free from the Preachers grasp. For a moment he thanked God... but only for a moment.
The house on Shadow View Lane silently sighed as William Smith stumbled against the door which opened into the dimly lit side attic room. Invisible arms welcomed him into the room filled with shadows and for a moment William felt at peace...
The scream that broke the silence was the last sound that William heard.... And the last sound that William made...
~~~~
The house on Shadow View Lane stood tall and proud...and empty yet again. It had been almost 400 years since anyone had lived for more than a year under its roof. Neighbours, few of who were left close enough to hear, claimed they heard sounds coming from the house. Shouts and screams pierced the quiet evenings of the sleepy little Lane, and one by one the owners of the house disappeared into the night leaving it vacant once more..
It was late November. The air was cold and still. A light mist hung low over the fields bordering the lone house. As the moon rose slowly in the clear black sky, pinpoints of light illuminated the heavens and the only sound to split the silence was the sound of a car engine.
Bill Smith cursed quietly as his engine coughed and died. At least he didn’t have far to go, he thought to himself. Pulling up the collar of his jacket, he gathered his bags from the boot of the car, and made his way into the house.
Soon warmth and gentle light welcomed him. As he sat in the huge comfy chair beside the fire with a quick, but hot meal in his stomach, and a brandy adding its own warmth to his insides, it wasn’t long before Bill succumbed to the events of the day, and fell into a deep sleep.
The soft chimes of midnight could be heard in the distance as a shadow moved across the room and hovered above the sleeping figure in the chair.
Behind Bill’s flickering eyes the shadow danced, entrancing his senses with a distant lilting laughter. As he followed it from room to room he became breathless with the heady perfume that moved with the shadow. As he stood for a moment, he felt cool wispy fingers brush against his face and as the shadow faded from behind his eyes the whispered words “Come to me...” echoed through his mind.
Bill woke with a start. In those first few waking moments, he swore he could still smell the perfume that hung so heavy in his dream.
He found himself stood in the large attic room which was dimly lit by the first shards of daylight shining through the small boarded window behind him. A few small boxes congregated in one corner and odd items of furniture were dotted here and there, all covered in what looked like centuries of dust.
In front of Bill, pushed up against the wall, stood a tall oak cupboard. Unlike the other furniture stored in the attic this was free from the centuries of dust. Eerily, the light from the boarded window behind him framed the cupboard perfectly.
The back of Bill’s neck prickled, and a shiver ran though him as he walked forward and grasped the door handle. Bill pulled, gently at first, then harder when the door did not move. The whole cupboard slid slowly away from the wall, and an audible sigh echoed throughout the room.
Chills slithered through Bills body as, from behind the cupboard, he heard another sound. The sound of whispering..
Letting curiosity get the better of him, Bill moved round to the side of the cupboard and pushed it further along the wall. As it moved, the light from the window framed another door set into the wall behind it, and as he reached for the handle, the whispering quickened. Bill rested his hand on the handle for a moment before turning it slowly. As he pushed the door open, the whispering abruptly stopped.
Nothing in Bill’s life could have prepared him for the sight that he saw as he entered that room. His stomach churned and he had to fight against the bile that rose in his throat as the smell invaded his senses. The air felt thick and heavy and clung to his skin in a clammy caress.
The scene looked like an image captured and frozen in time.
In the centre of the room hovered a grey translucent figure. On the floor below it, in a pool of blood, lay the body of a woman. Her abdomen had been sliced open in a grotesque attempt at a caesarean. By her body, knelt a man, his arms covered in her blood, and held within those arms, was a baby.
As Bill stepped further into the room the grey translucent figure fused with Bill’s body and the scene came alive. The kneeling man rocked back and forth mumbling “what have I done..what have I done” over and over. Bill was so entranced by the man on the floor, he failed to see the body of the woman had gone. The man slowly raised his head, and Bill saw a look of terror on his face. “No…please…no!!” the man screamed. An icy blast raced through Bills body at the sound of the mans scream. The door behind him slammed shut, and Bill spun around.
Bill’s blood froze. His heart pounded violently in his chest and despite a voice inside his head yelling… “Get out! Run!!” Bill was paralysed.
Finally a scream broke through his lips. Elizabeth Parsons in all her bloodied glory wrapped her arms around him, and, as she placed her lips to his he heard her whisper… “Welcome home… William..”
© KarenWood
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