Each of us has had our brush with the paranormal. Whether it be ESP, pre-cog, or ghosts, we all experience something—sometime. . .
The two story Victorian house stood in the center of lush green and gold fields in the heart of farming country. Care had been taken with the home’s renovation and the graceful lines, cornices and wrap-around porch were as fresh as the day when it had been first constructed, the classical lines and beauty a testament to the architecture of bygone days. An aura of mystery surrounded the old edifice, drawing passing strangers to stop and stare, moved by the richness of the pastoral scene.
I stepped in, standing at the doorway, allowing my eyes to adjust. I drew in a deep breath and let it out, marveling with delight. The interior was an antique collector’s dream—oak or maple wood furnishings, oil paintings and tintypes on the half-paneled walls. Throw rugs covered the solid oak floors gleaming from years of polishing by loving hands. It was as though I’d stepped back into another century. But something gave me pause. I suffered a moment of anxiety…tensing.
The scent of cooking wafted on the summer breeze. My stomach rumbled.
My host threw open her arms in welcome, chattering with excitement. “You have to take a tour of the house before we eat,” she exclaimed. “We just finished the upper floor and it’s almost all complete.”
I nodded, anticipation and the promise of food caused my mouth to water. We strolled through the lower level, the sun room, the sitting room, dining area and kitchen. Perfectly preserved as it had once been—but my nerves tingled.
She started up the staircase. “Hold on. It’s kind of steep and I don’t want you to fall.”
The staircase opened into a long hallway graced by oaken doors positioned in various places along the way leading out to an upper veranda. We meandered along, stopping to admire the wallpaper, the wall hangings, wood carvings, and the oak paneling before stepping out onto the deck. The view was fantastic. Farmland stretched into the distance tucked beneath hills and mountains towering to the azure skyline. Too beautiful for mere description.
“I’m starving,” she said. “I hope you’re hungry.”
She was a good cook and conversation was fast and furious. Our friendship was new and we hadn’t had the opportunity to visit very often, but we found numerous topics to discuss.
A grating noise caught my attention. I tilted my head, listening. Overhead, a door could be heard to open, steps walked along the upper hallway, another door opened and then closed. The hair rose on the back of my neck.
“Is someone here?” I asked, perplexed. I hadn’t seen anyone but her since I arrived.
“No, but don’t worry,” she grinned, a mischievous twist of her lips. “That’s our resident ghost.”
I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “Ghost?”
“Yeah,” she laughed. “He opens doors and leaves things around, but mostly he walks out onto the upper deck.” Blue eyes glazed over as she considered. “I think whoever it is died here and he’s looking for his lost love.” She shrugged. “Makes a good story. He doesn’t scare us anymore. Just walks around.”
Goose bumps rose on my arms. I shivered, unnerved.
“Do you want to see something really weird?” She jumped from her seat and motioned for me to follow.
Really weird? I’m not so sure. I’m not what you’d call an adventurous person and things like ghosts, witches and things that go bump in the night scare me. I believe! But I was an invited guest…
She led me up the stairs to the second floor and into her bedroom. She opened a window and leaned out. “See that round window out there?”
Dusk had settled over the panorama. Night would seen be here.
I leaned out, nodding as I located the object. About the size of a ship’s porthole like many old houses have.
She climbed out the window reaching for my hand. “Be really careful,” she cautioned. “It’s very steep out here.”
She wanted me to climb out on the roof! I don’t think so.
“Come on,” she urged. “It’s worth it.”
I inhaled, praying for courage. I climbed out, choking on terror. Vertigo seized me in its hideous clutches. Spots danced in front of my eyes. I felt faint.
She wrapped an arm around my hips. “Sit down and scoot along the roof.”
I slid down, thanking God for the brief moment of deliverance. I scooted as she instructed.
Slivers embedded themselves in my posterior, but anything was better than standing up. I reached the window.
She pushed me forward. “What do you see?”
I looked in. My eyes adjusted to the dark interior. The room might have once been a walk-in closet or perhaps a dressing room attached to the main suite. But no door opened from any wall. It was a closed room.
“What do you see?” she asked again.
I cupped my hands around my eyes to see better—shock held me motionless.
“What do you see?” She giggled, knowing what my answer would be.
“There’s a long wood box sitting on what looks like old sawhorses or something.”
I looked to her for confirmation. “It looks like an old wooden casket.”
Her eyes popped with excitement. “The ghost who walks comes out of that room, even though there’s no door. It’s been plastered over. We think it’s his body in there.” Her voice hushed.
“Maybe he was murdered and put in there by whoever did it.”
“So why don’t you bust the wall down and get rid of it?” Made sense to me. I wouldn’t live in a house with a dang coffin in it!
“We kind of like the not knowing. The notoriety. You know what I mean?”
“No,” I snapped. “I don’t know what you mean. I think it’s really creepy and I wouldn’t live here if you paid me.” Ghosts and people, at least for me, isn’t a good mix.
We crawled back inside and into the hallway. My eyes were drawn to the area where the coffin was housed. Nothing there to give any indication as to what lurked beyond.
Cold air swirled, brushing us with its chilling fingers.
“He’s coming out again,” she whispered, eyeing the wall.
My knees grew weak, my imagination rampaged. I had no desire whatsoever to see the specter. I ran from the house shaking in my shoes.
We moved from that area shortly after and I lost contact with my new friend. I often wonder if they left the casket as is or if they finally tore down the wall and found out what was in there. I’ll never know. I never went back to that house.
The two story Victorian house stood in the center of lush green and gold fields in the heart of farming country. Care had been taken with the home’s renovation and the graceful lines, cornices and wrap-around porch were as fresh as the day when it had been first constructed, the classical lines and beauty a testament to the architecture of bygone days. An aura of mystery surrounded the old edifice, drawing passing strangers to stop and stare, moved by the richness of the pastoral scene.
I stepped in, standing at the doorway, allowing my eyes to adjust. I drew in a deep breath and let it out, marveling with delight. The interior was an antique collector’s dream—oak or maple wood furnishings, oil paintings and tintypes on the half-paneled walls. Throw rugs covered the solid oak floors gleaming from years of polishing by loving hands. It was as though I’d stepped back into another century. But something gave me pause. I suffered a moment of anxiety…tensing.
The scent of cooking wafted on the summer breeze. My stomach rumbled.
My host threw open her arms in welcome, chattering with excitement. “You have to take a tour of the house before we eat,” she exclaimed. “We just finished the upper floor and it’s almost all complete.”
I nodded, anticipation and the promise of food caused my mouth to water. We strolled through the lower level, the sun room, the sitting room, dining area and kitchen. Perfectly preserved as it had once been—but my nerves tingled.
She started up the staircase. “Hold on. It’s kind of steep and I don’t want you to fall.”
The staircase opened into a long hallway graced by oaken doors positioned in various places along the way leading out to an upper veranda. We meandered along, stopping to admire the wallpaper, the wall hangings, wood carvings, and the oak paneling before stepping out onto the deck. The view was fantastic. Farmland stretched into the distance tucked beneath hills and mountains towering to the azure skyline. Too beautiful for mere description.
“I’m starving,” she said. “I hope you’re hungry.”
She was a good cook and conversation was fast and furious. Our friendship was new and we hadn’t had the opportunity to visit very often, but we found numerous topics to discuss.
A grating noise caught my attention. I tilted my head, listening. Overhead, a door could be heard to open, steps walked along the upper hallway, another door opened and then closed. The hair rose on the back of my neck.
“Is someone here?” I asked, perplexed. I hadn’t seen anyone but her since I arrived.
“No, but don’t worry,” she grinned, a mischievous twist of her lips. “That’s our resident ghost.”
I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “Ghost?”
“Yeah,” she laughed. “He opens doors and leaves things around, but mostly he walks out onto the upper deck.” Blue eyes glazed over as she considered. “I think whoever it is died here and he’s looking for his lost love.” She shrugged. “Makes a good story. He doesn’t scare us anymore. Just walks around.”
Goose bumps rose on my arms. I shivered, unnerved.
“Do you want to see something really weird?” She jumped from her seat and motioned for me to follow.
Really weird? I’m not so sure. I’m not what you’d call an adventurous person and things like ghosts, witches and things that go bump in the night scare me. I believe! But I was an invited guest…
She led me up the stairs to the second floor and into her bedroom. She opened a window and leaned out. “See that round window out there?”
Dusk had settled over the panorama. Night would seen be here.
I leaned out, nodding as I located the object. About the size of a ship’s porthole like many old houses have.
She climbed out the window reaching for my hand. “Be really careful,” she cautioned. “It’s very steep out here.”
She wanted me to climb out on the roof! I don’t think so.
“Come on,” she urged. “It’s worth it.”
I inhaled, praying for courage. I climbed out, choking on terror. Vertigo seized me in its hideous clutches. Spots danced in front of my eyes. I felt faint.
She wrapped an arm around my hips. “Sit down and scoot along the roof.”
I slid down, thanking God for the brief moment of deliverance. I scooted as she instructed.
Slivers embedded themselves in my posterior, but anything was better than standing up. I reached the window.
She pushed me forward. “What do you see?”
I looked in. My eyes adjusted to the dark interior. The room might have once been a walk-in closet or perhaps a dressing room attached to the main suite. But no door opened from any wall. It was a closed room.
“What do you see?” she asked again.
I cupped my hands around my eyes to see better—shock held me motionless.
“What do you see?” She giggled, knowing what my answer would be.
“There’s a long wood box sitting on what looks like old sawhorses or something.”
I looked to her for confirmation. “It looks like an old wooden casket.”
Her eyes popped with excitement. “The ghost who walks comes out of that room, even though there’s no door. It’s been plastered over. We think it’s his body in there.” Her voice hushed.
“Maybe he was murdered and put in there by whoever did it.”
“So why don’t you bust the wall down and get rid of it?” Made sense to me. I wouldn’t live in a house with a dang coffin in it!
“We kind of like the not knowing. The notoriety. You know what I mean?”
“No,” I snapped. “I don’t know what you mean. I think it’s really creepy and I wouldn’t live here if you paid me.” Ghosts and people, at least for me, isn’t a good mix.
We crawled back inside and into the hallway. My eyes were drawn to the area where the coffin was housed. Nothing there to give any indication as to what lurked beyond.
Cold air swirled, brushing us with its chilling fingers.
“He’s coming out again,” she whispered, eyeing the wall.
My knees grew weak, my imagination rampaged. I had no desire whatsoever to see the specter. I ran from the house shaking in my shoes.
We moved from that area shortly after and I lost contact with my new friend. I often wonder if they left the casket as is or if they finally tore down the wall and found out what was in there. I’ll never know. I never went back to that house.
Absolution
by P.L. Parker
eBook ISBN: 9781615723164
Price:
Genre: Paranormal
Sub Genre: Paranormal
Novel of 94640 words
Heat rating: 3
Edited by Alison O'Byrne
Cover Artwork by Dawné Dominique
Print ISBN: 9781615723171
About the book:
For years, travelers in the French Vosges Mountains heard the wailing of a woman echo in the hollows. Her cries went unbidden. No one was brave enough to seek out the source. Over time, the screams lessen, then stop. Eventually, even the memories slipped away, forgotten.
Six centuries later, two over-eager research assistants find and release the young half vampire, Chloe—unaware of events they unwittingly unleash with her.
Far away, other forces are aware of her awakening. Zaccarius, greatest of all the Slayers, is sent by the Council of Nine to seek out Chloe, determine her worth and render justice. Enticed by her purity and innocence, he becomes her protector. However, Jochad, the Dark Master and his army of evil vampires are eager to claim Chloe.
In the battle that ensues, Zaccarius falls beneath Jochad’s army. To save her lover, Chloe must make a choice. Ancient and dying, Jochad needs her blood to reanimate. His ultimatum—her blood or Zaccarius’ life.
Would you like to win an ecopy of Absolution?
One lucky reader will win
To enter leave a comment on this post
Winner TBA Next Wednesday
Posts
