Horror on Duke Street . . .A Story by Gray Witch All is NOT what it seems . . . Once
Upon a Time,
That sound �" What. Was. That. Noise? It was the sounds that had drawn Tylah
to investigate. She noticed them as soon as she got out of her car. At first,
she couldn’t place from where they were coming. Then a door slammed against a clapboard
wall and she found herself looking right inside that house, the one set far
back from street, as if it were hiding from something, or someone. She really
hadn’t paid much attention when the new people moved in a month ago. They
had kept to themselves and were rarely, if ever, seen by their neighbours. Tonight, however, was a different story. It was dark… a terribly dark, cold, Halloween-like, moonless night. The wind gusted sharply, sending the damp and decaying leaves into cyclone-like vortexes. The air was cold, crisp and moist with mist that stung all exposed skin, leaving a scent of the ripened earth. As Tylah made her way up the flag stone walk, she couldn’t help but
notice that the old house seemed to creek like it was taking laboured
breaths. More curious still, was that its decrepit, red door was wide
open, its hinges whining as the leaves were sucked inside. Tylah was tiny, with pixie like
features, long, curly, brown hair and bright blue eyes. Some would describe her
as overly brave and fearless. As she crept closer, she realized that the sounds
she was hearing were the result of a dog inside that was alternately, barking
and howling. Moving closer still, she became aware of muffled sobs, combined
with wails of tortured pain, emanating from somewhere down the dimly lit
hallway. She wanted to run… run away. However, being who she was, instead she
picked up a long branch blown off from a nearby tree and used it to drag
herself forward, since her feet seemed to be glued to the stone step portico.
Suddenly, a big tabby cat dashed out of the darkened room on the right. Through
her legs he went, making a beeline for the relative safety of the front yard
knocking Rhonda-the-Witch-on-her-Broom, Halloween decoration extraordinaire, into
the pile of leaves and twigs next to the steps. All that could be heard of poor
Rhonda, was her raspy voice: “Now I’ve got you my pretty,” over and over again… Trying to ignore Rhonda, Tylah gathered
her courage, took a deep breath, and started inside the dimly lit hallway to
find out what was going on. “Hello? Anybody here?” she called out into the
building. An eerie hollowness was all she heard in return. Everything looked normal as she passed
by the living room. So far so good,
she thought. The lights were on, but the TV was muted. A book lay on the floor
between the hutch and lazy boy chair - like it had been hastily dropped there.
A simmering cup of tea had been abandoned and left on the coffee table to grow
cold… And still the sounds… muffled words,
sobbing, barking and intermittent wails, served to remind her that all was not
well… The next room, the dinning room, was in
darkness but further down the hall a light could be seen under the swing door
leading to what she supposed was the kitchen. Two more doors separated her from
the kitchen entrance. Both were closed and she hoped fervently that they
remained so. Tylah tiptoed down the hardwood
corridor, being careful not to make a sound. Shivering in anticipation, her
adrenalin level rose the closer she got to that last door. She was not taking
any chances and found herself holding her breath as she inched closer, one hand
on the papered wall, the other on her branch. Closer. Closer . . . When she finally made it to the last
door, she stopped, trying to decide just what to do. Should she push the door
open quickly, attempting to surprise who ever was a party to the commotion she
could hear, or peak inside, trying not to be noticed. One approach would allow
her the element of surprise, the other, a chance to escape, if necessary. The decision was made for her as the
door suddenly opened and filling the doorway was a giant of a man. Blood
trickled down his forehead, his blond hair matted and tousled, parts of it
actually standing on end! His checkered shirt was a mess too. Something dripped
from his sleeve and the knees of his blue jeans were black and sticky-looking
in the hallway light. His left hand and lower arm were covered and bound with a
white towel that was almost completely red and dripping on the polished floor. Behind him, the kitchen was bright in
comparison. It appeared to be all while…well what she could see. He looked like
he was going to ask her who she was, but instead he politely said “Excuse me.”
She immediately stepped back, as he
pushed open one of the closed doors with his good hand. Apparently, from her
quick glimpse of the tiles and sink, that room was the bathroom. She watched as
he gently closed the door behind him with the sound of water swishing behind
it. The swinging door had also closed, so
here she was still standing in the hallway, knowing not much more than she had a
few minutes ago. She finally gathered her courage and pushed open the door. “Oh! My! Good Lord,” she exclaimed. The
room was indeed white, or rather, it had been white. Now it was red - and
white! What appeared to be blood splatter, slid in clumps down the cupboard
doors, dripping onto the counters. Red spray lay like jelly across the table in
the middle of the room. No surface was left undefiled. The
stove, fridge and microwave all had blood and clumps of �" something, clinging
to their surfaces. The red mess was puddled on the floor and there were two
women in the midst of this chaos, one sat mewling and shivering apparently in
shock, the other standing in the corner, eyes closed, muttering to herself. The ceiling fan revolved slowly making
a swooshing sound in the background spraying residual blood at the women and
her….Creeping quietly from under the table came the little white �" err…red dog.
No longer barking, but cowering, and silent. But where was the body? There had to be
a body somewhere. All this blood and gunk….Someone had to be horribly maimed �"
or �" dead! What could have happened here
that created this scene from a horror movie, she wondered silently? Just then, the giant from the hallway
re-entered the room. At first, he seemed surprised to see her still there, but
remembering his innate manners he quietly asked: “Mother, did you offer our
guest a drink?” His mother, who was the woman at the
table seemed to brake out of her trance and looked at Tylah for the first time:
“Would you like a drink, dear?” “No, no thank you,” she replied, still
looking around the room for some clue as to what had happened …. Holding out his good hand to shake hers
in a belated greeting, he spoke softly, “I’m Derek James and this is my
mother Elsa and over there hugging the corner is my sister Kate”. Seeing the
little dog he called: “Come here Misty, It’s okay now”… “I’m Tylah from down the street” she
said shyly. Finally, she just had to ask “What happened? I heard noises,
shrieks, and cries and all the blood…all the blood,” her voice drifting off … Turning red to match the room, he began
to explain: “I was setting up our Halloween decorations. I’d just finished
sharpening my knife - the one I use to sharpen Rhonda-the-Wtches’ post that
anchors her securely into the ground. Kate had been helping me, but went back
inside to look for Rhonda’s buddy, the mummified cat and some Halloween
lights.” Kate smiled at her and grabbed a rag
from the sink and started cleaning off the chair next to Tylah, ostensibly so
she could sit down. “I got side tracked when a branch from
the old oak tree broke in the wind.” He continued, “Going back into the house to get my
sharpener, I forgot to close the door. Mama was busy in the kitchen, and Kate
was sitting at the table unraveling the lights. Seeing my knife in my hand, she
asked me to cut up the watermelon for her before I ventured back outside.” Derek was a big man, maybe 6’4”,
blonde, muscular and handsome in a Vampire Eric from True Blood, sort of way. Telling this story made him seem smaller
somehow, she thought, giving him an encouraging smile to continue. “Well, I was trying to cut the
watermelon as I crossed the room. I turned to ask Kate if she’d seen where I
had laid the knife sharpener, when I bumped into the chair, stepped back and
tripped over the dog, cutting my hand as well as the fruit…” Embarassed he explained, “As I startled
and stumbled trying to re-gain my balance, the watermelon flew into the air,
along with the attached blood from my cut hand. And well, when the blood hit
the ceiling fan it sprayed everything within the room.” Pandemonium then ensued, causing the ruckus
that had drawn Tylah to the house. “When Mother saw the blood, she went into
shock,” he said, looking over at his mother, “ and to make matters worse, the
dog started barking at the cat, like it was the cat’s fault. Kate had screamed
when she saw my palm sliced open. From then on, every time Kate opened her
mouth, the dog howled along with her. The cat had had enough and left.” “Smart cat,” she said. “Ooops … did I say that out loud?” she asked laughing. Derek just smirked. He finished his
story saying that he grabbed a towel to try to stop the bleeding and was on his
way to wash his hand and re-bandage it when he ran into her…. And
that my friends is the story of how Tylah
met Derek… © 2013 Gray WitchAuthor's Note
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Gray Witch...Meanwhile back in Canada...near Niagara Falls, Ontario.............. (<-------------¯_(ツ)_/¯ wavin'), CanadaAboutMs Daniels, (AKA - GrayWitch) is an Environmental and Social Activist, Communications Consultant to local and provincial governments, and former Nurse. She has studied Sociology, Criminology and Devia.. more..Writing
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