The Creature in the House

A Story by JRC Talberg

A flash fiction story that I entered into a WPR ghost story competition.

A house is there. There, at the end of the road, where the trees are thick, and the night is black. It is in the country, where few go, except the lost. It is a large house; and was once grand, with huge windows and towering turrets. But since then, the wood has taken over, vines and roots sneaking into what was once finely manicured lawn.

Every year, when the moon is largest, there is a gathering around the house. It is a most evil conference, with beings of an unspeakable nature. I was there once, when hell took the manor for a night.

It was a cool night. I was out looking for a colleague’s house, to which I had papers to deliver.

The dusty roads were shrouded in an odd mist, a mist too cold. Shadows crept in the pinewoods, to either side of the narrow country lane, cast by the moon hanging bright in the sky. It was silent, save the rustling of leaves caused by the gentle breeze.

I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, or perhaps not. Maybe the house stalks its victims, follows them, some hellish trick prescribed by the devil himself. Either way, I came upon it that night.

The lane leading to it was long. The mansion appeared as if out of the ground, from the mist. It was immediately an eerie sight.

I will tell you what comes next if you promise only to repeat it when the sun is shining, when the earth is mans, and the demons sleep.

When I had seen it was not a familiar place, I had stopped to take my bearings.And then, the scream.It was a blood curdling scream that echoed in the trees. A terrible scream, long and loud.And in the window was a face. Pressed against the glass, with flesh grown over its eyes, and skin pale as the mist, was a creature. Its mouth was wide, gaping, toothless, and it continued its scream.

From out of the forest came a chant, in a dark language. It filled my ears, from every direction. The creature disappeared from the window. Then the chanting stopped.

A minute of pure, utter silence. A silence more chilling than the scream. To break the quiet, came drums. It was a deep, throbbing beat.

From the doorway, the grand double doors reduced to ruins, the creature came, carrying a bloody goat on its back. It spoke to me in the strange tongue.

Somehow, I understood the words it spoke. It told me a story of pain, of revenge. A story of the deepest, most inescapable pain imaginable. It spoke of hell, and death, and its destiny. It spoke of torture, of eternity, of deception. It spoke of lies, and of fate.

I remember its voice, even now. A slow, croaking voice, that rings from the past, and into my ears.He spoke his final words to me. He told me to repent, or become him. He faded away into the mist.

I drove away from that place with haste. When I glimpsed in my mirror, for a second, I perceived the Manor to be grand again. It must have been a trick of the light.

Do not look for that house. Heed my warnings, and stay away. For if you look to find the place, and you do not succeed, it will most certainly find you

© 2012 JRC Talberg

Author's Note

Some of the paragraph structure may be a little jumbled from the copy and pasting.

My Review

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Featured Review

Mikael Malmberg

The paragraph structure didn't really bug me, but rather some other errors such as the randomly missing spaces after a dot.

I liked your style of writing, but it still left me kind of in the dark about this story. It began well, but then kind of died as there was no conflict. Nothing really spooky after all that buildup. I think that you should work on that; you foreshadowed something horrible to happen, but then it didn't.