The Empty Lot

In the next entry, the local tells the story of a wealthy newcomer and an ominous empty lot.

Right smack in the middle of town, on the corner where two roads converge, there is an empty lot. Tall, sickly green weeds grow amongst its knee-deep grass, with a small gold dandelion here and there. It’s big enough to fit a large house in, and yet it’s been empty for as long as we can remember. Construction goes on elsewhere in the neighborhood, but those who are looking for a place to live avoid the lot like the plague. The reason? Well, this lot’s reputation is quite grim.

   The first ever incident involving the empty lot was quite a while ago, maybe six or seven years. Everyone was going about their business when we all noticed a car coming down the--usually empty--road towards the town. We were all quite surprised, given that we don’t get very many visitors. The car was a royal blue cadillac that practically radiated wealth and pride. It made its way through town and eventually reached the home of Ms. Dana Mewweld, a woman who was well into her 70s and living in a large bungalow with her many strange and exotic pets. Because she did not have any human company, she had one or two extra rooms, so she was offering them for rent. Anyway, the cadillac pulled into her gravel driveway and its driver got out. The owner of the vehicle was a stocky, intimidating mountain of a man with tan skin and dark brown hair slicked back against his head. He wore a fine tailored suit that glimmered in the sunlight and a gold watch on his wrist. He sauntered up to the front door and knocked. Ms. Mewweld answered, chinchilla on her shoulder and iguana at her feet as usual, and had to look up at least three feet before she met the face of the man. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was several moments before she found her voice.

 “Y-yes?” she stammered, quaking slightly. The man peered at her over the rim of his dark sunglasses.

“Name’s Teddman. Otto Teddman. I noticed you have a room for rent.” He gestured to the sign behind him in the yard. His voice was deep and husky, but he spoke very smoothly. Ms. Mewweld introduced herself and, trembling, led him into her house. As the door shut behind them, a question formed in all of our minds. What was he doing here?

  A week passed, and, aside from quick glimpses at restaurants and in the streets, we didn’t see very much of Otto Teddman. However, that changed the day that construction equipment and workers appeared in the empty lot. We were in question until it was reported on the local news that the newcomer was behind it. I leaned forward in my seat as a balding man in a suit interviewed Mr. Teddman, who was wearing a formalistic suit along with his signature dark shades.

 “So, what exactly is going on here?” the reporter inquired, gesturing vaguely at the construction site.

 “This,” Mr. Teddman replied, flashing a brilliant, yet unsettling smile at the camera, “is the future site of my brand new manor.”

 “How nice!” The reporter beamed. “What brought you here to our little town?”

 “Well, originally, I was just taking a drive through the area, just to see what there is to see, you know? Then, I found this place. I was only planning on staying for a while, but, to be honest...I love it here. It’s so quiet, so...peaceful. Nothing like the metropolis I come from,” Mr. Teddman expressed, his voice dripping with emotion. I couldn’t help but snicker at his opinion. He had no idea.

  The house was completed surprisingly quickly, and, to be completely honest, it was quite a sight to see. It greatly outshone the small, suburban houses surrounding it, with its four stories, sliding glass doors, and balconies. Despite this, it was drastically out of place. One would walk past it and get a sense of something not being entirely right. However, the vast majority of locals chalked it up to just not being used to something so modern in our strictly old-fashioned atmosphere. Mr. Teddman rarely exited the house, and even in doing so, never left the premises. Frankly, I was rather glad. I had never been too fond of this newcomer. Nonetheless, I was not quite prepared for what was to come. I was driving down the street parallel to the house. Looking ahead of me, I noticed a small number of people standing on the sidewalk, staring in the direction of the new addition. Thinking nothing of it, I continued on. As I passed the house, I idly glanced up at it, expecting to maybe catch a glimpse of a certain someone’s grinning face peering down from the balcony. But, my eyes reached empty space where the house should have been. My car screeched to a stop and I got out. The house was gone. Completely gone. It was like it had never been there. I couldn’t believe my own eyes. It couldn’t have been gone. But it was. My sights were confirmed by the other staring faces around me. I waded through the grass and weeds on the--now empty--lot, searching for any sign of the house or its only resident. I recovered only two things. One was a single piece of broken glass. The other sent a chill down my spine. Parting the grass with my hands, I saw a familiar object lying amongst the weeds. It was a pair of sunglasses, the very same that Mr. Teddman had worn. The house had completely disappeared, and taken its owner with it.
  Since then, others have built on the same lot, only for us to one day find that the building and its residents have vanished, leaving barely a trace. We have collectively come to the conclusion that the empty lot has something to do with it. Exactly what the cause is, we don’t know. But we do know to give a fair warning to anyone thinking of building a new home here.

Author's Note

This is the fourth chapter/section of my book, Strange Happenings. For context, read the rest of the book. Thankfully, this chapter's longer than some of the others. Whew. Anyway, feel free to post feedback. I will continue to post chapters as I finish them.