Ghostwood Manor

In every group of peers, there's always one of my type: you know, the one who could never turn down a dare?  Granted, we've seen more adventure than all the rest of the group put together, but statistically speaking, we've also had more close calls, more injuries, and have shorter life-spans than the others as well.

It is just such an adventure that I want to relate to you now.  My visit to Ghostwood Manor.  If ever you relate this tale to anyone, please, please ... please; whisper the name.  Never say it out loud.  I've only printed it here to give you warning, or I'd have never even written it.

I stood in the oppressive heat, staring at the rusty gate set in the woods.  It was windy somewhere, because heavy clouds played tag with a full moon, giving short moonlit flashes amid long stretches of ominous darkness ... I mean the kind of darkness you can taste.  Jimmy Higgins had dared me to go up to the old house, and use the knocker on the main door.  That's all -- just knock on the heavy door and run.  Piece of cake!

The biggest problem was the woods: a quarter mile of nearly overgrown driveway that ran through heavy woods.  No one had lived here in years.  As young as we were, no one had lived here in our lifetime.  Rumors were whispered throughout the town about this place.  No one -- and I mean no one -- spoke the name aloud.  Ghostwood.  Even now, as I write the name, I glance behind me.  But I digress....

I waited for a snatch of moonlight to try the gate.  If something was going to come at me, I wanted to see it in time to run.  Beside me stood my trusty dog, Killer.  That wasn't really his name, but that was what I'd renamed him just for tonight.  I wanted some power on my side, as I faced down the supernatural.

The light came: I strode up to the gate, and it refused to move.  I put all my weight against it, and it finally moved -- just two feet, but enough to squeeze through.  Its hinges gave the low moan of tortured steel, then the bottom of the gate jammed against the dirt and debris that had piled into the drive.  The debris moved slightly, and a hand reached up out of the ground.

My heart leapt into my throat, strangling a scream.  My hackles raised, as did Killer's.  Then, upon closer examination I realized that it was just a dead branch.  I was able to swallow my heart once again, but it took awhile for its pounding rhythm to subside enough for me to hear small sounds.  That's okay.  I was in no hurry, anyway.  Right then, I desperately searched my mind for a way to call off this adventure in a manner that would save face.  I could think of none.

I squeezed through he gate and started up the drive.  Killer stopped cold, his hackles raised, and refused to enter.  I leaned toward him and whispered hoarsely: "C'mon, Killer.  I don't like it either, but we've gotta do this."

Killer whimpered and dug in his feet.

"C'mon, boy!  C'mon!"  My reputation was at stake here.

Killer refused to budge.

"Okay then,"  I tied his leash to the gate.  "I'll be right back.  You bark if you see anything, okay?"

He whimpered and stuck his tail between his legs.

"Coward!"  I whispered in disgust.  I started up the drive alone, aware of every shadow, every sound.  The oppressive heat clung to me like a shroud.  God, I wished I hadn't thought of that.

The moon disappeared, eaten by a particularly ominous looking cloud.  In those deep woods, I couldn't see a thing.  I had to stop and wait.  What's that?  Didn't I have a flashlight?  You ask.  Of course I had a flashlight.  But it was for emergencies.  Do you know what a flashlight can do to your night vision?  I'm not a novice, you know.

Off to my left, a twig snapped.  Once again I could taste the darkness.  Or was it the bile of fear I tasted?  In any case, it tasted BAD!  I strained, my whole being a listening ear.  The silence was oppressive.

Crack!

That twig sounded as if it were as thick as a man's wrist, and it was much closer.  I huddled in the darkness, my hand on the flashlight.  The lens was pointed toward the noise, but I couldn't bring myself to throw the switch.  I waited, my heart playing staccato drums in my ears.  Time stretched into eternity.  There was no more sound.

Someone came to me.  I could feel them.  They stood for a long time, looking at me.  Can a ghost see in the dark?  I didn't know.  All I knew was that I sure as hell couldn't.  They stood: silent, alert, waiting.  I held my breath.

In slow motion, the clouds disgorged the moon, casting pale light through the trees.  I looked up: there was nothing there.  I looked around: nothing -- nobody.  I looked toward the house.  It was only thirty yards away, and the door was just closing -- silently.  My heart lurched once more, and my breath came in quick gasps.  My mind screamed mental commands: "Run!  No!  Fool!  Run!  I'm so close.  Who gives a sh*t?  Run! No!"

Whether it was wise or not, I'll never know, but my adventurous side won out, and I continued toward the door, gasping for air, fighting nausea, and reached out with sweat-slicked fingers.  The door knocker was cold, so very cold.  I pulled it up and let it drop.

Boom!  The sound echoed through the house.  The door swung inward, its hinges shrieking.  I did likewise!

I bolted down the drive, every howling banshee my mind could muster, nipping at my heels.  The oppressive heat flushed past my face in the rush, and my sweat dribbled into my eyes.  Somewhere ahead, I heard a terrified yelp, then nothing.  My senses reeled, a primal scream lurking on the end of my tongue.  Fear was my companion, death my pursuer.

I arrived at the gate, gasping for air, and whimpering, "Killer?"  There was no sound.  I fell to my knees, and felt the leash.  It was cut clean, as if with a razor.  Terror prickled up my back.  I heaved, gushing the contents of my stomach across the mounded debris, then scrambled through the gate.

The brambles tore at my skin and clothing as I burst through them onto the road, tears streaking my face, and pain blasting my lungs.

Whack!  Something hit me in the back, and fluid gushed over my right ear.  "Killer!"  My relief was tantamount as I fended off the happy tongue of my sidekick coward.  "Killer!"  I hugged him close.

Somewhere off in the woods, I felt the laughter.  No, I didn't hear a thing, but I felt it.  Killer and I ran for home just as fast as we could go.

So, you doubt me?  I can tell by the look in your eyes.  Go ahead, banter about in your foolishness, but stay away from the trees.

Oh, and when you say the name of Ghostwood?  Do it in a whisper.  I warn you!

Dallas D'Angelo-Gary 04