We cannot judge a book by its cover, nor can we judge a person by the clothes he/she wears. Always be on guard, don't be fooled.
Chapter 1
What now? Once again, I am awakened by some loud noise. This is never going to end, isn't it? This place is absolutely disgusting! I can never get any sleep!
I swing my legs to the side of my bed and stand up, slipping my feet into my slippers. I am ready! Yup! You better believe it!
I get ahold of my baseball bat, ever so ready to declare war to whoever dares to walk into this room.
All these damn people, making noises! They have been walking around the whole house as if I am not here. Well, I've got news for them! I'm still around! And I'm still the owner of this house!
Several days ago, they even brought some workers to the house. They dug up my front lawn for no reason, then they dug up my backyard too. I have no idea what these people are up to.
I shouted down to them from the attic, “Hey, you there! Who gave you permission to come onto my property? Who gave you permission to dig up my yard?”
No one seemed to be able to hear me as I was – and still am – stuck up here in the attic! I kept shouting at them at the top of my lungs but my voice couldn't reach them.
Now, what was I coming up here for? Oh, yes, I remember it now!
The last time this room was used was when Robby was here. Robby was a young man looking for a place to stay. A fine young man he was! He told me he was attending the University just up the street, but he wanted to live away from the campus so he could gain some privacy after school to concentrate on his study. I agreed to charge him a reasonable rent in exchange for some work around the house.
But after four years, he was nearing the end of the course and was ready to move forward in his life. I was happy for him, even though I felt sad that I would be losing a friend. Robby was more than a friend to me. I had been treating him like he was my grandson. I was heartbroken when he told me he had to leave.
I remember the last evening that he was here and I wanted to give him a going-away party. Well, actually, the party was only for the two of us. I've made him a nice roast beef for dinner which he loved, and some roasted potatoes and vegetables as well. A lemon pie for dessert after dinner and ice cream too. He sat there at the dinner table and ate heartily as he told me his plans for the future. I was greatly impressed!
But I was saddened to see that he was going to leave me and my family. Robby fits into our tight-knit unit very well. I wanted him to become my grandson.
“Robby, you know I will miss you a lot,” I said to him during dinner. “You are like a grandson to me. I don't know what I will do when you are not around anymore. Everything will be different without you here.”
“But I will be coming back to visit you often, Mrs. Johnson,” Robby replied, trying to comfort me. “You will hear from me sooner than you think. I will not forget how you've made me feel so at home here. You have been so kind and wonderful you're almost like a grandmother to me! I appreciate your caring and generosity.”
“I'm happy you feel that way about me, Robby!” I said, with tears in my eyes.
It was a sad time in my life. I just didn't want to lose another loved one again. During the past four years, Robby had been my constant companion and we spent so much time together and had become so close that I would do anything for him, and he seemed to enjoy my company as well. I had become so fond of Robby I was even thinking of leaving him this house when I die. But it seemed to me all this had changed the minute when he announced he was going back home to see his parents. It was devastating to me! I suddenly remembered that Robby isn't mine! He was not even my real grandson! And how dare he choose to leave me after I've taken such good care of him for the past four years! No! I must convince him to stay.
“Robby, come with me after dinner! I have a surprise to show you.”
“Yes? What is that, Mrs. Johnson?”
“You can call me Grandma now, Robby, as to me, you are like my grandson. This house will be yours as I am going to will this house to you after I'm gone. I might as well give you a tour of this house before you leave so you will know where everything is.”
“Oh, Mrs. Johnson!” Robby exclaimed loudly, “I thank you for being so kind, but you don't really have to do this!”
“No, I insist, Robby! We have been so close to each other these past four years. And please, call me Grandma. I would love that more than ever!”
“Oh, Grandma!” Robby was in tears, he did not know what to say.
I was so happy when Robby finally called me Grandma. How sweet it sounded coming from his lips!
I remember Robby told me how he and his dad would often engage in shouting matches when he was living at home just for not tidying up his room or failing to help with the dishes after dinner. Once his dad even told him to get out of the house when he was 16. He ran out of the house and his mom and his aunt had to spend the whole evening searching for him in the neighbourhood. Luckily, they found him sitting on a bench in the park and brought him home. I was more than sympathetic when I learned how his parents had been treating him.
How could they? If only they knew how Robby would grow up to be such a fine young man they would not have treated him the way they did!
I offered Robby a glass of tropical juice which I had set aside for this special occasion, along with a glass for myself which I had brought in from the kitchen.
“It's okay, Robby! I will always love you like a grandson. I consider you part of our family now.”
“I appreciate it! I love you, Grandma! I don't know what to say.” Robby leaned over to kiss me on my cheek.
“Don't say anything! Just drink this up and I will show you the rest of this house.”
“Thanks, Grandma!”
After Robby took a few sips of the juice he told me he has had enough. I led him to see the rest of this big Victorian house. He was amazed at how many rooms there were, and the secret passages as we explored. Finally, I led him down into the basement where I lifted part of an opening of the floor which had been hidden underneath the rug. As we descended the flight of stairs I told him this was where my most precious place is in the whole house, and he must know where it is. He was excited but seemed cautious. Robby followed me and we came to a heavy wooden door. I used my key to unlock it and pushed it open.
Robby gasped with horror as he saw what was inside the room. His eyes became large with fright. Inside this room sat my precious family! Each one of them was my pride and joy! They were all dressed up, having a dinner party. My husband, my son, and my daughter! I was so proud of them, and I wanted them to know my Grandson, Robby, who will be joining them too. I went around to introduce each one of them to Robby. Even in their skeletal forms they all looked lovely to me because they were my family.
For some reason, Robby seemed frightened to make their acquaintance. All he did was to try to run out of that room. Luckily, I caught him just in time as he was about to faint. I had timed the poison well. Like clockwork, he began to drift into unconsciousness.
I sat Robby on the chair right next to my husband and across from my son and my daughter. I also combed his hair and rearranged his clothes so he would look proper enough to join the dinner party. Now, Robby looked so handsome! I stretched and titled up both corners of his lips a bit and now it looked like he was smiling.
My family was then completed. I had a husband, a son, a daughter, and a grandson!
If a young woman comes by next, I will have a granddaughter too. I smiled.
I closed the door behind me, came back up to the dining area. I wiped the smudges off the two glasses. I felt exhausted, yet my heart was pounding with excitement for celebration. I raised my glass towards the attic, made a toast to myself in celebration of my grandson Robby joining my family.
Oh, Robby's room! I suddenly remembered.
"Oh Robby, don't you worry! Grandma is going to tidy up your room for you!" I told Robby loudly.
I must hurry and go tidy up the room for Robby now since he cannot do it by himself. I ran up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.
I returned to the room in the attic and saw that Robby's bag was still sitting on the bed.
I must put this bag away so he will not try to leave me. I also must clean this room as well.
Chapter 2
Why is it taking me so long to tidy up this room? And these people who are walking around my house, digging up my yard, making so much noise. Who are they? What do they want? They are keeping me awake. I can't get any sleep at all! I must go down there to tell them to get out of my house!
I walk down the stairs with a baseball bat in my hand.
“Hey, you people! Who gave you permission to be on my property?”
No one listens to me. They just carry on as though I'm not even here.
“Get out! Get out of here, all of you! This is my house! You have no right to be here!”
They still won't listen and continue to walk around, making noise.
They are getting bolder! Now there is a man walking up straight to the bedroom in the attic! His hand is reaching for the doorknob!
“Hey, you! Don't go into that room!”
I am so mad! I walk right up to the man and bring my baseball bat down hard on top of his head.
“Arrrggghhh!!!” He cries out, looks around, terrified.
“Get out of here!” I yell at the top of my lungs.
“What's going on, Brad? Are you okay?” Another guy yells from the front room downstairs.
“I don't know,” says this guy. “Something thumped me on the head. It's spooky up here!”
Thumped your head, eh? I'll show you a thump! I raised my baseball bat and brought it down on his head again, harder this time. No one is going to touch my grandson's room! Get out of the way!
“Arrrgghhh!!! Help!!!” He cries out again, holding the back of his head.
“What the hell? This is spooky! I swear something is thumping me on the back of my head.” He turns around and runs stumbling down the stairs.
“Something is up there!” He warns the others, pointing his finger towards me.
“What's the matter? Are you blind and deaf? I told you, people, to go away. Do you think this is a hotel, where you can come and go as you please? I know you were here several days ago, and now you're here again! What do you people want?” I continue to shout at them loudly from my spot at the top of the stairs.
But no one answers. They all pretend that they don't see me.
This is just ridiculous! They can't come to my house as they please. This is NOT a hotel!
“I think we better let the police handle this. Whatever it is, it's not showing up on my camera. I can't see anything anywhere!” I hear a man tell his cohorts.
“Well don't look at me! I aint gonna go up that room. Uh-uh! Not me!” says another.
With that being said, they gather up their equipment and proceed to walk out the front door.
I am back in the attic now, looking down from the window, I can see some TV crews outside on the front lawn, they too, are trying to get inside of my house. They are being warned by the others, who tell them what had happened up the stairs – the thumping. The camera.
I suddenly feel overcome by fatigue. Unable to fight any longer, I lay back on my bed, and before I know it, I drift into a peaceful sleep.
Chapter 3
The door was kicked open and immediately the stench that was trapped inside stormed out like a tidal wave, its acrid odour too strong for the police crew to bear. They found Mrs. Johnson laying prone on her bed, fully-clothed as if she were about to attend a dinner party. She had a beautiful dress on and on her hands, she wore a pair of white gloves. Downstairs, the police had found stemware and leftover dinner, which by now had gone rotten. Two glasses on a wooden tray. One was empty, the other was 3 quarters full. The stench of the rotten meat lingered in the air. But it was no match for this. This stench was unmistakable. This stench was the stench of death.
The coroner on site had a strong feeling that Mrs. Johnson had been the victim of poison. A search of the residence revealed the presence of a small vial of arsenic, which lay empty on its side at a corner inside the kitchen cupboard. He concluded from the state of decay that Mrs. Johnson been dead for some time. She must have ingested the quick-acting poison in the kitchen, and felt sick, made her way up to the bedroom in the attic to lie down, where she fell dead.
This was the second time the police crew has been here. The first time was when they were looking for Robby Dawson, a university graduate who was supposed to go home to San Diego but had never arrived. A Missing Person report had been filed by his parents. The police had arrived at Mrs. Johnson's home several days ago to try talking with her but found no one home. The house was locked from the inside. Police had found it suspicious but without a search warrant, they could not break the door to get in.
A few days later, neighbours have complained there was a foul odour coming from inside the house, so police were called and the TV crews came as well.
According to neighbours, the house was very old and passed down from centuries and eventually into the hands of Mrs. Johnson, a widow who lived alone. They assumed she never got remarried after her husband mysteriously died in his sleep 10 years ago, and she didn't seem to have many friends. However, she always seemed kind and caring. She especially loved young adults. The neighbours assumed it was probably due to the tragic and untimely loss of her two teenage children - a daughter and a son – who, sadly, had perished also in their sleep, just three years after the death of Mr. Johnson, from what they were told was carbon monoxide poisoning. Widow Johnson seemed to have suffered an especially unhappy lot, neighbours told police, and certainly had the sympathies of the community.
The forensic technician tried in vain to secure a fingerprint on the empty vial of poison. Who could have killed Mrs. Johnson, and why? The woman kept to herself and did not seem to have many friends, nor had she any enemies. There was no evidence to suggest a struggle had occurred, so who would have wanted her dead? Could she have committed suicide?
Neighbours told police of a young man named Robby Dawson, a university student, who had been living with her for the past four years, but they had not seen Robby for quite some time already.
As Robby was still missing neighbours shook their heads in disbelief. Some even began to spread rumours, speculating that Robby may have something to do with Mrs. Johnson's death. Robby's parents were in total denial and disbelief. They were adamant that their son is still a missing person and he was not the kind of person who would commit such a horrible crime. That was not the Robby they raised.
Chapter 4
Many years had passed since investigators discovered the body of Mrs. Johnson. Many more still had passed since Robby first went missing. By now, he had long been presumed dead by those who knew him, yet his parents continued to hold on to the hope that one day he would return. They begged the police department to not close his file, not yet. And so the file sat, transitioning over time from an active missing person's case, to a cold case.
It wasn't until 15 years later when the former Johnson home was sold at a very ridiculously low price, that the Dawson's could finally find a sense of closure. The new owner of the ageing relic had levelled the residence in order to rebuild the entire house from scratch. It was then, in the final stages of the demolition, that horrified workers unearthing the property's foundation discovered the skeletons of four people.
An investigation immediately followed, and all of the missing pieces of the puzzle finally began to fit Robby's disappearance. Mr. Johnson, his son and daughter, Paxton and Lydia Johnson – all of who died “in their sleep.” At least that was what the community had always been told. And they believed it then – all of it! But now, fresh eyes and ears revealed the truth, which was far less tragic - at least where Mrs. Johnson was concerned - but rather far more sinister.
At last, the community would know what really happened to the Johnson family, and, most crucial of all, the Dawson's would finally have their answer as to what happened to their beloved son.
According to a public statement issued by the lead investigator, Mrs. Johnson, once reputed to be a very kind lady in spite of a series of tragedies in her personal life, was actually a serial killer who had murdered at least three people, her daughter Lydia and son Paxton, and a young man called Robby Dawson. Mrs. Johnson kept their corpses hidden away in the secret room in the basement.
An exhumation on the corpses of the family Johnson had been executed in order to conduct secondary autopsies on the bodies, and all had tested positive for arsenic. The body of Mr. Johnson, her late husband, had also been re-examined – his was the only one of the four bodies to have died of natural causes, of a fatal heart attack in his sleep.
A forensic psychologist had also been assigned to the case in order to piece together the mindset of the murderess Mrs. Johnson. His report, like the case itself, would become a matter of public record.
It was the good doctor's opinion that Robby was not so much a target, but the victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the end result of a guilty conscience in the twisted mindset of a cold-blooded killer.
What's more, the doctor continued in his official report, historical medical documents showed that Mrs. Johnson had undergone an elective hysterectomy after her second child and the only son reached his 17th birthday and had lived to regret her decision ever since. She had only begun to mourn the loss of ever having children of her own again when her husband, Mr. Johnson, suddenly died in his sleep, just one year after the procedure. It was she who woke up early one morning to discover his cold, stiff corpse laying beside her, still tucked in underneath the covers.
After her husband's tragic death, Mrs. Johnson vowed never to experience the pain of the permanent loss of a loved one again. She would have her family forever – one way or another. Even if it meant killing off their earthly bodies, and harbouring their souls and their bones in the basement. She would grow her family too.
That's where Robby came in.
The rest of the announcement by the officials outlined for the public exactly how Mrs. Johnson went about securing for herself her “forever family,” and crucially, offered for the first time, an insight into her own fatal demise. Forensic experts detailed how that the poison was poured by the murderess, in advance and out of sight, into a glass or tropical juice meant for Robby. Just like Paxton and Lydia, Robby drank the toxic brew, completely unaware that by doing so, he was sealing his fate. Mrs. Johnson was sly and prepared, setting down on her wooden tray a glass of untainted juice for herself, right next to Robby's glass. Just an extra measure should she need it, to prove the innocence of it all. She had even added a thin layer of salt around the rim of Robby's glass, just in case there was any hint of a foul taste. Her plan was foolproof.
Mrs. Johnson offered the glass of juice to Robby and urged him to drink it up quickly so she could give him the tour of the house. Robby took a few sips and told her he has had enough and put the glass back onto the tray. Considering the whole vial of arsenic had been poured into the drink, Mrs. Johnson thought the few sips that Robby had taken would be enough to do the trick. They began to tour around the house and eventually Robby was led into the basement where he met his fate. The poison in his body began to course through his blood, invading each of his organs, shutting them down one by one. He died within minutes upon arriving in the room behind the door.
When Mrs. Johnson came back to the dining table from the room below she began to clean the fingerprints off the glasses by wiping them off with her gloves. In doing so, she unknowingly left streaks of small particles of fabric from her gloves onto their surface. According to the report, it is believed she later made a toast to herself in celebration of the family gaining a grandson and drunk from the glass of which the salt stain was not visible, in her mind she had forgotten that she had just wiped clean both glasses with her gloves. She had accidentally drunk from Robby's glass.
After she drank up what was in the glass she made her way up to the room in the attic to tidy up Robby's room, then fell ill. Still unsuspecting of having drunk the poison herself, she lay down on the bed to catch a nap to try sleeping off the effect, and there, on the bed, was where the police had found her.
**********
Today, the area which once served as the foundation for the Johnson house has become a barren land. Its former owner had forfeited ownership on the property after the discovery of the bodies of the family Johnson and the young man Robby Dawson during the home's demolition, and no one had since come forward to claim the land.
To this day, residents of the area and curious adventurers swear the area is haunted. Every year, on the evening of October 31, the sound of a clinking glass can be heard above the carcass of the former Johnson home. Some say the sound is nothing more than the result of a prank by local trick-or-treaters', causing mischief while out on their Halloween rounds, but to others – those who knew the case, and those who knew Robby and Mrs. Johnson – it is the unsettled spirit of that wicked murderess, “toasting” her next victim from beyond the grave.
A great psychotic thriller that held my interest from beginning to end. This makes me think of the movie Psycho, except this time, it's the grandma who is psychotic.
This could have been a true story. I have heard of people keeping cadavers in houses, even with the stench, until they became skeletons, like first shocked people in Psycho. And, I once stayed for a weekend with an elderly woman who desperately wanted me to stay there while in school. So many old maids and widows rented out rooms to students. And Victorian mansions became student residences around many universities that I know of.
Except for some of the time references the story is very realistic and straightforward. People are capable of such atrocities. Old women can move bodies around and "clean up" very easily with a story to go along with it that is believable. In fact your story is so good, I hope that no one decides to live it out in real life. ;-)
I reasoned it was a ghost story right off the bat. However, it was intriguing and kept my interest throughout. I especially like the ending and the aftermath of the lot remaining empty to this day. It is a great Halloween story to share with friends.
Such an appropriate creative piece for the season of Halloween, Sandie. I am assuming this is a short story as it seems to have reached a conclusion (closure). Thank you for sharing. Love, peace, and best wishes,
Regis. 🌺🍁🍂🎃
Reviewed by Danny Underwood
10/26/2020
WOW!!!!! Sandie, you have outdone yourself with this story! This has got to be one of your best! I am truly amazed at how you can spin out your story each time you write. You are a mistress of storytelling! Best crime story I have ever read!
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