The Empty House

Darkness began to loom over the abandoned house sitting on a corner lot, home of a triple homicide three decades before. Arthur walked past twice every day. His office was only three blocks from his home, and walking gave him that short exercise he needed working at a desk all day.

Today was different. It was raining, and a chill permeated his clothing. He could see his breath as he gaped at the top-story window under the brim of his umbrella. A figure was standing there looking at him. Arthur wasn’t sure if it was a man or woman, but they had long hair and a chilling appearance, wearing a gown that looked like they belonged in a hospital. It made little sense as no hospitals were nearby in his small town.

Without further consideration, he turned rapidly to finish his walk home for the evening. The night was closing earlier every day as fall turned to winter, and Arthur wanted to get away from the house before darkness fully set in.

That house has been empty since the Wilkins murders over thirty years ago, he thought.

It was an odd tale. A woman, a witch, if you believed some of the rumors, moved into the home as a nanny to help Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins take care of their special needs child. Mr. Wilkins was a local attorney, and Mrs. Wilkins was a manager at the local grocery store. Not four weeks after the nanny moved in, they were all found splayed throughout the house. Each one was split down the middle and nailed to a wall. The police guessed they had been dead several days before anyone found them, and the nanny was nowhere to be seen. Many relics and peculiar symbols were discovered in the attic bedroom that she stayed in.

How would she still be in that house? He asked himself. It probably isn’t her. Perhaps it’s just a squatter, he considered on his way home.

Arthur pulled out his keys and unlocked the front door of his small two-bedroom house. The comforting smell of home entered his nostrils, and he immediately began to relax. After a short trip to his kitchen and a brief wait from his microwave, Arthur sat in front of his television, his microwaved dinner in front of him and a beer sitting on the corner of his TV tray.

Staring at the blank screen, he found himself saddened thinking about his ex-wife. He had been divorced several years ago and had no children to show for his miserable time with her. Immediately he extinguished the thought.

It wasn’t her fault. We weren’t meant to be together. It would never have worked in the end anyway, he thought.

Suddenly a rapping from his front door woke him from his contemplations. Suspiciously he arose from his recliner and walked to the front door. It was dark, raining, and cold. Who would be knocking at this time of the evening? He opened the door. Standing there was a young woman drenched with no umbrella.

“Hello, sir. I was wondering if I could use your phone?” The small woman asked.

“It’s a bit dark and cold to be out. Don’t you have a phone of your own?” he replied, still somewhat nervous from his previous experience with the abandoned house.

“I did, but it broke. Sir, it will only take a moment. Please?” she pleaded.

Arthur nodded and stepped aside, allowing her to come in from the rain. It was only a young girl, after all. It had also been a long time since he had company, and he did find himself lonely.

“Here you are,” he said as he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone.

“Thank you,” she replied, taking it.

Arthur walked into his living room, leaving her in the foyer to use the phone. A few minutes passed before he realized he didn’t hear any voice coming from the entrance.

She’s had to have called someone by now, he thought. I’ll give her a few more minutes before checking on her.

Arthur grabbed his remote and looked at his television, but a blank screen wasn’t what he saw. He panicked as the entire screen was covered with what appeared to be spiders. Black widows, if he wasn’t mistaken. Arthur walked away from the living room to retrieve a bug spray and returned to the foyer. As he entered the hall, he expected to see the girl, but she was no longer there. On the floor was his phone, with a broken screen.

Nervousness set in. He didn’t know what was going on. First the house, then the girl and spiders, now the mysterious girl was missing. Something wasn’t right. So, Arthur, not wanting to be without protection, ran into his kitchen, grabbing a knife from the knife block on his counter. Standing there with a knife in his hand, he looked around, starting to search the sprays under his sink. Arthur hated spiders. Big black and creepy, they sent a chill up his spine. He would handle them first and then look for the girl.

In his hand that held the knife, he felt a wiggle. The knife didn’t feel like a knife any longer, and looking down, he found himself holding a giant venomous snake. The snake’s head turned toward him, exposing its fangs. But, before the snake could strike, Arthur threw it across the room.

He had to get out. Everything was going crazy—a vanishing girl, spiders, and now a snake, not to mention the figure in the house from earlier. Running to the front door, he swung it open, starting to run out. He ran face-first into a brick wall.

“What the hell is this? What’s going on!” he yelled as he ran to the back of his house.

The back door was a short distance away and had a window, so he knew it led outside. He could see his backyard, and as he grabbed the handle and swung the door, another brick wall met him. Arthur’s eyes were about to burst when he slowly turned back to the interior of his home.

This can’t be real, he thought.

On his right, the snake from earlier was making his way toward him, hissing. He slowly walked toward the stairs to the second level when he noticed spiders coming from his living room. He looked at his phone again, broken.

Arthur had no options left and ran up the stairs. His safest place would be his bedroom. He could shove a towel under the door and lock it. He would be safe there. Running into his bedroom, he executed his plan perfectly. After accomplishing that goal, he heard a growl from his closet. Deep and throaty, it continued, getting increasingly aggressive until something started slamming against the other side of the closet door. Something was in there trying to get out.

The bathroom! he thought.

Rushing to the door, he swung it open. Standing in the doorway was the largest blackest creature he had ever seen. It had wiry fur and razor-sharp teeth, with claws protruding from its paws several inches long. Arthur was frozen stiff, with nowhere else to go. He stood there as the beast roared in his face, and with a mighty swipe, he cut his belly open.

Arthur didn’t register anything for a moment until the feeling of emptiness began to take over. Not an emotional void, he thought, actual emptiness. Looking down, he discovered why. Arthur sank to the floor, scooping up his intestines and guts, trying to place them back into himself. Closing his eyes, he knew he couldn’t recover from the injury.

The cold hit his face as he opened his eyes; his umbrella was on the ground next to him. The sidewalk was under his feet and the Wilkins’ old house in front of him. He gasped, looking at his stomach. No blood was there, and none of his innards littered the ground. Next to his umbrella lay his phone, broken, the only consistency from his previous memory.

Suddenly as if coming from thin air, a ragged old woman stood before him.

Perhaps I didn’t see her approach, he thought to himself.

“Having some troubles, young man?” she asked in a high-pitched voice.

Arthur stood there wiping the rain from his face. He looked in both directions before focusing back on the woman.

“What happened?” he asked.

“You were dreaming,” she replied, “Now, follow me, and let’s get you taken care of.”

The old woman picked up his umbrella and carried it into the abandoned house with her. Arthur wanted to say no. He tried to turn and run, but he couldn’t talk anymore, and his feet shuffled forward without his consent, left then right, following her into the house. He didn’t want to go, but he couldn’t stop himself.

What is this? He asked himself as he fought the old woman’s iron-clad will.

“Come now. No need to be afraid it will all be over soon.” She said while holding the door open for him.

The door never closed after Arthur went in. And a few days later, after his coworkers reported him missing. The police searched the areas he was last seen. Finally, on the third day, a broken phone was found in front of an old, abandoned house on the side of a sidewalk. An open doorway was the only indication he could have gone inside. As the house was searched, upstairs in a bathroom off the main bedroom was Arthur. Splay for display and nailed to a wall.

Thirty years later, darkness began to loom over the abandoned house sitting on a corner lot. The house was the home of a triple homicide six decades before and a single murder three decades ago. Greg, an accountant, jogged past every day in the evening. It was cold, and a chill permeated his clothing. He could see his breath as he ran. Suddenly a movement in the house caught his eye. And as he peered up to the window of the old, abandoned house, a figure stood there looking at him…