The partially full moon's light fell upon the early 20th century house at around the time of it's inhabitants departure to bed. The fridged wind crept over the feild of dead five foot grass in which this particular house sat. It was a nice, cozy little homestead, it's renivations over the many years had transformed it into a fairly modern looking place. It was on this cold night that a family of two newlyweds, who had just moved into this new home of theirs, would lose power as an approaching storm entered over the surrounding forest. They were the only house for miles, thus the only ones to recieve this burden,
Leaving them with candlelight until the electricity returned, they decided to call it a night. Maynard and Carla Rogers stumbled up the dark, creaky stairs and to the master bedroom. The empty walls symboled little progress in the past week of unpacking, but do to both working schedules, unpacking would not be finished for quite awhile, but still, the happy couple went to sleep without a care in the world.
Maynard awoke that night when his phone began to ring. He fumbled around in the dark for a second before finding it under the pillow.
"Hello?" he said half asleep.
"Hello Maynard." A sturn, firmiliar voice came over the phone, waking him up instantly.
"M-Mom? Thats- Thats imp-"
"You've been an awfully bad child." The voice began to get louder, "It's time for you to be punished!"
Maynard froze in complete fear as loud footsteps suddenly began to walk up the wooden steps.
"I'm coming for you child." said the almost evil voice said as the bedroom door knob began to slowly turn,"It's time child."
"Mom...y-you're dead!" Maynard said frozen, letting the phone hit the wood floor. Suddenly, everything stopped. No footsteps. No turning door knobs. Nothing. He stared at the door causiously for a few moments. Still Nothing.
Maynard didn't sleep the rest of the night. Instead, he lay awake, going through all the terrible memories of his childhood before his God fearing mother died. How his mother beat him with a sack full of potatoes anytime he "sinned". How she starved him for days if he ever used the lord's name in vain. Then, when Maynard was 14, him mother died of cancer, and he went to live with his Dad in Arkansas. All these memories seemed so much more clear after what had just happened. He couldn't get it out of his head. He didn't know if he should tell Carla. No one in the right mind would believe something like that.
The next morning, the power had returned. Maynard was completely quiet at breakfast time. He shot down every one of Carla's efforts for small talk. Minutes passed before she finally looked up at him," What's wrong?", she asked putting down her work. He paused for a second, "Nothing! Nothing is wrong!" he said as she continued to stare at him. "Ok, well, don't stress yourself out. Have a nice day, sweetie." She said getting up and heading off to work.
Maynard sat for a minute. "I had to have been dreaming, but it was so real. This whole situation is really creepy. Ther- wait, it's seven. I need to get ready."
Maynard quickly got dressed and went outside. The air was uncomfortably chilly today, and the only birds flying around were voltures off a bit a ways from the house. The dusgusting black birds flew in a perfect cirle. This somehow mezmerized him.
"Well hi neighbor!" said a cheery voice. Maynard turned and was greeted by a old aged man in a dress suit . He stood about 5-6, bald head, and a glowing smile.
"Hi, how are you today?,"Maynard said forcing a smile,"You're definatly far off from where you wanna be aren't you?"
"Nope." the man replied with a casual yet sad smile. The old man took out a golden pocket watch to check the time, then nodded his head. "That's a fine lookin' house you got there son."said the old man still smiling. "Thank you very much sir... may I ask your name?" No response. Maynard looked back over at the voltures. "I wonder what died over there." Maynard said turning around, but he was gone. The old man which Maynard was just talking to vanished in thin air. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Thoughts raced through his head. "That's impossible. No way at all could that have just happened. He looked back over at the voltures."
The flock of circling vermin seemed beckoned him. Maynard suddenly burst into a full sprint. Through the dead grass, he ran without really knowing why. He stopped below the voltures, absolutly shocked at what he saw. A half eaten human corpse in a black dress suit. It was the old man.
The cops arrived soon and within minutes, everything around the house looked like a murder scene. Maynard sat in shock on the front porch when a cop walked up,"From what we've figured out, his name was Earl Ramsey, 83, marrried to Bella Ramsey. The poor guy was takin' a casual walk through the grass and got attacked by some kinda animal, we think a wolf." the cop said writing something down in his notebook,"Anything you need to tell us." Maynard looked up with embaressment and managed to get out,"I um.. I talked to him before I found him."
The cop looked up,"You mean he was alive when you found him there? He's been dead for about 8 hou-"
"No, I talked to him right here, then he disappeared, and I found his body over there."
"....right...,"said the cop staring at Maynard ,"well, we got all we need. Try and enjoy the rest of your day."
Maynard gave a slight nod.Carla's car pulled up in the driveway. She rushed out of the car and over to Maynard."Are you ok? What happened? she said in a hurry. "I'm fine, I'll tell you when they leave." he said. After he told her, she began to worry about her husband. "Maybe it's the whole situation, your stressed out." He sighed and shook his head,"You're right. Let's-Let's just go on with our day.", he said knowing something was wrong.
The funeral was the next week, and Maynard felt he needed to go. He waved goodbye as Carla went off to work, and he went and got dressed, and he made the drive to the funeral home. Maynard felt kind of awkward at the funeral. There were about a hundred people there, all of which Maynard didn't know. He sat in a chair in the corner as relativesweeped over Earl. The casket was closed, but Maynard knew what he looked like. He looked up to be greeted by an old woman in a black dress. She was a small old woman, about the same age as Earl was.
"Maynard Rogers?," the kindly old woman asked,"I'm Bella Ramsey, Earl's wife."
"I'm so sorry for your loss." Maynard said with sorrow.
"Thank you for coming," she said, "I needed to tell you something about your house."
Maynard looked up,"What would that be?"
"The land your house was built on is a door. A door between life and death. I know you saw Earl, that's why you're here. You felt obligated. Earl was a good spirit, which is why you saw him outside of the house."
"I really don't follow."
"In this balance, the good ghosts live outside of the house."
"which means-" Maynard started.
"The evil spirits live inside the house. Every evil in the world will eventually die. You be careful in that house Mr. Rogers." she said in a cold, frightening voice.
"Ho-How do you know all this?"
"Earl built the house many decades ago, without knowing what he'd done. We never knew how it balanced out that way, but when we figured it out, we left immediatly. Earl loved that land though. He was so attached, he walked out there every morning."
"Excuse me ma'am, I have to go." Maynard said hesitating before running out of the building.
Racing home, he called Carla,"Carla! You need to get out of the house! Get in the yard!"
"Oh hey Maynard. Listen, I've got most of the stuff unpacked."
"No! Get out now!"
"Maynard, what are yo-", the phone cut off.
"Carla!". He tossed the phone to the side. When he reached the drive way, he got out of the car and sprinted inside.
"Carla!" he shouted going up the stairs.
"Up here.", she said from the master bedroom,"Sorry, my phone cut off, the battery died." She folded up another empty box.
"you know," she continued,"I'm starting to think I might have been dreaming."
"We have to get-". Maynard was interupted when the locked closet door began shake. Both of them looked over. It began to shake more violently.
They started to slowly walk backwards. Then, it stopped. Maynard edged a bit closer. Crash! An axe head came right through the middle of the mysterious door, splitting the wood as if someone was peeling a stick apart from to top down. The axe dragged back into the closet and a white figure in the shape of a man poked it's head out the closet. The figure then broke through the remains of the door, reveiling that the creature had no detail to it's body at all. It's face, torso and everything were purely white matter. Maynard pushed Carla togo for the door.
They ran down the stairs, "Oh my god," said Carla,"The windows, doors, everything is completely bordered up. How did this happen in less than a minute?". Just then, the figure came storming down the the steps, hitting the walls and knocking off all the pictures. Maynard took Carla's hand and led her into the kitchen. "Quick before he sees you," he said pushing her into the pantry. He turned and ran around the corner of the kitchen, and he was greeted by the figure, who proceeded to swing the axe at the gut region. Maynard quickly dodged what would have been a fatal blow and continued to run upstairs. He looked back at the figure, who was following him up the steps.
He ran to the huest room where he stored his shotgun. "Come on where is it? There? Yes! Ok- wait. Where's the ammo? Aw!" Maynard glanced back at the doorway. No was there. "I gotta hurry. There it is." He stood up loading the gun and just happened to glance out the window. A person caught his eye, a woman. "Who is that?", he asked himself,"That's- that's Carla!" There she stood with peace, a smile on her face. "How'd she ge- Oh no!", Maynard screamed as he turned and bolted out of the room.
He reached the kitchen, but what he saw made him fall backwards. "No, no, no." he repeated to himself. There in front of the open pantry stood the figure, covered from head to toe in blood. Carla's body lay in the pantry, mangled. Maynard's hands were shaking violently, but he managed to raise the gun. The figure ran in his direction, but was slowed down as Maynard fired a bullet into his chest. Maynard stood up and ran into the living room. He had more company. More of them. Dozens of ghosts stood there, all with the most horrifying look to them. From headless to fleshless, every evil spirit in the room had a devilish look to them, and all of which edged closer to Maynard, who didn't realize he'd backed up into the entrance of the kitchen.
Crack! Maynard lost all feeling in his body and fell to his knees. He turned his head as much as he could, looking eye to eye with the crazed figure, who had lodged the axe directly into his spine. Maynard fell forward, and not a second after, the white figure was dragging his soon to be dead body back into the kitchen by the handle of the axe. Within seconds, his face went pale, and he was dead.
Down at the Police Station, Lt. Andy Brackston was reclined in his rolling chair, feet propped up on his desk. Brackston was a well liked man in the small town. He was the cop who was always affiliated with the town fair, you know, pie eating contest, sack racing. Not much really happened in this small town, well, nothing he liked speak about. "Hey, Jacobs, let's go to Dunkin' Donuts and g-", He was interupted by the phone ringing. "Hold on," he said picking up the phone,"Y-ello?"
"Brackston,get down to the old Ramsey place, now."
"It's a slaughter down here. The married couple who just moved to town. Some maniac with an axe, there's blood everywhere It's awful. But..."
"Well...the weird thing is, there's no one else here."
"Well, the windows and doors were boarded up pretty good, we had trouble getting in. The only windows not boarded up can't open, and none of them were broken."
"Alright, I'll be there soon." he said hanging the phone up. He shook his head for a second before looking over at Jacobs and saying,"Let's go, we're goin' down to the old Ramsey place."
"Aw, not again.", said Jacobs in an annoyed tone.
"Yeah I know. Weird thing is, they've torn the building down numerous times, but the next day it's back up, good as new. Anyways, you know the drill," said Brackston placing his hat atop his bald head, "tell no one about whatever happens over there."