THE HAUNTED HOUSE
By JP BROWN
I was out in the countryside in an old farm house looking after my employer’s property. I was just a humble man servant, serving the old man with my girlfriend, the housemaid of the house. We were miles from anywhere and the old farmhouse stood alone and deserted in the dark landscape as dusk fell. It grew steadily darker and after we had had our supper in the kitchen, we retired to the servant’s quarters at the back of the house for a good night’s rest. I could still hear all movement in the house from my room, and would be aware of any breaking attempts or intrusion. Me and the girl laughed a bit and fooled around in bed, but the night grew deathly still as midnight approached. An eerie silence fell over the place, and I grew deathly afraid of the witching hour, as the old grandfather clock in the house struck twelve. It was then in the dark midnight that I heard those footsteps from hell from deep inside the great halls of that old house. It sounded like medieval boots falling on the wooden flooring, the loud clacking of those ancient heels, drove a chill up my spine. By his stomping about in the kitchen and halls, the man seemed possessed, and it drove my mind and thoughts to fear of the unknown. I had no weapon to defend myself against such a madman, and I feared for my life, and that of the girl. She clung unto me under the sheets of the bed, and I was too afraid to make a move. Still the mad demon of man stomped back and forth outside in the hall, and the clack-clack-clacking of his ancient heels rang loud and clear in the black moonless night. Now those boots could be heard outside our door, as the ancient spirit of darkness cursed and mumbled to himself. Then the clacking heels stomped away again into the darkness. It was a night of fear and madness, as the dark evil hours stretched out like eternity until the break of day. Just before dawn, his last clacking footsteps could be heard, fading away with the slamming of the front door and his apparent departure before light. I was never more pleased to see a sunrise, for I was sure that the damned one in the night, had come to take my soul with him to hell. I told the master of the house on his return, that I wanted no more of this place, and resigned forthwith. Me and the girl travelled far from that old house and its dark spectre, and it would never again see likes of me near its haunted hallways. One brush with a ghost had been enough for me.