Dolls house on the stairs

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Dolls house on the stairs, guarding the rooms above. Just a wooden box basically, denying access.

Now someone approaches, but a draft seems to blow from the painted doors, like someone breathing out.

A step up, high heels clunk on the wood. Impatient to pass, the figure still hesitates. Then, lights illuminate the windows in the dolls house!

She steps  back, trips, and falls on her bottom. She stands and looks up at the house, now flames are licking up the walls across the steps and up the stairwell.. A moaning starts..

Back in the office, Val watches the CCTV. That will stop you seeing my husband! She chuckles gleefully.

Who switched my Bluetooth on?

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Oi! Who switched my Bluetooth on? she shouted to her two teenage sons.

Not me! No I didn’t! Came the swift replies.

I’ve told you not to mess with my phone! Don’t do it again. Shouting up the stairs seemed to be the way to communicate these days…

She popped her mobile phone in her handbag. Walked to the bus stop. Waited for the number 9 up to town.

As she stood at the stop her phone buzzed. Bluetooth again? A photo had been shared to her photo album. A picture of the cemetery. One word, “come” was superimposed on the image.

Those boys, she thought, always playing tricks. She found the sender and sent a ‘no’ gif with a tiny black kitten jumping up at a goldfish.

She got on the bus, wondering what they would do next. Buzz…

Same picture of the cemetery, ‘come now!’ the exclamation mark worried her. She sent back ‘why should I???’ this was getting silly.

It was when she was getting off the bus that she got the third Bluetooth picture. Now it was a hole dug in the grass next to a grave stone. The name carved on it was hers!

No way, she thought. The boys would not have done something so elaborate. She could have gone to the police, but her imagination had been piqued.

The cemetery was only down the road, it was broad daylight, there were always people there walking their dogs. Why not?

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck start to rise, but she put her nerves aside and walked into the cemetery lodge where they kept a list of all the people buried there. ‘Victoria Crewe’ was there. Headstone 121, west Chapel section of the graveyard.

She walked slowly among the headstones. Each one had the details of death, family and sometimes a poignant motto. As she reached the end of the row her phone buzzed again. This time the Bluetooth message was white letters on a dark blue background. ‘look in the hole’ it said.

Who was sending the messages? She thought they must be close or the message could not have been shared. But for once the cemetery appeared empty.

Then she saw the hole. Not in the grave area, but next to it. Next to the grave marked with her name. She looked down. There was a metal tin in it. Buzz… ‘yours’ was the writing on the screen.

She held her breath, wiped away the soil from the small tin and opened it.

Inside lay a gold rolex man’s watch. A warranty for it in her father’s name, and a letter from ‘aunty Vicky’ wishing him a very happy 21st birthday and explaining to him that she was sending him a gift of this very special watch. The letter was dated on the same day as Victoria had died!

The lake.

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The lake looked inviting, the sun was breaking through the clouds and the water was still. Gentle ripples from the slight breeze disturbed the surface.

No one else was around. She had been sitting on the sun terrace and had fallen asleep in the hot sun. Now she was awake and hot. A paddle in the water would be nice and cooling. There was a sloping beach at one end of the lake. She put on her sandles and walked round the edge of the lake.

Walking over pebbles the water rose round her ankles then her knees. Blissful cool water lapped around her.

She stood quietly for a while then started to splash the water up to cool her face, arms and body. It felt so good that she slipped down into the water. Kicking off her sandles she started a slow breast stroke out towards a wooded island a few meters off in the distance. She knew there was a bench in the shade there. Her thin skirt billowed out behind her and she felt relaxed and like she was floating in space.

Then it happened. The skirt snagged on something, weeds? She was a strong swimmer and didn’t think it was a problem. She swung round to pull at her skirt. A hand grasped her wrist and she felt herself being pulled down…..

Light through clouds

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In the forest it was gloomy, rain had been falling all day, and a grey swirling cap of clouds seemed to sit just above the treetops.

As she walked into the clearing she looked up. No sign of sunshine. It was almost as dark there as under the trees. At least there was a pool which looked clear. She had got a camping stove and would soon be able to make a hot drink. This then would be her camping spot for the night. Only another 20 miles to her destination.

Then as she prepared her evening meal, the clouds started to part and light streamed into the glade.

The light seemed to trigger movement. All around her the ground seemed to lift up into humps which turned into writhing figures in human form. They had been held down by green tendrils of leaves. The green men. An ancient myth. She screamed as she realised they were surrounding her, mirroring the surrounding trees. Tendrils reaching out and pinning her to the ground. She had realised too late that they were carnivorous plants.

Remember, the witch has bright green eyes…

sketch-1558015815990it was late when she arrived. The rain had been pelting down all day, flooding the lanes. The car had struggled through the murk. But the hotel looked warm and inviting. She signed in and opted for a quick visit to the bar.

Soon she was chatting with the hotel owner. He told her how quirky it was. Wait till you see it in daylight. He said. It’s got a lovely feeling to it, ancient yet beautiful. She smiled as she chatted. Just what she needed, a quiet scenic stay in a plush hotel. Pampering and relaxing.

It’s  a few hundred years old, he told her. Some parts are ancient. You can see the timbers. Old oak beams, even some wattle and daub in the older parts.

That’s great, really interesting. I bet you could tell some tales? She only asked with the expectation of some story for the tourist trade.

The hotel owner smiled. Well there is one story about the witch, he said. Oh, not a ghost? She replied.

No, it happened in the room next to where you are tonight. An old woman, they decided she was a witch simply because she had bright green eyes. The story goes they didn’t want to hang her so they walled her up in a cupboard in the wall. We’ve never seen anything, he reassured her. Just one of those spooky stories you get in old buildings.

Still, she felt a little nervous on the way up to her bedroom. The lighting was very low, making every shadow ghostly puddles of blackness. I can’t wait for morning, she thought.

Up two flights of stairs, the porter showed her into the bedroom. It was en suite with a four poster bed! Satin drapes to keep the damp breeze out. A tray full of goodies and proper coffee. The bathroom had a roll top bath, gold taps, luxurious. Soon she was feeling relaxed and calm. She drank a gin and tonic and read her book for a little while.

She decided to turn in about midnight, with the drapes round the bed pulled tight it was too dark so she put the side table light on and settled down.

She was very tired and soon fell asleep. She was only a light sleeper and something woke her.

A hand was pulling the drapes aside, a face appeared at the bottom of the bed. Two bright green, glowing eyes stared at her.

Spooky tap

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I went to use the ladies in the hotel where we just held a craft fair. I walked in and the lights were off, no one else was in there. The lights came on automatically. As I used the facilities I heard the tap go on (but no one was in there with me). And when I opened the door the tap (which was one of the push down types) was still running, it was just spooky. I know the building is old. But why would a tap switch on?

I pulled up the top of the tap and it shut off. I didn’t feel scared, just surprised.

Howling

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The building was old. You could tell that by the wooden shutters over the windows, more like prison bars than anything else. Not a scary place to walk past in the daylight, but on the odd occasion that she walked past it at night she made sure she walked fast, just in case.

In case of what? No one knew much about the building, but it was attached to an old windmill and there was a tall wall leading off into the distance where the building ended. Just one gate, made of old and rotting wood, that was half way down the length of the wall..

When she had walked past before she could swear she had heard snuffling  like a dog, and something scratching at the gate. As she walked past her clicking heels would speed up to get her past. A rush of adrenalin enough to make her heart pound.

Tonight the alleyway was lit by a dim street lamp at either end. Slipping from behind the clouds a full bright moon gave extra illumination. Tonight the cobbles were wet, with a gleam in the light of small puddles reflecting back the moon.

No choice really, walk along the alley and cross the road to the car park, or walk half a mile round the one way system. At that moment a dreary drizzle started. It was the alleyway tonight. The quicker to get home and get warm. Her feet clicked and splashed as she walked along, she almost twisted her ankle on the cobbles. She passed the old shuttered window and heard, what exactly? Snuffling? Panting? She hurried on. Almost at the gate, just over halfway along the alley, point of no return. A sudden rushing sound, like a dog running, then a howl. She froze, there was the sound of something large hitting the old gate. She pulled off her shoes and ran….. The howl followed her…..