Witchcraft

Vikram rung the bell, and waited. He smiled when his colleague opened the door, and entered. It was time for a good game of Mahjong. Although he had never played with this group before, he had heard that people simply came to play Mahjong at Ong's house to lose. Ong was unbeatable. Ong smiled at him as he came in and shook hands with him. Vikram was taken aback by the magnitude of the house and how rich everything seemed to look; the lush velvet curtains, the elaborate carpets and the miniature chandelier which hung in the middle of the living room as if Ong thought that his house was a small castle.

Vikram was led to the living room where two other people waited for him. The tiles were already lying face down on the table randomly, waiting for gambling fingers to pick them up. He sat down in the empty seat and the game started. Ong had won five games in a row and a modest amount of money. Vikram sat there with his mouth wide open and had his shocked expression laughed at by the other two men. Ong simply sat there and smiled to himself. Vikram supposed that if he was so good at something he would be sitting there and smiling as well. 'I thought everyone was exaggerating about you. What's your secret, man?' If I tell you, I don't have a secret anymore, right?' he replied. Vikram nodded and looked back at Ong who was looking at him intently. He only broke off the stare to glance at the other two men. 'Should I tell him?' He asked them. 'Tell me what?' Vikram inquired. 'Tell you my secret.'

 Vikram looked at the other men who smiled mysteriously back at him. One of them, Francis, opened his mouth to speak. 'You see, we always come here and we know we are going to lose. But it's small money. He plays with big money with people who can afford it. But we come here anyway to try and win. It's like a goal. Once you know his secret, you will know what I mean. It's a challenge.' 'What is your friend's secret?' Ong nodded at the other two comrades and stood up, gesturing for vikram to follow him. Vikram stood up and followed Ong upstairs to what seemed to be his bedroom. On the way up, Ong told him something he had bought in Taiwan; something he had paid thirty five thousand dollars for and something that had helped him win ever since. Vikram cringed at first at the mention of thirty five thousand but after a while, remembered Ong's living room and that he could afford it. They stopped outside a closed door and Ong held the doorknob, looking at him cryptically. 'Ready?' 'I suppose.'

Ong opened the door and Vikram froze in his place. He stared in horror and what he first thought to be a small child moving around the room. He looked at it carefully for awhile and then realized that it was a doll. He took a deep breath and stared, as all his hair stood erect. The doll, in what looked like a geisha outfit, measured about a meter in height. It was made of cloth like most dolls and because of that, he knew it was not a mechanical toy. It was made of cloth and was walking around the room by itself. It had hair in a bun, wore deep red and had a dollar note pinned onto its chest. 'She helps me. 'She may have cost a lot but she has paid me back tenfold.' Ong stared at Vikram's frightened expression and laughed a little. He patted Vikram's back and told him to wait there as he went off and got something. 'Will it...' He stammered. 'No, it won't try and leave the room. Just stay here.' Vikram waited, not wanting to take his eyes off the doll at all. He watched in horror as the doll made what seemed like a routine journey around the room.

Vikram must have dozed off. He did not even know when Ong returned. Vikram got up, shocked. Ong was carrying a plate. On it he saw three slabs of meat. The raw meal stank of blood and he stared on in morbid wonder, realizing that what was actually on the plate was three livers, covered with blood. 'What the...?' Vikram sputtered in outrage. 'She has no batteries, you know. She's alive.' Ong bent down and waited for the doll to come to him. It stopped and he patted her head; the scene was almost perverse. He lay the plate down on the floor and as Vikram stared on, the doll picked up a liver in its nylon stitched hand and bit into it. Vikram felt his pressure rise and his knees go weak. He swallowed the bitter taste at the back of his throat that threatened not to go back and he gripped on to the door frame for support. It took him a while to find his voice. 'Ong,' he said meekly, waiting for him to look at him. 'Ong do you really need this to win?'

Ong gave a condescending smirk and shook his head disapprovingly as if he was looking at a young child stealing a cookie. 'Vikram, Vikram. This is why you will always stay in the middle class.' His voice was smug. He gestured to the doll that Vikram refused to look at. 'And this is why I am rich.' On his way back, having lost more than he had intended, Vikram felt a slight pain in his abdomen. Little did he realize that the doll had feasted on some of his body parts. 

Charmed

Stacy looked at the woman, Jamie. Jamie made her uneasy. For the first time, she felt weird. There were nine guests sitting at the dinner table but that woman, who was introduced to her an hour ago, spooked her. Strangely, she had ended up sitting away from her husband, Ian. Stacy, sitting at the head of the table, looked at all the guests who were indulging in what they had labelled 'the best home cooked meal ever'. Her blood was not yet boiling as much as it was simmering very slowly. She looked upon a young lady seated next to her husband with a huge smile upon her face. The dislike was instant.

She was pretty and eloquent, but that was not why she disliked her. She had heard her husband mention her name several times, but had not given any thought about it. She wore a little yellow sundress with bright floral prints. 'Rather childish for her age', Stacy thought. Stacy was in her early thirties while Jamie looked like she was in her late twenties. Stacy looked at her with the shallowest smile she could muster at the sight of Jamie hitting Ian playfully on the arm. That made her blood boil. How could this woman blatantly flirt with her husband, right under her nose? Right in front of the other guests. has she no shame? The giggling she could handle, the tiny distance Jamie had left between her seat and Ian's, Stacy could handle as well. She could even handle the annoying way she batted her lashes. But that stupid little playful 'hit' from time to time made her want to grab Jamie by the hair and drag her out the door. Goodness knows what she tried at the office. Not to mention how seemingly benign her husband was acting about the whole thing.

Stacy stood up and picked up her plate, pushing her chair back loudly as she got up and headed towards the kitchen. 'You've finished?' As she passed her husband, his hand touched her wrist. She jerked out of his reach, much to his surprise and walked off, muttering a simple 'yes'. She knew that if she did not do something to regain her peace of mind, this would be bothering her for the next two weeks at least. She scrubbed the same plate under running water for the next fifteen minutes, thinking about things of the past. There was a way she could get back at Jamie but she was not sure whether it was the right way. Stacy's grandmother had died a bitter woman and had taught her what she termed as 'how to take care of yourself', a phrase which encompassed various forms of black magic that could be used on people to take revenge on them for what they had done to you. Stacy's mother, however, was a woman who lived a blissful married life and had always reminded Stacy not to listen to her grandmother. Such was the confusion she grew up with.

She had never thought of using what her grandmother had once so passionately taught her. She looked at the plate after awhile, almost realizing that she could see her reflection in it. She towel dried it, then placing it in the dish holder along with everything else. She took a deep breath and walked back to the dining table. She had walked back only to find Jamie laughing in her little coy manner and leaning towards her oblivious husband. Stacy glared at her, the line dividing right and wrong concerning her grandmother's teachings was blurring greatly. The next day, Stacy took the glass she had stashed away in one of the kitchen cupboards out when her husband was at work. It was still half filled with the white wine that Jamie had been drinking. She took it to her room and looked at the rough figurine of a person she had made out of cloth and stuffed with tissue. She placed it in a basin and poured the water over it so that it soaked it in like a sponge. She closed her eyes and chanted a spell she had been taught a long time ago and then opened them to put on a pair of oven mitts.

She had been wondering what she was actually going to do and then remembered the woman's irritating laugh. She picked up the leaf she had plucked from the potted plant that grew just outside her neighbor's house and put in on the wooden board. She rolled it with her rolling ping until white sap seeped all over the board. Throwing away the leaf, she carefully placed the doll in the wood and used it to wipe the wood clean, letting the cloth absorb as much moisture as it could. When she was done, she chanted a spell over it again. She centered her energy and sent it forth to do her work, after which she placed the doll in a box and took off her gloves. Switching off her room light, she closed the door behind her and went out to watch the news on television. The next day when Ian came back from work, he looked rather flustered. Apparently, he and Jamie had been working on a project together, which they were supposed to have presented. Jamie, the ever so sociable one, had prepared the speech but two hours before the presentation, mysteriously she had lost her voice. She could not speak at all.

It had been very strange because she had shown no signs of a sore throat. It had been very frustrating for Ian who had to make the presentation himself while Jamie sat next to him saying nothing at all. Stacy smiled secretly to herself and wondered how far this thing would go if she did not do anything about it. She patted him on the back and told him to relax; he would not have to go to work until after the weekend was over. Things got much worse for Jamie over the weekend. On Monday, Ian come back and told his wife that she had not come in to work because she had developed some sort of rash. She looked at him in his mild angst. Obviously, if Jamie was not there, work would pile up for him. She should have known; she should not have done this in the first place. Placing a reversing spell upon the doll the next day when her husband left for work, she threw it down the rubbish chute and hoped for the best. She delved into her memories, trying to remember what her grandmother had taught her about reversing spells. She had made a special concoction out of herbs and spices that would help speed up her recovery as well as relieve her throat. She had unstitched the doll and emptied its contents into the dustbin.

She arrived at the work place the day after, finding out that Jamie had planned on going despite whatever rash she had had. Stacy stopped by the office during lunch so as to pass her the flask filled with her concoction. She found Jamie and her husband having lunch together in the cafeteria. Her husband looked more shocked than he should have been, to see her. In fact, he looked almost alarmed. She saw him inform Jamie of her presence as she approached and the smile left the young girl's face. When Stacy was about five meters away from them, she realized why Jamie had not wanted to come to work. Her mouth was covered in healing sores. They looked incredibly painful and did not do well in complimenting the rest of her face. 'Hi Ian,' she smiled as she gave him a peck on the cheek. 'How are you?'

She turned from him to look at Jamie. 'But more importantly, how are you? My goodness, your mouth! I mean, I don't mean to be rude. Does it hurt? I actually brought you something for your throat. I heard it was quite bad. Are you okay?' Jamie's face had gone pale. Had it been fear that caused it, Stacy would have thought she had seen a ghost. But it was quite obvious that Jamie looked guilty. She shook off the thought and attributed it to the fact that she had been flirting with her husband a few days ago. She told her it was just a recipe her grandmother had taught her how to make and that her throat would be better in no time. 'You... you really shouldn't have,' Jamie stammered. 'It's no trouble. You had just got better, and it's not like I have anything else to do with my time. I'm going now. But you take care, okay?' Maybe if Stacy had put two and two together, she might have figured out what was going on right then. If she had read the alarmed look on her husband's face with the guilt on Jamie's face, she might have been able to see what was going on.

But the news came written all over Ian's lips three days later when he came home from work. 'What's that on your mouth, Ian?' She had asked, concerned. 'I told you to stop scratching this morning.' He rubbed his mouth vigorously, his eyes darting everywhere. She walked up to him and looked at his lips. They were covered in sores, the same ones she had seen on Jamie's lips, the kind of sores that could not be passed on unless it was through direct contact. 'How did you get those sores?' She asked blankly. Deep inside, both of them knew the answer. She had never felt so humiliated and so angry in her entire life. But it was okay. There was still enough material for another doll.

Death Milk

Monica returned to her house in the North West of England after having a few drinks with friends at a nearby pub. Surprisingly, no one was awake when she came back, just before midnight. The effects of the alcohol starting to get to her head, she decided to make herself a cheese sandwich to balance off the fact that she had drunk on an empty stomach. She took out a large chunk of cheddar and left it on the kitchen counter, the urge to use the toilet becoming suddenly overwhelming. After going and coming back, she found to her surprise that the cheese was nowhere to be found. Getting even more confused that the alcohol made her, she shook her head and went to the refrigerator. The cheddar not being in there either, she took out some edam and made her sandwich. She then went to her room and drifted off to sleep.

She woke up the next morning to her mother's yelling. The voice in all its volume did not seem to care that she was asleep and demanded an answer to what she had down to the kitchen 'when she came in drunk' the night before. Groggily, Monica walked to the kitchen and peered inside, her eyes popping open at the sight. Small puddles of milk and slices of cheddar cheese covered the floor as if their kitchen had been the venue of the biggest dairy celebration the night before. Thinking that she must have caused the mess, although she was pretty sure she did not, she simply cleared it up quietly. A large jersey cow started to appear outside the house even though they lived in a large town with no cows nearby. Every morning, it would appear and look in through the kitchen window as if trying to find out what was going on inside the house.

Monica's aunt who attended spiritual meetings on a regular basis said that she had been contacted by an animal spirit named Daisy and asked Monica whether she had any idea what that meant. Obviously, Monica was just as puzzled as her. This went on for the next three weeks. The night before those three weeks were up, the cow appeared on their driveway one night as well. The very next day, Monica's aunt was found dead. After examinations were carried out, it was found that she died under strange circumstances. Because of this, an investigation took place. She was found to be one of the first victims of the human version of the Mad Cow disease. The cow was never to be seen again.

Get Together

In the summer of 1995, Scott had a sort of family get together with his cousins and one of his aunts. Most of them lived around Dublin, except for his aunts and her son, who lived in England. They had been up till three in the morning sitting in the living room, drinking and watching old movies and had only retired when Stella, his youngest cousin aged fifteen, had fallen asleep on her mother's lap. They had turned in, his aunts going to her room, the other five staying in the living room, lying on every available surface there was. Has his parents been there, Scott would have gotten a scolding.

Less than an hour later, everyone except their aunts was awoken by a scream. It jerked Scott awake with such great force that he was on his feet and looking down on everyone else within a matter of seconds. Everyone's eyes were open by the time seventeen year old Jenine came running in as white as a sheet. Scott, Stella, George and Gary all started asking what was wrong at the same time. Jenine said that she had been in the toilet when she saw the reflection of a lady in red looking back at her from the mirror. She had screamed and spun around to find no one behind her. She had run out of the toilet almost in tears and had come straight back to the living room. Stella, not fully awake, looked at her rather confused. George and Gary, who were in their early twenties, tried not to smile, as both knew how badly Jenine held her alcohol. Scott, who fell right in the middle when it came to age, stared at her with blatant cynicism. He had lived in the house for four years and no one had ever complained of any strange happenings. He personally did not believe in ghosts and, as far as he knew, there were none that lived in his house. He asked her to bring him back to the bathroom to show him exactly where the woman would have been standing had she actually been there. Upset that no one seemed to believe her, or even seemed to be concerned in the first place, she pulled him to the kitchen and into the bathroom. Being awake already, the other three followed close behind.

Scott and Jenine walked into the bathroom. Their voices could he heard from the outside. They got louder and louder after awhile, it became apparent that they were arguing. The door suddenly burst open and Jenine came storming out, her eyes red. Scott came out after her, looking more irritated than he had ever been in his life. Jenine headed straight for the living room and picked up her bag. 'Jenine,' Scott had said, impatiently. 'Jenine, be reasonable!' She unlocked the front door, left and slammed it behind her. Giving an annoyed grunt, he raised his hands in the air in a frustrated gesture and walked back into the living room. He looked back into the kitchen and ask everyone to go to sleep. Jenine was just doing what she had been born to do: look for attention.

'Good morning, all,' his aunt said as she walked into the kitchen in her nightgown. They all replied in unison, without looking up from whatever it was they were doing. 'where's your mom, Scott?' 'My mom?' He asked, surprised. 'She won't be back till tomorrow.' His aunt stopped in her tracks and turned white. She said she had seen his mom when she got up in the middle of the night. She had sat up in her bed and looked out the window to see her walking around in the garden. Thinking she had wanted some quiet time alone, she had not gotten up. She had been wearing a red dress.

Someone's There

Janis walked into her new house and stopped in her tracks. Everything seemed to be in place. The furniture, which had come yesterday looked beautiful and the carpets were still clean. Her eyes lingered above the fireplace and drifted around the area in general. The pictures which she and her husband had hung up on the fireplace were all still there. They were just hung at a million and one different angles. Ten pictures altogether, she thought as she placed each one properly. They had all been hung at right angles the way pictures were normally hung. but the minute she walked through the door, she noticed that they were hanging at different angles, some looking as if they were pointing to one another, one even upside down.

She had the distinct feeling that someone was watching her as she rearranged the photos. Once she was done, she spun around, certain someone was looking at her, but found no one. The silence of the house suddenly became to deafening and she wished her husband was back to help her kill it. Turning around to check the photos again, she felt a tremor run through her body. All the photos were at their strange angles once again. She put her hand on her tummy and started to sing nervously to her child who had yet to see the world and walked up the stairs quietly. 'I doubt it's anything... probably something to do with far away earthquakes or something.' It was late and they were both tired. 'Something that would move the photos, that I would not feel?' She asked skeptically. Her husband put his book down and put his arm around her, kissing her on the cheek. 'I would let nothing harm you.'

Adam, their six year old son came in running that night, saying that a lady had been in his room late at night and that he was scared of her. His father had taken him into his arms straight away and told him that there was no lady. He could sleep with them that night but he would have to be brave. Janis knew something was amiss. 'Lady Ma,' said Adam, rather pleasantly, pointing to the far corner of the room. Adam had been doing that for the past three days since the incident with the photos. Sometimes he would point to a corner and sometimes he would point to the inside of a room. Sometimes he would even talk to the imaginary lady as if she was actually there. It was a beautiful sunny day, Janis was in the kitchen. Suddenly feeling hands on her shoulders, she turned around, wondering why her husband was so early and why she had not heard him come in. She turned around and came face to face with an old woman who stood a mere half meter away from her.

She had shiny silver hair and deep set brown eyes. Her face was completely wrinkled and she wore a stony expression. She stared at Janis and said nothing. Janis ran out the front door. She collapsed outside her house, in a dead faint. Her husband was just coming up the driveway as she fell onto the lawn. he rushed her to the hospital but she regained consciousness only a good half hour later. She had a miscarriage. She refused to step into the house again. Would you?

Trapped

Adam turned around slowly to look at the faucet, which he had just turned off, the reflection of the running water in his eyes. A shiver ran down his spine and all his hair stood on end. he had just gone to the toilet when he heard the sound of running water. Sometimes someone would leave the tap on, wasting the precious water that flowed out of it. If his hearing had been any sharper he would have been able to hear dripping all the way from his room. but he did not need to because the tap had not been dripping; water had been flowing out of it in abundance. He had walked over to the bathroom and turned off the tap in the bathtub wondering how anyone could have left such a heavy flow going without realizing it. Alone at home, his parents and grandfather being out, the sound of running water had come almost the second he got up from his nap. But the minute he had turned the tap off and turned around, he had heard the sound of running water resume right behind him.

At that was what he stood looking at. moving backwards, he sat on the edge of the bathtub, he turned the knob of the tap once more and turned it off. He turned it back and forth for a little while to check if it was loose and found that it was perfectly fine. Turning it back off, he got up and looked at it for a little while before turning back around... and suddenly again... he heard... the water turning on again. Now Adam had only been staying there for three weeks and was not sure what to make of the situation. He wished his grandfather who had stayed there for quite a while, was there so that he could ask whether this was a normal occurrence. but he was alone and would have to ponder about this by himself.

He stood up and looked around the bathroom, feeling and knowing that he was not alone. unable to shake the feeling off, he did not care about the water anymore, he turned around and was about to walk out the door when it slammed shut before of him. Managing to grab the handle, he pulled with all his might., but it would not budge. He kicked the door and tried once again to pull it open but it did not work. The the shower turned on behind him. Adam felt trapped. Spinning around, he saw not only water coming out of the spout but steam rising as well from the tub. The was was hot. The tap at the sink started to turn itself on as well, steam beginning to rise from there as well. He pulled at the door but it would not budge. He knew what would happen if he did not get out from there soon. He was already beginning to feel the increasing heat at the back of his neck. he did not want to be boiled alive... But it was the unknown entity in the room with him that frightened him the most.

He lunged at the door, the air becoming increasingly hard to breath. he could feel little droplets of water spurting from the bathtub as the water level increased. not only did the heat plague him, but the sound as well. The water was on full speed at all three faucets and was causing a noise that sounded like a thunderstorm as the water gushed out and spilled onto what was now the bathroom floor. 'Aren't you going to bathe?' a voice boomed out suddenly. It sent shock waves into Adam. There was mean, dry laughter. he yelled for help from people who were not there and banged at the door, trying to create as much noise as possible. The water seemed to be trying to overpower him. The it just stopped. The water did not just slow down and come to a gradual stop; everything turned off at one and the door slid open, causing Adam to stumble out of the bathroom and onto the carpet outside. Relieved but still in shock, he lay on the ground, happy that he was out. he turned to look back at the steamed mirror and the water, which was now rushing along the floor and into the drain hole beneath the sink.

This bathroom was his grandfather's. The other two bathrooms were located at the kitchen and his parent's room. Adam had never actually used that bathroom till that day when he had gone to see if the water was running. Little did he know that his grandfather did not use the bathroom at all. In fact there had been a lock on the outside of the door, which his grandfather went to search for after Adam told him about the incident.It had mysteriously disappeared.

Resurrection

Stacey lived in an old three storey house with several of her friends. They had lived there for about three years before the four of them managed to save up enough money to move somewhere else. All four of them acknowledged that it was haunted and everyone had agreed from the beginning that they would have to save to move out. It was just that they had gotten the place dirt cheap... of course they found out why soon after. The house was located on Montgomery Street in Rhinebeck, New York. The four of them agreed that two entities were hunting the house and that one was a normal spirit and the other a poltergeist. The poltergeist activity consisted of glasses that broke by themselves, toilet seats that perpetually came down after being lifted and things disappearing and being found again a few days later. Every now and then, Stacey would wake up to feel somebody tickling her feet.

Once in a while, the four felt like they were not alone. It would not happen in any particular room or any level of the house. The feeling would just come randomly and would hit them with crystal clarity. These feelings they mainly attributed to the ghostly activity. One day, after a heavy thunderstorm, Stacey came in from the front porch and looked up the stairs to see an old woman standing there. A loud crash came from one of the upstairs closets and diverted her attention away from the old woman. She had only looked away for a second, but when she looked back, the woman was gone. She had rushed up the stairs to find a clothes rack, which had fallen down by itself. On the third of August, Stacey and her friend Grace who had fallen asleep together talking on their bed woke up to a room that was ice cold. They could see their breath steam up when they breathed out and found their blanket pulled back and folded neatly at the foot of the bed. Hearing strange noises coming from the attic, at two in the morning., they ran down the stairs and spent the rest of the night on the front porch refusing to go back in. But thinking that the act had been one without bad intentions, they decided not to call the others so as not to worry them.

Their landlady, a pleasant old woman, kept telling them an old man would be standing at the porch every time she passed. The one time she tried to talk to him he had disappeared into thin air. Other people who visited them said they saw a man looking through the window on the second floor. Once, the four of them decided to conduct a thorough investigation of the house and found, in the attic, a brick wall. No other part of the house was made of brick and as they approached it, the temperature suddenly dropped and a feeling of impending doom settled upon them. One of them actually tried to touch the wall but just as she did, the lights went out. Once, when investigating the cellar, they found an old chest which they discovered belonged to an old sea captain who had died there in the late 1800s.

Stacey was the last to take her suitcase and leave the day they moved out. The others were waiting for her in the car as she took one last look at the house. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that if she did not leave soon, she would be hurt in some way. As she left, one of the light fixtures that had been directly above her fell from the second floor landing and smashed as it fell to the ground.

Beastly Attack

On Grant Street in Denver, Colorado, a house stands. It stands as testimony to something sinister that happened to those who walk by it and know what has happened within its walls. Other just pass by and glance at it like it is another old house. Most people find that when you pass it, your eyes are either drawn to the windows to see what lives within or you are compelled to look away so you don't have to. Amy stayed at that house for three years before convincing her husband that they had to move. Jeff, a practical man, was a civil engineer and often traveled around the country and occasionally the world because of his career. Amy never felt like he neglected them but she did miss him. Sometimes her son Jeremiah would cry because he missed his daddy. He was only six, and could not understand why his daddy could not just do his job in their own hometown.

But while he was away, he provided for them well. Even though he was barely there, he made sure they lived comfortably, almost luxuriously and made sure they had everything they needed. Amy knew he loved them. She just wished that she could see more of him. The house had been a surprise for them and she had been delighted when they had moved in. Everything was perfect, down to the lawn, which was cleanly mowed, and the picket fence all painted white. Something tugged at her senses though when Jeremiah started crying the minute they walked in. The thought that something was wrong crossed her mind but left as quickly as it had come. She had been sleeping one night when she awoke to find someone looking down at her from the foot of her bed. She had screamed and thrown her pillow at him, but he disappeared. Thinking that maybe the man had been the reminder of a dream she had been having, she decided that she should not be too worried about it; she had always had a vivid imagination after all.

But things started to take a malicious turn once her husband left the first time after they got the house. Missing him very badly one night, she just sat there in her bed, trying to get to sleep, but only drifting in and out of consciousness. She was jerked awake by something that had simply given her one hell of a push: with so much force it threw her off the bed. Her eyes had flung open with the shock as she landed on the floor with a loud thud. In panic, she frantically scanned the area. But there was absolutely no one in the room. If anyone had been there and was able to leave at that speed, she would have been adequately worried. But the door was locked and the only who could have opened it form the outside was Jeremiah, who kept the key under his pillow in case the monsters under the bed came to bother him again. The windows could only be opened from the inside, so there was no question of anybody coming in through there either. She went back to sleep and slept peacefully for the next two nights until something even more disturbing happened.

She had been fast asleep when she had woken up to a throbbing pain in her head. She felt herself crash onto the floor and tried to figure out what had happened. She soon realized that something or someone had soundlessly picked her up and flung her against the wall. The movement had been so fast that she had only opened her eyes when she hit her head. She was so scared that she had just lain there, crumpled against the wall, shivering. Jeremiah had come into the room wondering where Mummy was because she was usually out by the time making him breakfast. She apologized and got up, saying that she had not been feeling very well. She made him breakfast and wanted to ask him whether anything had happened over the past few nights while he was sleeping. But she waited till they were outside and waiting for the bus before gently making her query. She was not sure why she did so. She just did not want anything that was in the house to hear her being concerned for her son. She felt that if it did, it would start to pick on him as well. He looked very curious when she asked, but said no.

Feeling slightly calmer, she went back into the living room and sat by the phone unable to decide whether or not she should call her husband. She felt she had to tell him but she did not want him to worry. What happened that night, repeated itself four more times over the next eight months or so. In between, Amy's husband came to visit her once. He was there for three weeks and while he was there, nothing happened. Because of that, she had decided not to tell him. But when he left, it started to happen all over again. At one point, she found herself so emotionally distraught that she could not even find the strength to leave the living room and go upstairs to the room she feared; her own. It was as if this thing was playing with her mind. Every time her husband left, it would come back to visit her and wreak havoc on her life and emotional stability. But every time he was there, it went into hibernation and pretended that it did not exist. The last time he left the house though, things took a different turn. Nothing attacked her for the next month, and she thought what had seemingly lived in her bedroom had left. Little did she know that it still dwelled in her house.

She found that out when she heard a noise coming from her basement one night. Scared that it might be an intruder, she took the pistol she now kept in her drawer and walked downstairs quietly. She opened the basement door. She switched on the light. She fell to the floor as something attacked her. She found herself being mauled by something she now realized was a dog. It looked like a huge overgrown Doberman with razor sharp teeth. She was trying to push it away with her arms but it kept aiming for her neck. For a split second she found herself eye to eye with the creature, and realized she was staring into eyes that were a deep yet bright red. She screamed and for a second she thought she heard someone answer her. The dog got up and walked down the basement stairs and just before it disappeared, she saw the outline of a figure bend down and pat it on the head before it disappeared as well. She sat on the top of the stairs and looked down, terrified. She ran up to the living room to call her husband and told him everything. Jeremiah and her stayed in a hotel that night and were out of the house permanently within a week.

Haunted

Jack, for the sake of finding work and moved in the autumn of 1992 from the North East England to Nottingham to find work. His girlfriend's family had been kind souls who liked him and who volunteered to put him up till he could find his own accommodations. The house was fairly large and when he came home from interviews and house hunting, his girlfriend would be in school and her parents would be out at work. Because of this, he spent many of hours alone in the house with nothing much to do. The house had been there since the early 1600s and was a renovated farmhouse with seven bedrooms and an attic, which now held three bedrooms and a bathroom. The only thing about everyone being out was you could do things that you wanted to do but could not while others were in. Often when they were not in, he would take the luxury of showering with the music on or walking to the kitchen in towel.

Once when he was in the attic, he had the strange feeling that he was not alone. The bath water was running and the music was on and he went to fetch a towel from the closet. He was quite surprised to find the door open; the door, which he had closed just two minutes earlier. A shiver ran down his spine because opening the door was very hard you had to push it with much force because the carpeting was so lush. You had to push it till you felt and heard the latch click before you knew for sure that it was closed. He went into the bathroom and while he was showering, even above the music, he heard the door, which he had just closed, begin to open again. He made his shower a quick one and hurried downstairs where he waited for his girlfriend till she came back. Expecting either some sympathy or at least a rational explanation, all he got when she came back was a lecture on the dangers of being paranoid.

Once they were lying in bed together at night when the room suddenly turned cold. It was as if the temperature simply dropped all of a sudden. The drop was so quick and so drastic that they both looked at each other at the same time. Loretta was the first one to see it. A shadow about eight feet in length - a torso, a shoulder and a head could be seen on the wall directly in front of them. He could sense that she was on the brink of silent hysteria when he suddenly told her to start moving everything around to see what was causing it. They moved the duvet, pillows and even the lampshade but nothing worked and the shadow stayed on the wall. 'Why won't it go away?' She kept asking frantically, shoving everything in every direction. They stood there, horrified as the shadow slid down off the wall and into the shadow, which was cast by the bed. They fell asleep holding each other and into a troubled sleep. At two in the morning, a man's screams awoke him. It was a distant sound, which had been loud enough to wake him but not her. It was so strange, a scream of a grown man, crying loud in pain.

It had been hard for him to go back to sleep but he had managed it eventually. At about four in the morning, he woke up with the same scream because someone had grabbed his foot. He woke up screaming to find that his girlfriend was screaming as well. They both immediately blamed each other for grabbing each other's foot. Instinctively, they looked at the foot of the bed and saw a figure dropping beneath it. Neither of them were able to sleep that night. Once it was light they slept until noon. After finding a place of his own and moving out, he found out from his girlfriend that her sister would not venture up to the top floor because she felt threatened by something in the spare room. Another friend she made later on said that she saw a sailor dressed all in white walking along the hallway of the top floor. He looked at her and walked into the hall, which bordered the guest room. All this happened about four years ago, and Jack and Loretta are no longer together. The house belongs to someone else now and he has not heard of it since. He lives with his new girlfriend in her house which is another old one and creaks ans groans as you walk through it.

The creaks and groans make him happy though. He recognizes those sounds, unlike those screams that come and go still in his nightmares.