Prompt: He turned the key in the lock and opened the door. To his horror, he saw…
As
Stephen sat in the parlor waiting to hear back from the detective, he
reminisced about how he came to buy this house. He had been getting ready to
leave work about a month ago, when his supervisor called him in. Stephen smiled
as he remembered how worried he had been about the meeting. But the meeting
hadn’t been bad news at all; instead his supervisor informed him that he got a
promotion and with it came a fine raise.
Pleased
to hear that all his hard work was paying off, Stephen had decided that it was
time he buy himself a house and think about settling down. He looked at a few
that he liked, but none of them compared to the colonial mansion he fell in
love with. After going back and forth with the owners, they finally accepted
his generous offer and Stephen was able to close the deal on his new house. It
was time for him to set to work making plans for the move.
Two weeks
later he handed over his apartment keys to the new tenants, and rented a hotel
room for the night. He had hired movers, and had to wait until they finished
moving all his stuff into the house and setting it up for him. That night
Stephen had vague dreams of himself living in the mansion. He slept fitfully as
the dreams woke him up with a sense of apprehension. He had never been one to
buy into supernatural occurrences of any kind, so he would just shake off the
feelings, roll over and go back to sleep each time.
The
next day Stephen checked out of the hotel, and drove out to the country where
the house was. As he drove, he thought about how nice it would be to get away
from the bustle of the city. It wasn’t a long drive, and as Stephen went up the
little lane to the house, he noticed the movers’ truck was gone already. He
walked up the steps to the large front porch and crossed it to the door.
Almost
giddy with excitement, Stephen turned the key in the lock and opened the door.
But to his horror he saw blood stained handprints all over the walls. He rubbed
his eyes and blinked a few times, thinking maybe he was dreaming or seeing
things. But every time he opened them again, the stains were still there. He
left his overnight bag by the door and began walking through the rooms. They
were all the same, with blood spatters everywhere. Oddly though, there were no
stains on any of his furniture or boxes. There weren’t any footprints, and no bodies
left behind, upstairs or down. Stephen couldn’t even find a weapon.
So
Stephen went back downstairs, and grabbed his cell from the overnight bag he
had left by the front door. He called the police station and reported what he
had found upon coming to the house. He was instructed not to enter the house
again until an officer arrived, so after he hung up with the station, he sat in
his car to wait. His skin crawled with chills and goose bumps as he looked at
the house. He wondered all kinds of things. What happened? When did it happen?
If the movers had entered and saw this, why didn’t they phone him? His head
swam and he closed his eyes turning his head away.
Half an
hour passed and finally he heard a car coming up the lane to the house. Stephen
opened his eyes to watch the end of the drive through the trees, but decided to
stay in his car until he was sure it was an officer. As the car drew nearer, he
saw the police markings on it and stepped out of his car to greet the officer.
They spoke briefly before the officer went to see the inside of the house for
himself. He wasn’t inside long before Stephen heard him calling on his radio
for back up and forensics.
The
place was crawling with all kinds of people for the rest of the day. Pictures
and samples were taken. Questions were asked. Stephen called the moving company
he had used and asked them about it. Everything had been normal when they were
there, but they were called in for questioning anyway. The previous owners, who
had sold the house to Stephen were questioned as well, and reported no strange
occurrences other than the normal trick of the mind and house settling noises.
The woods around the house were searched, but nothing was found there either.
As
everyone was getting ready to leave for the night, Stephen decided he was going
to stay in a hotel again. He would come back in the morning to let the cleaning
crew in. That night, he didn’t sleep at all. Every time he closed his eyes, all
he could see was blood stained handprints everywhere. For hours he tossed and
turned trying to sleep. At one point he even turned on the television as a
distraction. It didn’t help.
As the
sky turned grey with the light of dawn, Stephen rose and took a cold shower.
After eating a bowl of cereal, he packed up his bag once more, and drove back
out to his mansion. No one was there yet and he debated on waiting for them, or
not. He decided not to wait and headed up the front steps. His hand trembled as
he reached to unlock the door. Images from the day before flashed in his mind.
Slowly he turned the doorknob and, with his eyes shut, pushed the door open.
He gave
a long sigh, stepped just inside the door, and opened his eyes. Stephen couldn’t
believe it, everything was spotless. No stains, no handprints, there was
nothing. He called the station, and asked if the cleaning crew had worked on it
over night. When asked why, he explained to them what he found when he arrived
there not half an hour ago. As he was talking he hears cars on the lane again,
and turned to see a cleaning crew escorted by an officer.
The
house was inspected thoroughly and more samples were taken. No one could figure
out what had happened. The detective who had been there the day before assured
Stephen that they would be in touch with the results of the samples. But
Stephen wasn’t sure if he should stay there yet. After reassurances from the
cleaning crew and authorities, he decided to phone a friend to come stay with
him at the house.
Over
the next couple of weeks, as Stephen and his friend unpacked all of his things
and began minor renovations, there were no more blood stains found. However,
they often found items had been moved. Sometimes things would just vanish
completely. None of it could be explained, and he could tell the people at the
police station were beginning to think him crazy when he would call to report
these things to the detective.
So
Stephen had made one last attempt to contact the detective, and now sat in the
parlor waiting for his call to be returned. He had been lost deep in thought
when the phone did ring, and it startled him out of the memories. Grabbing the
phone, he answered and gave a weak smile as he heard the detective’s voice on
the other end. They spoke briefly, and Stephen was informed no progress had
been made, and the case was being closed. The detective ended the conversation
with one piece of advice. If Stephen still really wanted to know what had
happened, then he should contact a paranormal investigator…
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