GHOST STORIES FOR ALL !!

[lymelight]

Anyone have any ghost stories to share ?? I'll kick us off then !

WAITING

" I've been waiting".

He heard the voice as soon as he entered the dusty attic, yet he was clearly alone here, even his footprints showed up on the dust-covered floor. Shrugging his shoulders, he put it down to over-work and stress, but he still went ahead with a search of the room. As he thought, he was alone. It looked as though it had been used before as a childs nursery or playroom. A few old toys remained where they had been left, in the corner a fine old rocking-horse looking the worse for wear but against the far wall was a magnificent Dolls House, he had never seen one like it....a huge thing, almost as tall as him, a mansion and looked to be in pristine condition, gleaming in spite of the gloom in here, with pretty curtained windows looking out into the attic. Whoever the children that played here were, they were very, very lucky indeed.

" I've been waiting".

He spun round, peering into the gloom....where was that coming from ? Next door maybe, children playing ? Although he couldn't be sure it was a childs voice even, it sounded both old and young but that was just plain crazy. He turned his attention to the Dolls House again, sitting by the side of it was a doll, which was strange as he didn't recall seeing it a few minutes ago but then it was dark in here.He threw open a skylight to let some light in, and went back across to the doll. He picked her up and examined her, the golden-blonde curls seemed free of dust and she was in remarkable condition for being confined here in the dirt and dark. What are you thinking doll, what would you say if you could talk, how have you kept so clean here in this lonely place ? Now this was even crazier than hearing the voice, here he was talking to a doll of all things.

He put her down gently where he had found her and got on with what he was supposed to be doing. He had just bought the house as his getaway from it all and this room would suit him perfectly as somewhere he could paint, write and be alone, be at peace.

" I need someone to play with".

What the..............if this was what overwork and stress did to you then it was going to be a very good move indeed to settle himself here. Playfully he approached the doll.....but surely....he had put her down on the left side of the house, then how could it be she was now on the right. He looked closely at her face, at her smile which seemed wider now somehow, was it you, do you speak after all or do you just look. An idea came to him, perhaps this was an old battery-operated doll which had a few phrases it could repeat and when he had picked her up he had activated it somehow although that could not explain the words he heard when entering the room. He politely said excuse me as he pushed her dress up to check her back for a battery compartment, but there was none. Right, he told himself, time to get downstairs for a stiff drink before I go completely mad.

He took one step towards the door and as he did so, the room began to spin, it seemed to be pressing down on him from angles, the ceiling was moving downwards and the floor was rising up to meet it, instead of the feeling of being crushed, he had one of being at one with the room as though his own dimensions were altering to suit the new dimensions of the room.He was shrinking into himself, getting smaller with each second that went by. He could no longer find the door, his legs refused to work and oddly enough escape itself was no longer desirable or necessary even.

He had no awareness of time passing but passed it had. He opened his eyes. His ears strained for the noise which had awoken him. To his right sat a girl with golden-blonde curls. She put her fingers to her lips " Shh........look"

He looked out through the pretty curtained windows into the attic......he could dimly see a man was there, walking around, taking measurements, muttering to himself " Great house this, can't believe its been empty for so long".

The girls with the golden-blonde curls,his playmate, looked at him. He nodded, understanding. "Now" she whispered.

" We've been waiting" they said.

[Margar]

I like this. good mental imagery. only critique would be that you have some quotes in the middle of the story with no quotation marks around them it would help to make it more clear that he was talking. and when he had thoughts to himself, you could put them in italics. just makes it more clear whether it's the narrator, subject talking, or subjects thoughts.

other than that, I like the story

[lymelight]

Thanks...it's a valid point you make

[Margar]

I found myself visualizing the scene as i read. you captured the setting and feeling very well. it was like a little movie playing in my head as i read. it's not really scary or ghost-ish, but rather a bit disturbing/creepy. either way, great effect.

[lymelight]

A LITTLE NIGHT MUSIC


A new home, a new life.......something which had been on the cards for sometime but now fully realised at last. A chance visit to an old friend in a quiet seaside town had given me the impetus to make the changes I needed to make and a few short months later here I was. I had purchased a cottage in the old part of town with enough money left over to live fairly comfortably. It is a town much frequented by writers and artists and whilst I considered myself as neither one or the other, I had ambitions in those directions.

I found myself a part time job to while away some of my time, the job was neither demanding nor exciting, just a little driving position, if nothing else, it gave me the opportunity to see more of the area than perhaps I would have done otherwise. I managed to get the cottage straight and almost homely within days, my possessions were few and my needs simple, as long as I had a home for my CDs and books, I was happy.

I noticed quickly how the narrowness of the street combined with the height of the buildings conspired to trap noise and amplify it, conversations of a not particularly loud nature could be heard clearly at night when all else was still but still I was surprised one night to be woken by the sound of a violin being played. I was only disturbed momentarily however, long enough to register the beauty of the playing before I fell back into a deep sleep. In the morning, I could not be sure whether I had dreamt the episode, I had never heard it being played before, but then maybe last night was especially quiet, but then again it must have been around one in the morning and would I really expect to hear someone practising on their instrument at that time ? . It was hardly important anyway and I resolved to put it out of my head.

A few nights later I found my sleep disturbed again by the sound of the violin, I knew this time it definitely wasn't a dream......I sat upright in bed listening and as before it was truly beautiful, I couldn't tell you what was being played, my knowledge of classical music was skimpy to the point of it being non-existent but even I could appreciate the wonder of the piece, it was both hypnoptic and comforting. I glanced at my watch, one-thirty in the morning. I listened for a couple of minutes before and then the playing abruptly stopped and although my night had been disturbed I was strangely disappointed at the cessation of this night music.

The next day was taken up with more mundane matters such as work in the morning and in the afternoon I had arranged for a local electrician to have a look in the wiring in the cottage, it looked as though it had had no attention for a long time. He comfirmed my fears after inspecting fully the intricacies of the electrics and announced it would need re-wiring completely and the sooner the better. It was an expense I had not budgeted for yet I could hardly not have the work done, safety was paramount.

That night, I was again awoken by the sound of the violin, this time my violinist, whoever he or she may be, was playing a more urgent piece, it filled my mind, my soul even......I was entranced. Strangely, it seemed much louder.....was this due to the different nature of the piece being played ?.......but, no it seemed not only louder but closer too. I got out of bed and crossed to the window and looked out into the empty street, all was peaceful out there and as far as I could tell, no one else was disturbed by the quite, quite beautiful music.

The next day, I had the notion of asking around to see if I could shed any light on the violinist who felt the need to practice at such unsociable hours. In the end I thought better of it and one of the reasons was that I did not want it to stop, I had become enraptured by the music as though it was only for me and I did not want to take the chance that by asking questions I may inadvertently have put he or she off from playing.

That night again followed the same pattern as before, the music would wake me around one-thirty and shut off abruptly a few minutes later, The difference this time was that the music was undeniably louder and closer to me, if I hadn't known better I would have sworn that the music was coming from within the bedroom itself. I put my ear to the wall which connected me to the next cottage, it wasn't coming from there but it was so very near, again I looked out of the window into the empty street, I don't know what I thought I was going to see....a man or woman playing the violin feverishly under the street lamp maybe ?

The day passed in a dream, all I could think about was this strange, beautiful music which visited me night after night and that night I was in a positive hurry to go to bed. I slept well surprisingly but was drawn out of my sleep once again by the sound of the violin. I can't really describe to you how this music made me feel it was possibly the most beautiful melody I had ever heard or maybe, will ever hear. I looked towards the bedroom door for it seemed to be that's where this spellbinding music was coming from. There was a dim light by the door which became a glow and gradually this nebulous shape became the figure of a man, his right hand gliding the bow across his violin, he backed away from the door towards the stairs, his eyes imploring me to follow. I was by now wholly trapped within this glorious, bewitching music and I followed willingly.....all the way down the stairs he went, playing all the time. Before I knew it, I was out in the street, he was out there, still playing although I had not seen him open the front door, in fact I knew he hadn't as I had to draw the bolt back. He looked at me one last time and this fabulous melody, this beautiful melody came to an end abruptly. He was gone. I had not time to ponder on this for there came a sharp crack from within the cottage and all at once the bedroom was engulfed in flames. There was a phone box on the corner and I sprinted those few yards in record time and dialled 999.

The first fire engine was there in minutes and I watched them go about their work, the flames were everywhere now, licking out from every window, the smoke billowing down the street taking with it my dreams.
After a few hours, the fire was out and everything had been dampened down, the fire chief was sifting through the wreckage, no doubt looking for the cause of the fire. I was in a neighbours' house, she had very kindly taken me in and had given me a breakfast and kept me supplied with an endless stream of coffee. All I think about was how I would still have been in the bedroom had I not followed my violinist into the street, was it a precognitive dream then ?.....an apparition formed only in my mind by God knows what processes ?.....I did not know, only that I had been saved.

There was a knock at the door and the fire chief came in, his eyes were full of pity for me " Sorry Sir, we weren't able to save much I'm afraid".
I mumbled something in return. " It looks as though the wiring may have been at fault Sir, started in the bedroom and spread very quickly through the rest of the house....some of your books may have survived Sir but little else, save for this, which we found in the bedroom and somehow it wasn't touched by the fire. "

He handed me a violin, unmarked, untouched.

[Hylie]

Very nice. I love the first ghost story, as does my GF. I don't think I saw the second one before though. Did you email it to me already?

Margar is always good for a bit of critique. You should check out the sherlock holmes novel thread dude. A very extensive story. xP

[lymelight]

It was a foul night, high winds and driving rain and all I wanted to do was to get home. I had been working late, reports to be made, e-mails to be sent and I had not realised how late it had got. After glancing at the clock in horror, I quickly tidied my desk and hurried down to the car park.

I settled myself into my driving position, switched on the engine and headed off into the rain and wind. I lived only a few miles out of town so fortunately it was not going to be a long drive. I had not long been in either the job or the area but I definitely felt I had made the right move and those kind of thoughts were crowding my mind as the lights of the town twinkled behind me as they were left in the distance.

Three miles further on I was driving down a particularly straight piece of road, concentrating hard as vision was impaired when I saw something on the side of the road, picked out by the headlights. I instinctively slowed down and peered into the gloom. the 'something' revealed itself to be a man, rather optimistically hitch-hiking.I had never had a rigid policy on picking up hitch-hikers, it all depended on my mood at the time. This evening in view of the awful weather I decided the prevailing mood would be one of benovelence.

I pulled over and opened the door.....it was a young guy who was, as you might expect, very wet indeed. He got in without a word and made himself comfortable, I turned up the heater a notch and drove on. I asked him where he was going and he mumbled something about the next village, which was only five miles away, the village next to mine in fact.

We drove on in silence, my attempts to engage him in conversation failing. After a few more minutes like that, he suddenly spoke :

" Sorry, forgetting my manners, thanks for picking me up".

"Thats okay" I replied " I would like to think that on a night like this anyone would stop".

" I hitch along here regularly" he said. "It can be very hard indeed".

I had not seen him before but if he hitched this time of night then it wasn't so surprising.

" Its mostly strangers that pick me up" he said " as opposed to locals I mean" .

It seemed odd to me that locals who could be expected to know him by sight did not stop for him, perhaps there was something odd about him, a bad lot maybe and here he was in my car.I asked the question.......

" The locals all know the tale you see and take no chances".

" What tale would this be then ? ".

" This stretch of road is haunted by a phantom hitch-hiker, I know its laughable but thats the problem I face when hitching along here ".

The weather was already unnerving me and I thought this was just an attempt by my passenger to spook me but he seemed very serious.

" Phantom hitch-hikers " I replied " are just an urban myth almost like folk-lore. What is this phantom of yours supposed to do, leap out in front of cars, shrieking and dragging chains ? " I said laughing.

" Not my phantom mate, but there have been unexplained accidents along here and some say this spectre of a hitch-hiker is to blame somehow. Its all rubbish anyway, I don't believe it any more than you do".

We were not far off his village now and I was just about to ask him where I should drop him off when the car hit a deep patch of lying water and even though I was not travelling all that quickly, it immediately went into a spin and as I fought to control it, the glare of headlights told me another car was approaching. I pulled on the wheel furiously trying to bring it back into a straight line but when I turned it one way, I was met with huge resistance. As I prepared myself for the certain impact, control came back to me and I was once again travelling in a straight line. I breathed a sigh of relief and idly wondered what my passenger would make of my driving skills. I opened my mouth to make my apologies and glanced at the seat beside me...

Which was empty.