The Demon In My Home – Part 1

*Tape recorder starts*

“OK, so you might not believe me when you hear this from beginning to end, but listen to me when I tell you. This… this house is haunted. It’s haunted as f**k, and if you’re still here standing listening to this, please get the f**k out before sundown. Before it is too late, and… and… it takes what matters most to you.”

**Loud bangs and sounds of wood dragging on the floor proceed for a few seconds, then the tape clicks to an end**

2 Months Ago

“Jack, go help me with the last few boxes to move in, we can’t afford another hour with these movers,” my mother screams from inside. I take a final pull of my menthol cigarette and walk the four small steps down into the front yard. I turn to take a quick glance at the bushes near the forest to my left and notice a small marble cross has been hammered into the middle of the tree.

“That’s odd,” I whisper to myself. Of my twenty two years living in New York City with a not so religious family, I knew I’d immediately hate living in the middle of nowhere in South Carolina. Where everyone you meet is a super religious redneck waving the confederate flag or simply a nutcase waving a shotgun. I walked down the small gravel path that led to the gated entry of the old house and noticed that the two southern movers had neatly piled up the boxes around the entryway. In fact, they were already closing the back of the red rusty truck and rushing toward the front doors.

“Hold on guys, is this everything?” I asked.

“Damn right it is feller, good luck moving in there, I ain’ tryna spend another minute around this cursed here land,” responded the mover with the trucker cap.

“What do you mean cursed? What’s the rush? The f**k is going on?” I asked with a hint of desperation. I knew I had gotten some chills the minute my mother pulled up along the driveway, but I couldn’t explain why exactly. I tossed my Newport near the truck tires and stepped on it to make sure it was turned off.

“Google this here address, boy. That’s all I’m gonna say,” the other mover responded as he slammed the passenger’s door shut. The truck left a cloud of dust behind as it sped along the rest of the driveway and took the first right turn, as to avoid the dense forest on the left. I shook my head in frustration as I bent over to pick up the few small boxes with both of my hands. I walked along the gravel path back into the ominous looking house and tried to make sense of what the movers were so afraid to speak of. At a glance, the house did look odd, as if it could be used as one of those spooky horror film settings. But it was an old house; obviously it wouldn’t be the prettiest thing to look at.

As I was approaching the first step, I heard something that sounded like a pounding on the second floor window. I looked up, although knowing I wouldn’t really see much due to the front patio covering most of the view of where I was standing. I decided to ignore it and wobbled my way into the narrow door step and slammed the last of the moving boxes near the welcome rug.

“Mom, I’ve got it. Do you have my laptop? My phone has some bad reception here,” I yelled from the bottom of the steps that lead to the second floor. I noticed some movements from my peripheral vision on the top right of the steps and decided to turn towards it. I noticed a shadowy figure on the wall walking away. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, as if death herself had given me a kiss on my spine.

“It’s in the living room go and get it, I’m cooking,” my mother yelled from the kitchen at the back of the house. I took a deep breath and swallowed the last bit of saliva inside my mouth. It felt as if my throat has been clogged with a ton of dry cotton because the saliva had some trouble going down. I walked to the living room and saw the laptop neatly lying on the top of the coffee desk. I grabbed it and the charger and bolted towards the backyard to call for my golden retriever, there was no way I was going into my room alone with whatever the f**k I just saw.

“Bucky, come here boy,” I called and from the bushes came my giant lion like retriever with a twig in his mouth. We both raced up the steps and took the right towards the second door. I only stood calm because Bucky had gone in first. I locked my door after we entered and looked around. It was a decent sized room, enough space to party and get high with a couple of friends, if I had any. I just moved in from New York and knew not a single soul around. That’s what really bummed me out since coming down here.

I plugged my charger in beside my bed and laid down flat on my stomach. Bucky yawned and sat dead center of the room. It was odd to me because he usually lay beside me but at the moment I did not care. I was ready to research the history of this house and why the movers were scared shitless. I pressed the power button down with some force because I was anxious to see what I’d find. The Microsoft screen popped up and I typed in my password. It took me to my homescreen and I tapped the f**k out of the Google Chrome icon on the touch screen. I typed in the address of my new home and boom.

My gut felt like I had swallowed a brick and my mouth was dryer than before. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I couldn’t even believe my mother had me buy a home without doing some research. I was about to click on the first link but Bucky began to bark at the window. I get up and slowly walk towards it. As I reached the window now, Bucky begins to cry. I stare outside and was immediately frozen with fear. I see two figures right beside the outside of the gate. One seems to be a shadowy figure with horns and the other was a tall pale woman with no visible feet. Her cheeks were sucked all the way in, as if she were a model in distress. Her eyes were missing but I can tell she was staring directly at me. She points towards my window and the shadowy figure seemed to fly towards me. I drop instantly to the floor and cover my face and yell in complete fear. I hear loud footsteps rushing up the steps and I pray that my mother is coming to check in on me, so whatever the f**k it was that flew towards me can be seen by someone else besides me. Or that at the very least I was imagining the s**t so I won’t have to deal with the insane reality that what I saw was real.

“What is going on Jack? What was all that noise?” my mom asks me.

“I don’t know… I was… I was playing with Buck and he dropped me… That’s what happened” I respond, stuttering like hell. I didn’t even care if she believed me at this point. As long as I was safe, you know.

“Well… Enough games, you know you’re too old for that. Besides, this house is old too; you don’t wanna mess up the floor boards. And why are you so pale? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost,” my mom says. I can see the worry in her eyes and I begin to feel a bit sorry for her. She has no clue what the movers said about the house or what the hell the titles of the newspapers were when mentioning this house.

“I’m fine mom, trust me. I won’t bother Bucky anymore, he plays too rough anyways,” I lie to her. I take a quick glance towards the window and notice the once faded white window sill outside now has a couple of black scratch marks on the left and right sides.

“OK son, next time don’t yell so loud. And come downstairs, I made our first dinner for our first night in this house. I think you’ll love it,” she says as she exits the doorway happily. I can hear her footsteps going downstairs and I can’t help but wonder how the f**k does she not feel the ominous feelings from the minute we unpacked. I noticed it throughout our stays at Motel 6 when we began to slowly unpack our things down here and slept at the motel for a couple of days. Leaving the house always felt like a huge weight was lifted off my back, I question if she has ever felt the same way. I shrug it off and smile at the thought of my first home cooked meal in a long time. For the past couple of days I’ve been eating nothing but fast food, chicken and waffles, and the occasional Chinese delivery.

I make my way down and I realize my mom has done an excellent job in making the dinner table look spectacular. The dimly lit kitchen looks a bit less haunted than the rest of the house thanks to my mother’s great taste in decoration.

“So how do you like it so far?” she asks me. For a minute I thought I should be brutally honest and tell her I completely hate this slaughter house, but I just simply mumble, “It’s great as long as you like it mom.”
She sets my plate in front of me and we both begin to self serve some home cooked fried chicken with a side of mashed potatoes mixed with bacon and a bit of handmade spaghetti and meatballs. Not the best thing when a white family makes cultured meals, but at least my mother tried. It reminded me more of the beautiful city I grew up in and I can feel the home sickness kicking in again.

We begin to sit down and get our forks ready until the most unexplained thing ever goes down. My mother’s eyes rolled behind her head and she slowly turned pale. The fork in her hand begins to scratch the table as she ferociously swings it side to side. I panic a bit inside and think about what to do. I yell for Bucky but I then hear my door upstairs slam and I instantly begin to run for the back door. The s**t closes right as I’m about to bolt outside and so I sit at the corner of the door in a fetal position. My heart racing above 120 beats per minute and my mind begins to think one million thoughts. I need to get the f**k out. But how do I escape an entity?

I should have listened to the title of the article I was about to click. It said, “Leave the house before sundown, or you will…” and I never got to finish it. The title was too long and all the crazy s**t occurred before I can tap the link. Other links talked about multiple murders, suicides, etc. I look outside the small window frames from the back door and notice there is still some sun left, but it definitely is becoming dark. I dash to the living room and get my tape recorder that was still inside my box full of my belongings. If I was going to die, I at least wanted something left behind.

I can hear my mom gurgling in the kitchen and I reach for my gun in the box. I sure do feel safer with this .22 in my hand. Something living in the city has taught me. My mother’s pale body was crawling on the floor towards me and her eyes have become all white, her pupils looked like crystals right inside her eyelids. I yell like I’ve never yelled before as her neck begins to slowly twist and I push my mother out of primal survival instinct.
“You will NEVER leave this place you trespasser!” my mother’s carcass said, and she laughed what sounded like the mixture of a witch and a demon put together. I raise my tape recorder and hit the record button.

“OK, so you might not believe me when you hear this from beginning to end, but listen to me when I tell you. This… this house is haunted. It’s haunted as f**k, and if you’re still here standing listening to this, please get the f**k out before sundown. Before it is too late, and… and… it takes what matters most to you.”

At this point, out of impulse, I lifted my .22 caliber pistol and emptied three rounds to the head that once belonged to my mother. She twitched on the floor as two shadows had exited her body. They darted behind me as I continued to look at her lifeless body cringe into an abnormal shape. Blood splattered all over my shorts and shirt. I was frozen in shock. Not even the spirits scared me anymore; I was completely frozen in time. The shadows began to push chairs in the kitchen and slam drawers out of what seemed like anger. Maybe they couldn’t touch me. Maybe they fed off of fear and realized I was no longer scared. Whatever reason they have for not being able to harm me anymore, I do not care. All I know is that I walked upstairs to get Bucky, and exited through the front door in complete silence.

It was past midnight outside, and I hopped in my car. I made sure Buck had his seatbelt on and drove straight to Motel 6 a couple of minutes off the highway. My mind was completely empty. The clerk didn’t even bother to ask about my clothes. I showered, logged into my rooms wifi, and immediately put the house on sale on Craigslist. I slept the night away and made sure to wake up early, I had a lot of work to do in the morning.

To be continued…

  • Puddin Tane

    Needs some editing. The story is too abrupt. You need to give a back story on it. Also, answer the question, how does he explain his mother’s death?

  • Bri

    Its good so far I like it but could add a little more detail about the demons please