THE BLUE HOUSE ON THE HILL (Complete ✅)

CHAPTER 1 (I HAVE A GUN AND I AM NOT AFRAID TO USE IT)

The building sat on top of the hill. Its hideous color was an eyesore amongst the beautiful hedges and flowers that marked the gravel sidewalk to the house. The horrid pink paints of the windows could be seen from where the new house help stood. A sign to his right said, PRIVATE PROPERTY KEEP OUT. THE OWNER HAS A GUN AND IS NOT AFRAID TO USE IT. The white fence surrounding the house looked freshly painted and was low enough to see several species of flowers scattered around the compound. It left only a narrow clear path to the porch.

New Thitipoom had heard stories of the old man isolated on the hill. Some said he had killed a couple of kids and buried their remains in the cemetery at the bottom of the hill. Others said he was as pale as a ghost because he never stepped out of his house. There were tales of him shooting and screaming at trespassers. The most bizarre of them was that, all three of his previous wives died from mysterious causes.

These stories should frighten New into avoiding the house but when he saw the 'house help wanted' ad on a board at the bus stop with a salary that he could only dream about and free accommodation, he immediately called the number.

It was a short interview.

"Can you clean, cook, and be quiet?" The male voice had asked.

"Yes, sir."

"You're hired. See you tomorrow at 4 pm. Crescent hill house no. 225." He said and let the dial tone assault New's ears.

His best friend was not excited about the news.

"That's the house on the hill, Newwiee!" Kay said, horrified.

"The salary is $2000 a week with free accommodation. I'm tired of crashing on your couch. I've been unemployed for two months now. We can't eat ramen for breakfast, lunch, and supper for the rest of our lives."

"It's not going to be for the rest of our lives, we're just in a crunch right now. I'm sorry New, I'd rather have you starving and sleeping on my couch than dead and buried in the backyard of a creepy old man."

New pulled out the suitcase he brought with him to Kay's tiny apartment and started tossing his clothes inside. "We don't even know if he's that creepy. So what, maybe he killed a few kids and shot at a few people. Did you stop to think if maybe the kids—I dunno—shot at him first?"

Kay groaned, "Do you hear yourself?"

"You'll be singing a different tune when I send you 500 a week." He dropped to his knees to look for his socks under the couch.

"Really? You'd do—No no, you can't bribe me with money."

"Yes, I can."

"Damn it! I'm so cheap."

"Gotcha!" He found the stray socks and came up with them. "We're both cheap, my friend. I'm only braver than you are. I'm doing this for us." The socks went into the luggage and Kay helped him to zip it up.

"Please don't die." His best friend pleaded.

New was already walking out the door. "I'll try my best."

"At least hold on for a week and send me my 500 before you die!" Kay yelled after him.

"Cheap, a coward, and shameless!"

Now, here he was in front of the dreaded house.

"Hello?" He called out. There was no reply. A bee buzzed in the distance. New ignored the sign on the fence. He breached the barrier. He walked on the qui vive towards the house. The pollens in the air tickled his nose. He held in a sneeze. The floorboards creaked as he climbed to the porch. A swing big enough for two adults swayed with the breeze. Perhaps the rumors about the wives were true.