The Ghost's Harp

Chapter III

"Ghosts?!" I said by the sudden mad thought. Instantly my fears of the previous hour faded away and was replaced with utter annoyance. Sounds like I was talking to Daniel again.

"Oh come now. Do you expect me to believe that this house is under some supernatural influence?" I asked the clerk.

He only merely nodded as if he had actually expected me to believe what he was saying.

"I should know, guv. I was near close to becoming one of the ghosts who 'aunt this 'ere house. You see, guv, I don't just own this hotel, I own the actual house. This was my family home" he explains to me and takes another drag off his cigarette.

"And what happened over 40 years ago is a gruesome tale" he said looking at me again as he blew smoke away from my direction.

He must've saw my utter disbelief at such a preposterous story; that he continued on with his story.

"You see over 40 years ago; me family was living here. We were a new family from England and we wanted to make our mark in America. But we brought with us our Nana. She was a product from the old world to be sure. She was very talented in music but as she grew older she stopped playing. She was very religious and probably very mentally unstable. Would always go on rampant rages about how we'll all go to Hell someday.

Wouldn't take her medication and wouldn't listen to her doctors. Claimed they were a bunch of twats. Well me mum, dad, my sisters and brother and I had to deal with her for all the years we lived here. Then; one night, Nana had been drinking. I was about maybe 10 or 11 and I was at my friends house at a sleepover. So I, thank ye god, I was spared.

Now Nana wasn't allowed to drink, especially while not being on her medication; so my guess the alcohol drove her poor old mind off her rocker. Some of the neighbors however believe she was possessed by the devil himself. She grabbed an axe from the shed outside; and to the top of her wrinkled lungs, she kept screaming she'd save us from damnation. And one by one, she killed my dad and ma in their beds, slicing in their heads, be-headed my brother, and buried the axe deep in my two sisters chests."

As I listened to this gruesome tale; I felt a shudder of gross-out emotions run down my back. How awful..but the clerk continued on.

"After that; the heat of the moment cooled down and already people were calling the police by this point from the screams they heard not only from her but from the blood curdling screams from her victims. She realized what she had done. Still all bloodied up from the killings; she overdosed on some sleeping pills me mum had; to help sleep a night, you see. As she waited for the pills to kick in; she went into the music room where we had brought all her instruments she used to play all the time in her younger years.

She sat down in front of one of the instruments she loved to play the most. A harp. A grand harp made of gold that was an antique from her family for generations. And with her bony fingers, Nana began to play a mournful melody, or lullaby if you wanna call it, as she let the drugs do their work. When the police arrived; they could hear harp music playing in the room upstairs. But it had stopped by the time they had broke down the door.

There lay me poor old Nana; dead in sleep, on the ground in front of her harp, her finger stuck on the lowest cord, cops say, and with a fall of her hand, made a low musical note that echoed through the house.

I was in the orphanage for a long time after that. But luckily when I was 18, I was given this house by a family lawyer. So I then turned this house into a motel. It was a nice quiet place and seemed a good idea. But.." and here, the clerk took a break from telling me this god awful story and took another drag from his cigarette and coughed a little. Making a cloud of smoke form from his nostrils and I had to fan away the cloud.

"Mm. Sorry guv. Any-who. Not long after I had made this place into a motel; people wouldn't stay long. They kept telling me strange things were happening while they slept. They'd hear strange noises, and see even stranger things. Things that no human should ever see. Soon it got so bad that I'd only get maybe 1-2 guests a week. Now I rarely get anyone. So I had to take up a second job while I pay the mortgage off. That or until I die..as for the ghosts. I know for sure it's the ghosts of me family and old Nana herself. Scaring away all my customers. Why?..I don't rightly know. To keep the house only to the family? Probably..but either way that's why I have it so cheap, to at least get one customer."

At finishing this ghost story; he put out his cigarette in the ashtray next to him. I looked at him with wonder, yet still as skeptical as ever.

"Sir" I said. "While I admire your creativity in telling such far fetched tales; I will have you know I am a man of science and do not, therefore, believe in such ghostly nonsense. Haunted tourism is not my taste and I do intend on making it through the night. And if I were to leave early, I'll pay 80 bucks for the room."

A smile gleamed over the face of the clerk and he nodded.

"Alright guv. I'll take your bet. And when you do leave early, just leave the 80 on this desk here with your room key. Now please sign up and let me show you to your room" he said with a smile, as if he knew I'd lose this little bet.

Well I wrote my name down in the book, and he led me up the stairs to the second floor. The condition I must say was far worse in terms of cleanliness on the second floor than it was on the first floor.

The wallpaper was seriously missing large patches and exposing much of the bare wall. The candles up here in the halls were dimly lit, so that I felt like I was walking through the Haunted Mansion back in Disneyland California like I had done when I was younger. Cobwebs were draped everywhere and the air was a bit chilly and the plants that decorated the hall had all withered away and died.

And while I didn't believe this clerk's story of ghosts. I did however feel bad for him. He's been here all alone working so hard to pay for this house, only to have business so bad he's relying on actually dying to be rid of it all..

Well he finally led me to a room and I looked inside once he had unlocked the door with the key to the room. The room was well furnished enough with a large bed, a Victorian style bed, the ones where they have curtains at each side. There was one window overlooking the large forest behind the house. The curtains were tattered from years of long negligence. There was a chair in the corner and a small fireplace for keeping warm. But I did notice on the wooden floor there were spots of dust that didn't touch. As if there had been things around the room that are now gone.

"This used to be the music room where me Nana would play her instruments" the clerk behind me said with a chuckle, placing my room key on the nightstand next to my bed.

I halted as I was about to put my bag on the bed. I looked back at the clerk with a glare of annoyance. I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to scare me. I merely scoffed and tipped him a five dollar bill.

"Nice try, but I'm not so easily scared to be creeped by that" I had said, once he took the bill generously.

"Suit yourself. Dont say I didn't warn you. I'll See you tomorrow morning..or rather, I'll see the 80 dollars tomorrow" he said with a ghoulish chuckle. And with that, he bade me Goodnight, and closed the door.

Like he said. He did warn me. All of this attempting to scare me was to warn me. And looking back on it now, I really wish I had listened to this strange clerk of the Dreamy Inn...