Enter the house at your own risk, the woman said to the ghost hunters, tossing them the keys and walking away. She didn't even stick around to see if they went into the house, or to warn them as to why their would be a risk in entering this place. The four individuals, all friends since high school who entered into this profession not because they authentically believed in the powers of the supernatural world but because they believed there was money to be made duping people desperate to believe in something on this planet after life had ended, didn't even think about stepping across the threshold. Theresa Lancaster, perhaps the only person who was open to the possibility of the supernatural existing, was the only woman to graduate from her private university in the South with her Master's in History. Andrea Sampson, her blonde Barbie-lookalike best friend, barely got out of the university with a passing GPA in her Bachelor's degree in communications. That left the brothers, Rick and Joe Branson. One red-headed, one with brown hair, both with the same deep brown eyes, both on the football team-- lucky to be there because their heads were completely empty of anything resembling an IQ, kept in college with barely passing grades in Business and Film Making respectively because they threw the pigskin nicely and brought people to the university to pay to see them play.
Besides Theresa, the group could be called a collection of ineptitude. Still, no one questioned Rick and Joe when they picked this vacant house that was for sale, but which the realtor would not lead tours to or offer open houses on. Promising to get the ghosts out and fix the place, she begrudgingly agreed to let them in.
"You boys check out the library," Theresa says, turning in a circle with one of the electronic devices that's supposed to measure frequencies. "We'll check out the study. Those seem to be the
epicenters of the activity." She usually does not step into the leadership role, but there is a buzz in the air, like static electricity dancing on the skin, which makes her want to get this over with as soon as possible. In and out, and then she can relax.
The two men snicker about this place being "sick" and how many ratings they'll get for this episode. It was as if the house was designed with a ghost-hunting show in mind. It might as well have been a movie set.
Theresa leads Andrea into the study that is connected to the library, but separated by a door. The minute they step inside, the door
slams shut behind them, the door to the library doing the same in front of them. Theresa drops the devices, racing towards the door and pounding her fists against it. "Rick, Joe, can you hear me!?!" she screams out.
All she hears is screaming on the other side, as she feels her anxiety climb and pure fear shoot through her. "We've got to get out of here!" she screams back at Andrea, who has her hands pressed to her ears, tears streaming down her face. They race back to the door. It swings open, and Theresa shoots out of the room, but the moment she steps outside, the door slams shut behind her, locking Andrea in. More fear than Theresa has ever felt amplifies in her, driving
her to her knees as she screams, rocking back and forth on the ground.
Then, suddenly, the door swings back open, and Theresa races back inside, heart hammering in her chest. Once again, the door slams shut behind her, but her head clears. "It's... It's on a timer!" she sputters, realizing the perfect timing. "One person can get through at a time, but not more than that. The minute we step out, there's pheromones or something that amps up our fear, makes us go back inside."
"Then how do we get out?!?" Andrea screams, still terrified as her fear remains.
Theresa doesn't answer her, because the answer is too horrific to consider.
Somewhere, in another part of the house, a bedraggled teenage boy with long stringy black hair presses the controls as the realtor, his sister, steps inside. "Charles, I think that's enough. You've made your point. When will you let them out? The other ones died. We can't really afford that publicity this time."
"Never," he mumbles, hitting the controls and swinging the door open to the library, watching Rick abandon his brother and promptly break down. "Never," he repeats.
They're never getting out.
YOU ARE READING
Utterly Ghastly
FantasyA house where you'll never escape alive. A lake where you'll be dragged down into the depths. A ghost on a murder spree. In this collection of short dark fantasy and horror short stories, you'll see it all. Updates every Thursday.
