Short Horror Stories

Hidden ritual

In truth I've always known that the house I live in is haunted.

The soft sounds of soft footsteps when you're home alone, the whispers when the house is empty...

You know all the signs.

All have been told before already after all.

We were just lucky that it never got worse than that, yes sometimes small objects would have been placed elsewhere, but we never got the feeling that we were dealing with something that was dangerous or angry.

So we just let it be, whatever it was.

Then one day, one of the kids was playing in the room with a tennis ball, I told them not to, but they did so anyway.

The ball bounced around the room, first hitting the floor, then the walls, then the ceiling and then it went into the hallway.

Full force it smashed itself through one of the walls.

I scolded my child, because we heard something break and then we quickly went to assess the damage.

And there it was, a hole as big as the ball itself showed a dark space behind the wall under the stairs.

"What's behind this?" My child asked me and even though I was angry I found myself to be curious about it as well.

I went to get a flashlight and shined it inside.

Something had been painted, or maybe written, but all was unreadable.

I didn't remember any room with such writing in it, for all I knew there shouldn't even be a room behind this wall.

After the whole family had gathered under the stairs, I decided to take out a hammer and see what could possibly be behind it.

BANG!

BANG!!

BANG!!!

The hole was now big enough to see through.

I took out the flashlight again and shone its light inside to reveal...

A person.

A person, as pale as a ghost, unmoving, perhaps even unbreathing.

A person lying in a coffin without a lid.

A person dressed strangely old fashioned.

"Don't look children." My wife tried to have our kids close their eyes.

We immediately took to the phone and called the police.

The entire wall was getting broken down now and shortly after they told me that the person in the coffin was in fact deceased. From the look of it, it hadn't been very long ago either.

All of us got questioned, but of course none of us knew.

That wall had been sealed off far before we started living here and none of us knew of any other way in.

The same day we were allowed to leave the station and stay with the neighbors, a nice elderly couple.

Even before these events my children have seen them as their grandparents, it wouldn't be possible for them to have committed such a heinous crime in our home.

I did tell them about what happened, but they seemed just as surprised as we had been when we found it.

The next day I decided to check up on how it was going, only to not find a single police officer there anymore.

"What's going on here?" I asked the people inside my house, to which they replied that they were archeologists sent by the police to investigate.

The strange story they told me was something about the fact that the corpse had actually been there much, much longer than we had initially thought.

The body had been lying there for centuries, the archeologists suspected that the walls might have been sealed shut in a way to make it air-tight. That way no bacteria would have been able to grow nor live there, making it impossible for the body to decompose.

It didn't take long until we were allowed to go back again, we weren't sure if that was something to be happy about, but we still did so anyway.

The first night we went back, none of us were able to sleep, so we let the kids sleep with us in our bed. Luckily all of them are still rather young, so it all just fitted.

When I finally fell asleep I had the strangest dream, I was sitting in my room, but unlike how it was, it was completely empty.

There was a knock on the door I was facing.

"Come in." I answered and silently the door opened to show a figure behind it, somehow the person looked familiar, but I couldn't seem to remember them.

The next night I dreamed that I was looking at a ceiling that had been chalked up with the strange writing I had seen in the space under the stairs before.

Not much else happened in that dream, but it felt strangely eerie.

Then on the third night I dreamed that I was walking in the hallway, someone was behind me, a woman that somehow resembled my wife.

She held a knife.

At the moment I turned around, the weapon was already stuck in my chest.

Glistering red victoriously.

The day afterwards I decided to talk to some of the archeologists and asked if they knew anything about the writing was on the walls.

I was told that their translator had found out that it somewhat looked like a ritual of some sort.

It might even have been a ritual of resurrection.

As you might believe I had too many questions to ask and very few answers to it, since all of it was still being investigated.

I decided to talk about it with my wife and as I did she suddenly said something strange:

"He really looks like you, doesn't he?"

"Who do you mean?"

"The man in the coffin."