I've been Challenged Once, Given Coffee Twice

Ink and His Ghost (Short Story Writing Competition)

Ink and His Ghost

The huge antique bronze chandelier hung from the high vaulted ceilings. Both, the elegant candelabra and the giant spider webs swayed with the breeze that the open door let in.

The door... It closed behind and I jolted to the loud thump... 'Must be the wind.' I thought.

The air in the manor was heavy to breathe, smelling like mold and dampness and the blankets that covered the antique furniture in the living area were not white anymore. Dust particles danced in the stillness of the dim rays of light that made it through the cracks of the oak lattice windowpanes.

The wooden steps of the wide arched stairs squeaked under my feet. My hand held with a tight grip to the fleur de lis iron carved veranda that railed up to the second floor of the abandoned old house. Old but not decayed. It still exhibited with pride the exquisiteness of baroque embellished style.

The paintings on the walls, painted so vivid and realist that the eyes of the people portrayed on the canvas seemed to follow me as I walked through the long hallway in the second floor. 'That's weird!' I was quite impressed with the optic illusion. It was frightening enough to make a cold shiver run through my spine.

A dozen doors closed to my right and left each one showed crucifixes with the dismal figure of Jesus Christ looking at my pitifully.

The last door to the right was the only one opened. I entered a dormitory with a canopy bed in the rear wall and a colossal fireplace already burning. The cracking of the flames was inviting though the shades drew on the walls were terrifying.

A thousand sinister figures mocked me and grinned mischievously, extending their bony fingers made of shadows to reach me. My heart hammered inside my chest wanting to escape out my mouth. Something in that place didn't feel right. The ambience felt heavy.

Darkness invaded the room as the sun went down on the horizon. Only the flickering blazes from the fireplace provided some light. In the distance: London. Too far away to hear me cry.

A cold gust made flutter the heavy draped lilac curtains and I shivered. Immediately I closed the French styled panes that raged with the wind. I felt relieved after that.

I admired the beauty of the gloomy space I was provided to complete the task: write a story for my eccentric friends. I had a week to do so. The only condition was to stay in this house... This manor that seemed to be taken out of the pits of hell. But the money worth it!

On the beautifully carved red oak with a marble top desk, an elegant stationary set and a fine bottle of wine were placed next to a basket filled with fruits and cheese. A delicatessen not requested but pleasurable enough to begin my writing.

A hundred noises were heard in the house. 'A rat, a bat... the wind.' I tried to convinced myself each time. I was never a coward.

Ideas flowed with the spilling ink. I moved the fountain pen on the fancy paper until Morpheus summoned me.

Sleep was hard to find. Nightmares plundered my sanity that night. I woke up with the giggling of children down the corridor. I left the room to see, but no one was there. Only dimness and nothing more.

Back in the dormitory, I looked my reflection on the mirror. The sensual transparency of my nightgown made me smile. The contour of the curvy lines of my body revealed through the soft touch of the silk and the lace made me proud.

"Ah!" I gasped after something stroke my shoulder.

I stepped back. The coldness of the touch made me tremble. A soft gust of wind made my hair flitter. There was a breathing. A loud and agitated breathing. The room spun around me as I stood frozen in the middle.

I scanned everywhere until it was me and my reflection in the mirror... Goose bumps raised all over my skin. I wasn't alone. My chest swayed as my heart beat erratically. Damn, I was scared!

A misty shape drew all of a sudden behind my reflection in the mirror. I cried a silent scream. A tall and slender figure was formed. I could see it! In the reflection... With me! In the mirror!

Instinctually, I turned swiftly to face what it was. It was a he, standing in front of me. I never felt that frightened in my entire life. He was looking at me, so close to me. Our stares locked. The stunning male figure was unreal but so tangible that I could smell the scent of oak and lavender that his body expelled. His thin white cotton shirt couldn't hide his muscular frame. He was gorgeous, but his eyes showed the ghastly emptiness of death... Death!

The terrific spell was finally broken. I reacted and stepped back... back, until I met the wooden frame of the bed. He advanced towards me. He was chasing me and I had nowhere to go.

I fell seated on the bedding and felt I would die that night. There was a ghost haunting me!

I crawled back on the bed terrorized. My back was against the wall and I screamed this time louder. The shrieks echoed in the emptiness of the manor.

'No one can hear you! You are stuck in this haunted manor so far from any human or living thing! No one will come to help you!' My own thoughts tortured me.

Suddenly everything became silent, like a graveyard. The ghost disappeared and looked everywhere terrified. I wanted to run, but where?

I screamed out my lungs when he appeared again. He was standing in front of me by the foot of the bed.

Silence enveloped the dormitory again. I could only hear the hammering of my heart and my own labored breathing.

He spoke and whispered my name, "Edmèe." So sweet and melodious in his deep voice that I could swear he was an angel. He chanted my name and I was dragged by his spell bounding presence.

He climbed up the bed. I stayed still while stroke my cheek. My body shook of commotion... Or fear?

"What are you?" I asked.

A tear rolled down my face.

"You know my beloved... I'm a ghost... One of the thousand spirits that haunt this manor. But I won't cause you any harm... like others would."
I could only stare at his face, so bright and ethereal. If he was to kill me, I would certainly put no resistance. I waited for the blow, yet his fingers played with my hair and I was subdued by his enchantments.

"What's your name?" I caressed his perfect and angular face.

"My name is Johnathan." He smiled, a faint smile. But his eyes were dark and bottomless pits that reflected the abyss of the Purgatory.

Johnathan sat next to me and told me the story of his life... and his death. We conversed for hours until I fell asleep on his lap.

The sun rays made their way through the windows. The brightness in the room marked the end of the first night in that house.

I woke up in the middle of the bed. There was a white cotton shirt next to me...

I opened the windows. A warm breeze caressed my face and the scent of oak and lavender filled the room.

There was a male laughter.

'Johnathan?' No one replied.

Would he come back tonight? Would some others spirits come tonight?

I sat on the desk and wrote... And waited.

***This is another vignette. An entry for the Short Story Writing Competition hosted by the wonderful Nyhterides.

Genre: Horror with a hint of romance.

It's theme was ink and the prompt is a writer that should stay in a haunted house for a week to write a story.

I hope you like it. Let me know what do you think.