Never Laugh

The Manor on the Hill

I should have realized something was wrong when the realtor didn't step foot in the house. The large manor had seen better days. The spindles on the front porch looked like a seven-year-old with missing teeth. Cute.

The first thing I noticed when Mary and I entered was how quiet it was. Not like shutting a window to block out the noise but more like the absence of sound. Like using earplugs in the forest.

Given the age of the house, I expected the stairs to creak, but I heard nothing. Mary headed towards the kitchen as I left to check out the second floor. When I turned right at the top of the stairs, I heard a whisper. I turned around, but no one was there. I said hello or tried to. I could open my mouth, yet not a sound came out.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, and my hands start to sweat when I heard it again.

"Never laugh when a hearse goes by for you shall be the next to die," the whisper said.

I looked all around again. Was this in my head? My wife and I had seen a hearse on the way here, but we didn't laugh. Well, Mary did but not at the hearse but at something I said.

"Mary," I tried to yell. Yet, not a sound escaped my lips.

Whispered laughter. "You fool."

I spun around again, nothing.

I flew down the stairs, rounded the banister, and saw her.

"Mary! Help!" I tried to scream as I reached her. Her lifeless eyes stared towards the ceiling, and I could see the blood pooling on the floor.

"Help." I tried to scream again.

"They will wrap you up in a bloody sheet, and bury you six feet deep," the whisper taunted.

I laid Mary gently to the floor and stood. I looked around but could only see moving fog through my tears.

The fog moved towards the front of the house, so I followed. When I neared the front door, I bolted to open the door and get outside.

Finding the door locked. I screamed, "What do you want?"

"All goes well for about a week until the casket begins to leak," the whisper taunted.

That's when I heard all the sounds. My walking up the stairs, Mary telling me she was going to the kitchen. My saying "Hello," and calling to Mary.

I could hear Mary's panicked voice calling me, pleading, "No, no, please," and finally, her scream as she died minutes earlier. The sounds just now coming to me.

"What! What do you want?" I screeched as I knotted my fists.

"Your soul" was the last thing I ever heard.

If anyone was alive in the house, they might have heard the Whisper singing,

"Never laugh when a hearse goes by,

For you shall be the next to die.

They will wrap you up in a bloody sheet,

And bury you six feet deep..."