31 Ghosts – Who’s There?

We’ve had quite a few short stories lately, and tonight’s will be short as well – we have a our big Birthaversary party tonight. Stories should start getting longer after tonight, though. Hopefully it makes up for its brevity with some spookiness.

Ian had a suspicion his house was haunted, but the pragmatic side of him chalked the weird noises and cold spots on the age of the house – foundation settling, pipes creaking, floors shifting. When his Ring doorbell camera started alerting him around midnight every night, he started to wonder whether it was just the inside of his house that was haunted.

He studied the Ring footage the first few nights, certain he could see a dark shadow where someone would have stood. After the fourth night his annoyance outweighed his reticence, and he swung the door wide as soon as the alert went off only to find his front stoop empty. He stepped out and looked around, hoping to find some teenagers engaged in some long-running prank.

No one was there.

Same thing the following night: doorstep empty, street empty.

By the sixth night he was genuinely agitated. Empty porch. Quiet street.

The seventh day he’d had enough and was ready to yell at the empty space as soon as his Ring notification on his phone went off.

But just when he expected the alert, three heavy knocks came at the door instead.

His irritation evaporated into fear as he knew there had to be someone on the other side of the door this time. He cautiously opened the door to reveal a tall, clean-shaven older man in a black three piece suit.

Ian opened his mouth to ask who this man was, but the man spoke first.

“Why haven’t you answered my knocking before tonight?”

Ian paused, surprised by the question. “This was the first time I heard your knocking,” he started to say.

But the man looked over his Ian’s shoulder, eyes widening as he took a step back on the porch. “It’s too late,” he said, stepping backwards again. “She’s already inside…”

Ian felt an icy breath on the back of his neck as the doorknob slipped out of his hand as the front door slammed shut.

31 Ghosts – Helpful. Genuinely Helpful

Reading last night’s story isn’t exactly essential, but it’s short and it’s exactly where we’re starting tonight. Not a part 2.. more like what happened next.

As she reached for the doorknob, the deadbolt clicked in place. She tried the lock, but it wouldn’t budge.

The lights turned off all at once.

In the darkness, Julie held her breath. The kitchen light flickered on unnaturally. She watched as the magnetic poetry words moved on their own, the cloud of words spreading into a frame around a single sentence.

“You won’t leave again.”

The lights went dark again.

And then the lights came up again. Standing in front of the refrigerator, blocking the ominous words stood a short, stocky, middle-aged man with a halo of graying hair around a bald pate and matching bushy gray mustache. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, holding up his hands palms out. “Let’s dial it back about a thousand notches, there, Carl.”

The door to Julie’s bedroom slammed shut.

“Jesus, Carl, settle down already!” He yelled towards the door. “Ma’am, I’m really sorry for my friend, here…”

“Who… who are you?” Julie managed to say.

“What? Oh, I’m Joe, ma’am. I’m the super.” At that point the cabinet doors started opening and closing wildly. “Carl!” Joe bellowed. “If I have to come over there…”

The cabinets continued opening and closing chaotically.

“That’s it, Carl…” Then, to Julie, “Pardon me, ma’am…” And he disappeared.

A moment later, the cabinets stopped moving, some still open, some closed. Julie stood rooted to the spot, her breath coming in fearful gasps as she stared into her kitchen. “What. The. He—”

“I’m sorry about that, ma’am,” Joe’s voice came from behind her and she literally jumped and spun to face the short balding ghost. “Oh, geez! Sorry again! I didn’t mean to scare you, especially after Carl…”

“Carl? I don’t understand…”

“Yeah, I can understand that, ma’am. You’re new here, right?”

Julie nodded slowly. “About two months.”

“Uh huh,” Joe said. “Carl’s pretty new, too. He’s only been dead about six months. He’s still holding on to his issues from when he was alive.”

“W-what issues did he have when he was alive?”

“Umm…” Joe furrowed his brow and bit his lip. “…Let’s just say he had an unhealthy relationship that ended poorly… for both of them.”

“Oh my God…” Julie said, now terrified of a homicidal ghost.

“No, no, no!” Joe said quickly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about ma’am.”

“Julie.”

“Sorry?”

“My name is Julie.”

“Oh, yeah, okay. Ma’am, err, Julie. You don’t have anything to worry about. I just had a… talk with Carl,” he winked conspiratorially. “He’s not allowed here anymore. He’s now going to be stuck in the empty apartment 3B right above you – you might hear some footsteps up there, but that’s all. He can’t come down here. You’re safe.”

“How… Who are you?”

“I’m Joe, the super, ma’am—uh, Julie.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “I met the super. Tony. He’s very much alive and… everything…” she gestured to Joe’s translucent body.

“Oh, right, yeah, that’s understandable. Tony is the super these days. Great kid… I knew his parents – they lived up in 5D, wow, must have been thirty years ago. Before Tony, you understand. Now that I think about it, it’s funny he works at the building his parents lived in before he was born. Huh. Strange world, right?”

“Tony is the super…” Julie repeated.

“Oh, that’s right,” Joe smacked his head. “I get sidetracked these days. You’re right, Tony is the super for the living. I was the super for thirty years before I died – fixing the boiler downstairs, I might add. Since then I’ve stayed on as kind of a super for the supernatural.” He laughed, “Ha! I just thought of that! Super of the supernatural. I should get that on a business card…”

“What does that mean?” Julie asked.

“It means that when some young ghost like Carl goes messing with the living, I have to straighten him out. You see, this building is over a hundred years old. There’s been a lot of life here. And some death (ask me about that damn boiler sometime). Someone needs to make sure that the ghosts here behave.”

Julie sat down on her couch, only then remembering she was still in her bathrobe. “This is a lot to take in…”

“I know, I know. Take your time… You seem like a really good tenant. I’d hate for you to go. Tell you what, Burt haunts 2C next door. He was a doorman for a place up on East 57th Street for years. I’ll have him check your door and your windows – the things that Carl did that were helpful. But he won’t come in. Won’t make a sound – he was a great doorman.”

“Oh… Okay.” Julie nodded.

“Thank you, ma’am—Julie. I’ll be on my way then.” As he reached the front door he stopped and added, “Oh, if you need anything – even stuff Tony can fix – just write it down and leave it on the table. I’ll make sure it gets taken care of.”

“Thanks…” Julie said.

“Oh course. Have a good evening,” Joe said as he turned and walked through the door.

Julie sat in her quiet apartment, alone – truly alone. Suddenly she really appreciated the quietude.

31 Ghosts – Helpful

Going short tonight. And creepy.

The ghostly activity initially scared Julie. Her first space on her own, the quietude of the first few nights sent her mind to distraction: did I lock the front door? Did I close the window? Did I turn off the lights in the living room? Quickly, though, she realized the front door would always be locked, an open window would be closed and locked when she returned to the room, and lights began going dark as she walked across the space.

She smiled and shrugged recounting the activities to her friends over drinks at Emily’s bachelorette party in Vegas. “My ghost is looking out for me,” she said. Thinking about the hotel room she would return to at the end of the night, she added, “It feels comforting.”

Two days later she walked into her apartment with a broad smile on her face. The air in the apartment felt tense, charged. She passed it off as jet lag and dropped her bags on the floor and started the shower. She stepped into the steamy bathroom and noticed something written on the steamed-up mirror. It read: “You shouldn’t have left.”

Her heartbeat sped up at the implied threat. She ran from the bathroom in her robe, grabbed her keys and moved for the door – whatever had changed, she would deal with it in daylight.

As she reached for the doorknob, the deadbolt clicked in plac

The lights turned off all at once.

In the darkness, Julie held her breath. The kitchen light flickered on unnaturally. She watched as the magnetic poetry words moved on their own, the cloud of words spreading into a frame around a single sentence.

“You won’t leave again.”

The lights went dark again.