Halloween haunting, a story by greg,(reader's discretion is strongly advice)+15
Episode 3
" A witch?” Westman laughed. York looked at him
with a serious face. “There‟s a lot you don‟t
know about Hilliard,” he said. York knocked
again, but no one ever came to answer it.
“Follow me.” York led the way around to the
backyard, walking in the grass between the
house and the cornfield. The gravel driveway
stretched around the other side of the house and
into the back where there was room for more
than one car to park. The lot was empty. Just
beyond the gravel parking area was an old barn,
gray and brown in color. The shutters on the
front and sides were old and barely hanging on.
The front door to the barn was opened, and
inside the barn sat in darkness. The officers
walked up to the barns‟ entrance and York
noticed a silky spider web stretching across the
entire doorframe. The web was huge, but there
wasn‟t a spider to be seen. The loud squawk of
a bird fluttering overhead startled the officers
and instinct told them to duck. York looked up
and watched as a black raven perch itself on the
top of the barn and tilt its‟ head to look down at
them. The raven squawked again as it sat there,
watching them....
"That‟s a big bird,” Westman said. York nodded.
“Indeed.” His nerves started to get the best of
him. “Let‟s go back up front and wait on the
backup.” York led the way back along the side of
the house. ~ Holly and Kevin were walking
through the pumpkin patch at Kuhlwein‟s. There
were a few other people scattered around in the
fields, but most everyone else in Hilliard had
already picked their pumpkins. Halloween might
have been considered a little too late to be
picking out a pumpkin to carve. “What about this
one?” Holly said, picking up a short and plump
one. Kevin looked it over with hesitation. “Maybe
we‟ll get something a little taller. We‟ll have
more options for carving.” As Holly set the
pumpkin back down in the dirt, a chilly wind
picked up and blew in from the west. Holly
shielded her eyes from any flying dirt debris. She
looked around at the few other people in the
patch. She looked passed the fields to the tree
line in the distance and watched the trees,
vacant of their leaves, sway in the wind......
Something seemed off to her. This Halloween
felt different. It felt...menacing. The cold wind
howled past her ears and she covered them with
her gloved hands and squinted to avoid it
stinging her eyes. She took her hands off her
ears and the wind howled deeply all around her,
whispering “Ava…” Holly turned around fast as to
see where that whispering voice came from. Her
heart began to pick up beats and she heard it
again: “Ava…” Kevin, oblivious to anything, picked
up another pumpkin. This one was taller and had
a wide, sturdy base. “This is the one, Holly. This
is our pumpkin.” He noticed his sister was
startled again, frantically looking around in every
direction. Concerned, he sat the pumpkin back
down and approached her. “What‟s wrong?” Holly
had a cold tear dripping down her cheek. She
swallowed hard and looked Kevin in the eyes.
“Something‟s really wrong, Kevin. I heard Ava.”
“Huh?” “When that wind just blew through, I
swear I heard Ava‟s voice in it. She said her
name.” “Holly…” Kevin began, but didn‟t know
how to comfort her.....
"The whispers, the cold hand on my neck at the
diner – this morning when I was waiting for you
at the park, I thought I saw shadowy figures
standing in the trees…” “What are you saying?” “I
think it‟s a warning"
Police now swarmed the area around the
Watkins home on Amity Road. Police cars, with
their spinning blue lights, sat on the side of the
road and a couple of them even blocked Amity
Road in both directions. It was officially a crime
scene. The coroners van sat parked in the rocky
driveway with the back doors open. Patrick
Snowden‟s corpse laid still in the back of the van
on a folded up gurney. The coroner covered the
body with a white sheet after Detective James
Miller got one last glance at it. Patrick had burn
marks curling around his neck. It appeared to be
a strangulation, but with burn marks? It didn‟t
make sense. “Thank you,” Detective Miller said
to the coroner as he shut the back doors to his
van. Officers York and Westman joined Miller in
the blocked off roadway. “So, he was found in
the cornfield?” “Yes, sir,” York said, glancing back
at the field of dead crops. “We found him laying
in there, facedown.” “And no one‟s home, you
said?” “No, sir.” “What can you tell me about the
family who lives here?
York began, “It‟s Elizabeth Watkins and her
caretaker. Mr. Watkins passed away several
years ago.” “And this is the house where those
murders took place some years back? What‟s
that whole story?” A car horn honked viciously
just outside the police barricade. Detective
Miller‟s attention was immediately drawn to an
old green and tan station wagon. “Who‟s that?”
he squinted. York took a careful look and
identified them. “That‟s actually Ms. Watkins
now.” “Let them through!” Miller shouted, and
waved for the officers blocking their way to let
the car in. Elizabeth Watkins sat in her
wheelchair on the front porch, and Valerie stood
behind her very protectively. Detective Miller
pulled up a fold-up chair that was leaning against
the railing and sat down, leaning forward. “Where
have you been all morning?” Miller asked. Ms.
Watkins‟ hands started shaking, probably from
her old age. “We went to the cemetery to visit
her husbands grave,” Valerie chimed in. Miller
looked up at her, annoyed she had answered
when he was addressing Elizabeth. But he took
what information he could, from whoever was
going to offer it up.
“Which cemetery is that?”
“Wesley Chapel, on the east side of Hilliard.”
“What time did you leave to go there?”
“We left around eight. We grabbed breakfast
first.” “It‟s noon,”
Miller checked his watch.
“Did you go anywhere else afterwards?”
“Nope,” Valerie said, slightly irritated. She wasn‟t
even 100% sure what was going on.
“Did you see your mail carrier at all today?”
Valerie looked down the driveway to the mess of
police cars. She noticed the empty mail truck
sitting off to the side of the road. “No,” she said.
“Why? Where is he?” “He‟s dead – found
strangled in your cornfield with some sort of burn
marks around his neck.” Elizabeth grew uneasy in
her seat and looked towards the cornfield off to
her right. Valerie put a comforting hand on her
shoulder, and Elizabeth finally calmed down. “Are
you implying anything, detective?” Valerie asked.
“I‟m just trying to figure out why a man is dead
on your property, Ms…” “Warner,” she said.
“Valerie Warner.” “And you‟re the…housekeeper?
"I care for Ms. Watkins. I feed her, bathe her,
wash her clothes and sheets, and keep the
house clean. I cared for her husband too, before
he passed on. I‟ve been with the Watkins‟ family
for a very long time, detective.”
Miller jotted a few notes down into a small black
book he had sitting on his lap. He clicked his pen
closed and stood up. “Ms. Watkins, Ms. Warner,
I‟ll be back a little later on. I‟m going to have
two of my officers stationed at the end of your
driveway for the day just to keep an eye on
things. Would that be okay?” “I don‟t see why
not,” Valerie said. Miller smiled. “Great.” He
reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his
business card. He handed it to Elizabeth, but
Valerie reached for it instead. Miller pulled back
on the card and Valerie stopped, the two of them
making eye contact. “Ms. Watkins,” Miller
proceeded to hand her the card, “call me if you
need anything.” Elizabeth reached out with her
shaky arm and grabbed the Detective‟s card. He
smiled at both of them and then turned around
and walked back up the driveway where the
coroner‟s van was just pulling away from the
scene. Valerie pushed Elizabeth in through the
front doors and into the house. She made sure
the door was shut and locked behind her....
"I don‟t know how on Earth they could insinuate
that we had something to do with that man‟s
death,” Valerie said, offended. Elizabeth didn‟t
say a word, but instead looked up to the ceiling
where the chandelier hung still. It slowly started
to rock back and forth creating a quiet jingling
sound. The ceiling then started to creak like
someone was walking across the floor above
them. “It‟s just the rats, Ms. Watkins. No
worries.” “Just the rats,” Elizabeth repeated
quietly. “Just the rats…” Elizabeth closed her
eyes and pictured the young girl, Melissa,
hanging from the chandelier – her body bloodied
from an unseen attack. Elizabeth smiled as she
heard the screams in her head..
" A witch?” Westman laughed. York looked at him
with a serious face. “There‟s a lot you don‟t
know about Hilliard,” he said. York knocked
again, but no one ever came to answer it.
“Follow me.” York led the way around to the
backyard, walking in the grass between the
house and the cornfield. The gravel driveway
stretched around the other side of the house and
into the back where there was room for more
than one car to park. The lot was empty. Just
beyond the gravel parking area was an old barn,
gray and brown in color. The shutters on the
front and sides were old and barely hanging on.
The front door to the barn was opened, and
inside the barn sat in darkness. The officers
walked up to the barns‟ entrance and York
noticed a silky spider web stretching across the
entire doorframe. The web was huge, but there
wasn‟t a spider to be seen. The loud squawk of
a bird fluttering overhead startled the officers
and instinct told them to duck. York looked up
and watched as a black raven perch itself on the
top of the barn and tilt its‟ head to look down at
them. The raven squawked again as it sat there,
watching them....
"That‟s a big bird,” Westman said. York nodded.
“Indeed.” His nerves started to get the best of
him. “Let‟s go back up front and wait on the
backup.” York led the way back along the side of
the house. ~ Holly and Kevin were walking
through the pumpkin patch at Kuhlwein‟s. There
were a few other people scattered around in the
fields, but most everyone else in Hilliard had
already picked their pumpkins. Halloween might
have been considered a little too late to be
picking out a pumpkin to carve. “What about this
one?” Holly said, picking up a short and plump
one. Kevin looked it over with hesitation. “Maybe
we‟ll get something a little taller. We‟ll have
more options for carving.” As Holly set the
pumpkin back down in the dirt, a chilly wind
picked up and blew in from the west. Holly
shielded her eyes from any flying dirt debris. She
looked around at the few other people in the
patch. She looked passed the fields to the tree
line in the distance and watched the trees,
vacant of their leaves, sway in the wind......
Something seemed off to her. This Halloween
felt different. It felt...menacing. The cold wind
howled past her ears and she covered them with
her gloved hands and squinted to avoid it
stinging her eyes. She took her hands off her
ears and the wind howled deeply all around her,
whispering “Ava…” Holly turned around fast as to
see where that whispering voice came from. Her
heart began to pick up beats and she heard it
again: “Ava…” Kevin, oblivious to anything, picked
up another pumpkin. This one was taller and had
a wide, sturdy base. “This is the one, Holly. This
is our pumpkin.” He noticed his sister was
startled again, frantically looking around in every
direction. Concerned, he sat the pumpkin back
down and approached her. “What‟s wrong?” Holly
had a cold tear dripping down her cheek. She
swallowed hard and looked Kevin in the eyes.
“Something‟s really wrong, Kevin. I heard Ava.”
“Huh?” “When that wind just blew through, I
swear I heard Ava‟s voice in it. She said her
name.” “Holly…” Kevin began, but didn‟t know
how to comfort her.....
"The whispers, the cold hand on my neck at the
diner – this morning when I was waiting for you
at the park, I thought I saw shadowy figures
standing in the trees…” “What are you saying?” “I
think it‟s a warning"
Police now swarmed the area around the
Watkins home on Amity Road. Police cars, with
their spinning blue lights, sat on the side of the
road and a couple of them even blocked Amity
Road in both directions. It was officially a crime
scene. The coroners van sat parked in the rocky
driveway with the back doors open. Patrick
Snowden‟s corpse laid still in the back of the van
on a folded up gurney. The coroner covered the
body with a white sheet after Detective James
Miller got one last glance at it. Patrick had burn
marks curling around his neck. It appeared to be
a strangulation, but with burn marks? It didn‟t
make sense. “Thank you,” Detective Miller said
to the coroner as he shut the back doors to his
van. Officers York and Westman joined Miller in
the blocked off roadway. “So, he was found in
the cornfield?” “Yes, sir,” York said, glancing back
at the field of dead crops. “We found him laying
in there, facedown.” “And no one‟s home, you
said?” “No, sir.” “What can you tell me about the
family who lives here?
York began, “It‟s Elizabeth Watkins and her
caretaker. Mr. Watkins passed away several
years ago.” “And this is the house where those
murders took place some years back? What‟s
that whole story?” A car horn honked viciously
just outside the police barricade. Detective
Miller‟s attention was immediately drawn to an
old green and tan station wagon. “Who‟s that?”
he squinted. York took a careful look and
identified them. “That‟s actually Ms. Watkins
now.” “Let them through!” Miller shouted, and
waved for the officers blocking their way to let
the car in. Elizabeth Watkins sat in her
wheelchair on the front porch, and Valerie stood
behind her very protectively. Detective Miller
pulled up a fold-up chair that was leaning against
the railing and sat down, leaning forward. “Where
have you been all morning?” Miller asked. Ms.
Watkins‟ hands started shaking, probably from
her old age. “We went to the cemetery to visit
her husbands grave,” Valerie chimed in. Miller
looked up at her, annoyed she had answered
when he was addressing Elizabeth. But he took
what information he could, from whoever was
going to offer it up.
“Which cemetery is that?”
“Wesley Chapel, on the east side of Hilliard.”
“What time did you leave to go there?”
“We left around eight. We grabbed breakfast
first.” “It‟s noon,”
Miller checked his watch.
“Did you go anywhere else afterwards?”
“Nope,” Valerie said, slightly irritated. She wasn‟t
even 100% sure what was going on.
“Did you see your mail carrier at all today?”
Valerie looked down the driveway to the mess of
police cars. She noticed the empty mail truck
sitting off to the side of the road. “No,” she said.
“Why? Where is he?” “He‟s dead – found
strangled in your cornfield with some sort of burn
marks around his neck.” Elizabeth grew uneasy in
her seat and looked towards the cornfield off to
her right. Valerie put a comforting hand on her
shoulder, and Elizabeth finally calmed down. “Are
you implying anything, detective?” Valerie asked.
“I‟m just trying to figure out why a man is dead
on your property, Ms…” “Warner,” she said.
“Valerie Warner.” “And you‟re the…housekeeper?
"I care for Ms. Watkins. I feed her, bathe her,
wash her clothes and sheets, and keep the
house clean. I cared for her husband too, before
he passed on. I‟ve been with the Watkins‟ family
for a very long time, detective.”
Miller jotted a few notes down into a small black
book he had sitting on his lap. He clicked his pen
closed and stood up. “Ms. Watkins, Ms. Warner,
I‟ll be back a little later on. I‟m going to have
two of my officers stationed at the end of your
driveway for the day just to keep an eye on
things. Would that be okay?” “I don‟t see why
not,” Valerie said. Miller smiled. “Great.” He
reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his
business card. He handed it to Elizabeth, but
Valerie reached for it instead. Miller pulled back
on the card and Valerie stopped, the two of them
making eye contact. “Ms. Watkins,” Miller
proceeded to hand her the card, “call me if you
need anything.” Elizabeth reached out with her
shaky arm and grabbed the Detective‟s card. He
smiled at both of them and then turned around
and walked back up the driveway where the
coroner‟s van was just pulling away from the
scene. Valerie pushed Elizabeth in through the
front doors and into the house. She made sure
the door was shut and locked behind her....
"I don‟t know how on Earth they could insinuate
that we had something to do with that man‟s
death,” Valerie said, offended. Elizabeth didn‟t
say a word, but instead looked up to the ceiling
where the chandelier hung still. It slowly started
to rock back and forth creating a quiet jingling
sound. The ceiling then started to creak like
someone was walking across the floor above
them. “It‟s just the rats, Ms. Watkins. No
worries.” “Just the rats,” Elizabeth repeated
quietly. “Just the rats…” Elizabeth closed her
eyes and pictured the young girl, Melissa,
hanging from the chandelier – her body bloodied
from an unseen attack. Elizabeth smiled as she
heard the screams in her head..
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