Kisses from the Grave - Chapter 4 (standard:Ghost stories, 2982 words) [4/8] show all parts
Author: kissofthehungry	Added: Jan 22 2005	Views/Reads: 2631/2055	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Mark is determined to find out what caused the house to be put on the market, but the town's lips are sealed. Meanwhile, he experiences more strange occurances in the house.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


He walked over to the oldest cashier, a woman named Dora with graying
red hair and a pair of blue spectacles.  Opening his mouth to talk, she 
beat him to the punch, "I don't recognize you.  You must be one of them 
folks who bought the Stevens's place." 

"Yeah," he smiled, "I am.  I'm Mark." 

"Well, pleased to meet you Mark, I'm Dora.  What can I help you with
today?" her smile was pleasant, very warm and what he expected of a 
good natured country woman. 

"I wanted to know why the Stevens just upped and moved.  What made them
sell the house so cheap?  I know that they had a family tragedy, but I 
wanted to know what," he threw out his request, aware of how silly he 
sounded but needing to do it anyway.  Dora looked at the other two 
cashiers then back at him. 

"Honestly, Mark, you'd best be talking to ol' Al.  He was their weekend
gardener but he was let go when they moved.  He'd be the best one to 
give you information on that.  He's at Al's Hardware, if you want to 
find him," she explained, gesturing out the glass doors to the very 
place he had just left.  Of course, wasn't that always the way it 
worked? 

"Thanks," he turned around and left, heading back towards Al's when his
father strode out the door. 

"Let's head back home, he doesn't have the parts I need but is ordering
them.  They'll be here in a week and I'll pick them up then," his 
father got in the car without waiting for a response.  Mark felt 
disapointment well up inside him and he looked longingly at Al's then 
got in the car.  He'd come with his father in a week to pick up the 
parts, he could wait until then, even if it was going to be 
impatiently. 

When he got home, he immediately went over to the tire swing but Desiree
and Poka were already waiting for him.  Her smile made his heart start 
to pound quicker and he found he had to force himself not to run. 

"Hey, how are you?" she asked, stroking the huge german shepard's head. 
He still couldn't get over how beautiful she was, and it was all 
natural, no makeup like most girls, including Michelle, liked to wear. 

"Ah, just got back from town.  How about you, how are you doing?" for a
moment, he saw her as she had been in his dream, but he quickly shoved 
the image aside. 

"As good as can be expected.  What were you doing in town?"  She sat
down on the soft grass and he joined her. 

"My dad needed some parts but they didn't have them," a thought dawned
on him, "Hey, do you know why the family that lived here left?  I heard 
something happened with the family but my parents didn't find out 
what."  A cloud passed over her face and she looked down at the ground, 
absently playing with a blade of grass. 

Then she spoke and somehow, he knew she was lying, "I don't know.  I
just know it was something bad.  Something real bad."  He wondered why 
she was lying but he didn't push the issue.  He would know in a week 
what had happened. 

After about and hour of sitting there, talking, Desiree stood up, "I've
gotta go.  I'll see you tomorrow."  Rising, he nodded his head in 
understanding.  Suddenly, she leaned over and kissed him quickly on the 
lips.  Her cheeks darkened then she ran off into the marsh with Poka 
running at her heels.  Mark felt like jumping up into the air and 
shouting at the top of his lungs, but he settled for running to the 
house as fast as he could. 

Once in the house, he could hear his parents working on a room down the
hall on the first floor.  He debated going and helping but he thought 
of how warm his dad had been that morning.  On second thought, he 
didn't really have that much interest.  Passing the office, he walked 
towards the stairs then stopped. 

Something about the office was off.  Slowly, he walked back and peered
in, the office was only the office.  For a moment, he suddenly saw a 
room with a girl's bed and bright pink and green daisy decor.  Then it 
was gone and he could have sworn he heard a girl sigh. 

Quickly, he turned around and ran down the hall to his where his parents
were working.  They were laughing and joking as they hammered up a 
piece of framework on the wall.  Coming upon them so carefree made him 
decide to go up to his room.  Surely he was imagining the sounds and 
the room, he didn't need to stress them out anymore than he already 
had. 

Having got control of himself, he walked calmly back to the office, he
was going to look in and show it was normal.  However, as he neared the 
doorway, he started hypervenilating, his palms sweating.  Not sure of 
what he would see, he looked in, and there was the office, looking just 
as his parents had set it up.  Maybe he was going crazy, that had to be 
it.  The stress and guilt from the accident was making him hallucinate 
and imagine things that weren't there.  Perhaps he should tell his 
parents and get some help, but then again, he didn't really want to 
give up on himself again. 

Deciding that he was going to face whatever was happening alone, he
climbed up the stairs and this time, he definately heard a girl crying. 
 It sounded like it was downstairs, so he turned back around and 
listened.  Over the crying, he heard a whisper that made his skin 
crawl.  Whatever it was had whispered his name, calling to him.  
Swallowing, he didn't know his mouth could be so dry, he crept along 
the first floor, listening to the frantic sobs. 

He reached the kitchen and the cries were louder, floating up from the
basement door.  Fear pulsed in his stomach and he was unable to move, 
frozen, staring at the door.  Then his hand seemed to move on it's own 
and he watched in horror as he opened the door.  The stairway yawned 
like a black mouth at him, inviting him into it's throat.  Quickly, he 
flicked on the light and the crying stopped. 

For a moment, he stood there, debating.  Did he want to investigate
further or go upstairs and pretend it didn't happen?  Pretending that 
he was imagining things didn't seem to be doing any good so he began a 
slow descent into the depths of the house. 

A soft voice, familiar but not, moaned, "Maaaaark."  Chills swept across
his body and he paused, but it wasn't repeated, so he continued.  Once 
at the base, he looked about, there were boxes and dusty pieces of 
furniture casting creepy shadows over the earth floor.  Carefully he 
crept forward and the lights flickered.  Frightened, he stopped moving, 
he wasn't too far away from the stairs, he could turn back.  For some 
reason, he didn't, he found himself moving forward almost against his 
will.  The lights flickered again and suddenly he was plunged into 
darkness. 

"Please don't, don't do that," a girl sobbed desperately, "No, I won't
tell..."  Mark froze, he couldn't see anything, didn't know if he could 
make his way back to the stairs.  He was terrified. 

The lights flashed back on and his mother was at the top of the stairs,
"Mark, what are you doing down there?" 

"I thought I heard something but I was wrong," he smiled weakly, his
stomach still lurching from the fear.  What had his mother interrupted? 
 Who was the girl and who wouldn't she tell on?  What was there to not 
tell about? 

"Oh, well, could you get the big piece of wood leaning against the
wall?" she asked and he replied that he could.  He carried it up to her 
and looked back down in the basement, it was silent, cold, and bright 
with light.  What had happened down there? 

Somehow, he got sucked into helping his parents with the room but he had
fun.  The chilliness of the morning with his dad was forgotten and they 
joked together, just like old times. 

At dinner, he asked his father, "That family tragedy, did somebody die
here?" 

His dad looked up and laughed, "Oh come on, they would have told me if
someone had died.  I doubt it was anything that serious.  Why?  What 
makes up ask?" 

"Just curious, I want to know why they left," he shrugged his shoulders
and looked down at his food. 

From outside, a dog howled pitifully and his mother asked, "Did you guys
hear that?"  Mark nodded, it was the same dog as last night.  At least 
he hadn't imagined that and wasn't alone on hearing it. 

"Yeah, neighbors probably let their dogs roam loose.  It's not unusual
in places like this," his dad announced and his mom smiled, excepting 
his explanation, but Mark didn't.  It was too coincedental.  As if too 
verify his worries, there was the sound of breaking glass in the 
office. 

"What was that?" his mother asked and Mark noticed the fear in her
voice.  Maybe he wasn't the only one hearing things. 

"I'll go check it out," his dad stood up, looking annoyed. 

Mark rose too, "I'll come with you."  His father shrugged, and the whole
family trooped to the office.  The closet door stood ajar and a picture 
that had been hanging on the wall lay upon the floor, glass scattered 
around it. 

"Must not have the put the nail in right," his dad decided and his mom
began to pick up the pieces.  The picture didn't bother Mark as much as 
the open closet.  There wasn't anything in it yet but he could have 
sworn he saw a shadow lurking in it, something watching them.  At that 
moment, his mom looked up into the closet and squeeked. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, and she pulled the door open completely. 
Nothing hid within it's confines, nothing waited to leap out at them. 

"Oh wow, I'm just seeing things.  I thought I saw someone watching me,"
she laughed nervously, "Guess it was just the light playing with my 
eyes."  His dad laughed and rubbed her back, reassuring her but Mark 
wasn't reassured or convinced.  His mother and he had seen something 
watching them, and he was frightened.  If it were the source of the 
girl's voice, he wasn't too worried, but if it were whatever had 
frightened her, than he was terrified. 

That night, he dreamed again of the dead Desiree and still he was stuck
to the swing.  Once more, he found himself outside, but he wasn't 
surprised this time.  He stood by the swing a few minutes before going 
in, listening to the sounds of the night.  The marsh sang with the 
sound of bugs and night birds.  There was nothing off, no dog howling 
and no girl crying. 

When he crept into the house, the smell of dead flowers didn't reach him
nor did he feel that something was with him.  When he walked by the 
office, the hairs on his neck stood up, but only cause he feared the 
room not cause anything was there. 

Again, he slipped off to sleep and the horrors of his accident haunted
him once more, Benny breathing his last. 

This time though, Benny grabbed his hand and warned, "Marky Mark, you've
gotta be careful.  Not everything is as it seems.  If you dig too much, 
you're gonna find out too much.  More than you want to know and more 
than someone wants you to know.  And you'll be alone on this, no one's 
got your back.  Be very careful."  Then he died, blood trickling out of 
his mouth, his hand still gripping Mark's tightly. 

Mark woke up in a cold sweat, still feeling Benny's hand.  Then he
realized something was holding his hand so tight it felt as if the 
bones were grinding against each other. 

"Let go," he gasped and tried to pull away, but it wouldn't let go. 
With his other hand, he turned on the lamp next to his bed.  Instantly, 
his hand was free and nothing was in the room with him.  Massaging his 
throbbing hand, he looked about but nobody hid in the shadows.  What in 
the world was going on?  What had been holding his hand? 

There was no way he could even pretend he had imagined it for there were
fingerprints on his hand, dark red but already beginning to fade.  
Something very solid had been inflicting pain upon him, something that 
could disappear in a matter of seconds.  A week may be too long before 
he found out what happened. 

In the morning, he was going to talk to Al.  He'd figure out some excuse
to get his family into town, any excuse.  If he could, he would have 
driven out, but his license had been revoked and even if hadn't been, 
he wasn't allowed to drive by his parents decree.  He slipped off to 
sleep with his lamp on, maybe the soft glow would protect him from 
further embraces.


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