Thirteenth on Maple Street by RK Smith
“I dunno, guys,” Maya said to the group of four. “It looks kinda creepy.”
“Oh, whatever,” said her ever confident brother, Luke.
We stood in front of the old Whitaker house. It was, I'd guess, at least a hundred years old. It was huge, and mostly dark colors, like black and brown. And the most rickety house I'd ever seen.
“Jasper?” Maya asked me.
“Yeah?”
“You okay?”
“Why wouldn't I be?” I replied.
“Oooohhhhhh,” Braden said. “Chicken?”
“Oh, please. You shut your mouth, because you know that I'm tougher than you.” He was quiet for a bit afterward. I smirked. He would never admit that a girl was tougher than him. “Come on,” I said. I began walking toward the crumbling house. “Well? Are you guys coming or not?”
The others reluctantly followed me to the porch steps of the house. “Hey, Jasper,” Braden said. “I've got a bet for you.”
I paused and turned away from the door. “I'm listening.”
“First one to come running out that door, screaming like a little girl, owes the other five bucks.”
“Make it ten,” I declared.
Braden hesitated, then regained his composure. “Deal.” He stuck out his hand. I shook it, confident that he would be running out in five, ten minutes. An easy bet.
“Come on.” Maya still looked uncertain about walking inside. “Maya,” I said, looking into her chocolate brown eyes. “You'll be fine. There's nothing to be afraid of.”
Luke stepped up behind his sister and jump started her. Maya squealed and jerked. Braden and Luke burst out in laughter.
“Guys!” I scolded. “Be nice.” And on that note, I twisted the doorknob and let the group in. Luke and Braden made ghost noises as they walked inside. I rolled my eyes. “Maya, would you hand me a flashlight?”
“Oh, little girl is scared of the dark,” Braden teased.
“What did I tell you earlier about shutting your mouth?” This time, Braden quit talking.
Maya handed me the flashlight. I switched it on. Before us was a long staircase and a hall with a corroded rug. I shuddered.
“Scared already?” Luke asked, taking over for his friend.
“Of course not.”
“Where to first?” Maya looked at me.
“This way.” I started down the rug, causing a cloud of dust to engulf me. I heard Luke snicker. “Huh, I wonder how many spider webs there are around here.”
“S-spiders?” Luke stammered.
I smiled, so glad that I knew their weaknesses. “Yeah. Here are probably spiders all over the place. Look, there's one!”
Luke screeched and jumped. It was absolutely ridiculous to watch as he was caught by Braden, who then dropped him on the ground.
“Made-you-look,” I said. Luke glared at me.
We were silent after that, walking down the hall. Walking down the hall. We came to a small room at the end. I led everyone in. Maya walked about, surveying the room, as if she were considering buying the place. Suddenly, she shrieked as she fell though the floor.
“Maya!” I crawled over to the gaping hole in the floor. “Maya?” No answer. I looked behind me, to the boys. That is, I would have, had they been there. “Braden? Luke?” my voice squeaked. I started panting. They had been there a second ago. What had happened?
I scurried out of the room and back down the hall. I climbed up the long stairway. They never seemed to end. One gave out under my weight. I pulled my leg out of the hole and continued up the stairs. I kept calling for the two boys. “Luke? Braden? Is this some sort of cruel joke?” Again, no familiar voice called back. “Guys?” A dark shape flitted across my view. I flicked the flashlight at it. I heard footsteps. Hard, heavy footsteps that couldn't belong to any one of my friends. The footsteps were headed right toward me! A tall, dark figure stepped out of the gloom. I slowly walked backward. Right into a hole in the top floor.
I screamed as I fell, passing the main floor and into a dark, damp basement. I landed in a pool of goo. Green goo! Ick! I scrambled out, tripping into, what felt like another pool, but of brain! I know that it sounds ridiculous, but that's what it felt like. I swear that I could feel eyeballs in there, too. On top of that, the flashlight had been ruined in the goo. A gust of wind blew through. I was too scared to realize that wind was blowing through the basement.
A figure stumbled forward. I could dimly perceive that this was much different than the one upstairs. I slipped as I tried to stand in the pool of 'brains and eyeballs.' I shrieked as I slid on the damp, gooey floor. The figure continued to slowly follow me, groaning. I was freaking out! I didn't know what to do! But if you have a copy of What to do When a Zombie is Following You, let me know. I continued screaming as I dashed away from the creature. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to wake up panting in my bed.
I ran. Straight into a giant spider web. Now, I wasn't scared of spiders. But, like any sensible person, would be screaming and kicking like mad if a giant spider showed up. I heard the steps of the 'zombie' disappear. I dragged myself out of the huge web to where I thought the stairs were. My next best option to waking up, would be getting back upstairs and out the door. Inside, I was probably hoping that Braden was already out the door.
“Braden? Maya? Luke?” I groaned. Once again, no reply. In the last five minutes, I had become very tired. Any adrenaline I might have had was sucked out of me. “Guys? Is this a joke?” If so, it was a very cruel joke. As unlucky as I could get, I heard barking. A stampede of paws came charging my way. I ran as best I could to get away from this pack of dogs. They scurried around me. I sneezed. Well, I thought. If this were Braden or Luke playing a prank on me, they wouldn't use dogs. They know that I'm allergic to dogs. Right? I couldn't actually recall telling them that I was allergic.
Then the weirdest thing happened. Well, rather weird anyway. This had already been a weird enough. I saw a ghost. Or, that's just the best way to describe it. I had never believed in ghosts, but I was telly freaked out. I bet you can guess what I did next. I . . . screamed. I found the stairway and climbed up it, twisting and turning. Then I made a fatal step. Right into a snare. I was dragged into the air by a rope. I heard laughter and footsteps. Lights came on. I saw three faces, twisted with laughter.
“Ha ha guys. Very funny.”
Those Piercing Black Eyes by ShaeLyn Heaps
“Whoa,” Carrie whispered.
There were 12 of us, 5 boys, 7 girls, sitting in the small, dark room. At around 11:30 p.m. it was deathly quiet, scaring me to the point of shivering. I pulled my blanket tighter around my body.
“Why again are we all crammed into this small room with all the lights off?” I quietly asked.
My best friend John, at 13 mouthed, “Luke, shut your mouth!”
With everyone too chicken to break the silence, I began to be frustrated.
“People? Are we dead or something?” I said loudly, frustrated.
Everyone quickly turned their head from the window to stare at me, fright shown on their white faces.
‘Oh, jeez.’ I thought. ‘Do they really all believe that the ghost of Fredrik Chereskey will come out and stand by his mailbox at midnight? How old are we people? 4 or 12?’
Fredrik Chereskey was a cranky, mean, old Russian man who died roughly 8 months ago. Sadly for him, we were all relieved to hear of his death.
Until we heard how he was killed.
An older teenager from our town named Buster, had been angry at the old man. Fredrik (or Mr. Chereskey as our parents insisted we call him) had yelled at Buster for slipping through his thick, iron gate to retrieve a baseball that had been hit into his yard. Because this wasn’t the first time kids had been punished or yelled at for dumb reasons by “Mr. Chereskey”, Buster and his friends made a plan to get him back for all he had done. They ended up killing the old grouch.
They came one day during February, slipping through his gate, setting off the alarm. He came out in his pine green robe, yelling and found 3 teens, Buster, Crash, and Slam standing in his yard. Because they were wrapped up in coats, scarves, and hats, he assumed they were new to the area, and hadn’t been told of him yet. He began to swear at them to get off of his property. Buster, with Crash to his left and Slam to his right, pulled out a pistol that he had stolen from his dad. They were just threatening the man with the gun, but it wasn’t on safety like they thought. Buster shot him straight through the heart. When he realized what he had done he screamed like a little girl, dropped the pistol, and ran, Crash and Slam following. Fredrik was found days later, frozen to his porch, a bullet hole through his chest.
When they found the pistol with Buster’s fingerprints on it, he went to court. On the last day of the jury, where Buster was sentenced to get mental help, Fredrik’s ghost showed up. We were all told that he had sworn to get back on the one who had killed him. He would show up by his large brick mailbox at midnight on Halloween. If his killer didn’t show, he would roam the town, killing, until he found the kid. We had all stayed away from Buster since. I felt kind of bad for the kid, he spent most of his time in his house, apparently reading, which wasn’t like his old self.
Fredrik Chereskey’s manor was across the street from an old, broken down woodshop. Our group of 12 often spent time in this old shack, which was where we were tonight. But tonight was different.
It was Halloween.
I began to get tired, and seeing no reason to stay up, laid back and dozed off. 20 minutes later, I was awakened by a large gasp. As I awoke and sat up little Lilly Anderson at 5 years old, fell backwards. I caught her and silently laid her back onto my pillow. She appeared to have fainted.
‘This should be good’ I thought to myself.
As the oldest guy in the group, at 14, I took responsibility for everything that happened to any of my group members. My group consisted of 4 12 year olds, 3 9 year olds, a 7 year old, John who was 13, Lilly at 5, and Lucy who was 14, same as me. I stood and quietly walked over to Lucy, avoiding the pillows and blankets sprawled over the floor.
“What’s going on?” I whispered to Lucy, startling her.
“Oh! You scared me Luke. Look!” She said quietly pointing out the window.
I couldn’t believe it.
There it was, Fredrik Chereskey’s ghost floating inches above the ground to the left of the brick mailbox.
‘Oh snap…’ I thought to myself. ‘They just proved me wrong!’
“How long has he been there?” I asked Lucy.
“About 3 minutes.” Lucy exclaimed.
‘Great! He’s going to start roaming the town about now.’ I thought.
As I was about to repeat my thought to Lucy, the ghost began to move, or float I guess, towards us.
“Everyone down!” I exclaimed, startling everyone, including myself.
Everyone pounded to the floor. I heard ouches, and groans as people landed on top of each other.
‘Oh! What to do? What to do?’ I thought beginning to panic.
“I’m going to peek.” I said to Lucy, my voice obviously quivering.
“K.” She said, just as nervous.
As I slowly army crawled over to the window I thought to myself, ‘Oh jeez. This is so scary! SO scary!’
I picked myself up onto my knees, and slowly onto my feet in a squat.
‘Here goes nothing’ I thought, scared out of my wits.
As I brought my head up and looked over the window seal, out through the dirty glass, I found myself looking into two large, black eyes!
“Oh… My…. Gosh…..” I stuttered, getting louder with each word.
As I fell backwards, landing on someone’s leg, I heard a scream from one of the girls in the room.
‘I… must… save… the… others’ I stuttered to myself.
I then boldly stood, taking in my surroundings. Everyone was frozen with fear, I guess it was all up to me to save everyone. I noticed a loose board on the ground, and avoiding looking through the window, reached down to grab it.
‘This is it’ I thought.
I then looked at the window out of the corner of my eye, trying to get a good aim without having to look into those eyes.
Those eyes. They were like pits of darkness that never ended.
As I threw that board at the window with all my might, that Halloween night, I hoped and prayed that ghosts didn’t like wood.
When we went home the next morning, none of our parents believed our story. Most of the kids in our group have forgotten that night; it’s mostly just Lucy and me now. But don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect anyone else to remember.
No one else saw those piercing black eyes.
