Dum, dum, dummmmmmmmmmmmmmm!
An old grandfather clock chimed on a stormy night in the old house as it stood in the hallway. Flashes of lightning sparked in the night sky from the billowing black clouds that hovered like demons in the night. Thunder rumbled quickly after each spark of lightning, making eerie shadows upon the gnarled trees that stood around the dilapidated home. Rain drops pattered nosily on the roof as the rain literally was dispensed from the sky, water free flowing everywhere making the gravel road a stream and impassible by visitors to its doors.
Except one: Billy Ray Smith huddled in the corner of the living room with his younger sister Catherine, soaked and shivering as they listened with wide eyes to the creaks and groans of the old house. There is no lights save a lantern Billy had found in the kitchen and he thought he could hear moaning somewhere in the rooms around him.
Another creak and groan, and he thought he heard footsteps walking above him. He reached for the revolver that he had brought with him.
“Someone is there Billy!” His younger sister whispered and he turned his head to frown.
“Shush.” He told her annoyed, “If anyone is here, we don’t want them to find us very quickly. Besides if they come, I have the revolver.”
“I don’t like it here, can’t we risk the storm?” She whined, and he grimaced.
“We are very far from where we started, I think, and I don’t think I want to risk a cold or illness until we know where we are.”
Another flash brightened the room, and another crackling thunderclap echoed through the forest around them. More creaks and what sounded like footsteps. Lifting the revolver he held it steady, checking it briefly over.
“Good loaded.” He thought, flipping the chamber closed with a click.
Together they could hear the constant ticking of the clock in the next room, driving them mad by the annoying sound that it made. Nodding to his sister they both stood up and he motioned for her to follow.
“We should see if there is anything here we can use.” He told her, “Let me go first, since I have the revolver.”
“Okay Billy.” She replied, taking his offered hand and they stealthily slinked to the door. Leading with the pistol, both slipped through the door, and crouched with the light behind the table. Listening intently, they paused before they moved through the hallway toward the stairs. Together they climbed them quickly, and at the top of the stairs they positioned themselves out of sight near the edge of the wall.
They had left the lantern on the bottom floor, and he slowly poked his head to peek around the corner.
“Okay sis, this way.” He said, and carefully they made their way down the hallway, careful around the open doors. Peering in each door, they saw no one in them and together they entered one of the many bedrooms. Here they found another lantern, and lighting it, the light spilled brightly over the interior of the room.
Little did they know that something sinister waited for them, a tall, transparent, specter-like creature that sucked souls that was trapped here in this house as a prisoner, feeding off the visitors and stragglers that would come to the interior for refuge.
It was about six feet in height, its body covered in a shell of what appeared to be leather and lace over the thin silk shirt, and woolen pants, that it wore over its body. The creature had no face, just a sinister set of red eyes, a hint of a nose, and no other distinguishing marks that would identify sex, or gender of this creature. All it was is pure evil, a blood sucker as it would latch on and literally drain the life force from the very human soul. There were always no witnesses to their demise in which victims would die.
“I want to go home.” Billy’s sister whined, and he turned his head, regarding her ashen face, and the look of fear that appeared there. He had not seen the sinister red eyes that peered at them in the darkness, but she had it and she had fought down a scream.
Billy held up the revolver as he finally sensed the presence and he held it out, taking aim at the ghost-like image that appeared in the darkness before them. The young man took aim and pulled the trigger. Blam! Blam! Blam! Three shots rang out and yet the specter did not seem to falter or slow. The youth prepared to pull the trigger once more, and he glanced at his companion briefly as she slumped against the wall. He felt for her pulse, and felt the rapid thrumming in her neck. She had only fainted.
They had to get the hell out of here, but did not know how. The creature was almost upon them, and then the words echoed across the room.
“CUT!” A voice said, “I said CUT Goddamn it. Who are those idiots?”
Everyone turned and the fluorescent lights flashed on as a bell sounded. A young man with an older lady walked onto the set, they were holding hands. Billy, aka Stewart, a teenage author and actor peered at the duo he recognized as his parent, and his young brother Sal. It had been on the movie set where Stewart had been selected for the part, in The Specter roams at Midnight that he played the part of a lost couple. He turned when the bell sounded and also when he did not see Shirley get up from the floor. He rushed to her side.
He examined her quickly. He saw the spot on her clothes, and the bloodstain of a gunshot wound. While he had fired, he had not heard another gunshot.
“Holy shit, get the paramedics over here right away. Shirley’s been shot!”
There was a shout and everyone ran toward the young woman who slumped against the wall. Paramedics always were on standby for movies with stunts and thety ran across the set, arriving quickly to assess the damage.
“She’s been hit in the lower abdomen.” The one paramedic said, working feverishly as he cut the costume. He peered at the wound in silence, at the gaping spurting wound, as the other put in an IV and put on the monitors for heart, breath, and other monitors of the body.
“Get security over here stat!” The director yelled and the assistant motioned to the two men at the door, and to several others who took position around the set.
“They are already here, Mr. Burns.” A voice said.
Stewart ran to his mother and brother, taking up their hands.
“You guys should not be here, and should have waited in the outer wing near the door. There was a small lounge there.” He told them, “I think a murder was committed too. Did you see anyone when you entered?”
“No… No one.” His mother said, and he motioned them back toward the lounge as he heard sirens. The police were here, coming in force, it sounded like three or four cars coming to this location.
Again the chime on the clock rang, as if on cue: Dooong! Doooong! The incessant ticking followed, but this time no-one was listening.