Ghost

By Sean Burton 

On a night like any other, I suddenly awoke to a slight chill and uneasiness that washed over my body. Something felt... Angry.  My eyes anxiously darted around the room at the slightest movement or noise – the ticking hand of the clock… leaves brushing across the glass of my window…  Then, a distinct shape began to form out of shadows lingering in front of me...

A figure stood leaning over my bed; a daunting gaze from him immediately filled me with dread. His empty black eyes were sunken into the hollows of his face. His skin, a pale, lifeless white, looked as if it was made of ash. Our eyes met.

“Why…are you here...” the figure whispered. I did not see his lips move, but his question slipped through my ears, and lingered in my mind, burning the back of my head. I winced. His mouth opened wide as he repeated, “WHY are you HERE?"

His voice echoed. My body trembled. I didn’t respond – I couldn’t speak.

“You do not… belong here!" he bellowed.

I tried to speak, but nothing but air came out of me. I couldn’t do more than mouth words. Before fear could even strike, so many questions filled my head to the point where I couldn't even begin to wonder if I was dreaming or not.

“GET OUT!”

I heard a loud bang directly beside me and then the figure disappeared. The smell of smoke, sulfur and an old musk filled the air and quickly dissipated.

What just happened? I kept replaying what I had just seen in my mind, trying my hardest to make sense of it. I didn’t even notice the sweat at my forehead or the hairs standing on my arms.

___

I can still hear that distinct voice in my head to this day.

“GET OUT.”

I can still smell the aged musk around the same spot the figure appeared, as if he is still there.

Someone is staring at me. I can feel as if someone is standing beside me, waiting for the right moment to appear again. Have I gone crazy?

My curiosity got the best of me. I could not let that night’s occurrences go overlooked. I could sense that it was not the last of the figure’s visits.

I cautiously approached the owner of the property. I asked if there had been any complaints from other tenants about strange noises or smells. He looked at me as if I was insane.

“Why? Did you see a ghost or something?" he asked jokingly, almost mockingly.

His tone quickly changed after seeing my reaction. He cleared his throat and followed with an apology. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Truth be told, I have had an issue with this property ever since I bought it. I'm not saying I believe in ghosts, because that's silly, but every now and then I'll hear people whispering. I smell a musky odor that seems to follow me.”

“May I ask how you ended up buying this building?" I asked, hopeful of finding out more.

“I bought it from a member of my family,” he replied flatly. “This building has always been a residence for many years. It is strange though, something happened and everyone started to move out. I guess they weren't happy with the management.”

My curiosity heightened. "Why do you say that?” I asked. “What was wrong with the manager?"

He sighed and shook his head, “He wasn't a bad person. He had little patience for tenants and, from what I remember; he was having troubles at home, too. He used to openly accuse the male residents of committing adultery with his wife. Needless to say, it didn't end well. After everyone started leaving; he became depressed. We really don't know what happened to him. Leonard, I believe his name was…"

Paranoia strikes every day since the apparition of the figure. I see things from the corner of my eye. I constantly hear whispers through my home. The musky smell lingers... It seems to be following me everywhere I go,; almost as if it was coming from me.

A phone call from an out of town friend, Alice, soon became my mental salvation. One day she ended a conversation by saying she’ll be in town later that day., “Need any company tonight?” she asked.  

“That would be great,” I responded.  A night on the town is exactly what I needed. Could I possibly get the dark, threatening figure out of my mind?

With Alice, I almost felt normal again. But by this time, I couldn’t even begin to remember what “normal” felt like.

After dinner, we returned to my flat. I took my time opening the door, teasing her that my place may be a bit messy. I led her in and turned the lights on quickly. She said something when we entered, but I could barely hear her over the sounds of a million thoughts rushing though my mind. It began to feel like something was standing in the corner away, lurking in the shadows, staring at us both.

“C’mon, it’s not that messy.”

That chill shoots up my spine. It took me a moment to conjure relevant words to respond with. “Okay, m aybe--it's just a tad messy,” my voice cracked.

I passed the bedroom and couldn’t help but keep my eyes on the corner. Did something just move? But the light, like me, seems reluctant to approach the darkness as it refuses to light the area. I know he is there and I know he can see me.

I read the clock when I suddenly awoke to a sound of something clicking right next to my ear: 3AM.

I didn't want to startle Alice, so I calmly looked around the room and saw nothing unusual. I heard the click again, followed by a whisper.

“How could you?"

I froze.

It felt like nearly an hour had passed before I could gather myself to look in the direction of the whisper. I was entrenched in fear as I tried to decipher whether or not I was just dreaming or if this was really happening again. I held my breath and looked.

Nothing was there.

Exhaling, quickly I looked down to my right. In bed next to me was Alice, still fast asleep. Within seconds, my relief was stripped of me when a loud bang echoed throughout the bedroom and sent Alice shooting upright, screaming. I looked around and saw it again—

Standing over Alice, staring at her with his mouth wide open as if he were screaming at her, but nothing came out. I was frozen in shock as he pointed his pale, ash- colored hand towards her as she began to cry.

"How could you…”his voice trembled. It looked right at me and stared deep into my soul with eyes a bottomless black. He pointed towards me. There was another loud bang and he vanished as quickly as he had appeared. Why would he show himself now?

       

I haven’t seen Alice since the incident. I’ve heard of things like this completely altering people’s existence to the point where they don’t what to believe anymore. Are we literally walking amongst spirits every day and don’t know it? Why is this spirit still here?

Despite the occurrences, I’ve found myself strangely at ease. Sometimes I see something in the corner of my eye or feel something staring at me from across the room, but it doesn’t scare me anymore. Maybe the next time I see him I can actually say something and not just stare in fear.

“Are you here?” I ask when I’m alone. I can’t believe I’m talking to myself, in hope of a response. I wait patiently for someone to answer when a sudden loud knock on the door startled me.

I get up and answer the door. A stranger stood before me, an elderly man in an overcoat and face hidden by a fedora. He seemed out of place for this side of town.

“Yes, can I help you?”

He said nothing, then simply bent down, stood up straight, tipped his hat, and walked away. I watched him, confused, as he turned the corner at the end of the hallway and disappeared.

I picked up the envelope to open it and couldn’t help but notice that it was freezing. . Inside was a letter and a police report. After reading on, I soon realized it was a suicide letter. A familiar chill ran down my back and my breath left my body as I read:

” To those who it may concern. I, Leonard Winthorp, am responsible for this night. Jessica Winthorp and I will meet all of you again, one day. “