House Haunting in Seattle
A new story for Halloween
The October wind howled, and a devil strode through the Seattle neighborhood. His black cape swishing, red horns gleaming, and plastic pitchfork held high and while other costumed kids hurried by, Trevor Donnelly walked tall, alone, and very much apart. A Halloween Prince amongst peasants. Well, everyone else around here was a peasant to him.
He was too old for trick or treating. But the fifteen-year-old didn’t care, and neither did most of the adults who came to their doors tonight — Trevor’s mask hiding his now treasured stubble. And besides, if anyone did look at him funny, he would just stare back… to the point where they’d quickly hand over the goods and then vanish inside. All because they were scared shitless.
Well, Trevor liked to think that he scared any fools, or perhaps they just knew who his father was. Yes, no one messed with JJ Donnelly or his family around here. John Jacob Donnelly, owner of the local sawmill, and about a zillion other things. Things that would all be Trevor’s someday. He was the heir apparent in waiting, after all.
Grinning as he stopped to lift his mask away, Trevor then bit a candy bar in half. Yes, yummy, free candy was free candy, and he wanted to take full advantage of tonight, even if his father could buy the local supermarket. Yes, JJ Donnelly could even buy —
‘Hey, Trevy.”
Trevor spat chocolate and then whipped around — to find what looked like a fairy standing behind him. A short, thin girl dressed in white and sporting cardboard wings. Her braced smile was wide, and her bespectacled eyes were huge. A small camera hung around her neck.
Trevor glared for a moment before he shuddered. Shit, it was Lucy Redmond. The new girl that sat behind him in History class. That weirdo whose gaze he always felt pierced his skull.
‘So?” Trevor said finally, ‘You want something tick?’
Lucy finally blinked.
‘Um… well, w-well I just thought that — ’
‘That what? You could talk to me?’
Lucy took a step back. ‘No, I just want to ask… well Trevy, that — ’
‘Christ, stop calling me that. The name’s Trevor or Mister Donnelly. Got it?’
Lucy’s smile finally broke, and she began to sob. Others passing by paused briefly, but then hurried on. Great thought Trevor, and quickly fixed his mask back into place.
‘Cut it out,’ he began and then lowered his voice, ‘For chrissakes, I’m sorry. Now stop, okay?’
Lucy looked back up, her owl eyes now glistening in the lamplight.
‘Okay Trev-I mean, okay Trevor. I’m sorry too.’
‘Forget about it.’
Despite his cooling anger, Trevor was surprised that he hadn’t stormed off. As he truly despised most other people, bar his folks. Even when his father would sometimes chase him up the stairs, a belt coiled around one of the old man’s hands. Even when Trevor would do anything to please him. But he could tolerate that for a few more years until he was old enough to move out. Yes, then he could get his place to rule. Something big and fancy . . . with his father’s help and money of course.
Trevor frowned.
‘Okay, so what it is? I’ve things to do.’
Lucy smiled back.
‘Well… could you bring me to the Barlow House? Jenny Blair told me about it, and I’d love to photograph it.’
Trevor almost laughed.
‘You mean that spook house? Oh please, that’s a load of crap. Get some other sucker to bring you.’
Lucy’s smile melted.
‘Well everyone else I’ve asked said no way, but you . . . well you’re Trevor Donnelly. You’re not scared of anything.’
His returning annoyance quickly cooled, Trevor smirked and then puffed his chest out. He did love an ego stroke — especially from a peasant. And there was no way this little thing could be trying to trick him either. Because if she was, then Lucy Redmond and her family would regret moving here.
‘Okay then,’ Trevor said with a fake sigh, ‘I’ll do you this favor. But you’ll owe me, okay?’
‘Awesome,” said Lucy, before Trevor strode off and she followed.
No one else was around by the time they reached the Barlow House. Stopping before a small, rusted gate, Trevor saw a dark monolith of rotting wood, cracked slates, and broken glass before them. He shivered despite himself… no wonder this place had a reputation. But ghosts? No —
‘So let’s go inside.’
Trevor almost jumped.
‘Christ,’ he said facing Lucy, ‘Stop that.’
The girl nodded and held out a second flashlight.
‘Sorry. But let’s go then.’
Trevor removed his mask. ‘Forget it tick. I just brought you here.’
‘But you promised — don’t you want to go inside?’
‘I promised nothing. And no, you wanted to go inside. So go.’
Lucy smiled.
‘It’s okay to be scared. My dad said-’
‘Let’s go,’ growled Trevor and snatched the flashlight. He expected the gate to creak open— but it made no sound before both teenagers found themselves at the front door. ‘This is going to be awesome,’ said Lucy, raising the camera.
If you’re weird thought Trevor, the dark, almost socket-like windows making him shiver again. Still, it was only a house.
Nudging the door open with his pitchfork — to finally elicit a creak, Trevor then let Lucy slip in first. Her camera flash and the two flashlights went into action; illuminating a large and surprisingly, well-kept hallway. Further searches of the house’s dark, but magnificent dining room, four bedrooms, kitchen, and library maintained a sense of forgotten splendor. Only the occasional cobwebs and dusty items revealed a lack of current occupants. Or at least, occupants Trevor and Lucy could not see.
They both eventually found themselves back in the hallway. ‘Jesus,” said Trevor pulling his mask free and sitting down, halfway up the staircase. ‘This place really is awesome. How long has it been here?’
‘Don’t you know?’ Lucy said with a shrug but smiled as she put her camera away. ‘Since the 1880s. It was built by the Barlow family, who originally came from Yorkshire, England. In fact, Nathanael Barlow was rumored to have fled his home because he was caught practicing dark-’
‘Yeah okay, whatever. But wow, I’ve got to get my dad out here. We just need to get that outside fixed, and the rooms cleaned, and then we might have a brand-new hotel here. Or… something else pretty cool.’
Lucy scowled for the first time.
‘Oh don’t be silly, this is a place of historical importance. The town council would never-’
‘My dad is the council,’ said Trevor getting up, his eyes now huge in the glow of the flashlight. ‘So they’ll change their tune pretty quick. Oh yeah.’
Lucy shook her head and took a step up the staircase.
‘That’s just wrong Trevor. You can’t do that.’
Trevor stared down at Lucy for a moment. Then he slowly replaced his mask and took two steps down.
‘What did you say tick?’
The girl stayed put.
‘You heard me. You can’t just do anything you like?’
Plodding Lucy with his pitchfork, Trevor laughed, the sound echoing throughout. ‘If you had balls, they’d be pretty big ones tick,’ he said, ‘We can do whatever we want, and this place is already ours. Hell, my dad might even give it to me.’
Lucy tilted her head, the now disgusted look never leaving her face. ‘So you want to stay here, Trevy? That’s sad.’
Trevor made a brief fist, but then he grinned.
‘Absolutely.’
‘Fine,’ said Lucy, and then quickly vanished out the front door. Trevor charged down the stairs in pursuit, only to find an empty street waiting for him. The girl was probably hiding now, waiting for him to leave first.
Little coward he thought, but then smiled. He could wait till they were both back in school, and then he would make Lucy Redmond’s life hell. Banging the gate behind him, Trevor then looked back at the house—his imagination now illuminating the dark windows.
Trevor made his way home for what felt like forever, the grin never leaving his face. Yes, his dad could turn that place into a hotel, and maybe let Trevor run it… which would finally give him his own space. The future was looking very goddamn bright.
When Trevor finally stopped and looked around, it took him a moment to break free of his thoughts. Nice job moron, he thought shaking his head, for he had walked in a complete circle.
Trevor smiled again towards the Barlow House before he began walking away. His head was once more filled with the possibilities and opportunities ahead. It took another minute before he stopped again, and peered to his left; to recognize the now-shuttered deli owned by that creep Mr. Wilkins. But this place was not too far from home, so what —
The Barlow House suddenly loomed ahead of him, where a wide alleyway that led to the local park should have been. Trevor jumped, then frowned and rubbed his eyes. But the House was still there… looking as natural in this new setting as it had been so many blocks away.
‘This is crazy,’ Trevor said to no one in particular, as the surrounding area was otherwise deserted. There were no more trick or treaters, or any sort of peasants — he was now completely and utterly alone.
Trevor backtracked and took another, longer route towards the park, and beyond that, home. His mother would go ape, especially knowing he had braved the park after dark. But Trevor didn’t care about that right now. Besides, he was JJ Donnelly’s boy, and no possible punks would ever —
The House was suddenly in the corner of his eye — near the park entrance and where an abandoned factory should have been. Trevor stumbled to the ground, the pitchfork snapping under his weight. Getting up and tearing off his mask, Trevor ran like the actual devil was behind him . . . the park a dark blur as his tired legs went into autopilot. He would occasionally see the House, on his left or right, peeking out from behind a tree, or as a vague, but definite silhouette on open ground. Trevor swerved, stumbled, and almost hit a tree at one point, but still he kept going — racing as swiftly as his heart. All thoughts of pleasing his dad, peasants, or being a prince now dashed to the back of Trevor’s mind. Only pure terror fueled him onward.
Trevor finally cleared the park and tore over concrete, his home now only two blocks away. He saw no sign of the House and even spied a few stray trick-or-treaters — his disdain for others now evaporated. Trevor began to slow somewhat, his breathing rapid. Nearly there he thought, followed by a red rush of anger. Redmond was going to pay for this, for getting him to go to that place. Any thoughts of what his ego had wrought being dismissed. It was all her fault, all —
The House was suddenly in front of him. Unable to swerve in time, Trevor crashed down on the decrepit porch and tried to get up quickly — only to yelp in pain. His right ankle was now twisted. He forced himself to roll off the porch and gazed up at the many windows — now multiple red eyes staring down at him. The front door swung open, the same hellish light bursting from it and almost blinding Trevor. He screamed at his impossible pursuer, and then managed to hobble quickly around to the side — Trevor making the last few yards towards his front gate.
‘I beat you’, he screamed as he collapsed onto his porch, ‘My dad’s going to burn you.’
The House remained on the street for a moment longer, its interior suddenly unlit, before the building vanished entirely. Trevor screamed nonsensically again for a moment, followed by a sudden burst of tears. He didn’t notice the now-gathering crowd at first. Some kids stared, others sniggered and some even cried. Finally noticing his audience, Trevor got up, wiped his eyes, and showed a middle finger. He backed into his home and the door banged shut.
One year later, a devil again walked the Halloween neighborhood. The masked figure suddenly jumped, before it froze before a tall, old house — the building seeming to have suddenly loomed up out of nowhere.
‘You want to check it out?’ said a voice from the darkness.
The devil turned, to see a winged girl in white step out of the shadows.
‘Well,’ said Lucy Redmond, now glasses free and smiling. ‘How about it?’
The devil removed its mask.
‘No way,’ said the boy, his eyes fixed on an upper window. ‘That place is creepy. I think it’s haunted.’
‘Billy,’ came another voice, before a woman dressed as The Bride of Frankenstein appeared. ‘Billy Jones, I told you not to wander off.’
‘Sorry Mom,’ said Billy and replaced his mask. Billy’s mother turned to go and then smiled at Lucy. ‘Nice fairy costume,’ said the lady.
‘Thanks,’ said Lucy, with a smile. ‘Though I’m an angel.’
Billy’s mother shrugged, but smiled back and then disappeared with her son.
‘Well,’ said Lucy, frowning upward. ‘I was an angel.’
The girl looked back at the Barlow House, waved and smiled, and then she suddenly wasn’t there. If anyone else had been around, they might have noticed a brief, gigantic shadow with horns and bat-like wings. They might have also noticed a figure in an upper window of the house. A pale-faced boy in a devil costume, his hands pressing unseen glass and his mouth locked in a silent scream. Both Trevor Donnelly and his now forever home faded away to nothing, just as more trick-or-treaters appeared.
I had the idea for this story a few years ago but didn’t know what to do with it. But when I decided to write a new Medium story for Halloween, the initial idea — a house that haunts, as opposed to a haunted house, suddenly evolved into a plot and so the words flowed. Happy Halloween.
