After midnight in a storm, a couple has a flat tire on a deserted road. With no phone signal, their only hope is the house on the hill.
The idea for this story came about when I read a prompt to write a story about a scary house that wasn’t haunted. I presented a draft to my local writer’s group, and thanks to some excellent feedback, made some changes. This is the story that resulted. I hope you enjoy it!
If you would prefer to listen to the story, click below for the audio version.
The house loomed above us as we ran up the dirt driveway. Lightning flashed, revealing steps up the front, and thunder boomed as we raced to reach the covered porch.
I was grateful for some protection from the blowing rain as David knocked on the wood door. There was no answer, so he pounded again to be heard above the wind.
The door swung open a few inches. He looked around, then pushed it aside and went in. I followed and immediately smelled the stale, damp air that filled the interior.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” David called out as he pushed the front door closed. It creaked and groaned as the wind gusted against it.
The only reply was the echo of his words.
“Hello?” David called again. “We have a flat tire and would like to use your phone.”
We stood and listened. The wind howled, and I felt a breeze across my face. Rain pounded on the metal roof and pinged against the windows. Another flash of lightning illuminated the interior for a few seconds, long enough for me to see that dust covered everything.
“How’s this for an adventure, Jenny?” David asked, shaking the water from his hands.
I glared at him, then heard him fumble along the wall. There was a click of a light switch, but the room remained dark.
“Guess the storm knocked out the electricity,” he said.
“I know I saw a light in here,” I said, tousling my short, blonde hair to help dry it. “Maybe it just went out.”
“This house is up a hill, so in looking at it from the car, you may have seen something reflected.” I felt him move to my side. He wasn’t much taller than me, but it felt good to have him close.
Wiping my hands on my wet dress, I pulled out my phone. “I have just over 20% of my battery left. What about you?”
“I don’t think anyone is here,” David said.
A flash of lightning illuminated the interior for a few seconds, long enough for me to see that dust covered everything. I pulled out my phone and checked the display. “I have just over 20% of my battery left. What about you?”
“What difference does it make? Without a signal, we can’t make a call.”
“We can use them as flashlights.”
David checked his phone. The light illuminated his face, and I saw water drip from his brown beard. “50 percent on mine. And it is 1:00 am. Even with clouds, it should be light in five or six hours.”
A bong sounded down the hall. I jumped and let out a squeal. Another one sounded and I realized it was a clock striking the hour. I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart and counted them.
“The clock struck twelve.” I looked at David. “I thought you said it was 1:00?”
He looked at his phone again. “It is.” He walked over to the clock and shined the light around. “This clock has to be wound every week to keep running.” He looked at me. “Someone has been here recently.”
“So where are they?” I walked over and watched the pendulum swing back and forth, it’s ticktock clearly heard.
“Don’t know,” he replied as he removed his suit jacket, gave it a shake, and hung it on the back of a chair.
I glanced around the room. Shadows cast by the light from his phone spread across the walls and ceiling. “It is creepy in here.”
He looked at me. “You said you wanted something out of the ordinary.”
“Leaving Little Rock at nearly midnight, getting detoured by a wreck on the main highway, and ending up with a flat tire in the middle of nowhere is not what I was talking about.” I grabbed the hem of my dress and wrung out the water. “We could be in a nice hotel right now, not shivering in some old house.”
David looked at his feet. “I knew you weren’t excited about my cousin’s wedding. I thought if we went home tonight, we wouldn’t have to deal with family tomorrow.” He met my eyes. “Sorry.”
I sighed, realizing he tried to do something nice. “I know,” I replied softly. “Let’s see if we can find something to dry off with.”
A bang came from the back of the house, the sound reverberating off the walls.
David and I looked at each other. “You want to check it out?” he asked.
Not really, I thought, but replied, “Sure. Lead the way.”
He turned on his phone’s flashlight and started down the hallway in the direction the sound had come. I hurried to get behind him and grabbed his other hand.
Several heavy wooden doors broke up the long walls of the hall, and the last one on the left was open. The light from the phone revealed an ancient range next to a countertop with a deep sink. Everything looked to be covered in dust and cobwebs.
“Doesn’t look like anyone has been here for a long time,” David said.
“But someone had to wind the clock in the other room,” I replied.
“Likely kids sneaking in and messing around.”
“And winding an old clock?”
David shrugged and moved the light around and paused at another door, the top half filled with windows. We walked toward it and felt a breeze through the broken panes. The door opened a few inches with a gust of wind, then slammed shut as it died.
“That’s probably what we heard,” David said, running his light around the door frame. “This old door doesn’t latch shut, so each time the wind blows, it moves.”
I nodded and looked around the room. A few dishes were on the table, with something tall in the middle of them. “What’s that on the table?”
He shone his light. “Just some plates and cups. And a candle.”
“If we can find matches, we can use the candle instead of draining our phones.”
A thorough investigation of the cabinets and drawers revealed nothing. David reached his hand into a small box hanging on the wall next to the stove.
“Be careful!” I cried out.
He pulled his hand away, then showed me the matches he held. “These old stoves needed a match to light the burners.” He ran one over the countertop, and a flame burst from the tip.
I grabbed the candle from the table and held it under the flame. The wick sputtered, then went out.
“Too much dust.” I wiped off the top of the candle, then David struck a second match. This time, the candle lit and gave the room a warm glow.
“That’s better,” I said.
“Let’s check out another room.” David took the candle and headed for the door.
“Wait, listen!”
We stood, and I listened for what had caught my attention. A few seconds later, a metallic plink sounded. “There it is.”
“Sounds like water dripping, doesn’t it?” David said. “There are sure to be leaks with all this rain. Let’s follow the sound.”
We stepped into the hallway and listened again. The sound seemed to come from upstairs. “Ready?” he asked, looking at me.
I swallowed, then nodded, not about to let silly fears stop me. “I wonder if this place is haunted?”
“Do you really believe in ghosts?”
“I don’t know. There are things that can’t be explained otherwise.”
David shook his head as we stepped on the first stair. It creaked under our weight. He held out the candle, examining the next few steps. “The stairs look to be solid, but hold on to the rail in case they aren’t.”
We ascended slowly, testing each stair before putting out full weight on it. At the top, we paused and listened. The “plink” sounded again from the room directly in front of us.
Entering, David held the candle up. A bathtub was along one wall with a sink on another. A drop of water fell from the ceiling, landing with a plink in the claw-foot tub.
“Just as I thought,” David said, turning his gaze up. “There’s a leak in the roof and it lands in the tub.” He looked back at me. “No ghosts. There is an explanation for everything we’ve encountered.”
“Not quite. What about the light I saw coming from the house?”
“Like I said, probably a reflection, maybe lightning in a mirror.”
“It lasted longer than lightning.”
“As you said, maybe the power went off as we ran up the hill.”
I wasn’t convinced, but followed him to explore the other rooms on the second floor.
They were all about the same size, probably bedrooms, and in one of them stood an iron bed frame that still held an old mattress. I plopped down on it and the metal springs underneath squeaked as a cloud of dust flew up. “What a mess,” I said, waving my hands to clear the air.
David didn’t answer, but held up his hand. “What was that other sound?”
I listened for a few seconds. “I don’t hear anything. Are you trying to scare me?”
“No, I heard something. It sounded like a moan.”
“Like a ghost?”
He gave me a look. “How should I know what a ghost sounds like?”
“You know, like in a movie.”
Before he could reply, an eerie moan floated through the house. I jumped off the bed and hurried to his side, grabbing him around the waist. “Like that?”
“Yes,” he said, putting his arm around me. “I can’t place where it is coming from.”
“It sounded like it came from, well, everywhere.”
“Come on, let’s go back downstairs.” He grabbed my hand, and this time we hurried down the creaking stairs. We headed back to the front room with the clock in it, as another moan echoed through the house.
“It still sounds like it’s coming from all sides.”
“That’s because it is,” David said, walking me over to a wall. “Put your hand on there.”
I did, surprised to feel a breeze. “What’s going on?”
“This house is not insulated, and all the joints have shrunk away from each other. When wind blows, it comes through the spaces, and sounds like a moan.”
As if on cue, another gust of wind blew through, tickling my neck. A shiver ran down my spine and goosebumps popped up along my arms as the moan sounded again. “I guess you are right.” I looked at him. “It must echo through the entire house.”
“It must.” He put the candle on a low table and pulled a couple of padded chairs around it. “We might as well wait out the rain in here. These chairs should block the wind and keep the flame from blowing out.”
I saw melted wax running down the side of the candle. “Will it last until morning?”
He shrugged. “I hope so, but maybe we should try to find more.”
I looked at the cozy arrangement he had created. The thought of curling up in a chair was inviting. However, finding another candle or two meant we would have light until the sun came up, easing my fears. Better to look for more while we had the light from this one.
“There weren’t anymore in the kitchen,” I said.
“Let’s try some of the other rooms down here.” David grabbed the candle and cupped his hand around the flame to protect it. Our footsteps echoed off the wood floor as we made our way down the hall. I heard the water dripping into the bathtub upstairs, although now it sounded more like a small chain hitting against something metallic. “Does that sound different to you?” I asked him.
“What? No, don’t think so.” He paused and looked down the hall. “Let’s check out this room next to the kitchen. Open the door and I’ll shine the light in there.”
I turned the knob, but the door wouldn’t open. “It must be stuck.” I jiggled the knob, then leaned against the door. “I can’t get it open.”
David handed me the candle. “Let me try.” He grabbed onto the knob and put his shoulder against the door. Before he could put any weight behind it, the door swung open, and he stumbled inside. “That was weird. It wasn’t stuck for me.”
“I must have loosened it up for you,” I joked.
“As if,” David replied. “In all our years together, you’ve never been able to loosen a jar lid.” He looked around the room. “Jenny, check this out.”
I walked in, the light from the candle revealing a room lined with bookcases packed with books of all sizes.
“Wow,” I said. “This is amazing. Look at all the books.”
“And there are several large candles in here. They should last for hours.”
I walked over and lifted a dusty book off the table. Inside were pages filled with delicate handwriting, the ink faded with age.
“Look at this, David. It’s a journal of some sort.”
“What’s in it?”
I read from a page. “I miss my dear William so much. He works hard, providing a home for us. I appreciate all he does, but without children, it is lonely here. I would rather spend time with him than have all the fine things he buys for me.”
“Must have been the lady of the house,” David said. “Is there a date anywhere in there?”
I flipped through several pages. “Only the month and day, no year.” I read another passage about her sadness over not being able to have children, then closed the book and put it back on the table.
“Do you want to take it to the other room to read?”
I shook my head. “No. It feels like I am intruding on someone’s personal thoughts.”
He grabbed two candles, and we went back down the hall. Setting the candles on the table, he lit one.
“It’s amazing how cozy the room feels with the extra light,” he said, taking a seat in one chair.
I brushed the dust off the other chair and sat down. He was right. The second candle added light and a sense of warmth to the room. I noticed shapes moving across the walls, then realized it must be the shadows created by the flickering flames.
“We might as well settle in until daylight. Then I can change the tire and we’ll be on our way.”
“Will the storm will be over by then?”
“It should be.” He glanced out the window. “In fact, it sounds like it is already calming down.”
We began talking about things we hadn’t in a long time. It made me realize that even though we spent a lot of time together, we didn’t talk about much beyond the mundane things. This trip to the wedding was our first time away from home in months. We resolved to get out and about more.
The clock down the hall struck the hour, again 12 times.
“I wonder if it strikes 12 every hour?” I asked.
David shrugged. “I can look at it if you want me to.”
“No,” I said, taking his hand in mine. “It is much nicer having you beside me.”
We picked up our conversation and made plans to get away for another weekend within the next two months. This time we would pick a place, book a room, then spend a couple of days wandering the area to see what adventures we might find.
We also agreed we needed a regular date night, where we spent a couple of hours just talking about our hopes and dreams.
“So next Friday will be our first date night?” David asked, a smile on his face.
“Yes,” I agreed. “You choose where we go this time.”
He squeezed my hand as we watched the candle burn.
I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, a light was shining on my face. I opened my eyes and saw faint rays of sunlight streaming in.
“Good morning,” David said from the chair beside me.
“Good morning,” I said, raising my arms to stretch. “Ouch!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Something is poking my side.” I ran my hand around the chair, my fingers grasping what felt like a book. I pulled it out, stunned to see the journal from the other room. “How did this get in here?”
“What is it?” David asked, rubbing his eyes.
“The journal I looked at last night.”
“Did you bring it in here?”
“No. I left it on the table in there. Remember, I didn’t feel right about reading it.”
David took the bound journal from me and flipped through the pages. “Here’s the last entry. It is from November 1st, but like you said, no year. And listen to this. ‘William is home more now, and I am so grateful. Many people don’t understand how I can be happy spending so much time with my husband, but for me it is such a pleasure.’”
I stood and walked to the window. “I wonder what happened after that? And why was the journal left on the table? It seems to have been there for years.”
David closed it and set it aside. “A mystery we will probably never solve.”
I looked around the room. The tall windows let in the morning light, bringing out the details of the space. Ornate wood moldings topped the walls, and gray marble surrounded the fireplace. Whoever owned it had been wealthy.
“This must have been some house years ago. What a shame it hasn’t been kept up.”
“I know. It would be a project, for sure, but there is a lot of potential here,” David said, walking to the front door and opening it.
I followed him onto the front porch. “Don’t even think about that sort of project.”
“Not the adventure you are looking for?” he asked with a grin.
We stood and surveyed the land. The house sat on top of a hill, but the view down to the road was blocked by trees on the property and a low fog that had settled in. I could just make out our car on the road, relieved to know it was still there. “Ready to change the tire?”
David took my hand. “Yes. And ready to go home, take a shower, and have a long nap.”
The walk down the hill took longer than our run up it the night before, partly because we had to step around the mud puddles in the dirt driveway.
“You were right,” I said, squeezing his hand. “We ended up having an adventure, after all.”
He chuckled. “And now we have quite a story to tell about spending the night in a haunted house.”
“Yeah, except it wasn’t haunted. Just an old house with threadbare walls and a leaky roof.”
“We don’t need to tell that part,” he said with a laugh.
At the end of the driveway, we turned and saw a pickup truck coming to a stop behind our car. A man got out, tall with broad shoulders, and waved to us. “Morning folks. You look like you could use some help.”
“Good morning. I would appreciate help to change the tire,” David said as he approached the man. “I’m David and this is my wife, Jenny.”
“Chuck,” the man replied as he nodded in my direction.
“That was some storm last night,” I said. “I can’t believe we had a flat in the middle of it.”
“You’ve been here all night?” He looked at us, then toward the house. “Don’t tell me you went up to the house?”
I nodded. “We couldn’t get a signal on our phones to call for help. I thought I saw a light on in there and we went to see if there was a phone we could use.”
“But the house was empty,” David added as he opened the trunk and pulled out the jack. “Guess we saw lightning reflect off a mirror or something.”
Chuck let out a low whistle. “I am impressed, folks. You have more courage than most.”
“Courage? For what?” I asked.
“I take it you aren’t from around here?”
“No,” David said. “We were driving home from a wedding in Little Rock and were detoured off the interstate by a wreck.” He removed the spare tire and put it on the ground.
Chuck took the jack and nodded toward the house. “That’s the Grassley mansion. The old man built it and lived in it until he died, oh, must have been forty years ago now.” He kneeled and placed the jack under the car.
“It’s too bad it has rundown. You can tell it was a lovely house in its day,” I said.
“Wasn’t there family who would take it over, or sell it to someone who would keep it up?” David asked.
Chuck pumped the jack, and the flat tire slowly lifted from the ground. “The Grassley’s never had children, so the Mrs. put all her attention on the house and William was happy to pay for it. It was a showpiece.” He loosened the lug nuts and removed them with calloused fingers.
“William,” I murmured and looked at David. “That was the name mentioned in the journal. It must have been Mrs. Grassley’s.”
“May have been,” Chuck replied. “After Amanda Grassley got sick and died, the old man shut himself inside and refused to let anyone in. The story is he left everything as it was when she passed and told people he wanted to be alone with her.”
David and I looked at each other. “Wait. Wasn’t she buried?” I asked.
“Of yes, a fine plot in the town cemetery.” Chuck pulled off the flat tire. “William told everyone that her spirit lived on in the house and took care of him. And according to the stories I’ve heard, he must have joined her when he died.”
A chill ran down my spine. “What stories?”
“Oh, things like lights shining and chains rattling, and ghostly figures moving through the rooms. Some even say that doors open by themselves.”
I grabbed David’s arm.
“But we didn’t see or hear anything that we couldn’t explain,” he said. “There was a drip in the bathtub upstairs from the leaky roof, and a moaning of the wind blowing through the walls and windows.”
“But what about the journal that moved rooms during the night? And the clock?” I asked. “It was wound and kept time, but every hour it struck twelve.”
“William gave Amanda that clock as an anniversary gift.” Chuck paused for a second. “You know, William said she died as the clock struck midnight.” David rolled the spare tire over and they lifted it into place.
“I won’t go near the house,” Chuck continued, “But every ghost hunter that visited has certified it as being haunted.” He began tightening the lug bolts.
I looked up the hill to the house, a weathered remnant of its previous glory. I wondered about what we experienced in the dark. Was it as easily explained as David said, or was there something otherworldly going on?
He leaned over and wrapped his arm around me. “I guess we had more adventure than we realized.”
We thanked Chuck for his help and loaded the jack and flat tire into the truck. As we pulled away, I glanced up the hill. It must have been the fog, but I could have sworn I saw the ghostly figures of a man and woman standing on the front porch waving to us.
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