He Should Have Been Afraid…

He’d heard all the stories and rumors surrounding the house where the Morris family was killed. Brin wasn’t superstitious about anything having been raised on a really no-nonsense Middle West farm. His parents were God-fearing folks but they never put any stock in the occult realm.

The house itself was gorgeous…just what he and his wife Wilma always dreamed of owning. It was rated at 10th place on their wish list because they knew they’d never be able to afford a house like that. It was number one as their heart’s desire. A three-story affair, it had 20 rooms not including closets or bathrooms. It was the kind of home that would draw the interest of anyone not familiar with its history. The price was practically a give-away. Located in a semi-rural area, it stood atop a small rise that afforded a wonderful view of the entire valley.

After speaking to the realtor, Brin drove out to see the inside of the house. It was about noon when he arrived there. Wilma was supposed to meet him at the house about 12:30 pm after her beauty appointment was finished. Eager to explore it all, Brin decided not to wait until Wilma arrived. He could scout it out and serve as a kind of guide when Wilma got there.

Walking up the front step, he suddenly felt a wave of dizzyness pass over him. He stopped for just a moment but the feeling passed so he just shrugged it off. Turning the key in the door produced a little tingling sensation but he wasn’t attuned to paranormal experiences and walked on in without giving it a second thought. The inside was as stunning as the outside. The place was filled with beautiful antique furniture that was worth the selling price by itself. Brin couldn’t believe their good fortune.

The descending staircase was especially lovely ending in a large chamber lit by an immense chandelier. It reminded him of one he’d seen in a movie once. Walking to the second floor, he looked inside the first room he came to…it was elegantly furnished and struck him as the most comfortable bedroom he’d ever seen. Peering into the next room, Brin saw a reflection of himself in an antique wardrobe cabinet. As he started to turn, he realized that the image was not exactly of himself. It wore the same face and clothes he did but the expression on the face was definitely not his.

The apparition seemed to be surprised to see him but the surprise on it’s face immediately faded as it seemed to arrive at some new understanding. In it’s place grew a sinister and even maniacal look. Before Brim could react, the ghost just gave him an ok sign, turned and passed through the wall. Staggering back from the scene, Brim turned and ran down the hall to exit the building but found that the staircase was no longer there.

Slowing a moment to catch his breath and rethink the situation, Brim felt overwhelmed…What’s going on here?, he thought. I must be dreaming! He shook himself and slapped his face in an effort wake up. Nothing changed. Brim turned back the way he had come and felt great relief when he arrived at the beautiful staircase again. Must have taken a wrong turn somehow, he reasoned. Starting down the stairs, he had to grab onto the banister to support himself. Hanging from a rope stretched from the chandelier was the phantom that appeared to be himself.

Brim descended the stairs to stand looking up at the figure. If it was staged, it sure looked genuine to him. The eyes were bulging and the swollen dark tongue of the hanged man were enough to convince Brim. It’s face was twisted in anguish. Before he could scream or turn to escape, movement caught his eye at his level. A ring of children were dancing around him and he could vaguely hear singing. A nightmare beyond belief was his…each child had dark circles under their eyes and blood dripped down their dresses from gaping cuts on their necks. Brim knelt to the floor and folded his arms and hands over his head. He began to moan as the circle tightened around him…he passed out.

“Brim…Brim…it’s me honey”, called out Brim’s pretty wife. “Brim…anyone? Is anyone there?”, inquired Wilma. She stood in the doorway of the massive house and stared into the exquisite interior. It was quiet as a graveyard at midnight. Feeling a certain premonition, Wilma began to step back and actually closed the front door to stand on the porch. She walked around back but found no one. Returning to the front door, Wilma sighed under her breath, “I can’t believe myself…such a beautiful house, what am I afraid of?”

As Wilma walked in, she soon found the beautiful staircase and climbed to the second floor calling, “Brim…BRIM…it’s me honey.” Finding no one, Wilma continued to the third floor and called out in a shaky voice, “Brim! Brim!…ANYONE!!” The lighting was dim and she didn’t notice the movement in the shadows as her killer rushed from behind and struck her repeatedly with a piece of pipe.

Hours after Wilma had met her fate, Brim woke in a magnificent bed chamber. He was struck initially by its incredible beauty but immediately the memories of his last experiences crashed through. He began to quiver as terror’s hands tore at his mind. Looking quickly about him, Brim found nothing of consequence but innately sensed evil watching him. Getting to his feet, Brim straightened his clothes and grasped the antique doorknob to exit the room. The knob turned but the door would not open.

Brim torn at the door putting all his weight and strength into making the door open but it stubbornly refused his commands. As he finally gave up and dropped his hands, the door with a will of its own eerily opened wide. Brim dashed through the opening like a track runner but stopped short of a banister that cordoned off a fall to the floor three stories below. Feeling the heavy weight of crushing fear, Brim walked cautiously to the staircase. No longer appreciating anything about the house, Brim felt he was trapped in a Bram Stoker novel. He slowly descended the stairs to the second floor without event. Hoping against hope for an escape, Brim began to take the stairs two at a time racing against the devil. He tried to stop suddenly and fell the remainder of the staircase when he glimpsed a body lying at the base of the stairs directly under the sparkling chandelier.

His first thought was another apparition was making it’s presence known. Struggling to his hands and knees, Brim crawled to the limp contorted figure. Somehow it had a familiar look to it and his brain began to sort through possibilities. Gently grasping an arm that covered the lifeless face of the figure, he searched for a pulse. As his finger pressed over the radial artery, he found no life but instant recognition flooded his mind as he saw the wedding bands on his wife’s finger. In desperate sorrow, Brim pulled Wilma into his arms and rocked her moaning, “Wilma…Wilma…oh, Wilma.” Tears trickled down his face as his heart began to break.


He didn’t know or care how long he sat like that, just rocking Wilma and whispering words of love and sadness. It could have been even days that passed but Brim took no notice. Slowly, but surely madness became the soothing balm that eased Brim’s pain. Arranging Wilma in a comfortable position on the floor, Brim pulled a chair under the chandelier. She looked as if she were merely sleeping, waiting for him to awaken her. He didn’t notice the sound of children’s singing as he found the rope already hanging from the chandelier as if specially prepared for him. Slipping the noose around his neck, Brim whispered, “I’m coming my darling”, and stepped off of the chair.

Brim rejoined Wilma and they did live happily ever after in death with the children who had died so long ago in the mansion. They found they were much happier in death than they ever were in life...

“Honey, could you run up to the bedroom to bring a pillow down for me,” asked Wilma in a sweet voice as she stretched out on the antique sofa in the grand living room. “Anything for you, my Dearest,” smiled Brim as he ascended the staircase. Entering the bedroom, he hesitated at the antique wardrobe closet thinking he might put on the smoking vest he’d found there the previous evening. Before he could open the cabinet, Brim heard a door opening behind him. Turning to see who it was, Brim was very surprised to see a man who appeared to be himself standing in the doorway. Brim’s look of surprise quickly became a quite look of understanding. Madness suddenly twisted Brim’s face into a maniacal smile. Displaying an ok sign, Brim turned and passed through the wall!