BlueEyedLady
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2003
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OOC: Been role playing with some wonderful people on some threads with some heavy duty plots and I thought I would take some time to play a lighter role.
I was thinking of a story about a girl in college who takes a dare to go into a supposidly haunted house which had been the property of a wealthy and eccentric elderly man who has died. The man had gotten the reputation for being a loner and, as these things go, stories popped up about him and they grew until, after his death, it is said that the house was haunted.
Unknown to my char and her friends who put the dare to her in a moment of drunken relvery, the grandson of the man who died has inherited the place and has come to take inventory, etc and has decided to spend the night in the house instead of getting a motel room. And, as you might guess, my char is caught in the act of breaking and entering.
Knowing that her scholorship to college will be in danger if she is arrested, she begs him to consider an alternative to calling the police. What that altrenative is will be reached IC by myself and whatever male would be willing to pick up the role of the grandson.
IC: I took another drink of beer and peered bleerily around at my companions. How many cans of the stuff had I had? I had lost count. But who cared? It was the weekend, the mid finals were done and we had all passed. Some had just squeeked by but they were still passing grades. In celebration, I and some of my college friends had decided that a beach party was in order. The beach party soon became a drinking bash with most of the guys gettng into a macho contest while the girls sat around and bet on one or the other and laughed.
When they couldn't see the glasses or cans of alcohol clear enough to make it to their mouths, they called a halt and sat around the bonfire someone had built. Damned if I could remember who or when. Then, as things usually go in these situations, the guys had pulled out the ghost stories to try and scare the girls, who were too drunk to be scared anyway, and get them to snuggle close and, maybe, go from there.
As ghost stories go in this town, talk turned eventually to Old Man Withers who owned the huge house on the edge of town. Didn't ghosts always live in old houses on the edge of town? I rolled my eyes and then tried to regain my balance before I fell off the deadwood log as I was unbalanced by the change of eyesight.
"It's true," Kevin was saying in a spooky voice which had most of the girls giggling,"He haunts that damn house. I've seen his ghost in the window at midnight. He stares out with that mean look he always gave anyone who approached his property and you could swear that he was going to come down and chase after you!"
Mike snorted and slapped Kevin on his back, unbalancing him and making him fall on his knees from the log he was sitting on.
"You never went near that house," His roommate said,"I saw you turn white as a sheet a mile from it and turn tale the day you came back and said that you had been there. I was right behind you, remember."
On of the girls, a new one on campus and, I thought, from out-of-town, was the only one looking scared.
"Is it true that he grabbed kids who came onto his land and chained them up in the basement?" She said in a small whisper.
Kevin, getting to his feet and brushing himself off, glared at Mike and then nodded, seeing a chance to make it with the new girl.
"Yup," He said, relishing the tale. "And he would only feed them bread and water and make them work for him until they collapsed from exahustion and hunger. Then he would feed them to his dogs who he had trained to attack kids on sight."
"Bullshit!"
Had that come from me? What the hell, I didn't believe in that crap anyway.
The others turned to me and I pointed with a waivering finger at them all.
"Bullshit," I repeated with a smile,"Stories and...and...other stuff." I wished I could think straight enough to form a better argument. "He was an old man who hated people. That's it. And he's dead. Which means there's no one and nothing in that house but old furniture and stuff covered under blankets. The family didn't even care enough about him to come to see him or get his stuff. It's going to rot there just like Old Man Withers."
I nodded, knowingly, my long chestnut hair falling in my eyes and sat down on the sand heavily, the log under me suddenly disappearing as I tried to make my point with the heavy headshake.
Mike leaned forward and looked at me with a grin. Oh shit! What did he have in mind? The group practical joker and tormenter, he always had something up his sleeve to make the others wince and throw things at him.
"Okay, Deb," He said, his grin widening,"If you're so sure that there's nothing there, than why don't you go in there yourself?"
"Yeah," Said Kevin, taking up his friend's cause,"Go in there and prove it to us."
Sherry, the one person that I thought was my friend piped in. "But, how will we know if she really goes in there? She could pretend to and no one would know."
"Thanks, Sherry," I thought with a scowl,"I'll return the favor some day."
"We'll be watching," Mike said with a shrug and then Kevin piped in. "Nuh huh! That place has a long, winding driveway and I'm not going any closer to that place than I have to. Sherry's right. She oculd go up the driveway, stand there, come back and tell us she went in and we wouldn't know."
I started to protest but Mike was speaking again. "Okay, the house is full of stuff like Deb said. All she has to do is go in, get something of the Old Man's and come back. It has to be something that she can only get while inside the house though so she can't cheat."
Again I tried to protest but Sherry cut in again. "Ohhh! How about a picture or a candlestick or something?"
"I don't care what," Mike said with a shrug,"But I bet she is too chicken to do it."
Okay, I didn't want to do this in the first place but the alchol had pretty much dulled any senses I had left to make a good decision. So I made a bad one.
"You're on!" I said and stumbled to my feet and made my way to one of the cars, got in, realized it wasn't mine and then got out.
"Woah," Mike said coming up behind me,"You can't drive like that."
"You can't drive when you're sober," I retorted to the giggles of the girls,"So whose going to do it?"
"I will," Volunteered the new girl and I added her to my list of people to get back at once I was sober.
So it was that we all came to be at the gates of Wither's house. The place was dark and, I had to admit, spooky, but I wasn't going to let this bunch see that I was even the tiniest bit scared. Bravely, if unsteadily, I walked up the drive, leaving them behind and made my way to the cellar door which most of us knew had had the lock broken a long time ago when some kids tried to get in and steal some things after Withers died. They were caught and, as far as we knew, no one had tried again. But the lock hadn't been replaced and I found myself in the basement in short order.
Hanging onto the handrail, I made my way down stairs without killing myself and then up the stairs to the main house. Pushing the door open, I peered out into complete darkness. Taking a deep breath and trying to get my head to stop swimming, I entered the place and looked around.
Sure enough there were paintings, furniture and other things covered by dust clothes. Nothing to be afraid of I told myself. Still, it was on tiptoe that I went across the room to the mantelpiece and looked for a photograph. There was none. Damn! No candle holders either. Leaning against the mantlepiece, I looked around. There were lots of heavy furniture but no little pieces that I could carry easily. Maybe someone had come and taken things after those guys who broke in.
Then I saw it on the floor, the glint of metal in the moonlight coming in from the window. Going over and picking it up, I looked at it, turning it over in my hands. It was an old fashioned pocket watch andl, when I opened it, I could see faint engraving in it. I thought I made out some initials and the last one looked like it was a 'W' so it probably belonged to the old man.
With a girn, I clutched my prize and started back out the way I had come. Only I had gotten turned around and stumbled over a footstool that crashed as I hit the floor with a curse.
Scrambling to my feet the best that I could, I made to run out the front door when I head something overhead from the second floor. It was a creaking and sliding noise. My face when pale and I could feel myself start to shake. Maybe the guys were right, maybe the place was haunted and I had just disturbed the ghost of Old Man Withers!
Making my stiff legs move, I was halfway to the front door when I heard a voice behind me.
"Stop right there!" It commanded and I felt ice running down my spine,"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?!"
I was thinking of a story about a girl in college who takes a dare to go into a supposidly haunted house which had been the property of a wealthy and eccentric elderly man who has died. The man had gotten the reputation for being a loner and, as these things go, stories popped up about him and they grew until, after his death, it is said that the house was haunted.
Unknown to my char and her friends who put the dare to her in a moment of drunken relvery, the grandson of the man who died has inherited the place and has come to take inventory, etc and has decided to spend the night in the house instead of getting a motel room. And, as you might guess, my char is caught in the act of breaking and entering.
Knowing that her scholorship to college will be in danger if she is arrested, she begs him to consider an alternative to calling the police. What that altrenative is will be reached IC by myself and whatever male would be willing to pick up the role of the grandson.
IC: I took another drink of beer and peered bleerily around at my companions. How many cans of the stuff had I had? I had lost count. But who cared? It was the weekend, the mid finals were done and we had all passed. Some had just squeeked by but they were still passing grades. In celebration, I and some of my college friends had decided that a beach party was in order. The beach party soon became a drinking bash with most of the guys gettng into a macho contest while the girls sat around and bet on one or the other and laughed.
When they couldn't see the glasses or cans of alcohol clear enough to make it to their mouths, they called a halt and sat around the bonfire someone had built. Damned if I could remember who or when. Then, as things usually go in these situations, the guys had pulled out the ghost stories to try and scare the girls, who were too drunk to be scared anyway, and get them to snuggle close and, maybe, go from there.
As ghost stories go in this town, talk turned eventually to Old Man Withers who owned the huge house on the edge of town. Didn't ghosts always live in old houses on the edge of town? I rolled my eyes and then tried to regain my balance before I fell off the deadwood log as I was unbalanced by the change of eyesight.
"It's true," Kevin was saying in a spooky voice which had most of the girls giggling,"He haunts that damn house. I've seen his ghost in the window at midnight. He stares out with that mean look he always gave anyone who approached his property and you could swear that he was going to come down and chase after you!"
Mike snorted and slapped Kevin on his back, unbalancing him and making him fall on his knees from the log he was sitting on.
"You never went near that house," His roommate said,"I saw you turn white as a sheet a mile from it and turn tale the day you came back and said that you had been there. I was right behind you, remember."
On of the girls, a new one on campus and, I thought, from out-of-town, was the only one looking scared.
"Is it true that he grabbed kids who came onto his land and chained them up in the basement?" She said in a small whisper.
Kevin, getting to his feet and brushing himself off, glared at Mike and then nodded, seeing a chance to make it with the new girl.
"Yup," He said, relishing the tale. "And he would only feed them bread and water and make them work for him until they collapsed from exahustion and hunger. Then he would feed them to his dogs who he had trained to attack kids on sight."
"Bullshit!"
Had that come from me? What the hell, I didn't believe in that crap anyway.
The others turned to me and I pointed with a waivering finger at them all.
"Bullshit," I repeated with a smile,"Stories and...and...other stuff." I wished I could think straight enough to form a better argument. "He was an old man who hated people. That's it. And he's dead. Which means there's no one and nothing in that house but old furniture and stuff covered under blankets. The family didn't even care enough about him to come to see him or get his stuff. It's going to rot there just like Old Man Withers."
I nodded, knowingly, my long chestnut hair falling in my eyes and sat down on the sand heavily, the log under me suddenly disappearing as I tried to make my point with the heavy headshake.
Mike leaned forward and looked at me with a grin. Oh shit! What did he have in mind? The group practical joker and tormenter, he always had something up his sleeve to make the others wince and throw things at him.
"Okay, Deb," He said, his grin widening,"If you're so sure that there's nothing there, than why don't you go in there yourself?"
"Yeah," Said Kevin, taking up his friend's cause,"Go in there and prove it to us."
Sherry, the one person that I thought was my friend piped in. "But, how will we know if she really goes in there? She could pretend to and no one would know."
"Thanks, Sherry," I thought with a scowl,"I'll return the favor some day."
"We'll be watching," Mike said with a shrug and then Kevin piped in. "Nuh huh! That place has a long, winding driveway and I'm not going any closer to that place than I have to. Sherry's right. She oculd go up the driveway, stand there, come back and tell us she went in and we wouldn't know."
I started to protest but Mike was speaking again. "Okay, the house is full of stuff like Deb said. All she has to do is go in, get something of the Old Man's and come back. It has to be something that she can only get while inside the house though so she can't cheat."
Again I tried to protest but Sherry cut in again. "Ohhh! How about a picture or a candlestick or something?"
"I don't care what," Mike said with a shrug,"But I bet she is too chicken to do it."
Okay, I didn't want to do this in the first place but the alchol had pretty much dulled any senses I had left to make a good decision. So I made a bad one.
"You're on!" I said and stumbled to my feet and made my way to one of the cars, got in, realized it wasn't mine and then got out.
"Woah," Mike said coming up behind me,"You can't drive like that."
"You can't drive when you're sober," I retorted to the giggles of the girls,"So whose going to do it?"
"I will," Volunteered the new girl and I added her to my list of people to get back at once I was sober.
So it was that we all came to be at the gates of Wither's house. The place was dark and, I had to admit, spooky, but I wasn't going to let this bunch see that I was even the tiniest bit scared. Bravely, if unsteadily, I walked up the drive, leaving them behind and made my way to the cellar door which most of us knew had had the lock broken a long time ago when some kids tried to get in and steal some things after Withers died. They were caught and, as far as we knew, no one had tried again. But the lock hadn't been replaced and I found myself in the basement in short order.
Hanging onto the handrail, I made my way down stairs without killing myself and then up the stairs to the main house. Pushing the door open, I peered out into complete darkness. Taking a deep breath and trying to get my head to stop swimming, I entered the place and looked around.
Sure enough there were paintings, furniture and other things covered by dust clothes. Nothing to be afraid of I told myself. Still, it was on tiptoe that I went across the room to the mantelpiece and looked for a photograph. There was none. Damn! No candle holders either. Leaning against the mantlepiece, I looked around. There were lots of heavy furniture but no little pieces that I could carry easily. Maybe someone had come and taken things after those guys who broke in.
Then I saw it on the floor, the glint of metal in the moonlight coming in from the window. Going over and picking it up, I looked at it, turning it over in my hands. It was an old fashioned pocket watch andl, when I opened it, I could see faint engraving in it. I thought I made out some initials and the last one looked like it was a 'W' so it probably belonged to the old man.
With a girn, I clutched my prize and started back out the way I had come. Only I had gotten turned around and stumbled over a footstool that crashed as I hit the floor with a curse.
Scrambling to my feet the best that I could, I made to run out the front door when I head something overhead from the second floor. It was a creaking and sliding noise. My face when pale and I could feel myself start to shake. Maybe the guys were right, maybe the place was haunted and I had just disturbed the ghost of Old Man Withers!
Making my stiff legs move, I was halfway to the front door when I heard a voice behind me.
"Stop right there!" It commanded and I felt ice running down my spine,"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?!"
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