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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1390044
A tale about what can happen in your own house...
One spring morning, while the sun glared through the musty glass on the window, the telephone rang. A loud high pitched ring came crashing through the manor, waking all who chose to sleep late. The occupants of number one thirty seven Cornbridge ave. were startled at the early wake up call; it was still only nine in the morning.
Garlgow, the butler if you wish, answered the phone on the fourth ring. He cleared his throat with a heavy cough then said, quite mysteriously, “Kromwell Manor.”
“If I could please speak with the head of the house.” The voice on the other end requested.
“I am quite sorry, but he is indisposed at the moment.” Garlgow replied calmly. “If I could take a message please.” And he waited, and waited, and waited.
There was no reply. No sound of breathing; there was nothing.
Garlgow hung the phone up and went back to his corridor in the back of the manor. This was the place that the servants occupied; their one and only space where the Kromwell family never came.
It was not that the Kromwell’s were awful people, they just did not know any better. Mr. Kromwell, he was born into money, and lots of money. His mother was some famous singer from Spain, though she died just after giving birth to her second child. His father was rich for reasons his son never knew, and never wanted to know. He married his childhood sweetheart, though that never worked. She left him for some doctor just after their third year of marriage. This destroyed Mr. Kromwell more then he would ever let anyone know.
A few years later he married a wealthy socialite, just because she already knew what it was like having money, and knew he would have no worries with her. She gave him three children, Lorna, Maya and little Ralphie. He loved his children with all of his heart, even if he never showed it.
Lorna was home from school this weekend for Easter break, so that made the house full. Maya was curled up under her covers, trying hard to fall back asleep and waste more of the day away. Little Ralphie was sitting in the living room, staring at a mark on the wall that was not there the night before. Surly his mother would blame him for making it, though he knew there was no way he could.
When he heard Garlgow close the door to the servant’s room, he marched over to the mark and pushed it again, (for he had done it a moment before, but the phone ringing made him jump up and run away.)
RING, RING! Went the phone again.
Ralphie jumped back once again and landed with a thud on the ground.
“Oi!” he yelled as his bum smashed against the hardwood floor.
He could hear Garlgow coming down the hall once more, heading for the phone. He listened closely to what he was saying.
“As I stated before, I will have to take a message for the, as you say, the head of house.” He paused here and waited, and waited, and waited. Again there was no response. Garlgow was beginning to become irritated. There was one thing he truly hated and that was pranks. He slammed the phone down a little harder this time and pulled the plug out of the wall. “That should quiet it until they waken.”
He marched down the hallway back to his room, to do whatever the servants did behind that door.
Ralphie’s mind was racing; was he the one causing the phone to ring or was it just coincidence? He could hear the sound of his parent’s footsteps on the second level. The second phone call had caused them to climb out of bed. Ralphie ran out the back door and into his tree house, he did not want to be there when his mother saw the mark on the wall.
After fifteen minutes and no yelling out the back door for him, Ralphie decided to go back into the house.
“Oh Ralphie honey.” His mother said as he entered the garden room. “Did the phone wake you too or were you already up?”
She did not see it yet.
“No, I’ve been in the back all morning.” He replied, joining his parents at the table. He saw a strange look in Garlgow’s eyes, he knew he was lying.
His parents seemed to ignore him after that. They went about their business for the day, which was pretty much nothing at all. His father sat at his desk, though he would only be playing solitaire on the computer. His mother pretended to be busy, though when no one was looking she would read her romance novels and pretend she was the maiden.
His sisters stayed in bed till well after noon. They emerged all blurry eyed and curious to whom the morning caller was. All responded the same way though, “we have no clue.”
Right before dinner was to be served, Ralphie made his way into the living room once again; his eyes were glued to the mark on the wall. Now, however, it seemed to have grown into what could only be described as two hands reaching down. Curiosity was taking over him now; he had to go and see it up close.
What was this mark? It could be a water stain that looks like something; it could be anything.
Ralphie slowly inched over to the mark, cautiously reaching for the wall. His fingers stretched out, almost touching, when the phone rang once again.
Garlgow answered the same way he did the other two times, however, this time he gave the receiver to Mr. Kromwell.
“Hello?” he said, taking the phone away from Garlgow as if he had no right to listen to what was about to be discussed.
“Am I speaking to the head of the manor?” the voice on the other end asked.
“You are. May I ask who I am speaking with?” he replied coldly. Mr. Kromwell hated small talk; he would rather get to the point right away.
“I called twice this morning for you. The first was a warning, the second was a threat,” the voice told him.
“A threat? You dare threaten me?” Mr. Kromwell said with power. “How dare you call my house and threaten me!”
“Dear Sir, I did not, however, threaten you, for you never received my calls.” The voice said, still as calmly as it had been.
A loud and horrible scream came from the living room, who it was, Mr. Kromwell could not tell.
“You should have answered my calls Mr. Kromwell, or we never would have resorted to this.”
Mr. Kromwell dropped the phone and ran into the living room, where a nightmarish vision lay before him.
Mrs. Kromwell was on her knees, screaming at the sight. Lorna was pulling on Maya’s legs, for Maya was pulling as hard as she could to save her little brother.
Ralphie was being pulled through what could only be a portal, and there, on the other side was a horrific demon like creature pulling in return. If the girls did not let go, they would surly be pulled through with their brother.
Mr. Kromwell ran forward and tried to pull his children free, but before he knew what happened, he tripped over his wife and fell head first into the portal. The demon let go of Ralphie and grabbed a hold of Mr. Kromwell.
The last sight little Ralphie saw was the bright glare of the demons sharp teeth, heading straight for their fathers’ head.
After the portal had closed and the wall looked normal, everyone stood as if nothing had happened. Everyone that is, except Ralphie.
© Copyright 2008 E A Dillon (eadillon at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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