The Willis House
Morgan Wright
Class of 2019
Ariana jumped as something creaked
behind her, the faint flashlight beam barely
illuminating the dark hallway.
“Why did I take this dare? Everyone knows
on Halloween the monsters are awake in the
Willis House,” she muttered, clutching the
flashlight.
The smell of damp, rotting wood was fresh
in the air. She started as a flash of lightning
illuminated the room for a brief second,
followed by a booming crash. She was ready
for the next flash, which revealed a pale,
leering face. Ariana screamed, dropping the
flashlight. The bulb flickered for a moment,
then blinked out of existence, leaving Ariana
in total darkness.
A soft sobbing came out of one room. As
Ariana stooped to pick up the flashlight, it
had disappeared.
She whirled around as the sound of a knife
against stone emanated from a room behind
her. Ariana backed into a wall as a scream
followed a maniacal cackle. Something was
out there. For a brief moment, she wondered
if she would ever come back.
“Ok. Ok. You just have to go up to the room
at the end of the hall and open the window,”
she said, trying to calm down.
A rhythmic chanting rose up from the
basement. Unable to resist the curiosity,
she inched toward the stairs. They were
fairly quiet as she descended, considering
the house was rumored to be hundreds of
years old. At the bottom, a doorway shone
with light. Ariana stepped softly towards it.
When she arrived, she saw people with hoods
walking in a circle around some kind of altar
covered in candles. Only, they weren’t really
walking. They were gliding, as they had no
feet and no hands. They were all joined at the
wrists.
One of the chanters on the farthest side
faced her. His face was boney and long. It had
no nose, and the mouth was so disfigured,
18
the features barely recognizable. She
couldn’t even tell if he was a boy or girl. The
figure took notice of her, raising it’s stumps
where hands should be. As if in response, the
chanting rose, summoning a howling wind
that nipped at her heels as she fled up the
stairs.
She headed towards where the stairs started.
Creak. Creak. As she ran up them, the wind
died down, but the chanting continued.
Maybe the house really was haunted.
She shivered as she got to the top of the
stairs, the remains of the cold wind raising
goosebumps on her skin. It felt as if icy claws
were running down her spine.
Something clenched her foot as she
stepped into the hallway. She screamed, and
she thrashed about, back pedalling furiously.
She felt cold, lifeless arms embraced her as
she backed into something.
She choked on her scream when she felt an
icy coldness seeping into her, sucking the life
and heat out of her body. She felt her hands
go numb. That’s when she broke free, racing
down the hall, oblivious to her surroundings
and resisting the urge to turn back.
She stopped, panting before a closed
door with a sliver of light slipping out of
the bottom. She rushed in, thinking only of
getting away from that thing’s clutches, not
of where she was going.
The room was filled with a flickering green
light provided by a fire dimmed by a boiling
cauldron and torches on the wall. Two figures
hovered over the cauldron, turning when
she entered. They wore long, flowing robes,
but their faces were what drew Ariana’s
attention.
Their faces were hideous. Lined and
sagging. They had long noses. Their hands
were shriveled with long, curving fingernails.
In unison, their faces contorted in what was
supposed to be a smile.
“Come here my dear. You’ll make a lovely
addition to our dinner. Won’t you join us?”
hissed one.
“Uh, no thanks. I already ate,” Ariana said,
backing away.