Ghost in the Attic

The ogre prowled the temple premises. He had an axe that also doubled up as a shotgun incase Sam turned up. It was highly unlikely that Sam would ring the doorbell but then you never knew. He was starting to relax when the ground erupted with a burst of machine gun fire and he was down on his back. Sam landed on him from the top of the temple, took out a rocket launcher and aiming it squarely at his face fired once…..

Satisfied at the gooey green splatters on the ground, Mike turned away from the PS2. Serious Sam 2 was the best thing that had ever happened to gaming, he thought. And cheat codes helped too. But then today, he could do whatever he felt like. It was his birthday after all. And not just any birthday either. His sweet 16th. How often does that happen to you? Not that he was expecting a lot of gifts. He had no-one in his family apart from his grandma, Martha. The rest had died in a car accident over 10 years ago. He had survived as he was strapped at the rear end of the SUV. He lived in their huge mansion with his grandmother at the very end of Wheeler Street. They got no visitors apart from Mike’s friends who played football in the grounds during summer.

Mike dressed up quickly and made his way to Jefferson High. His friends Neal and Jack were waiting at the steps for him. He grinned broadly as he walked up towards them. Suddenly he was lifted up and given 16 resounding thumps on his back. “Happy Birthday, sucker.” Watson screamed and put Mike down. “I could have managed with a handshake, you know” Mike said, smiling at the brute of a boy who had picked him up as if he was a 5 year old. Though he looked like a bouncer, Watson was the pussy of the group when it came to dare-devilry. It always took Mike, Neal and Jack ten minutes to convince him to come along. “So what’s the big deal today?”asked Neal.”Got anything planned?” “Not much,” admitted Mike. “I thought we’d go up my attic today to explore my place. My grand ma never lets me in there. Says there’s some ghost up there. I’ve never been there my entire life. What better day to do it, eh guys?”.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this, guys…..” Watson grumbled as they made their way up the drive that led to Mike’s house. “Perhaps his grandmother is right. What if there IS a ghost up there?” “Don’t be such a chicken, Watson!!” said Jack. “We’ve done much worse stuff that this before, remember?”

“I do and it doesn’t help!!!!” Watson retorted.



They entered the house and greeted his grandmother. She was on her rocking chair, humming something to herself. It was kind of spooky seeing her all alone by the lighted fireplace that cast shadows around the room. She smiled at them and her gold tooth glinted against the dancing flames.

“Hello boys… How nice of you to come see me on Mikey’s birthday. No-one visits old Martha anymore…”she said while nodding her head side by side. Somehow that nod was more creepy than amusing. Mike felt it was time to get his friends out of there before they all chickened out of going up the attic.
“We’re going upstairs, grandma ”he said. “I want to show my friends our attic.”

The old lady got out of the chair with surprising agility. “Don’t do that Mikey. I’ve told you a hundred times if I’ve told you once, there is a ghost up there. Why don’t you be a dear and listen to me? Go outside and play….”

“I’m 16 grandma….i can and will do as I like. And I want to go up there and see what it is you don’t want me to have a look at.”

Martha got back into her chair with a resigned look. She sighed heavily and resumed her humming. Mike took that as a cue for his exit. Only Watson did not look quite sure yet. “What kind of ghost, Martha?”

“It was thirty years ago…”Martha replied. “A burglar got in and killed a person up in the attic. The ghost haunts it ever since.”

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“Lot of cock,” said Jack. “ I don’t believe in ghosts and stuff like that. But I wonder who it was that the burglar killed. This house has belonged to your family for ages now…”

The attic was not much to look at. It was huge and the years of neglect has given it a thick coat of dust. They made their way through the storage rooms and came abreast a room that looked well-kept through the years.
It had an Oriental door that was closed. Neal gave it a push and it opened quite smoothly. As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they could make out a rocking chair just like the one downstairs that Martha was sitting upon.

Jack went up and turned it around. As he did, he found it was heavy…..almost as if someone was sitting upon it….The chair turned to face them just as Watson threw open the window. The shriveled skin and the wide eyes were familiar……and the glint of gold in the mouth reflected the late evening sunlight. Martha’s body swung to meet them as Mike uttered a silent scream…………

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From her rocking chair, Martha saw the boys rush downstairs wordlessly and run out into the grounds.

“My , my…”she said to herself. “ Those boys look like they’ve seen a ghost…….”




This story is dedicated to my dear friend Arif K. Hafeez. His poem 'Deadtime Story' inspired this storyline in a way. For creepy stuff that rhymes and much more...visit his blog at www.domeoftheduke.blogspot.com