*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1751579-Victorias-House
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Dark · #1751579
Wrote this during Sophomore year of High School, one of my darkest short stories
Victoria’s House
It was a legend nobody ever dared to test staying all night in Victoria’s House. I didn’t want to test it, but I would do anything for my job. Boss told me to get this house ready to be auctioned. I told Boss I would do it. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into Victoria’s House was not a pleasant place to live, nor die.
The quiet streets of Knoxville, Tennessee made me feel so lonely. At this hour there should have been people all over the city; at the movies or going to eat with their dates, but the only people I saw was a young couple. They caught my eyes for some strange reason; I gave them a wild stare not noticing at the time what I was doing. My mind suddenly went blank; the image of my mother was creeping into it, I glanced at the young woman.
The words dripped out of my mouth as if they were little droplets of ice cold water stinging the air as it came out. “Mother.” I said.
I then looked at the man.
He was familiar also, looking like my…dead…father.
Thoughts of grief in my mind began to show on my face, I stood motionless shocked from the sight of both my parents looking at me.
“What’s wrong son?” The man asked.
There it was that word…Son. “Nothing sir, why do you insist on calling me son?” I asked out of instinct. I had to make sure it was him before saying anything. If it was him, then I would have to run.
“Just an old habit, are you okay? You don’t seem like you’re okay.”
“Yeah, I’m fine you just looked familiar.”
“Familiar as in someone that you knew a long time ago, or…”
“Yeah, that, you look like my father who passed away in the thirties.”
“I’m sorry, why.”
“Victoria’s House massacre, he was the killer.”
The man gave me a shocked look. “You must be Mike Victoria, that guy that the police are looking for.”
The woman pulled her cell phone out of her pocket.
I nodded, “Mike Victoria, but I didn’t know the police were after me.”
“They are now.” The woman said hanging up the phone.
She tossed the phone down, “They’ll be able to trace the call from my cell phone. We didn’t even have to say anything to them.”
Without hesitation I dashed towards the opposite end of the parking lot. My note pad and pencil were in hand. I was going to have to escape somehow; the only place I could go was Victoria’s House. But even there I was forced to remember things that I researched about the place. I was forced to remember things I tried so hard to forget. All of the details of what happened in that house. Before I knew it I was at the house looking at the old Victorian Style home.
I stepped forward closer and closer to the door…closer and closer to my dark past…closer and closer to the darkness that was consuming my body. Turning me into something that I wasn’t. The son of a monster…
August 1939
She had short brown hair and pail white skin; this was Anna Victoria, keeper of the house. She wore a black maid’s dress and a silver tiara. Anna crept down the front hallway holding a leather knife case. She was hunting a panther that got into the large house, or so that’s what the autistic woman thought. The hallway was lined with pictures of people being hung and other ways of torture. Anna looked down a corridor. She heard a baby crying then paced towards the baby’s room.
“Mikey!” She cried with fresh tears dripping down her icy blue eyes. A sudden roar and then the baby’s cry grew louder and louder. Anna ran faster and faster, another roar came. Anna grasped the hilt of the knife and pulled it out of the case throwing the leather case to the ground behind her.
“Anna no!” A young man in military clothing yelled pulling her hand back away from the door. She glanced at her husband that had a bullet hole through his heart, somehow he was still alive.
“Jim” Anna said.
“I’m alive.” Jim replied.
“Jim, what’s wrong with you?”
“Anna it’s okay…I can’t die.”
“Stop you’re scaring me Jim. Tell me what’s going on!”
“I’m supposed to scare you baby.” Jim tugged Anna’s arm down laughing at the sudden pop. He tore the knife from her hands as she was crying then drove it into her chest. Anna fell dead as Jim raised the knife to her mouth. He licked the blood off the blade of the knife, “Anna I’ll always love you.” Jim laughed getting down on his knees and listening to her final words.
“Go to hell…” She barely got the words out before she died.
He approached Mikey’s crib and hung the knife over Mikey’s crib. He positioned the knife over his son’s head; blood dripped over the crying baby and immediately silenced it.
April 2008
I couldn’t figure out what I was going to do with the assignment. I couldn’t get fired for saying no, but I also couldn’t die at Victoria’s House.
I prepared my notepad and pencil then walked straight into the house. The furniture was worn from past families and the picture of the torture devices were gone. Probably sold on EBay, or hung up in the attic. I continued through the house hearing the sound of a crying baby.
I crept towards the room.
A man stood over the crib swearing, he was wearing a camouflage uniform and combat boots.
I stepped back trying not to make a sound.
“Going somewhere kiddo?” came a strange voice. I turned and saw a bloody figure behind me, my father with his shirt still stained in my mother’s blood was looking at me.
“I’m not your son.” I screamed.
He paced towards me; a laugh was breaking out of his severely chapped lips.
He punched me in the stomach.
The last thing I remember was doubling over in pain then hearing his horrible laugh.
“Happy Birthday Son.” Mom said looking at me.
I didn’t know what was going on..it wasn’t my birthday, I wasn’t their son. I was trapped in Victoria’s house, strapped to a chair with my pencil driven into my arm, the graphite slowly moving through my blood stream.
“Oh I forgot your cake.” Jim said.
He placed the cake on the table in front of me. Mom ripped the pencil from my arm. I had no chance to scream, no air left in my lungs. The pencil made me think of whatever creative way the notepad was used to bring me pain.
Jim slid a blood stained knife across the table, “You’re an old man now. You cut it.” He said.
I was tempted to cut it.
Tempted to escape peacefully, if no one was to survive Victoria’s house then why didn’t I just…I threw myself out slashing at him cutting deep into his chest. He caught my wrist. Mom was crying and holding me back.
With a kind laugh Jim drove the knife into my chest then pulled it down cutting my chest all the way open.
The Next Day
Boss walked into the office, “Jack.” He said. “I want you to take care of a special project for me. I want you to get Victoria’s house ready for auction.” He smiled with bloodstained teeth.
© Copyright 2011 Korbin Scales (korbins at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1751579-Victorias-House