Gothic

Couple assigned to write a story about a 'haunted' house.

Prompt genre: Gothic.
Word count = 1855.

Generated by Gemini
 

Derek and Laura are struggling putting on bee suits. Laura looks back at the house.
“Okay, that is spooky. Why are we here?” asked Laura, leaning over the top of the car as Derek locked the car.
“Because Carl thought it would make a great article for Halloween, especially with the blood moon. And we always do what Carl wants, don’t we?” asked Derek.
“Do we have to go inside?”
“We have to go inside, stay inside, and only come out when the sun comes up. You were in the same meeting I was. Scared?”
“Bet there are rats and snakes and spiders, lots of spiders.”
“We’ve got our beekeeper's hats and overalls. Nothing can get to us. Nothing will drop down our necks.”
“Easy for you to say, spiders don’t terrify you,” said Laura.
“Not terrify, but I would just as soon they didn’t crawl on me. That’s a great shot. Work your magic.”
“It is a good shot. Okay, got it. Lead on, Mc Duff.”
They trudged up the hill. The door was not cooperative. It took both of them to push it open. The hinges were upset; they screamed.
“Oh, I don’t like this at all.” She turned on the camera light. “Which way, left, right, up, or back out?”
“How long is that light good for?”
“I don’t really know.” She shrugged. “A couple hours, I guess. I’ve got a spare battery. Scared?” She snarled.
“Would I rather be back at the motel, in front of the fireplace, sipping a hot, buttered rum, you bet, but duty calls. That and a paycheck I’ve grown accustomed to.”
“You’re doing this for me, aren’t you?” asked Laura.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“Sure, play the martyr. You know Carl wants to cut me from the staff.”
“He doesn't want to, but he might have no choice, for either of us. What can we do to make this more spooky?”
“Why would you want to make it spookier?”
“To give Carl his monies worth and get a couple more checks out of him and that skinflint we call a publisher.”
“Should we split up?” asked Laura.
“You got another light?”
“No.”
“Then I go where the light goes,” said Derek.
“Spoken like a true hero, the intrepid adventurer.”
“I don’t need to see this mausoleum, I’m a writer. I can let my imagination paint the picture. You, however, must have proof that we were here. A few pictures, then we go?”
“What about our deal to stay until sunup?”
“I won’t tell if you won’t. These beekeeper shrouds don’t do much for the cold.”
“You felt it, too?”
Derek nodded. “I felt it. The door’s open. It must have come in from the outside.”
Laura shook her head. “We both know it didn’t. Let’s get a few pictures, then scram.”
“You lead; I’ll follow and keep checking behind us.”
“Don’t stand on ceremony. If something is a little odd, sing out.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not too proud to scream,” said Derek.
“Good.” Laura turned to look back at Derek. “What’s the story on this place? In its day, it must have been quite a place. It still could. What happened?”
“Not a lot in the files. Nothing on the internet. Couldn’t find the architect, the owner, owners, or why it was abandoned. You hear of anything?”
“No, I didn’t know this existed until Carl called us into his office. You’d think there would be all kinds of stories. Go left or right?”
“Left seems to be a little brighter. More windows, though it is dark as the bottom of a well outside.”
“Shall we see what’s behind the door?”
“Might as well. Might make a good shot of me opening the door. More proof we were really here.”
Derek put his hand on the doorknob, then quickly withdrew it.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s hot.”
“How can that be?”
“Not sure I want to find out. Time to put on the gloves?”
“Would seem wise. Hold the light while I put mine on,” said Laura.
“Hmmm…now it seems alright. I would have sworn it was like grabbing a hot pan off the stove.”
“Okay, time to stop being angels and time to rush in. I’m ready when you are.”
Derek flung to door wide. It swung into the hall wall with a bang.
“Well, if there were any ghosts, you woke them up.” Laura peeked over Derek’s shoulder. “Nice room. If there were books, it would have been a nice library. Nothing, no books, furniture, drapes, or even carpet.”
“No cobwebs or dust. Even the windows are clean. When have you ever heard of a haunted house with maid service?”
“Wasn’t it like that in the foyer? Everything seemed clean, polished. Had there been carpet on the stairs, you’d swear people still lived here. Curious, curious.”
“Curiouser,” said Derek. “You smell anything?”
“Like what?”
“Then you don’t smell it?”
Laura sniffs the air. “Lavender?”
“Not sure what lavender smells like, but it is something. Kinda pleasant.”
“As a haunted house, this is a bit of a letdown. It’s clean, spotless even, and it smells nice. Except for being dark, it is not all that spooky. I could spend the night here.”
“Want to explore some more?”
“In for a penny, in for a pound. You take the light. I may need you to hold it for me when I take a picture, but this will be handier.”
Derek took the light. As they left the room, the door closed behind them. They both turned.
“I may have spoken too soon,” said Laura.
“Right, just a breeze we didn’t feel. Nothing strange about that.”
“Right, nothing strange.”
The house was a warren: rooms and more rooms. All empty, all clean.
“Ready for the upstairs?” asked Derek.
“Did you notice the kitchen?”
“What was there to notice. You could tell it was a kitchen because of the sinks, but no tables, no pans hanging from the walls. Just a big, open, empty space. Like all the rooms we’ve seen.”
“Didn’t it smell like an apple pie baking, or something apple - y ?” asked Laura.
“Yes, but no stove or oven.”
“Curiouser and curiouser.”
“Okay, now for the upstairs. There was a turret, a garret, right?” asked Derek.
“Let’s not push our luck. A quick run through the upstairs, then back to the car to await the sun.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to play the hero. While this is not unpleasant, it is not normal. It is not normal for a haunted house. Might explain why there were no articles about it, too strange. Who would believe a haunted house which wasn’t haunted?”
“Well, we better make it haunted. I can do a few things with the camera, but we will need you to give it soul.”
“Right, soul to a haunted house. Any suggestions?” asked Derek.
“Not really, I’ve got a few filters. Might be able to do something with the blood moon, make everything red.”
“Blood dripping from the walls?” asked Derek.
“Something like that. Remember that lavender? We can have all sorts of smells. Think we can make a shroud out of these beekeeper outfits. Work up some way to have our ghosts at the head of the stairs. You can tell who the ghost is supposed to be. Make it ghoulish.”
“It’s a shame all the furniture is gone; I don’t have anything to build our ghoul.”
“What if we made you the ghoul? " If I light the veil netting just right and you pull it tight, it might look like a face. Mess with the focus and it will look like every ghost you have ever seen. Got an idea for the story?”
Derek nodded. “I think so. What if there were a friendly ghost…?”
“Casper?”
“Sure, why not? Everybody has the vengeful ghosts, the tragic ghosts. What if we had a good-natured ghost?”
“Keep going,” said Laura.
“We know the house is well-maintained, cared for. What if the house really did have a soul, but it needs a family. It needs a happy family, but it is stuck out here in the boonies and the ghost hasn’t been able to maintain the exterior as well as he can the interior. Also, it might upset a few folks to have a ghost running around with a paintbrush.”
“Hmmm…it could work. Probably won’t sit well with the real horror fans, but it might be a nice take on spirits and hauntings. I’ll take a few shots of you becoming a ghost, just so everyone understands.”
“Won’t make any friends debunking the whole ghost thing,” said Derek.
“Probably not, but it might make Carl happy. A new take on an old story. Think we can explain how the inside is so well maintained?”
“Maybe we don’t. Let’s keep it a mystery. We can show how…how…how frivolous some of the haunted house stories are and also how they may have some basis in fact.”
“Make our ghost a maid?” asked Laura.
“I can. She, he, it can be anything I want to make them.” Derek rubbed his chin. “Yes, that could work. I’ll make her happy. The family left on a trip and never came back. The maid was left all alone to take care of the house. The family treated her well. They left her with an allowance for the house. But it wasn’t enough. After a while, she had to sell off the furniture and things. Down to the carpets. When she ran out of money and there was nothing left to sell…Hmm, how should we make it so she stays with the house?”
“Don’t ask me, you’re the writer. Get ready to become a ghost. Do you have to be so tall and broad-shouldered?”
“Work your magic.”
Derek climbed the stairs and stood back in the shadows. Laura worked her magic and made him a specter. A forlorn maid from long ago. Derek moved from room to room to show the maid in as many poses as Laura could imagine. They didn’t go to the garret. They sat together at the base of the stairs and awaited the sun. When the house was bathed in the morning light, it took on a whole new personality. It became inviting, a happy, welcoming home. Laura caught that. They left.
In a few days, Derek had the story and Laura had printed the pictures. They assembled the story. Carl was upset. He expected a real honest to goodness ghost story with chains and moans and all sorts of ghosty stuff. Derek and Laura polished their resumes.
Their savior was the skinflint publisher. He loved the take on good ghosts, friendly ghosts. They ran it as a Thanksgiving story. It was well-received. They got a bonus. They never told anyone about the note they found that morning on Laura’s camera case. It was a simple scrawl. It said: Thank you. It is a good house. Sorry about the doorknob. Please come back. It was fun. Glad you like the house. Signed Elly.