Haunted Tales (21 page)
Authors: Terri Reid
The fire was glowing embers, and the house was dark, only
the light from the jack-o-lantern glowing on the coffee table was softly
illuminating the room.
Mary was snuggled
in Bradley’s arms in the corner of the couch, and her father had moved the
rocking chair to the center of the room where he now sat with Clarissa cuddled
in his arms.
“We need one more story, Grandpa,” Clarissa insisted.
“Ah, well then, who hasn’t had a turn?” he asked, looking
around the room at his family assembled around him.
“The only one who hasn’t taken a turn is you,” Margaret
said. “So, make it a good one so we can all sleep with the covers pulled up
tight.”
Timothy chuckled. “And so I will,” he said.
“The moon was full, as it is tonight, and a young girl was
walking near the forest’s edge all alone,” he said, his voice low. “Now it
wasn’t her fault at all, for she was a good girl and abided her mother and
father’s warning, ‘Never go near the dark woods at night.’
But she’d been helping a friend, and it took
much longer than she had expected.
And
now she walked slowly her heart hammering in her chest, as the leaves crunched
underneath her shoes and the wind cried softly between the trees.”
“She clutched her shawl closer, for the night was a cold,
autumn night, and the wind was fierce.
The moonlight cast shadows through the trees that danced wickedly in the
night sky, their spindly, leafless limbs lifted up reaching for the stars in
the heavens.
She’d heard about the trees
and their autumnal dance but had never seen it before. It was almost as if they
had lifted their roots from the ground and swayed to the music of the night,
their giant trunks bending side to side and their silvered branches waving to
the moon.
The girl was awestruck by the
beauty and the majesty of it.
And that’s
where she made her first mistake.
She
stopped walking and turned toward the dark woods to watch.”
“A light appeared in the woods a little ways from the road.
A light that she wouldn’t have seen if she hadn’t stopped.
A light that moved and bobbed and twirled slowly in the distance.
Pulled away from the dance of the trees, the
girl’s attention was caught by the light, and she could not pull her eyes away
from it. Then she heard the whisper of a voice.
‘Remember
.’ The sound, carried by the wind, whisked along her
spine, up the back of her neck and into her ear.
‘Remember.’
”
“Could it be a faery?
she
wondered.
She’d heard about the faery folk, and it had been rumored that they did, indeed,
inhabit portions of the dark woods. Could it be a leprechaun, carrying his pot
of gold in one hand and his wee lantern in the other?
Could it be a child, lost and afraid, in the
midst of the dark woods with only a candle for light? Could it be the banshee
searching for her next unsuspecting victim?
A shiver ran down the girl’s spine at the thought of the banshee flying
from the dark woods toward the road and snatching her up in her skeletal arms.”
“She started to walk away from the forest and once again
heard the soft whisperings on the wind.
‘Remember.
Remember.’
The sound made her
shiver, and she started to run, afraid of whatever it was in the woods.
She heard the crunch, crunch sounds of her
feet against the dead leaves on the road. She heard the soft panting sounds her
own breath made as she ran as quickly as she could.
She heard the wind whistling through the
trees.
She still heard the voice.
‘Remember. Remember.’
And she saw that
the light was coming closer to the road.”
“She glanced around frantically.
She could see a tiny light in the distance,
and she knew it was the lantern that her father put on their barn to guide her
safely home. All she had to do was make it to the barn, and she would be
safe.
She tried to run faster, but her
legs were tired and her breathing labored.
She knew that soon she would have to stop to catch her breath, or she
would fall to the ground. But before she could slow down, she stumbled over a
stone and tumbled to the ground.”
“No sooner had she fallen than the light emerged from the
woods.
It was her worst
nightmare come
true.
The terrible banshee, an ancient, glowing crone with fingers like the
silvering tree branches, eyes like glowing coals, and teeth darkened with
lichen and moss.
The young girl covered
her face with her hands. ‘Will you remember me?’ the banshee asked.
The little girl nodded, her body shaking in
fear.
‘Will you remember me in a year?’
the banshee demanded. The girl nodded again. ‘Yes,’ she whimpered. ‘I
will.’
The banshee screamed into the
night sky. ‘Will you remember me in five years?’ the old crone demanded. ‘Yes,’
the child pledged.
The banshee moved
closer, and the girl could feel its cold breath on her neck. ‘Will you,’ the
crone asked slowly, ‘always remember me?’
With tears running down her cheeks, the girl nodded. ‘Yes, always,’ she
said.”
“The banshee didn’t move, but stayed just hovering above the
frightened child for what seemed to be an eternity.
Finally, drawing a skeletal finger along the
child’s cheek, the creature spoke again. ‘Knock, knock,” it cackled.
Confused, the child looked up. ‘Who’s there?’
she whispered.
The old crone’s eyes
widened,
and her ember-like eyes glowed hotter than
before.
Her face contorted, and she
lifted her claw-like hands up above the girl. ‘What? You forgot me already?’”
It took a moment for the ending to register with Clarissa.
Then her wide eyes crinkled, and she shook her head. “Grandpa, that wasn’t a
real story, was
it
?” she laughed.
Timothy held up his right hand. “On my honor,” he said. “It
happened to my great-great-grandaunt in the hills of Killarney when she was
but a wee lass
. Luckily she made it home to tell the tale.”
“And ever since it happened,” Sean said, standing up and
walking across the room towards the refreshments, “knock-knock jokes were
banned from the O’Reilly household.”
Clarissa shook her head. “No,” she said, looking to Mary for
confirmation.
Mary laughed and shook her head. “I think they might be
pulling your leg,” she said. “But, my dear, now it’s time for bed.”
Bradley stood up. “Come on, Clarissa,” he said. “Say
goodnight, and then I’ll help you get ready.”
It took a few minutes, but finally Clarissa was climbing the
stairs with Bradley, happily exchanging knock-knock jokes with him.
“Thank you, Da,” Mary said. “That was the perfect story.”
“The poor, sweet lass had eyes as wide as saucers before I
started,” he laughed. “And she should, after a night like this one. But I
wanted to send her to bed with laughter on her lips, not a ghost under the
bed.”
“You are an excellent grandpa,” Mary said, placing a kiss on
his forehead.
“Well, and thank you for the ability to be a grandpa,” he
said, and then he looked around the room and scowled. “Since none of your
brothers seem to be in any hurry to pass on the O’Reilly name.
“It’s not our fault,” Art said. “We look too much like you,
so none of the girls will have us.”
Margaret chuckled and pulled herself out of her chair.
“Well, you bunch of ugly boys,” she said, “come help me clean up. I’ll not be
leaving Mary with a mess like this.”
“Oh, no, Ma, you’ve done too much,” Mary said.
Margaret came over to her daughter and embraced her. “It’s
not often that I can be helpful, and tonight I’m going to insist.
You need to rest after what you’ve been
through today,” she said.
“If not for you, then for the baby.
You go to bed, Mary O’Reilly Alden before I have your father carry you up.”
“But, Ma,” Mary argued.
Margaret placed her hands on her hips and shook her head.
“To bed with you,” she said.
“Now.
We’ll all be here
in the morning, so we can catch up then.”
“Goodnight, Mary,” her brothers called mockingly. “Sleep
tight.”
She chuckled. “Goodnight,” she replied.
Moonlight flooded in
through the bedroom window, illuminating the entire room as Mary padded back
from the bathroom for the third time that night.
She sighed. When would she remember to stop
drinking liquids after nine o’clock?
She was nearly to the bed when the closet door started to
slowly open.
Clutching the bed post, she
watched in silent awe as the door swung open even further. “Um, we have a rule
now,” she whispered. “No more bedroom visits.
The bedroom and the bathroom are off limits.”
The moving door stopped.
“See, I told you,” a voice whispered. “It was right on the
instructions.”
“Instructions?
What instructions?”
another voice replied. “We’re dead. Who needs instructions?”
“Well, obviously you do,” the first voice said. “Just like
you always needed directions but never asked.”
“We got to where we were going, didn’t we?” the second voice
replied.
“I don’t think death was our destination,” the first voice
said.
“Oh, and now you’re going to blame me for that?” the second
voice asked.
“Shut the door, Frasier. We don’t want to disturb her,” the
first voice ordered.
“Oh, sure, don’t disturb her,” Frasier replied. “Don’t think
about…”
The door closed, shutting off their conversation.
Mary stared at the door for a moment and then started to
laugh.
Tomorrow is certainly
going to be another interesting day.
About
the author:
Terri Reid lives near Freeport, the home of
the Mary O’Reilly Mystery Series, and loves a good ghost story.
She lives in a hundred year-old farmhouse
complete with its own ghost. She loves hearing from her readers at
[email protected]
Other Books by Terri Reid:
Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery
Series:
Treasured
Legacies (Book Twelve)
Buried Innocence (Book Thirteen)
Mary
O’Reilly Short Stories
PRCD Case Files:
The
Ghosts
Of
New Orleans -A Paranormal Research and
Containment Division Case File
Eochaidh:
Legend of the
Horseman (Book One)
Romance:
The Order of Brigid’s Cross:
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O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery Series – you might enjoy these books:
