Page 63 - Phonebox Magazine October 2014

Frightening Tales for Your Delectation
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‘Trick or treat?’ The masked and cloaked gang shouted as they raced along Pagnell Street, out to terrorise the neighbourhood for another October 31st night. They’d done this since they were at primary school, when they’d looked cute in Harry Potter costumes and were happy with a haul of fun size Mars bars. Now they were large and intimidating and definitely out for hard cash.
They crashed around, banging on doors and gates, upsetting wheelie bins, scaring cats. Most residents simply ignored their knock- ing, but the woman at number 42 laughed nervously and said ‘No thanks, try number 13’. An elderly lady called ‘ Go away. Try number 13’. A man setting out with his dog shouted ‘ No way kids, try number 13’.
The gang looked at each other, unsure of themselves. Number 13? The haunted
The Game
It wasn’t meant to happen that way, of course. Had just started out as a bit of fun. Something half-seen in a movie, so when Annie had come across the Ouija board in her Mother’s room, they had all been curious. The others weren’t so certain at first, but Tom had urged them on. What could they be afraid of? Nothing was
going to happen and who believed in
that sort of thing anyway?
But as Halloween drew nearer, Tom
was not so sure he wanted to be
here. Too late to back out now, he
was waiting, peering through the darkness gathering round the old Mill
and trying not to show his relief when
the others arrived. Abandoned over
50 years before, after a sudden fire, rumour had it that someone had died
but no-one seemed to know for sure. Being young they didn’t really know the meaning of fear, but underneath the bravado, you could see that they all felt ill at ease.
So here they were, sat at the top of the Mill, cobwebs all around. The light seemed to go out of the day so quickly at this time and
house of their childhood, set back from the road behind a high hedge? The house they used to dare each other to run up the over- grown path to knock on the door, which was never opened? They peered at it from the gate and were surprised to notice the door was ajar. Slowly they felt their way up the dark path between conifers and bushes, pushed the door which opened further with a lot of creaking, and went into the hall. It was lit with a single candle, lighting up dusty corners and cobwebs and casting strange shadows. They stood for a moment, looking around uncertainly in the cold air, their confi- dent brashness waning. Was there anybody there?
A loud scream rang out behind them. They leaped round to see a huge figure in the open doorway, silhouetted against the street
no-one had brought a torch. All they had was the oil lamp, lit and flickering now as Annie slammed the stiff wooden door to the stairs and banged the windows shut. The chatter stopped and no-one spoke, hypnotised almost by the glow of the lamp. As the chanting started, a sudden sneeze
By Ruth Tompsett
light, with a great hound barking and rearing. The candle blew out. As they shrank into a corner, the figure raised an arm brandish- ing a bright object towards them. A hideous screech, a flash of light then a moment later all that could be seen in the dark room was a pile of plastic masks and clothes and a few more spiders scuttling around mania- cally over them.
In the quiet street, the man and the dog walked on, heading for the Dolphin. Sitting with his pint, the man took out his mobile and switched off SpiderApp. Maybe later, he thought, he’d go back to the house and see how it worked in reverse.
For the moment, he simply sent a text mes- sage to the Pagnell Street Neighbourhood Watch group: ‘Tricked and treated at number Thirteen’.
By Samantha Smeraglia
the brittle, dry wood of the Mill floor. The arid dust floating in the air seemed to catch at their throats and suck all breath from the room around them. Too late, Tom put his hand out to pat away the flames, but the burn made him pull away. A sudden gust made the blaze jump higher and Annie,
seemed to come to and start pulling at the door she had shut only minutes before. The building was warped and treacherous though, and the same doors that had been so difficult to shut, were now impossible to open. Tom scrabbled at one window, then the next, but the paint on the sills seemed to be bubbling and sealed shut with the glare of the heat.
They were too far away from everywhere else for their cries to heard, but they cried out all the same. Someone started sobbing softly, a sound of quiet despair. Frightened, all they could do was watch and wait as the flames leapt higher, closer even than the smell of fear and a mocking voice that whispered to them all “I warned you.”.
there,
made them all jump, then laugh, looking round guiltily at having been caught out. The glass didn’t move on the board and minutes passed with nothing, then one word only, “Run!”.
Annie jumped, the candle tipped and spilt hot oil. As they watched in horror, the blanket crackled and lit, then flames started to lick
Phonebox Magazine 63