Chapter One
The sun was setting as everyone began to gather at the big farm-style house that belonged to John and Mary Campbell. The enormous front porch was decorated with straw bales, pumpkins, bundles of corn stalks, and a half dozen pots of hardy mums. Orange and purple lights lined the railings. The Campbells really knew how to decorate for Samhain!
Miss Nora brought some mulled wine, Miss Abi brought a basket of butterscotch scones, and Jack brought three bags of marshmallows with some toasting sticks. John was preparing the bonfire in the backyard while Mary welcomed their guests. Olivia’s mom dropped her and Kendra off with a gentle reminder to behave and have fun. Maude strolled up with Harry the raven perched on her shoulder, and Miss Viv pulled in right behind with Torin in the passenger seat.
They all got settled into the ring of folding chairs as the bonfire blazed up toward the sky. Scones and wine glasses got passed around, with cider and marshmallows for the kids. Maude and Abi grabbed themselves a couple of toasting sticks and marshmallows, too, and then things grew quiet and all that could be heard was the crackle of the flames.
It was time.
John stood and spread his arms wide. “We all know there’s no such thing as monsters.” He winked at his wife, then continued. “But... what if there were? What if the things that go bump in the night were real? Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, shapeshifters, demons, all of it. What if??”
There was murmuring amongst the group as everyone felt a tingle up their spine. What if??
Mary rose beside her husband and put a hand on his arm. She smiled warmly, and yet there was something hard behind her eyes– hard like a truth so old it’s become a diamond, sharp and unforgiving. “That’s why we’re gathered here tonight,” she said. “To imagine, to wonder, and to spin tales of What If.”
Kendra giggled, and Olivia shushed her.
“And,” added John, “of course we’re here to try and scare the living daylights out of each other!” With that he gave a sudden roar, and the girls screamed and then giggled some more.
“Who wants to go first?”
“Frrrrrst,” croaked Harry.
“Well, I guess I’ve been volunteered,” said Maude with a chuckle. Tapping her index finger on her cheek and glancing thoughtfully into the flames. She took a couple of conscious breaths and scanned her audience from left to right, looking them each dead in the eye. And then she began telling her tale.
Chapter Two
Maude’s story: The Tale of the Doll House
(contributed by guest writer Mischa Brooks, our real-life Maude)
It all happened thirty years ago, when I was a teenager. My adventurous spirit was in high gear back then, and my friends Jamie, Roger, and Stella were no different. We had formed our own Ghost Hunting club called Spirit Seekers, and we set out on a dangerous mission!
There was an old, decrepit house, in fact even its address was creepy! I will never forget it; it was 666 Eek Street. Weird, right? That is the kind of name that sticks with you. The house was three stories high, a few of the windows were boarded up and the ones that weren't should have been. The yard had weeds grown over, there was moss on the roof, and it just had this palpable heaviness to it. Legend said that there was a spirit inhabiting that house and that, if you disrupted it, and if “it” didn’t like you, that “it” would somehow breathe a gray mist on you that would turn you into a doll, and the only thing that you would be able to move was your eyes!
The few people who had gone in and come back out—if you could convince them to tell the tale—saw so many dolls in so many places that they hightailed it right on out of there! The dolls were everywhere in the house, in so many sizes and shapes and colors… and they all looked human!!!
For some reason, we had it in our head that we were going to catch this spirit with a homemade “spirit box” that we had thrown together, which was just a copper hinged jar with a spell we put on it. Just to be extra prepared, we also brought some of my old dolls with us so that we could throw them at the mist if needed. We thought maybe it would confuse the spirit or something.
Once it got dark, we loaded up our Spirit box and our other gear, flashlights, our EMF detectors, batteries and snacks, and headed out. As we stepped onto the weeded grass of the house’s overgrown yard, all of us immediately felt a heaviness press down on our shoulders. We looked at each other and still agreed to move forward with our plan. Approaching the front door, Roger checked to see if it was locked and it wasn’t, so we opened the door, and the squeak announced our presence. We collectively held our breath, afraid that someone or something would be alerted that we were there.
A few seconds passed and we slowly crept into the living room. Shining our flashlights around, we saw old paintings with years’ worth of dust piled up, a broken mirror, ripped up furniture, and on a chair sitting in the corner next to the entrance to the kitchen, there was a large doll! We looked at each other, gulped, and slowly crept toward it.
Then we saw her eyes blink!
We screamed and ran outside onto the porch. We caught our breath and calmed ourselves down as much as we could, and then I spoke up. “She’s alive, we have to go back, we have to help her!”
Stella argued, “Are you nuts?! What if we become the spirit’s next dolls in its collection? Nobody will know where to even look for us!” Roger nodded in agreement.
I said, “We can’t just leave her here! We have our Spirit Box, our spell, and our decoy dolls, let’s finish what we started!”
Jamie backed me up. “Maude is right, we came here with the intention of putting this evil spirit to rest and helping anyone who needs help. What if it was one of us in that chair, sitting there for who knows how long, not knowing if anyone will ever help us? She probably has a family, someone who misses her; we have to at least try.”
Roger and Stella were quiet, their downcast glances speaking for them. Suddenly there was a huge THUD! Peeking back through the open door, we watched with horror as the Human Doll slid to the other end of the room!
Roger screamed and took off; he ran all the way home! Stella, Jamie and I all clasped hands and I said, “Don’t forget, we have the Power of 3 on our side!” They nodded that they understood, and we entered the house as a united front, determined to catch the Misty Doll Master. (Yes, that’s the name we came up with. I mean, we needed to call it something.)
So we walked back in and felt the heaviness pervade us, our bodies so stiff it was hard to even walk forward. We looked up and saw a dark shadow creeping up the ceiling, a hazy mist beginning to gather around it. The three of us squeezed hands and yelled out our spell:
“Light above, Darkness below,
we demand that you let go!
Release those frozen in time and space,
untrap their souls from whence encased!
Freeing those under your spell,
we witches here damn you to hell!”
Outside thunder boomed out of seemingly nowhere, and lightning lit up the dark house. Our flashlights flickered and the heaviness began to lift as we looked up and saw the black shadow take the form of a hunch-backed old man. A spooky shriek filled the house, and glass began to shatter and fly. We all ducked and covered our faces, waiting for it to stop.
When we finally lowered our arms to look around, we heard a “pop!” We turned just in time to see our homemade Spirit Box light up. It looked as though there was lightning inside of it! Shocked, we just stared for a moment, and then Jamie pointed and yelled, “Look!” Stella and I turned and saw the chair in the corner had broken and toppled over, and a girl about our age stood there brushing dust off her jeans. She looked at us and said, “Oh my god, thank you so much!” then ran up and gave all three of us a hug!
We were in utter shock. And suddenly so many people were coming in from all areas of the house. So many dolls transformed back into so many people. That first girl said her name was Nancy Goodman, and she’d been missing for 10 years! She was 16 years old when she was turned into a doll, so if you went by her birthdate she was technically 26 years old. But time had frozen for her, so she was still—for all intents and purposes—16. And the same was true for all these people who approached us after we broke the spell.
All in all, there were 36 people who had been turned into dolls that were saved and reunited with their families. However, imagine the added trauma of returning to a life where time had gone on without them!
So yes, we did break the spell. Yes, we did achieve our goal. And in some sense, we were even famous, at least as far as kids go. But it was bittersweet, as freeing all those people from their time capsule doll was both a blessing and a curse. These 35 people were referred to as “Spirit Dolls,” and they were feared by many in the community and sometimes shunned. We felt responsible for that. As much as we were loved for saving them, we were also hated, because people were at a loss as to what to do and how to help them. It was hard for them to move on, because normal was gone.
Several years later, I went back to that house with Stella and Jamie. (We never forgave Roger, and we kicked him out of our club after running away.) We expected it to feel lighter when we went in… but it didn’t.
And do you know what we saw?
A LOT MORE DOLLS!
It’s not the Misty Doll Master. At least not the original Our Spirit jar is still sealed, and we buried it in the cemetery. We even went back to double check. Our theory is that one of the side effects of being a victim of the Misty Doll Master is that you run the risk of taking on some of his energy… and can then also become evil, and turn people into dolls. We never did figure out who the new Master was, though. All three of us moved away not long after that.
But a word of warning to you– be very wary of who you upset, because you may never know who a Misty Doll Master is until it is too late.
~*~*~*~*~
The group let out a collective breath, and a few of them clapped their hands. “Holy cow!” shouted Kendra as she slapped her knee with enthusiasm. “No way that was real… was it??”
Maude stroked Harry’s dark plumage as he nibbled a marshmallow out of her hand. Slyly she raised an eyebrow at the young girl. “What do you think?”
“I think… Hmm…” Kendra seemed at a loss, stuck in the throes of a wild imagination, both wanting to believe and also hoping the world didn’t hold such terror. “I think… it’s Olivia’s turn to tell a story!”
“Thanks a lot, pal.” Olivia tried to sound annoyed, but it was clear she was excited to share her story. Pulling a unicorn notepad out of her tote bag, she cleared her throat and began with fervor.
Chapter Three
Olivia’s Story: The Revenge of the Killer Couch
Maya loves to be scared. She loves reading scary stories. She loves watching scary movies. She loves going to scary places, and playing scary pranks on her little brother. It’s fun… because she knows that none of it is real!
One night, right around Halloween, she’s looking on Netflix for something scary to watch, and she comes across a movie she’s never heard of before. It’s called “Revenge of the Killer Couch.”
“What a weird idea for a movie,” Maya thinks. “It doesn’t even sound scary. It sounds stupid.”
But she turns it on, anyway.
The movie starts off with a young married couple who just bought a house, and in the basement there is a green couch. It doesn’t look that old, and it does look pretty comfy, so they decide to keep it and make the basement a game room to hang out with friends. If someone wants to stay the night, they figure, they can just sleep on the couch.
A little while later, the couple has a housewarming party and one of their friends lives too far away to go home that late, so they give him a blanket and a pillow to sleep on the couch. The next morning the couple wakes up and their friend is gone, so they assume that he just left early. But then the camera zooms in on the couch cushions and Maya sees a corner of the friend’s shirt sticking out from between them.
“Time for bed, you have school tomorrow!” Maya’s mom switches the tv off, and Maya groans.
“Awwww… But it was just getting good!”
“You can finish it tomorrow, sweetheart. Go brush your teeth.”
As she crawls into bed that night, Maya wonders about the green couch, and the shirt, and the friend. She wonders what had happened to the previous owners of the house and why the couch was left behind. She wonders about her own couch. And the more she wonders, the more curious she gets.
When the house is finally real quiet and she knows her mom and her brother are asleep, Maya slips out of bed and goes back to the living room. She stares at her couch. In the darkness, it feels like the couch is staring right back at her. A tingle goes up her spine and she smiles. It’s that familiar feeling of being just a little scared. Even if this is stupid. Even if it is just a couch.
She steps forward and pokes one of the cushions. Nothing happens.
She lifts the cushion and looks underneath it. Nothing is there except a crushed potato chip and a nickel.
She takes the nickel, sticks it in the pocket of her pajama pants, and puts the cushion back. Then she climbs onto the couch and starts jumping up and down. First she just jumps in the middle. Then she starts jumping from one end to the other and back again.
“See? Nothing scary about a couch!” she tells herself.
But on her next jump across, the middle cushion roars open like a mouth and grabs her out of mid-air!
Even though the cushions are soft, they’re strong. REALLY strong. And Maya struggles as hard as she can, but the couch has her tight and is trying to chew her down! She sinks deeper and deeper into the couch and it just keeps on chewing. She tries to scream but her mouth feels like it’s full of pillows. She can’t move. Then everything goes dark.
Suddenly there is a high pitched noise. And light. Sunshine! Maya opens her eyes slowly and blinks a few times. She’s in bed. Her alarm is going off. The corner of her pillow is stuffed into her mouth and her blankets are all tangled around her legs. No wonder she had such a bad dream! Of course couches don’t eat people. How stupid.
But as she rolls out of bed to start getting ready for school, she feels something in her pocket. She reaches her hand in…
… and pulls out a nickel.
~*~*~*~*~
The group applauded heartily and Olivia stood to take a bow, grinning ear to ear. “Thank you, thank you, I’m here all night.” She plopped down victoriously back into her chair and took a sip of cider.
Kendra elbowed her and said, “Girl, that was so GOOD!!”
“Are you going to tell a story, too?”
“Nah, I’m just here to listen. I heard Miss Nora wrote one for tonight, though.”
Upon much urging, Nora pulled a little notebook from her bag and started reading.
Chapter Four
Nora’s Story: The Black Pendant
Maureen was a thrift shop addict, always imagining the stories behind the items before they were given up and left to find a new home. Half of her wardrobe was thrifted. Her favorite trinkets were random thrift finds. Even her puppy Mister Mikkels was a rescue. And one day, when she was perusing the racks and shelves of a second-hand store two towns over, she counted herself extra lucky to find a gorgeous beaded necklace made from what looked like real lapis lazuli and moonstone. The center pendant was a heavy black stone she couldn’t place, carved into a teardrop shape.
And it was only two fifty.
She ran her fingers over the beads and felt a tingle. “I must be imagining it,” she thought. “It’s just so pretty.” Maureen picked it up and stared and stared at it, mesmerized, and trying to identify the black stone. It wasn’t obsidian. Not tourmaline. Too soft to be jet. A mystery!
Finally breaking out of her trance—and without further scavenging—she paid her two fifty plus tax, put the necklace around her neck, and left. As Maureen hurried across the parking lot toward her car, she fumbled about in her purse for her keys… but couldn’t find them. She kept them on a large fluffy keychain to make sure she wouldn’t lose them, and yet here she was, rifling through her bag with growing anxiety, and no fluff in sight.
She walked all the way around her car, looked underneath it, backtracked across the lot, and went back into the shop to search. No keys. She asked the cashier, but he hadn’t seen them, either. Well, at least she still had her cell phone. Maureen called her sister Carol to come bring her the spare keys. Thank goodness she’d given her a set for whenever she went out of town and needed her to watch Mister Mikkels!
Carol wasn’t happy about driving all the way out there, but it was the weekend and she didn’t have plans… so it could have been worse. And Maureen promised to buy her lunch on the way back. They stopped at a cute little diner for burgers, fries, and vanilla shakes, chatted about life in general, and then parted ways.
That night, Maureen woke up with a terrible stomach ache. She was in the bathroom for hours with it coming out both ends. “Food poisoning,” she thought, “I’m never going to that diner again.” But when she called Carol in the morning to see how she was feeling, her sister had experienced no issues, even though they’d ordered the exact same meal.
She was feeling a little better now and made a pot of tea. When she went to pour some milk into her mug, however, it came out curdled and almost yellow. Maureen had to plug her nose and try very hard to not start vomiting all over again. “What the heck? I just bought this two days ago and it was fine! It doesn’t even expire for another three weeks!” She threw the entire jug in the trash so she wouldn’t have to watch it (or smell it) go down the drain, then made another cup of tea with just honey.
After her tea and a hot shower and some puppy snuggles, she was feeling well enough to ride her bike to the corner store to get some more milk. The fresh air felt good, and she was wearing the necklace again. The feel of the heavy black pendant against her chest felt warm and comforting. She wondered again what kind of stone it could be, rolling possibilities over in her mind, her attention consumed partially by curiosity and partially by the sensation of its weight around her neck.
CRASH!!
Maureen had failed to notice the light change, and a truck smashed into her as she crossed the street. The bike went under the truck and she went up and over it. Pain radiated up her left leg but all she could think about was whether or not the necklace had broken. She lay twisted on the asphalt, clutching at the pendant as the driver got out of his truck in a panic and onlookers called for an ambulance.
The necklace was not broken.
Her leg was.
Carol picked her up from the hospital and took her home that evening, since there was no way Maureen could drive with a big fat cast on her leg. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” she asked. “You really don’t look so good.”
Pale and exhausted, Maureen settled in on the couch and shook her head while her fingers played absently with the black pendant around her neck. “I’ll be fine. Besides, Mister Mikkels here will take care of me, won’t you, sweetie?” The little puppy snuggled against her and she gently ruffled his ears. So Carol left, and Maureen dozed on the couch with Mister Mikkels.
It was quite dark when she awoke to a strange noise. Half asleep, she couldn’t tell if it had been a crinkling chip bag or a rattling doorknob, but whatever it was, it didn’t belong in her house. There it was again. Definitely a doorknob. She could hear Mister Mikkels growling in the kitchen, suddenly drowned out by a smash of glass. The puppy barked, and then there was a yelp and a thud in quick succession. Knowing she couldn’t run, Maureen slid off the couch, crawled into a corner, and threw a blanket over herself. She tried not to breathe too loud as she dialed 911 on her cell.
The silverware rattled. The china cabinet clinked. Boots crunched on broken windowpane, then padded on soft carpet. Closer. Closer. She trembled. Heard the intruder snatch her purse from the hook by the front door. Closer. The blanket was ripped away from her and a large man in a ski mask leered down at her. He chuckled and kicked her in the ribs, and her cell phone tumbled out of her hands. He stomped on it. She clutched at the necklace, but that only drew his attention to it, and he reached for it.
Holding the pendant with one hand and scratching at him with the other, she tried to fight but it was no use. He kicked at her with his heavy boots until she stopped moving, and he took the necklace. A tear slid down her cheek as she lay there on the floor, unable to move, barely able to breathe. But she would live.
The robber, however, had to make his getaway on foot…
… because as he tried to get into his car, he realized…
… he’d lost his keys.
~*~*~*~*~
The group was silent, gaping at Nora with wide eyes. Kendra’s marshmallow dropped, melted and gooey, into the fire and she didn’t even notice. The shy shopkeeper looked around and quickly became self-conscious, folding her hands in her lap and shrinking a bit into her chair. “What??” she asked indignantly. “We’re going for scary, right?”
Torin chuckled, and Miss Abi reached over to pat her on the knee. “You nailed it, honey. We just didn’t expect something so… strong… from you. Well done!” The rest of the group voiced their agreement and a few cheers went up.
Miss Nora relaxed at this and smiled, pleased and placated. “Thank you. Are you going next, then?”
Abi gave a gentle shrug. “I don’t see why not, but that’s a tough act to follow!”
Chapter Five
Miss Abi’s Story: Monsters!
Trevor knew that daylight wasn’t safe. He knew he had to hide until the sun went down, or else the monsters would get him. Once the sun went down, the monsters were mostly asleep and he could move around in the world, get something to eat, stretch out and breathe fresh air. As long as he was really, really quiet.
But as soon as the sun began to rise, he'd better be hidden safely away again.
The monsters were terrifying. They came in a variety of colors, but they all had knobby fixtures on their faces and dull flat teeth in their mouths, and they lurched about on long stubs that bent like broken branches.
During the day they were noisy and wild, often congregating in large crowds. At night they were quiet. Probably even vulnerable. But Trevor wasn’t violent– he may have been scared, but he was no killer. And he was all alone. So it was enough that he had a decent hiding place and a relatively safe routine. It wasn’t easy, though. The monsters were everywhere, and even the best hiding places were still in close proximity. Trevor, though… oh, Trevor was smart. If he had to be near them, at least he was near small ones.
One night, when he was sure things had settled down and it was safe to come out, he had just slipped out of his hiding place when his stomach gurgled. Loudly. He froze as one of the small monsters awoke, hoping he wouldn’t be seen. No such luck. The monster’s small, flat eyes squinted and narrowed, then grew wide and a terrible shrieking sound came out of its awful mouth. A second monster awoke at this and joined in the blood curdling noise.
Trevor was terrified! The sound would attract more, bigger monsters. He had to get out! Over and under and around things until he was well away and under a clear moonlit sky, but still he hugged the shadows as he caught his breath.
My goodness he was hungry. The close call hadn’t stifled his appetite any, and he needed to find food. The monsters were wasteful creatures and he could usually find something worth eating in their piles of refuse. Trevor quietly poked around until he found something that smelled delicious and didn’t look too bad. Yummm… hopefully this would quiet his gurgling tummy.
It was a few hours later, after much careful wandering and a little more eating, that Trevor made his way back home. Would it still be safe after he was seen tonight? Should he find another hiding place? Maybe if it was silent enough he would give it a try. The monsters hadn’t seen where he’d come from, just that he was there.
As he got closer, he listened hard. Nothing. Even closer. Nothing. No movement, no sounds, everything as still as still could be. Trevor peeked around a corner. The small monsters weren’t even there anymore! The area was empty. He let out a breath, slowly, and climbed over and under and around things to sneak back into his hiding spot. Safety! Success!
He took one last cautionary glance around with all three of his eyeballs, and with one furry pink tentacle he shut the closet door behind him.
~*~*~*~*~
Miss Viv nearly choked on her scone. “Okay, that is NOT what I was expecting.”
“Nice switch, there,” Maude praised her friend. “You really had us going!”
Miss Abi smiled her neat little smile. “It just goes to show that things aren’t always what we think they are.”
Jack shook his head in wonder and appreciation. “You’ve always got to have a moral in there somewhere, don’t you?”
She tilted her head impishly and winked at him. “You bet. It’s what I do! Now take a turn, sir, what kind of story do you have for us?”
Chapter Six
Jack’s Story: The Creature of Crawley Woods
A few years ago I was working as a lumberjack in woods a lot like here, but they were darker woods, and more dangerous. There were bears and wolves and wildcats. We had to be real careful. Many times I saw an animal that made me nervous, and twice they were close enough that I counted my blessings they didn’t eat me. But only once did I see something that truly chilled me, down to my bones, and I was convinced I was going to die.
It started out like any other day. The sun was shining and the air smelled fresh and earthy. I packed a lunch, grabbed my axe, and headed deep into the forest where I’d been clearing trees all week, ready for a full day of chopping.
Birds fluttered about in the tree branches. Critters scurried about in the underbrush. And I walked along the familiar path, boots crunching leaves and snapping twigs as I went.
When I was almost there, I heard a noise that caught my attention. It was a snuffle, and sounded a lot like a bear but not quite… so of course I went still and slowly looked around. I let out a breath when I saw antlers. Not a bear. Just a deer. No big deal.
But then the deer raised its head. The snout was too long. The teeth were too sharp. This was no deer. It saw me and stood upright, snarling, and I saw that it had claws instead of hooves!! I might have imagined it, but I think its eyes even glowed red, and suddenly it came after me. It was faster than a bear, faster than a deer, leaping with frightening grace between the trees.
There was no way I could outrun it. And anyway, I was so scared I was glued to the spot, could barely move, could barely even process what was happening. But instinct kicked in and just as it was about to lunge and eat my face clean off, I closed my eyes and swung my axe!!
… and it passed cleanly through… air.
When I realized I hadn’t hit anything solid, I opened my eyes. It was gone. Nowhere to be seen. Disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place.
But I knew what I’d seen. I knew it was real. I’ve thought long and hard about it over the years since then, and all I can come up with is that my axe head is made of steel, and steel is made with iron. Lots of supernatural creatures don’t take to iron.
I never go anywhere without a steel blade of some sort. Axe. Knife. Something. Not since then.
~*~*~*~*~
Jack patted the axe sitting beside his chair for effect. Olivia and Kendra held each others’ hands, breathless but pretending they were cool and unaffected. Miss Abi nodded her approval, Torin gave a low whistle, and John and Mary shared a heavy glance between themselves.
Chapter Seven
The night progressed easily and enjoyably.
Torin told a story about a purple gorilla. Kendra called him out and said she’d heard that one before somewhere else. He rubbed at his beard and looked sheepish.
Miss Viv shared a revolting piece about the enormous rats back when she lived in NYC.
And at the end, John and Mary tag-teamed a terrifying tale about hunting a rougarou in Louisiana. Rougarous look human until around 30 years old when they start to change… and if they give in to the maddening hunger for human flesh, they transform completely and they’re a monster forever. They’re super fast and super strong, and can only be killed with fire.
At this, John threw a handful of powder on the dying bonfire to make it blaze higher and flash in various colors. Then Mary smiled at everyone and said, reassuringly, “But of course there’s no such thing as monsters.”
Everyone laughed. The fire was doused. Olivia’s mom had arrived toward the end to pick up the girls, and slowly vehicles began to pull away into the night.
As the tail lights disappeared, John put his arm around Mary’s waist and held her close. “What a lovely thought, my dear. No such things as monsters.” His eyes were tight in the corners.
She leaned into him and sighed. “Well… not here in Pine Harbor, anyway.”