The ball hit the side of the gutter and spun sharply into the air. It hovered for a second in the pure blue sky, eclipsed the sun, then hit the ground, bouncing high and fast toward the iron gates.
The kids screamed and ran after it, its velocity speeding up as it hit the perfect square in the sidewalk and leapt over the speared iron rods.
“Man! Are you kidding me?” A boy with brownish hair covered his face with his hands. “Not Mrs. Saltwood’s yard. I told you we should have played way further down the street.”
A group of children gathered round in the middle.
“Just go get it,” a girl spoke up from the back.
The boy spun around. “Are you joking? You want me to end up as a tombstone on their lawn next week, or minced into pies, or hung by my innards from their tree?” He pointed to the great oak that cast its shadow across the house.
A cul-de-sac lay at the edge of the neighborhood. It was perfect for playing ball or street hockey. Cars didn’t come that way and there was only one house.
The Saltwood Manor.
“Stop it, Sam. Look, me and Julia will go get it.” A boy with large-rimmed glasses moved to the front of the crowd. A girl stood by him, his sister.
“Tyler, I know you live in the next neighborhood and think it’s all safe and such, but you don’t have a literal haunted house standing at the end of a dead street.”
“It’s a cul-de-sac.” Julia moved toward the front gate, which was locked.
“A whatever. Dead is what I see it as. Has nowhere to go, and goes nowhere. This house was the first and will be the last here.” Sam moved on shaky legs to the sidewalk where the house sat.
Tyler looked around the fence line to see if there was any place to climb over. The yard was big; the great oak tree dominated most of it, but a few odd-looking tables sat here and there. The house was a big Victorian; it seemed to have eyes that looked and followed you even in the daytime. A shadow fell from the sky and never seemed to move, even on a cloudless day. He noticed a small break in the iron fence — one of the rods had been bent, and it was just the right opening to squeeze through.
“Here,” he waved everyone over. “We should be able to squeeze through here, get the ball, throw it back over, and play some more.”
There was a hush among the kids as they watched Tyler pass through the fence.
“Is he going to be okay?”
“He’s totally dead meat.”
“If he becomes a ghost, can he still play with us?”
Julia waved them off and moved to the other side of the fence with Tyler. A small gasp ran through the crowd.
Sam backed away and said, “I’m going home. You’re going to get us all cursed.”
The ball came flying over the fence line at them in response.
The children cheered. Sam caught it, looking back toward the small gap they’d gone through.
Then a window on the second floor of the manor came on, and Sam dropped the ball like it had burned him. It struck the sidewalk, bounced twice, and rolled away from all of them — the wrong way, straight down the cul-de-sac toward the house — until it came to rest in the grass at the foot of the front gate.
Sam looked at it, then at the house, then went home without it. The rest of them stood out in the street and watched the ball sit where it had stopped. Nobody wanted to walk over and pick it up.
Out in the street, nobody could see Tyler and Julia. They waited till the streetlights came on, but Tyler and Julia never came out.
Tyler looked for the opening in the fence where he’d come through, but the iron rods had melted shut behind them. They both looked out at the street, which was empty.
“Maybe they ran away?” Tyler questioned.
The sky above them became dark and the wind picked up, sending rustling leaves and the great oak whipping. The lights the house illuminated cast warm yellow light onto the property.
The eyes could see.
Through the windows, murky shadows moved around, obscuring the light, creating retinas that followed and stared at them.
“I doubt it.” Julia moved toward the porch and looked out at where the large forest at the edge of their neighborhood should be. In its place, cascading into the distance, were rolling grayish-green hills. Decayed houses and fences rose into the sky, while skeleton trees dotted the landscape. Out in the distance, starting on a far back hill, gravestones decorated the land. A moon that couldn’t be there hung low in the sky, almost impossibly big, yellow and pulsating with slow-moving energy.
The door shot open and they both screamed.
“Who is loitering among the leaves? Hmmm? Oh.” The figure threw half of themselves back inside and yelled, “It’s children!” Commotion could be heard in the house, and they both backed up to the iron fence. The figure spun back and stepped into the lamplight on the porch. Her nose was twice as long as any they had ever seen. Her eyes were piercing green and red. Her lips were blood-red as well. When she smiled, her teeth seemed sharper than they should be. Her movements were snake-like, liquid in motion as she moved toward them before they could even react. Her hands slid around them, and she was behind them hugging them.
They thrashed and screamed at her.
“Get away!” Julia kicked and drew her teeth to bite the woman’s arm.
Tyler used all his power trying to elbow anything he could.
But their attacks didn’t faze her at all. She just laughed and then put them down.
The porch was now filled with creatures — some that looked human but twisted and malformed, others straight animals that bared their fangs, their eyes set to mangle.
Yet they all stood watching, observing.
“What little rascals have come into our place this time? We haven’t seen any children in a while.”
Tyler and Julia were cornered between her and the group.
“Your names?” The woman knelt down to them.
“We don’t talk to strangers.” Tyler looked back at the group, then back at her. Julia nodded in agreement.
The woman smiled, all teeth, and put out her hand.
“Sandra Saltwood. Fourth witch of the Saltwood family.”
She moved down the row of things on the porch one by one, giving each one a name. They gestured as best they could. Some even spoke a little.
“Ancient Oz. The one with the big hat.”
The hat dipped on its own, as if in greeting.
“Merkle Tales. Scales and a fish-like face.”
He opened his mouth and something inside it clicked like a box of dice.
“And finally.” She stopped in front of the last one. “Merlini Talkive. The first wizard of his time.”
He bowed so far his hat brushed the porch boards.
“He’s just visiting for a moment. He doesn’t live here.” She cupped her hand toward the children. “And who might we have here?”
She uncupped her hand and held it out again.
Tyler stepped up and took her hand, gripping it with all his strength. “Tyler Windle, and my sister.”
Julia stepped up next to Tyler. “Julia Windle, pleased to meet you and—” she turned to the group, “you all as well.”
“Well, would you look at that. Looks like we have Tyler and Julia Windle on the menu tonight.” Sandra howled and the rest of the group joined her. “Oh, it’s just a joke, you two look scared out of your minds.” She said, ushering the two of them into the house.
The house matched the exact same vibe as the outside. If Halloween had permanent residence, it was this place. The lights glowed yellow from chandeliers and sconces that were bats, wolves, and ghostly hands. Deep velvet carpets and drapes lined the floors and by the windows. Deep wood and the smell of a house left to dry out filled the air. The grand entry had a large spiral stairwell; off to the right was a large sitting room with several grand pieces of rich-looking furniture. Everything was etched, carved, and made to look haunting. To the left was a small sitting room with some easels and painting supplies.
Julia stopped. “We came to get our ball, and our parents will be worried if we aren’t back soon.”
“My sister is right. We got the ball when we came in. We tossed it back over the fence — Sam caught it out there. But where we came in was sealed,” Tyler spoke up.
“Ah.” Sandra turned back toward the front door. “I was wondering why you ended up in here. Fences be mending themselves sometimes. While time moves differently in here, your parents might be wondering.”
“Are you always here?” Julia asked Sandra as they stepped back out onto the porch. “How come we never see you from the street?”
Sandra laughed her witchy laugh, almost bellowing over the top of it. “Of course we are always here, but the house acts like a portal to the other world. We mostly stay in this one. You will see us leaving here and there from there. Mortal errands.” She winked at Julia. “You’re welcome anytime, just remember. If I am not home, don’t go wandering around here alone. Not all monsters are friendly. Come now.” She led Julia from the porch and toward the front gate. “You two, Tyler, you can leave through here.”
Tyler ran to meet them at the large front gate. “Wait till those scardy cats hear about this.”
“They won’t believe us,” Julia said dryly.
Sandra opened the gate. “Just head on through. You’ll be back in your world once through. You know, magic.”
“Thank you, Sandra.” Tyler smiled, and Julia echoed him. They gave a wave to her and the monsters, then stepped through the gate. As they stepped, it was as if a shadow swiftly engulfed them, and as they blinked they were now standing in front of the house in the cul-de-sac. The moon shone its white light on them, and the yellow streetlights lit the rest of the street.
The ball was sitting in the grass at the foot of the gate, exactly where it had stopped hours ago. As if it had been waiting for them.
“Boy, I hope Mom and Dad won’t be mad at us. Forget the others, no way they would believe us.” Tyler picked it up. “I guess there are no more games.”
Julia laughed. “Prepare for a stern talking to, but it should be okay. We can just say we lost track of time, and it took longer to get back than we thought. Sorta the truth.”
Tyler bounced the ball and then looked back at the house. “Kinda freaky. Monsters. Witches. Just wait till Halloween.”
“It’s going to be a fun one this year.”
Happy Halloween!
I started this story a while ago. I was originally going to have it just be them disappearing into the yard, but I just kept going and it turned into a perfect little Halloween story. I thought a bit about my childhood and haunted houses, particularly from McDonald’s — haha, there were those specials that they used to do. The world was never dangerous, but still dressed in a spooky way. I love that type of vibe.
Till next time, the Conductor wishes you a very spooky night!