With Certainty by Eddie D. Moore
Wesley’s attorney, Mr. Clarksdale, parked the car outside an old house with mostly broken windows. Lightning flashed in the western sky, and for a second he saw an old tire swing swaying under an ancient oak tree beside the house.
After clearing his throat, Wesley asked, “So, this is it?”
Mr. Clarksdale placed a clipboard and a pen on the dash. “This is the place. As per the agreement, all you have to do is spend the entire night in the house, and the other party has agreed to drop the defamation lawsuit.”
Wesley worked his jaw side to side and counted to ten before replying, “All I did was point out that everyone connected with that Paranormal Detective program was complete frauds. When did it become a crime to speak the truth?”
The attorney cleared his throat. “Their defamation suit focuses entirely on the personal attacks you made over several months, even after several cease and desist letters. If you’d rather…”
Wesley held up a forestalling hand. “I know how much it would cost me to fight this in court. That old house doesn’t scare me. I’ll just go in, get a good night’s sleep and put this behind me.”
As Wesley retrieved his backpack and sleeping bag from the backseat, Mr. Clarksdale said in a rush, “Don’t forget they’re probably watching the house. If you so much as step outside to smoke, we’ll have to face this in court.”
Wesley slammed the door and shouted as he walked toward the house, “Why in hell would I step outside to smoke? I don’t think a little nicotine on the walls is going to hurt the resale value.”
The boards under Wesley’s feet creaked as he walked across the porch. He turned on his flashlight as Mr. Clarksdale drove away. He opened the front door and searched the room before stepping inside. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls and cobwebs filled every corner.
Wesley glanced at his watch, rolled out his sleeping bag by the door, and said with a raised voice, “If you’re planning on trying to scare me, you’re going to be disappointed. I’m going to lay down right here by the door, get a good night’s sleep, and walk out of here as soon as the sun cracks the horizon.”
Wesley waited several long seconds and listened for a response. He heard a tree limb tap the side of the house and the soft creak of a board upstairs. A smile spread across Wesley’s face, and he shined his light up the stairway on the other side of the room. There was nothing at the top of the stairs but a broken window.
Wesley shook his head and said, “Good night.”
He unzipped his sleeping bag and placed an electric lantern on the floor a few feet away. On the low setting, the lantern dimly lit the room enough that he felt sure no one could sneak up on him. Despite what he said, he had no plans on sleeping.
After wrapping himself in his sleeping bag, Wesley slipped a small video camera out of his pocket. He made sure the video screen was on dim, changed the settings to night vision, and mumbled to himself, “I’m ready when you are, you frauds.”
The storm outside settled into a steady rain and time seemed to crawl by as Wesley tried to keep a diligent watch. From his position, he could see both of the dark doorways in the room and the stairway. Only the unmistakable sound of footsteps upstairs prevented him from drifting off to sleep.
Wesley considered going upstairs and confronting whoever was trying to frighten him, but he felt sure that they had some elaborate trap set up and waiting. This confrontation would be on his terms, not theirs. His eyes slowly closed for several long seconds, and when he forced them open again, he saw something at the top of the stairs.
Lightning flashed through the window by the upstairs landing and for a moment, he saw a child of maybe eight years old. Her dress was a hundred years out of date, and her skin was too white to be natural. A moment later, the darkness returned, and all he could see was the girl’s dark, unmoving outline by the window.
Wesley positioned his video camera to record what happened next. He blinked and stared at the screen when he couldn’t see the child with thermal imaging. He glanced back up the stairs, and he felt his heart quicken when he saw her outline was still standing frozen and waiting. A chill ran down his spine; he could feel her watching him.
Wesley’s voice was not as sure as he would’ve liked, but he forced himself to say, “You’re not going to fool me. There’s no such thing as ghosts.”
In the blink of an eye, the child vanished. Wesley let out a slow breath, but an instant later, the apparition was standing over him. Her eyes were dark, never-ending pits, and even though he was terrified, he couldn’t look away.
Somehow, Wesley knew as he let out a long slow breath that it would be his last. He wanted to fight, to scream, to run- but the void called and his soul answered.
Author Bio:
When Eddie D. Moore isn’t playing with his grandchildren, he is driving and visiting strange new worlds via audiobooks, or he is lost in his imagination writing his own tales. Pick up a copy of Poe-ish Tales Forevermore today! You’ll be glad you did if you can sleep tonight.
