Michael Dahl - Frightmares: A Creepy Collection of Scary Stories

Dear Reader,

I LIVE IN A HAUNTED HOUSE.

Not everyone believes me, but Ive seen the ghost. Her name is Helen. One night I stood at the end of my hallway and saw Helen glide into my bedroom.

Thats the only word for it. Glide.

I slept on the couch that night.

The previous owners told me Helens name. They did not tell me what she looked like. I found that out for myself.

It seems we all find out what scares us when we are alone.

Now its your turn to be alone. Alone with this book. Just you and the pages and the stories. Youll find out what scares the people in these stories.

At the same time, you might also find out what scares you...

Six-year-old Brandon Spode hated climbing the stairs at night.

Time for bed, Brandon, said his mother. Up to your room.

I dont want to, Brandon moaned.

Dont tell me its the man again, said Mrs. Spode.

Hes sitting up there, said Brandon.

Mrs. Spode stood at the bottom of the stairs, her hands on her hips, and looked up. Theres nothing there, she said.

Mrs. Spode had braces on her legs, so she never climbed the stairs herself. Her bedroom was on the main floor.

Brandon pointed. Hes right there.

Thats a shadow, said Mrs. Spode. The light in the hallway makes a shadow. You know what a shadow is, dont you?

Brandon nodded. He knew what a shadow was. But he also knew that the man on the stairs wasnt made by light and shadows.

The man sat there every night on the top step. His skin was the color of a red crayon that had melted on the sidewalk. His eyebrows were thick and bushy. He had a wide grin that stretched his face tight, like the skin of a balloon. Three reddish bumps grew on his forehead.

I dont want to go to bed, said Brandon.

Mrs. Spode was tired of having the same argument every night. This time Ill stand right here and watch you go up the stairs, she said. All right?

Brandon didnt move.

Its getting late, young man, his mother said.

Slowly, Brandon took the first step.

The man on the stairs never moved. When Brandon had first seen him, he thought the man was a statue. But when he passed him, Brandon could hear breathing. Then one night, he saw the man blink.

Hurry up, Brandon. I cant stand here all night, can I? said Mrs. Spode.

The boy approached the figure at the top step.

Keep going, said his mother.

Brandon heard breathing. He could see white teeth gleaming in the stretched-out grin.

The boy shut his eyes. He kept climbing. He put his right hand against the wall to guide him. Brandon stumbled a bit when his stocking feet reached the hallway. He was at the top. He opened his eyes and looked down at his mother.

See, I told you, said Mrs. Spode, crossing her arms. Theres no man sitting on the stairs, now is there?

No, Brandon said softly.

Then get to bed, ordered his mother. The woman turned and saw a man standing behind her. A man with a red face, bumps on his forehead, and a wide, stretchy smile.

Upstairs, Brandon heard a scream and then a thud as his mother fainted and hit the floor.

Noah and his older brother, Sky, both folded their arms and stared at their parents across the dinner table.

I dont believe it, said Sky.

You only have to share a bedroom for a week, their mother explained patiently.

I want my own room, Sky said, pouting.

As soon as we are finished painting, said their father, you will each have your own room.

This place is creepy, said Noah.

Their mother sighed and said, Its not creepy. Theres so much sunshine and fresh air.

Its got sunshine, thought Noah, because there arent any trees.

Their new home had been a boarding house for loggers a hundred years ago. It sat in the middle of boggy fields. The trees for miles around had all been cut down. There was nothing around but whispering cattails and jabbering frogs. The driveway was dirt, and it didnt meet another road for at least five miles. The giant house had four porches, a front parlor with five sofas, a sauna built into the side of a hill, and more than a dozen bedrooms.

Creepy, Noah had decided.

That night, the brothers trudged angrily up to the third floor of the new house and got ready for bed. Sky rested his head on his pillow and stared over at his brothers bed. I hope the ghosts dont keep you awake, he said, smiling.

Noah could see his brothers teeth shine in the darkness. Quit it, Sky, he said.

Oh, you didnt know? said Sky. Yeah, Dad told me this place is haunted.

I said, quit it!

One of the old loggers died outside during a blizzard, Sky continued. He went out to pee, and the door locked behind him.

I mean it!

He knocked and knocked, Sky said, but no one heard him. The wind was too loud. And in the morning, they found him dead on the doorstep, frozen solid.

Yeah, right. Noah rolled his eyes. He didnt believe his brother at all.

His hand was frozen in midair, Sky continued. Like he was trying to knock.

Im telling Dad in the morning if you dont stop, said Noah.

Morning is a long way away, said Sky. Then he snapped off the bedside lamp they both shared and turned over to sleep. Well, good night, bro.

Noah didnt say anything. He gripped the covers and listened to the wind as it rumbled across the ancient roof.

Its June. Theres no chance of a blizzard, Noah thought.

He grew tired, and he finally drifted off to sleep.

But in the middle of the night, he woke up with a start. What was that noise? Just the wind again, Noah told himself.

Why did Sky have to tell me that stupid story about the dead logger anyway? Noah wondered. Even if there was a ghost, what would he be doing up here on the third floor? Hed still be outside, knocking on the door where he died... right? He took a deep breath and leaned back on his pillow.

Tomorrow night, Noah decided, Ill tell Sky a spooky story. A story about a ghost with burning eyes. Let him try to sleep peacefully tonight, though

Knock, knock.

Noah slowly peered over his covers.

Knock, knock.

The sound came from their half-open door.

Cut it out, Sky, said Noah. He glanced over toward his brother. It was hard to see in the dim moonlight, but it looked like Skys bed was empty.

Knock, knock.

Noah stared at the door. A shadow stood in the hallway. Tall and heavy, like their father. It didnt move.

Dad? croaked Noah. His tongue and lips felt dry.

The shadow grew darker, then faded away. Noah blinked a few times. My eyes are tired, he thought. Thats all.

Sky, he called weakly.

He heard another sound. Not exactly a knock, but... more like a bump. And it came from beyond Skys bed. It came from their closet.