A HAUNTED HOUSE

You’d love it!” Michelle Franklin said, grinning delightedly, though her friend couldn’t see her, of course.

Angie, on the other end of the phone, laughed. “I’ll bet! I wish I could be there.”

Michelle said, “I wish you could be, too! This will be the best thing yet! Those kids will get the life scared out of them!”

“What do Inky and Ghost think about it?” Angie wondered. The two black cats were middle-aged, and they disliked change.

“They don’t care much for it,” Michelle said. “But I’m putting them in my bedroom so they won’t bother us.”

“So tell me what you’ve done,” Angie said. “The parade won’t start for a few minutes.”

Michelle described her efforts in detail and was pleased that her friend sounded enthusiastic.

“Ooh, that sounds perfect!” Angie exclaimed.

“So, what do you think? Scary?”

“It sounds pretty terrifying. Take pictures for me?”

Michelle grinned and agreed, then hung up the phone. Time to put on her costume.

***

The doorbell rang, and the outside light went off. Michelle switched on the automated wires, smoothed her black wig, checked her fangs, and opened the door.

In a deep voice, she said, “Come in,” smiling so the fangs showed in the porch light. “Vould you like a tour?”

When the kids yelled, “YES!” and the woman accompanying them nodded, she ushered four kids and one parent into the front room.

“Velcome to my home.”

The little group filed into the darkened room while Michelle stealthily slammed the door, making them all jump. Orange lights went on under the machine-generated fog, outlining a path leading around the room. The first child hesitantly started down this lane, the others following, with the woman last.

The music started: Danse Macabre. Then the strobe light flickered to life. A breeze from a hidden fan swept across their faces. In the flashing light, the kids gazed wide-eyed at the eerie creatures on the drapes and walls. Suddenly, a sickly odor wafted in with the breeze, and Michelle could hear a few of her visitors gagging.

At one end of the room, a rocking chair moved slightly, the skeleton sitting in it seeming to rock itself. One or two kids gasped.

Then images flickered in the center of the room: a large dark castle, a grotesque gargoyle, a sinister clown, and a monster with glowing red eyes, sharp fangs, and clawed hands.

As the kids reached the middle of the room, a curtain opened in front of them and a crouch-ing green goblin appeared, holding a bloody knife. There were two more gasps, one by the woman, Michelle thought.

In the strobe light, oversized black spiders, bats, and gargoyles seemed to surround them. Several children shrank back, and one smaller child rushed to the adult and grabbed her hand.

Michelle was thrilled to see that all four children were breathing hard as they returned to the front door. They nearly forgot their candy in their rush to leave, gasping and chattering excitedly.

Another set of kids arrived, all of whom were aged eight or older. They entered and exited just as quickly as the first group.

The next trick-or-treaters were five quite young ones and two adults, a man and a woman. Both groups left noisily, rattled as they walked through the room.

A fourth group of kids was halfway through the door when, from out of nowhere, a ghostly stagecoach raced into the room. Sweat streamed off the backs of galloping horses, the driver’s whip lashed the air. Bandits zoomed down on the stagecoach, yelling and shooting guns. Bandanas tied around their faces. Bullets whizzed past the trick-or-treaters. And then the stagecoach reached the opposite end of the room and vanished, as if it had driven right through the wall.

Michelle gasped, having no time to do anything but slap her hand across her mouth. She turned to the door and managed an uncertain peek at the newest group, who were backing off the porch quickly, their eyes wide. She shut the front door and stood inside, staring around the room and breathing hard.

The ghost stagecoach and bandits didn’t reappear for the rest of that Halloween evening, but the anticipation that it might was even more thrilling than Michelle would have thought. She was sorry she had to tell Angie that she had no pictures of the best part of the evening.

***

"As I explained already,” Michelle said to the insurance adjuster, "it just came barreling through the room and did a lot of damage. Isn't it your job to pay for damages to a policyholder?"

"It is, madam. I just need to see if your claim is something our company covers for your particular policy. Can you tell me, again, exactly what happened? In a bit greater detail, please. Maybe include what led to this ‘situation.’"

"Well, I decided to do a little Haunted House this Halloween. I'd shown a few parties of kids and adults through the house. You can see where I've done a few things."

"Yes, madam. Very nice. The fog effect is a nice touch – this claim didn't have anything to do with the fog, did it? If this was an issue caused by carelessness..."

"No!" she protested – Perhaps too much? thought the adjuster. “This wasn't my fault. The stagecoach did this!”

"You put together a stagecoach effect? Very nice. I don't see it here; did you move it out to the back porch?"

"It wasn't MY stagecoach! It showed up while I was giving a tour."

"It 'showed' up? How did it do that?"

"I don't know! It looked ghostly, though. There were bandits, too!"

"Yes, madam. Are these 'bandits' not here, either?"

"No. I think they were ghosts, too."

"'Ghosts?”

"Yes!"

"I'm sorry, madam. As you can see, your policy specifically states, 'If spirits were involved in the action being claimed, the agency is not obliged to provide remunerations.' I am very sure 'spirits' were the cause of this stagecoach and bandits.

“In the future, please drink responsibly."