2014

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The House of Blood

“Robert Dear, there’s another one!”

Robert walked out of the bedroom in his robe and slippers, carefully sucking his first pipe of the morning. Indeed it was another one; a message written in blood on the wall.

 

Dear Interlopers;

It has now been two weeks since you moved in; I expected you to leave much sooner than this. You have proven too foolish to leave, and even the most dire threats scrawled on the wall in blood have left you unmoved. Instead, you argued about whether the blood was human or not.

I have had enough. It is now time for drastic action. If you don’t want to suffer cruelly ironic deaths within these cursed walls, I suggest you pay attention.

 

“Seems rather forceful, doesn’t it Mary?”

“Yes, Robert. Positively demanding, I’d say.”

 

First, you are to copy down my words every day before cleaning the walls. I know the maid appreciates the extra work as it helps her pay for Community College, but I do not like having my words eradicated by harsh cleansers with no permanent record.

Second, the cat is to be kept out of the hall at night; it keeps trying to lick up the blood as I write. Honestly, people, control your pet!

 

“But Fluffy would never...”

“I’m afraid she does, Mary. I’ve seen the bloody paw-prints myself. I suppose it’s good to be certain she wasn’t the one writing on the wall.”

“Very, Dear.”

 

Third, I want a dictionary; spelling mistakes are embarrassing. Just leave it open on the hall table and I will do the rest.

 

“Well at least the writer values good spelling.”

 

Fourth, Robert is to stop dipping his finger into the blood drips and drawing a happy face at the end of my missives. I am a serious writer.

 

Robert tapped the wall twice for the eyes. “Rather cheeky, I think. But I draw them so well, don’t you think, Darling?”

“Yes Dear. Your happy faces brighten up my day.”

 

Fifth, I’m going to need a new source of blood. Grandma has run dry. If you don’t want me to use one of you, you’ll have to start luring hitchhikers to their doom.

 

“That explains why she wouldn’t answer the breakfast bell. Should we call an ambulance?”

“No point really, Darling. Most people fare rather poorly without blood.”

 

If we all cooperate, I am sure this can be a successful and productive haunting.

Signed, The House.

 

Robert took another pull from his pipe. “Do you think it’s serious, Mary?”

“Very likely, Dear. Otherwise we need an exterminator.”

“I don’t think exterminators deal with this sort of thing. Perhaps a priest?”

“Dear God, no! Not in MY house.” Mary let out a long sigh. “I’ll call Madeline. We need this off the wall before tonight’s dinner party.”

“Mom? Dad? Could you move over a little?”

“Whatever for, Cressida dear?”

“I want to take a picture and then post the letter on Writer's Digest. It’s perfect for this week’s writing prompt!”