The Monster of the Haunted Block, a Teaser

Just something I've been kicking around....

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“This building is haunted,” Cassidy told me.

She was a statuesque black woman with a full afro, and rich dark creamy skin. She wore a halter top, and bell bottom jeans, a seventies outfit that fit with the psychedelic seventies decor of her apartment. But mainly, I what I was noticing was the bare midriff and the small golden chain that dangled from her belly button piercing.

Every time she spoke, she took a breath, the delicate muscles of her abdomen flexed, and the chain moved a little.

I had a desperate urge to seize that chain between my teeth, nuzzle that smooth flesh and look for places to lick.

“Excuse me?” I asked. “I was thinking of something.”

“The whole building,” she swore. “Haunted. I swear.”

“Really?” I asked. “How so. Sounds. Sights.”

“Everything,” Cassidy swore, her lips pressed together. I’d never kissed a black girl. I wondered what it would be like.. “There have always been strange noises. Bumps, creaks, moans and howls.”

“It’s an old building,” I pointed out. “Old ventilation, old heating system, everything's aging. You’d be surprised at the noises that will make.”

“Moans and howls,” she asked.

“Drafts and temperature fluctuations. It can sound almost human,” I told her.

“Nothing human made those noises,” she insisted. “And there’s more.”

“Like.”

“Things moving around. Objects that are there, and then later on you come by, they’re not there any more. Chests. Boxes. Furniture.”

“Kind of like movers?” I asked.

“But no one has been by,” she insisted. “And some of these things, too heavy for a human to lift.”

“I see.”

“Mysterious footsteps when no one is around.”

“Old building.”

“Lights going on and off.”

“Old wiring.”

“Sightings. There have always been sightings of a ghostly figure stalking the halls,” she said. “Stories say it’s the ghost of the hanged highwayman.”

“The hanged highwayman?”

“Dirk Dobbin,” she explained. “He owned the property this building was erected on. Back in the 17th century, he was a notorious robber. Huge man, practically a giant. Would rob up and down the coast. But he was so strong, no one could stand up to him. One night, his neighbors gathered and set fire to his house while he was sleeping.”

“He burned to death?” That was gruesome.

“No,” she laughed. “He ran out in his nightshirt into an ambush, and they threw a sheet over him to blind him, tied him up and hung him. The house burned down, and the land was sold. But for a hundred years, they said his ghost haunted the countryside. When this place was built, ninety years ago, they say the ghost was the first occupant.”

I shrugged.

“There’s always stories with these old buildings. Half of them are made up.”

“I’ve seen him,” she insisted.

I raised an eyebrow..

“Really?”

“Two weeks ago,” she said. “I was coming up, I turned a corner. And there it was. It was big, hulking, and it made a clopping sound as it walked, like it had hooves. And it wore a sheet over it.”

I raised an eyebrow.

"A sheet? As in..."

"As in a ghostly apparition, not one of those other kind!"

I nodded.

“What did you do?”

“It didn’t see me,” she said. “So I stepped back behind the corner. But when I looked again... It was gone!”

“As if it had gone into an apartment?” I asked.

“No apartments down that hall,” she said. “It’s a dead end. It just vanished. That’s when I called you guys. I didn’t know you’d broken up.”

“We’re not broken up,” I said. “We’re all just taking some time off, that’s all.”

She nodded.

“Well,” she said, “I’m glad you came.”

“I want to come,” I said, and then blushed slightly. “I mean, I wanted to come the moment I heard. This seems like the sort of... thing I want to get into.”

“There have always been reports and stories,” she said, “but in the last few months it’s increased until it’s constant. Most of the residents have moved out. I’m one of the last ones left, and I’m going.”

She hesitated and then whispered.

“They say that some of them didn’t move, the ghost took them.”

I shrugged.

"Don't take this the wrong way," I said, "but I've been around, and in more ways than one. Ninety per cent of the time, it's not ghosts or monsters, it's just greedy old men scheming to rob people."

"And the other ten per cent?"

I shrugged.

She looked pleased with that.

"People always have to believe in something unearthly," I told her. "Me, I like getting down to earth."

Her eyes sparkled.

"Down to earth, uh? You mean down and dirty?"

I smiled back.

"Downright filthy."

I let my eyes linger on her luscious body, and imagined what she'd look like naked. Those high heels she was wearing would make great handlebars.

"Well," she said, "I've got a shower, if you get too filthy. It's hot and wet."

"Good to know."

"So you'll take the job."

I nodded.

"Let's say I like the lay of the land around here. A lot of curves to watch out for. I'm sure I'll find it entertaining."

Her eyes sparkled.

"Glad to hear that," she said. "That makes me happy. I'd enjoy seeing more of you. A lot more."

"I like to please," I told her. "Any questions?"

"Just one."

"I'm all yours."

She licked her lips.

“Well,” she said, “I’ve been noticing the way you keep looking at me. And I kind of like it. So it got me wondering, red, does the carpet match the drapes?”

I smiled.

"Only one way for you to find out..."