Halloween Horror

I felt it last week. A presence in the house.

It began one night while I was feeding the baby. It was only 7:00pm but very dark. The only light was from a soft yellow polar bear nightlight and the glow-in-the-dark planets hanging from the ceiling. I sat rocking the baby and feeding him his bottle. It was quiet and peaceful. Kenzie was reading in her room with Daddy.

Suddenly I felt a chill. I looked around. Neptune was slowly rocking back and forth from the ceiling. A moment ago, it was still. I started to get that prickly feeling on the back of my neck. I looked down at Ketch, his breathing slow, the bottle nearly gone. He was asleep.

I stood up and carefully carried him to his crib. I lay him down in between his stuffed Raggedy Anne and Andy dolls. I closed the door silently and decided to shake off the creepy feeling following me out.

Day 1: I woke in the middle of night. I checked the video monitor and the screen was blank. The baby must still be asleep. I looked at the Kenzie's audio monitor, the lights flickered. Hmm... odd. It could just be her sound machine setting it off. I did have it turned up pretty loud to "wave" mode.

There it was again.

I heard a soft groan, barely audible without my hearing aids in. I grabbed the video monitor and switched it to Kenzie's room. I didn't see anything moving. I sat there, not breathing, worried I would miss something. After a minute or two, I switched the video monitor back to the baby's room.

With a final sigh of relief, I checked my phone; midnight. I closed my eyes.

<Click> The video monitor switched on, lighting the dark room. I grabbed for my glasses off the nightstand. The baby was moving. Just barely.

My kids are sleepers. They rarely ever even kick off the monitors. This is weird.

I laid there, wide awake, watching and listening. The video monitor clicked off about two minutes later. At some point I fell back asleep.

2:30am I jolt upright. The baby is crying. Video monitor blazing. I hear another noise, the audio monitor was crackling. I jump up, glasses still on, and stumble down the stairs. I am thrown forward, face first onto the wood floor. I looked back at the culprit. Dan's hockey bag was blocking the entire hallway.

Both kids are crying. The only light on downstairs is a nightlight illuminating the hallway to the bedrooms. I pause outside their rooms, one last hope that they have fallen back asleep in the 10 seconds it took to get downstairs, and the 2 minutes it took to pick myself up off the ground and find my glasses. Silence.

I slowly and quietly open the door to Kenzie's room. I can only see a crumpled blob laying on the bed, that must be her, still asleep. I leave the door ajar and turn to open the baby's door.

His room feels cold. It's quiet. I contemplate finishing the night on the twin mattress on the floor of his room. The glow-in-the-dark planets darkened hours ago. I crept to the edge of his crib and peaked in. It only took a moment to see why he was wailing only moments ago.

I snatched him up, eyes popping open as I lifted. Screams rising from his tiny body. Liquid coming from his nose. I heard a cough behind me and turned. Standing in the doorway was a person no bigger than Kenzie. Hair in a rats nest, faced tipped down, but eyes looking up at me. She was clutching a stuffed bear. Liquid from her nose glistening in the nightlight.

As I started to feel my own scream rising in my throat, she turned and ran toward me, footy pajamas softly squishing the carpet. A cry escaping her mouth. It was Kenzie, but it didn't look like her. Something was different. The baby began to wail in my arms, as Kenzie cried out.

I picked her up and carried both of them to the living room. I was afraid to turn on the light for fear of what I knew to be true. I set both of them down on the couch and reached for the light switch.

They both screamed when the light came on. I looked at them. Eyes red and blotchy, hot to the touch, thick ropes of snot coming from both nostrils. It had them. The virus!

My gut told me to run, but instead I went to work administering Tylenol, sucking snot, and wiping off their faces. By the time we finished they resembled humans but I couldn't be sure. After putting them both back to bed I bathed in sanitizer and said a prayer that I wouldn't be infected. I passed out just before sunrise.

Morning came moments later. 6am to be exact. I rushed downstairs for another round of clean up. The baby lay on his play mat uninterested in his hanging toys. Eyes scanning the room, possibly looking for a victim.

<Swat> Not interested.

The young lady appears to be trying to attack me. She is relentless and won't stop until I am infected. I try to run away but she sadly says "hug" and I am forced to squat down and open my arms. I believe they have implanted me with a microchip so I must do as they say. For being so small they seem incredibly intelligent.

Hours later a booming deep voice is calling downstairs. I am getting even more nervous but I am not sure why. He appears in a robe holding a tissue, only he isn't sad. He heads for the medicine cabinet in the kitchen searching for sustenance. He pulls out several pills and swallows them. He turns on me and speaks in his ultra deep voice. For a moment I think I recognize him as my husband. I push those thoughts aside, Dan's voice isn't this deep and he never comes down before a shower and jeans.

Luckily he doesn't wait for an answer and turns and leaves. I grab a Lysol wipe and clean up whatever he touched. They won't get me. I won't let them.

The day is long and lonely. No one seems to be hungry, happy or coherent. I make the best of it, trying to douse the house in sanitizer the best I can.  I don't have any protective clothing, snow mittens and a ski mask are the best I can find.  I put them on, but it makes me a target, so I put them away in order to blend in. Bedtime comes early for everyone and I can feel a headache coming on. I close my eyes knowing it won't be long before I will be up again.

You can't hide Mommy...

Day 2:  The virus has infected me. I can feel it slowly eating away my energy and good humor. I am still trying to fight it, although I have given into my issued uniform of fleece pants and an old T-shirt. The little ones seem to be dressed in footy pajamas. I believe they are trying to brainwash me, but I have no energy to protest. We sit for hours watching endless loops of Frozen.

Day 3:  I fear the virus has officially taken over. I have lost my will to fight it. I sit with glazed eyes staring at a box with moving pictures. The brainwashing has finally taken hold. I can't get the words "Let it go" out of my head. I can only assume they are talking about my will to live.  I can't breathe. My throat is sandpaper. Sleep in impossible although my eyes are heavy.  I am officially a Mombie.




 

 

The Possessed Doll

In honor of Halloween I have two scary stories to share. This is the first.

This story is very real, although you may be skeptical. Those who have seen the doll know there is something behind those vacant eyes.  I saw that the movie "Annabel" was based on a true story. So I thought I would share my true story.

EEK!

The Doll:

Easter 1980-something: I found my basket in the upstairs closet, but I was told I had one more big present to find.

After having exhausted my search, and knowing where it probably was, I headed for the downstairs bathroom. It was always an eerie room I just didn't like. There was no bath, just a shower with a frosted door, an off-white toilet, and orange with brown and silver diamond zig zagged wall paper. (It still looks the same.) It was always freezing.

I pushed open the door, and even though I knew my present was in there, I still let out a gasp when she was staring back at me in the mirror. My new doll. The Cabbage Patch Little Miss Executive. She was standing up in her box inside the closed shower stall... her gaze, distorted from the frosted glass of the shower door, didn't look innocent. Her pigtailed, red hair and freckles would rival Chucky.

A sampling of some Halloween décor, notice the doll next to the pumpkin.

I opened the shower door with my eyes closed and snatched her out. It wasn't long before things started getting weird. I had a feeling she was moving when I wasn't in the room. Even now as I write this I can feel the prickles on the back of my neck. Whenever I walked into a room she was in, it felt chilly and... off.

Our house was a tri-level. The lower level held the eerie bathroom and my playroom, next to the family room. My playroom had brown shag carpet and vertical striped wall paper in creams and browns. I had a small strawberry shortcake kitchen set, high chair, stroller, and cribs for my dolls.

One night my parents went out to the store. Yes by todays standards I was too young to be alone, but back then you relied on neighbors if your kids needed any help. My friend from next door was at my house and we were playing in my play room. We decided to take a break and drink some cherry kool-aid. We ran upstairs to the kitchen and set out 2 Garfield mugs my parents got from McDonalds.

Remember these?

 

I filled them to the brim with the red liquid and carefully carried them back down to the playroom.  It was dark outside and the lamp was illuminating the room.  The Doll with her soft white body and hard peach face with freckles, sat undressed, at my white wooden high chair. I set to the two full mugs on her tray.

"Do you want to play a game?" I asked.
"Sure!" My friend said.

We headed to the top floor to find a game from the closet.

As we crossed back into the threshold of the playroom, with Monopoly in hand, I froze. Heart beating fast, I surveyed the room. My friend stood next to me, looking at the Garfield mugs.

One of them was propped on the lip of the highchair tipped toward the Doll. It was still full and could have just been placed their absentmindedly by one of us. The other one was completely empty except for a red ring around the bottom of the glass.

The Doll had red droplets down her soft white body.

We both screamed and my friend cried. "I'm going home!" I grabbed the doll and ran through the house and upstairs to our junk room. I threw her in and shut the door, never touching her again until Halloween, years later.

1994:  She had been packed away for years. I was telling this very story to my friends at school. They were laughing but intrigued.

It was around Halloween and we decided to meet at my house after school for a Ouija board séance. Why not? There had been other "disturbances" in the house since the Doll incident, but I choose to not believe.

We set up the board in my old playroom, which was now a computer room. I dug out some candles and closed the blinds.

We called upon a spirit and I can't remember what was said or who it was... but I decided to ask about the Doll. Of course first I needed to find her.

I pulled down the box labeled "Dolls" my mom had packed long ago. She was sitting right on top. Hard plastic face smashed in and one open eye. It definitely took the creepy factor up about 150%.

One of my friends shook in excitement. My other two stared at the doll as if it was about to come after them with a butcher knife.

We called upon the spirit again and I asked: "Is this Doll possessed?" The Ouija pointed to "Yes"

At an arrogant age of 15 I wasn't impressed. Yet.

"If this Doll is possessed, let her blow out this match." I struck the match box and held it to her face. The match went out.

My stomach clenched in fear and excitement. My friends shifted and started looking for the exit. I needed to see for myself again.

"If this Doll is possessed, let her blow out this match." I struck the match box again and held it to her face. The match went out.

Over and over I tried to keep the match lit for more than a few seconds before it went out.

Proof in my 15 year old mind that she was in fact possessed.

2001:  After being packed away for another 7 years, we decided to throw an epic Halloween party. I was in college and invited everyone I knew.

After 5 years of Halloween parties, my mom was coming up with ideas to make this years the best ever. She decided to pull out The Doll.

She drew scar marks on her face and strung her up like a marionette. At this point her eyes only opened if she was laying down, and closed when she was stood up. Still as scary as ever, so we added her to the décor.

She also setup the old playroom like the exorcist.  Now this was WAY before you could go to a Halloween store and buy a mechanical exorcist doll.  No. You had to make your own.

With a spinning motor, a Styrofoam head, and some face makeup she created a truly terrifying exorcist dummy. She added a wig, nightgown, and creepy hands and set the strobe light on her. As guests went to the bathroom they could see her through the mirrored closet doors.

I swear the possessed dolls spirit transferred into the exorcist dummy.  Disturbing was an understatement, as we turned on the motor and watched with horrified faces as the head started spinning in slow motion and then in the blink of an eye it was twirling so fast I thought it was going to spin apart. Only moments later to slow and pause looking right at us.

2014: The doll still resides at my parents house. Packed away. I refused to allow my parents to bring her to me, for fear that something horrible would happen on the trip. Also, I am terrified that spirit will haunt me again... or worse, my children.