This story is loosely based off of something my Aunt and her friend saw one day.
It was night when Henry, Joe, Frank, and I were heading home from working on stage crew for the school play. I remember that night better then any night I’ve ever lived through, but I wish I could forget all of it. No matter how much I try to block it from my mind, I can’t let go of it.
It was mid October and the leaves looked like fire, slowly dropping from the dying trees. The wind danced around us as we walked down Maple Street. I looked at all the lights that were on in the houses around us and wondered how the neighbors were enjoying their evenings.
I always loved walking around at night. The world always seemed much quieter and more peaceful. Everyone was settling in for the night and no one was out and about. Except for the wind, the only sounds that we could hear were the sounds of our footsteps on the rough pavement.
We were going to walk back to our homes, but we stayed together to keep each other company. We were a block away from my house when Henry tapped me on the shoulder.
“Hey, Tim,” he smirked, “Look over there. It’s you’re favorite neighbor!”
He pointed to the oldest house on the block, where Mr. Lockhart lives. Lockhart was the strangest man on our street. He never smiled at anybody. He never waved to anybody. He stared down anybody who walked in front of his house. I always thought that he was just antisocial until the summer day he invited me in for a soda. I kept walking and he kept asking if I wanted that drink. He then started swearing at me and screaming at me and I broke out into a run. Ever since, I always avoided that man, but this night, we had walked in front of his house by mistake.
“Shut up, Henry,” I said, “You know I don’t like this guy!”
Frank laughed, “What’s the matter? When he offered you pop, he said Coke instead of Pepsi?”
“That wasn’t even funny, Frank.” I sighed, “You always try to be the funny one in our group and none of your jokes are ever funny.”
Joe cut in, “Wait a second, who’s this guy? I don’t think you ever told me about him.”
I quickly told him about Lockhart and his eyes grew wide. Joe was a big horror enthusiast and anything out of the ordinary interested him.
Henry started to laugh, “Hey Tim, I’ll give you ten bucks if you ring his doorbell and moon him when he walks out!”
“No!” I got mad, “I’m not going up to his door!”
“Besides,” Henry sounded disappointed, “His house looks empty.”
“Then I’ll give you ten bucks if you look inside his window.” Frank suggested.
“For the last time,” I started getting red faced, “I’m not going up to that house!”
“What if I go with you?” Joe said eagerly.
“C’mon Tim,” Henry pleaded, “It’s an easy ten bucks. An old man like that’s probably asleep anyway.”
Everyone looked at me and expected a no. I sighed and said, “Alright, but I won’t be there for long.”
Joe smiled and we slowly crept through the front yard. My legs shook as we crouched into the cold grass in front of the window. I peered through, but it was too dark to see anything.
“…What the hell,” Joe muttered. I looked and saw that his eyes were bulging and his mouth was gaping in shock. I turned back to the window and waited a moment for my eyes to adjust. What I saw haunts me to this day.
The living room was empty except for thirteen chairs, all occupied. They were set up in a circle with the thirteenth chair in the middle. In all of the chairs were what looked like children, but none of them moved. I realized that the ones facing me had no eyes.
Lockhart sat in the thirteenth chair. He rolled his head around his neck and hit something in between his legs. After hearing a faint beat, I figured that he held a drum there. I looked at him and saw that he wore a wolfish mask, his eyes were closed.
With every beat, one of the children seemed to lift their arms slightly off of their legs. None of them looked like they were breathing. As he beat the drum faster and faster, the children seemed to move their arms along with the beat.
Joe and I couldn’t move. Our knees were glued down and our eyes were fixed on the horrific scene in front of us.
In an instant, Lockhart stopped and stared into my eyes.
We screamed and ran as fast as we could to my house, not caring whether or not the others followed us.
The next day, Lockhart’s house was empty and for sale. Fred and I swore never to tell anybody about the incident.
