CLOUDS OF GRAY

They had arrived, and the house was now theirs to gaze upon; it stood there, right on top of the hill, just as it had on the photos they had seen. Such a beautiful, strange old house...
  The real estate agent had told them that the house was built in the 1800's, and that it had quite a history. It was known around these parts as a Haunted House, with a lot of rumors swirling about the house's previous owners in the community. But Claire didn't mind; this was the house she wanted. She could feel it, ever since she'd stumbled over it online. It was her dream house; the perfect house to begin her new life with her husband, Aaron. The perfect place to raise a child...
   Aaron parked their car beside the real estate agent's Mercedes; he was already here, waiting for them. He shut down the engine and walked around the car to help Claire out. Aaron had always been described by his friends and family as "The kid with a heart of Gold", which was why he insisted that his pregnant girlfriend shouldn't worry about anything, and should always be helped. She was early in her third trimester now, and it was quite obvious.
  Together, they walked up to the house, excited to see it with their own eyes, excited to move in, excited to start a whole new life, especially with a kid on the way.

Too bad the happy, exciting moments weren't going to last long.

The real estate agent showed them around the house, a completely unnecessary thing to do since they had already made their decision; they were buying this house, no matter the price. They weren't really paying attention to the things that Martin, the real estate agent, was telling them, which was probably a good thing; if they'd just taken the time and listened, then maybe the horrors to come wouldn't have happened at all. Maybe they'd happen to some other people, horrible people, people that deserved to be punished. But alas; their minds were set on this house, so both Aaron and Claire were mostly looking around, deep in their own thoughts. They didn't listen to Martin, therefore not noticing how carefully his words were chosen, how little he talked about each room, and how spooked he looked. The second his work was done, he flew out the door, telling them to enjoy the night and come to the office the next morning to deliver the key. This was, in fact, just a "test run", to see if Aaron and Claire enjoyed staying in the house. To be absolutely certain that they wouldn't change their minds after sleeping here a night or two, or finding out that the neighborhood, the town or the school wasn't to their liking. But they didn't think there would be any problems. They were good people, Claire and Aaron. They just wanted a nice place to live. They didn't ask for any of this.

Sometimes, bad things happen to good people‚ for no obvious reasons. It's just the way things are.

They slept fine in the big, empty house, feeling that this was the place for them, feeling as they were already home, that this was home, the place they had been searching for the whole life, the place where they would grow old together, where they'd raise their children, where they would live happily ever after.
  They spent the following day taking a look at the town, the school, the neighborhood. They went by the real-estate office, telling them that they intended to stay another night in the house, that it would take too much time to get home after their walk through their town. They didn't speak to Martin, didn't even bother to ask where he was. If they had asked, if they had learned what he'd done, then maybe, just maybe, things would have been different...

On their way home, Aaron and Claire thought about what they were going to have for dinner when they remembered that the house they were living in was nearly empty. There were almost no furnitures apart from the beds that the real estate agency had moved to the house, so that Aaron and Claire could sleep comfortably at night. But they couldn't go to sleep hungry, and since there weren't any food in the house, they needed a convenience store.

The convenience store was, rather conveniently, placed right in the middle of the town. The sky was, at this point, filled with big, large clouds of grey, and a thought rambled through Aaron's head. The thought was this; "Man is neither good nor evil; we're merely different shades of grey." While they were in the convenience store, shopping plain, dull, ordinary things like coffee, tea, bread and so on, this thought grew into something more, and by the time they walked out of the store, Aaron's creative mind had turned this thought into an idea.

When they had walked, say, 42 steps away from the store, they heard a voice. This voice shouted something very plain and ordinary, yet this plain and ordinary thing that the bearer of the voice shouted led to a rather interesting conversation that later would have much to do with how Claire and Aaron's life turned out. Even if they didn't realize it at the time.
"Hey!" Jim shouted after the couple that had just left his store; the couple that Manny, the store clerk, had failed to notify him about, even though he had told him to call whenever someone new came into the store. Jim liked to be "in the know" as he called it. He wanted to know everything; every answer and every mystery, even if some of those mysteries were unexplainable. Come to think of it, he ESPECIALLY wanted to know the unexplainable mysteries. That was the reason he'd moved to this godforsaken town in the first place.
  Aaron and Claire turned around. Claire didn't carry anything; it was Aaron who carried both shopping bags. Not that he minded. Quite the contrary, he loved it. He was a happy man, with a good-looking gal and a baby on the way.
  "What is it?" asked Claire, a smile on her face. She was beautiful, thought Aaron. Stunning, even.
  "Not much. I just wanted to welcome you to the fine state of Washington, and the beautiful small-town of Wakeville. You the new couple that's moving in to the old Gray-house?"
  "I'm sorry, what? The Gray-house?"
Typical, thought Jim. The real-estate agents hadn't even told them about the legacy of the house they were moving into, nor what it was called around here.
  "Yes, the Gray-house. It's the big, ol' house, up on that hill." Jim pointed in what he thought was the direction of the house.
  "Oh, yes. That's ours now. We just came from the real-estate agency and finalized the deal." Aaron smiled, and reached out his hand.
  "I'm Aaron, and this is my long-time girlfriend Claire. Nice to meet you...?"
  "Oh, yes, silly me. I'm Jim, and it's a pleasure to meet you to." Jim's whole face cracked open, and he smiled heartily from ear to ear. They all shook hands, before Jim started to tell the new folks about the colorful history of the Gray-house.
  "Say, you prob'ly haven't heard a lot of the tales surrounding the Gray-house from the real-estate, have you?" Claire had to think before she answered.
  "Eh, no. Not at all actually; we just know that a lot of the local myths plays off the history of the house"
  "Oh, well, myths and myths." Jim smiled mysteriously. "They're much more than just myths. They're stories, with only two things in common."
  "Oh? Well what's that?" said Aaron, mockingly. Even with his job of creating other-worldly art, he was quite the skeptic.
  "Well, for starters, they're all horrible horror stories, and they all use the old Gray-house. In various capacities, of course."
  "Is there any reason for this?" Claire was mildly interested now. She continued; "That all these various tales use the Gray house, I mean. Isn't that kind of..." She trailed off, but Jim saw a jumping-on point here.
  "...weird?" He said, confirming her mistake that, why yes, this was a bit strange. Then again, the Gray house had always been just that: strange.
  "Yes. It is. But it's no secret that the Gray house has always been a place of great tragedy, among other things." Jim paused, artistically. He had told this tale so many times; over and over, to new people that didn't know what they were going into. He wanted to warn them in a different way, but he couldn't. It was against the rules. Plus, it was almost over. Soon, it would all be over...
  "The first family that lived in the house carried the last name of Gray, hence "The Gray House". The fact that it's a grey house might also have had something to do with it, of course. Anyway, it was the father of the Gray family, Maurice Gray, that built the house, back in 1802. He was a normal fellow; wasn't a hint of special about him. He was an up-and-comer in the house business, this being his first house and all, and when the house was finished, he took his family and moved into the house, to check that they'd done an alright job. They had, obviously, as the house still stands today. But that's not the horrible part. The horrible part is that after spending two days in that house, good 'ol Maurice Gray got his double barred shotgun and methodically shot all six of his children, along with his wife."
  "Wow. That's... that's horrible!" Even the always-skeptic Aaron was shocked now.
  "Indeed it is. But that's just the beginning; over the years, worse and worse things have happened over there. You have no idea, no control, over the power that roams in that house. That's why I ask you, deeply and sincerely, to move the fuck outta that house!"
  "Hey! You people, over there!" It was the cop. God, I hate that cop. Always ruining interesting conversations. I bet he's going to say something like, "Hiya, folks." then pause for a short while, only to follow up with "Is this man bothering you?", thus making everyone uncomfortable.

Which was exactly what he did.
He continued his streak of terrible mistakes with taking Aaron and Claire back up to the house, whilst making sure that they spent another time in the Gray house, by saying things like "He's everywhere with these stories" and "There's just no shutting him up!". These things are always followed with a laugh and a smile. These small-town folks have to follow a template, that's how alike they all are.

Jim, on the other hand, knew that this would happen. He'd tried, and failed, creating interest rather than fear. The cop was there to put everything back in place. Yet again, things were working out as they always had. Hopefully, this would be the end. Hopefully...

Aaron and Claire got back to the Gray house; their "home" for the next four hours. In four hours from now, they'd be dead. Might as well enjoy it.

They cooked dinner and had sex; hot, steaming, passionate "we-just-bought-a-house-and-are-having-a-baby-we're-so-happy-"sex. They didn't even use a condom, because, well, they were already having a baby. No harm could be done, as they were both disease-free.
  After the sex, they went to sleep. Claire happily, but Aaron couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. That something bad was about to happen. And that this one, little bad thing would eventually worsen and become just about the worst thing that could happen.

He was right.

Aaron woke up an hour later, drenched in sweat.
The pain was about to start.
He sneaked out of the bed, naked, not caring whether anyone saw him, not caring about the cold, not caring about anything.
He walked out of the bedroom, into the hall, down the stairs, and outside.
He walked towards the shed.
On his way there, he regained control for only a short while, having seen what was about to happen. What whatever was inside him was going to do.
Having regained control, he went down on the ground, gasping for breath, fighting whatever was in control of him, but it was already too late. The wrongs had already been made; these were just the after-shocks.
As soon as Aaron lost control again, his road towards the shed continued.
He kicked open the door to the shed, and located the axe before picking it up and returning to the house, the stairs, the hall and, finally, the bedroom.
Aaron regained control again for a shifting moment, looking at his soon-to-be-wife with a tender, "I'm-so-sorry"-look in his eyes. This only lasted a second, before the axe was raised high, and brought down with impeccable force, on Claire.

Her left leg was now laying beside her, not connected to the body in any way. Claire woke up, screaming; there was blood everywhere, and more was coming. Aaron, or whatever was in control of him, grabbed her by the right leg, and dragged her.

Into the hall.
Down the stairs.
Outside.
Into the woods.
Out of the woods.
Dumping her into the boat by the edge of the lake.

Once out on the lake, Aaron kick-started the birth, pushing the baby out with his hand, running it repeatedly across her belly. When the baby was out, it went directly into the water.

After this vital procedure had been performed, Aaron removed whatever life was left in Claire by slashing her throat, slowly and carefully, getting all the blood into the water. When he was finished with this, he pushed the lifeless body of Claire out into the water, with the baby still connected to her by the umbilical cord.

Aaron rowed the boat, slowly and carefully, back to the edge of the lake. He went back to the Gray house where he took Claire's left leg and masturbated so that it was covered with semen. He completed the dreadful tasks of this fateful night by placing the leg under the planks, in the floor of the old Gray house.

The next day, Aaron was found in the woods, naked, and covered in blood and semen. Where his heart had been, there was a hole. A deep, dark, black hole of nothingness.

And on the bottom of the dark lake, there's a very young boy waiting on the day he'll rise.

THE END

...?

Comments

[alphabete]

Wow, well. Wow.

I noticed a few errors, like "weren't any furnitures" should be "wasn't any furniture" and "weren't any food" should be "wasn't any food." Aside from a few other small errors in the same vein, it's well written.

This is a disturbing story, quite dark and pretty frightening. I found the ending to be a bit confusing but I love the idea of this young couple being caught in an irrevocable script. The convenience store guy trying to warn them, the policeman breaking in and disrupting the warnings, the couple's increased interest in the home. I wonder what happened to Martin but I'm guessing that he's now deceased. Great work, you do an awesome horror tale.

[WatchingPreacher]

Thank you! I'll return to the Gray-house in a while. I'm currently thinking about what story I would tell; the only thing I know is that it'll be bigger, focusing more on the house and the town. And since you wonder what happened to Martin, I'm glad to tell you that the next story will be about Martin, from birth to death. ;)

[Randompenguins]

You directed me here from Screnzy and I must say I am impressed. Very good horror, with a hint of humor there ("These small-town folks have to follow a template"). Looking forward to hearing more about Grey House.

[WatchingPreacher]

Woo! Glad you liked it. :) There will come more from the Gray House... I just don't know when. :(