Winter Visitor
John Gaffield
WINTER VISITOR
John T. Gaffield
Copyright 2011 John T. Gaffield
Second Edition – April 2011
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With the winter wind rattling the window near his bed, Darren was roused from a deep sleep. He took a deep breath for a moment before opening his eyes. With his eyes still blurry, he rolled to his left and gazed out the window. Outside, it was still night. The snow reflected what little ambient light was available allowing him to only make out silhouettes of the barren trees, and the streaks of the plentiful snowflakes as they were blown rapidly by the window.
Since it was not morning yet, he was puzzled as to what woke him from his sleep. A creaking sound from a floorboard inside the bedroom was heard. Startled, Darren slowly sat up in bed, and rotated his head toward the sound. There was no visible movement in the room that he could see, but it was quite dark. As he continued to stare at this spot, he noticed a slight shift of a shadow near a wooden chair about six feet from the end of his bed.
He looked back toward the window, since it was the only source of light in the room. The shear curtains pulled to the sides of the window did not appear to be moving from any window draft. The swaying trees did not appear to affect any shadows in the room either. Since he was still puzzled, he looked back to the spot where he had seen the moving shadow. It was no longer there at all. At that point, his heart was beginning to race a bit and his breathing rate increased. Had something been in his room or was there something still with him?
Darren continued to examine the room carefully. As he stared straight ahead toward the end of his bed he could see a shadow, about the size and shape of a man, slowly coming closer to the bed. The floor creaked as the dark form came closer to the end of the bed. He froze. He was able to recover enough to ask "who's there?" There was no reply, other than next floorboard creak.
Though he was panicking, he was able to use his left hand to move the covers off his body. While he remained focused on the shadow, he slid his legs off the side of the bed and onto the floor. Wanting to make a quick escape, he glanced toward the bedroom door to his right, and then back toward the shadow, which was just at the end of his bed. In one motion, he used his arms to help push up off of the bed in the direction of the door.
Heading toward the door, he looked back at the shadow for a moment. His right foot caught an edge of a chair leg near the door. The sharp pain in his big toe hit caused him to stop, and he bent over slightly to grab his right calf. Undeterred, he let go of his leg, and reached for the bedroom door knob. After twisting the knob, he pulled it the door inward quickly, and began hurrying through the doorway into the dark hallway.
Unlike the bedroom, the hallway was completely dark. This caused him to slow his pace. In the background, he could still hear the sound of the creaking floorboards coming from his bedroom. He used his hands stretched out before him to help guide his way through the darkness. Since he had been in the house for twelve years, he at least knew where he needed to go. The light switch at the top of the stairs was to be his first goal.
After shuffling and feeling his way through the darkness, he made his way to about where he thought he could find the light switch. He could feel various features on the wall with his hands, but not the light switch. The creaking floorboard sound was getting closer to the hallway. Finally his left hand ran across the light switch, and he hastily moved it up. The yellow cast of the incandescent bulbs at the top of the stairway, and behind him in the hallway allowed him to see what was around him.
Before continuing to flee, he gazed behind him toward his bedroom doorway. He thought maybe he should have closed the door, but then realized that likely would not stop whatever was following him. He could see a dark shadow starting to pass through the bedroom doorway. After quickly turning around toward the stairway, Darren reached for the railing to help control his planned quick descent of the stairs. He was more alert, and able to keep moving despite the pain that was still in his right big toe. Each step with his right foot hurt. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he rotated his head upward to look at the top of the stairs. Sure enough, the shadowy form was centered at the top of the stairs.
With the front door behind him, he spun around, and stepped toward the door. He grabbed the knob with his right hand and reached for the deadbolt dial with his left hand. Once done fumbling with the dial for a few seconds, he managed to unlock the front door. After pulling the door open, he first looked out the door, and then toward the stairs. The shadow was about halfway down the stairs and still moving. He turned back around, and proceeded to hurry through the front door and onto the porch.
As he closed the front door behind him, the bitterly cold air hit all exposed skin, including his face, hands and bare feet. Darren turned toward the closed front door and started backing away toward the front steps. The shock of the freezing wind was causing his body to react. He continued facing the front door as he slowly started down the front steps. Once he reached the second step, he stopped and carefully watched the front door for any sign of the shadowy figure. He clutched his hands together, since the harsh chill was already affecting them. He also had to keep shifting his weight on his feet, since they quickly began to hurt while standing in the fresh three inch deep new snow.
His breath was vaporizing when he exhaled, and the wind quickly swept it away to his left. Through the oval window in the front door, he could see a mysterious shape approaching. It got closer to the door, but he could not make out any facial features that would identify who or what was behind the door. A dull scraping sound emanated from the door, though the knob did not move. He then realized it sounded like the deadbolt being latched. The form stood motionless in front of the oval window in the door. As he continued to shiver, it dawned on him that he was now locked out of his house.
Who or what was this specter standing behind the oval window? As he stood there, breathing into his shaking hands, his mind raced with confused thoughts. He was shivering due to the deep cold, and from the fear.
With the sub zero wind chill outside, he needed to be sure that the door was indeed locked. Moving his right foot first, he stepped up to the front porch again, and slowly continued walking toward the door. The fear of the dark figure still behind the oval window did cause him to approach cautiously, but he did not stop making his way to the door. He reached for the knob with his right hand while still looking directly at the looming figure behind the door. Quickly rotating his hand on the door knob and pushing inward, he realized that the door had the deadbolt latched.
With some panic setting in, he retreated away from the door, and turned toward the porch steps. His feet were numb and heavy as he made his way down the steps. Rotating to his left, he made his way through the snow around the front of the house. He then rounded the corner to the side of the house. As the wind easily passed through his thin pants, his left foot struck something under the snow. Unable to keep his balance, he fell forward into the snow. He was able to partially dampen the fall with his hands, due to his arms having been folded near his chest to keep warm.
Pausing for a moment as he lay face down in the snow, he took an elongated breath. He then pushed his hands against the ground to lift his upper body above the snow. With his knees bent, he pushed off the ground again to stand up. Unable to feel anything in either of his feet or his fingers, he again started walking toward the back of the house. As he reached the back corner of the side of the house, he turned to his left, and headed toward the back door, which was on the far end of the back of the house.
Each new step was aching more than the previous one as he slowly approached the darkened back door. Only the light reflecting off the snow helped him see what was ahead. He looked into the rectangular window on the back door through
the vapors from his heavy breathing. Though not well defined, he could see the faint outline of a dark figure standing just inside of the door though the rectangular window. Knowing that this door would be locked, he stopped, and lowered his hands to his knees.
“Who are you?” he managed to ask in a soft quaking voice as he continued to stare at the form at the rear door.
Darren tried to think of what to do next as he stood there about six feet away from the locked back door. His car was locked, as well as the detached garage. Maybe he would be able to get into the garage somehow though, he thought to himself. He needed to get warm quickly.
He slowly twisted to his right, and began slowly walking toward the garage about thirty feet away. Both of his legs were very cold and partially numb now causing him to walk only in very short steps. After he had taken about five steps, he heard the crunching sound of footsteps in the snow behind him. Unable to react quickly, his heart began racing in anticipation of what was behind him. A blunt object that felt like someone's arm struck him the middle of his back. He fell forward again, but this time, he was unable to soften the landing with his arms. His body was too cold and ached. All he could do was lie on his side in the snow.
“Why is this happening to me?” he mumbled slowly to himself.
The crunching sound of the footsteps in the snow slowly approached him. Through the blowing snow, the dark figure came into view. With ice beginning to form on his eyelashes, he gazed toward the form. As his vision started to become blurry, he noticed something familiar about the ghost standing before him. He could only remember seeing that type of hat on a person once. It was a similar bitterly cold night several years ago.
He had been awakened late at night to the sound of someone pounding on his front door. After getting out of bed, and putting on some clothes, he went to the door. Through the oval window, he saw this man standing on his porch, with the same type of hat, shivering. He obviously wanted to come into the house to warm up. He was quite disheveled and wearing only light tattered clothes. Darren was alone, and he feared that this person would rob him or worse. Though he did feel a bit of sympathy for the person, he turned off the porch light and went back to bed. There were a few more knocks on the door, but Darren did not respond to them.
As he stared through his blurry eyes at the dark figure, Darren knew he should have let the stranger in.
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About the Author:
John’s third full length horror novel, “Alone Again,” should be released later in 2011.
John uses his past memories and his local knowledge combined with his engineering sense of detail to create realistic ghost stories. He has an interest in ghost stories and creepy old haunted houses.
NOVELS
Heir to Winston Manor
The Wahl House Curse
Peter Corbin was in need of a change with his job as a realtor in a busy Michigan suburb. A chance to transfer to a small town in mid-Michigan seemed to be what he and his wife Sarah needed. They purchased an old house for a bargain price without much regard for the troubled past. This proved to be something he would soon regret. The restless ghosts quickly made their presence known. (about 59,000 words).
Alone Again
Emily Sutton had been an outgoing happy person when they had married. Her husband, David struggled to understand what changed once they moved into the old suburban house that a builder had fixed up after it had stood abandoned for a few years. Emily was only a shadow of her former self. She had become withdrawn and thought something in the house was trying to harm her. With her health suffering and delusions increasing, tragedy was inevitable. A coworker of David's befriended him to help him cope. Increasing strange occurrences in the house caused him to question whether the cause of Emily's death was as obvious as he thought.
Alone Again is about 43,000 words and contains some mature content.
FREE SHORT STORIES
Slow Down (a free short story)
The Ghost of Birch River Cabin (a free short story)
Connect with me online:
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/JohnTGaffield
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4548666.John_Gaffield
