Week 10 Story: The Alaskan House (It Doesn't Belong to People...)

The Alaskan House (It Doesn't Belong to People...)

Abandoned House

     Suzie's parents were going out for another hunting trip. It was winter in Central Alaska and food was scarce. In fact, the family of three got so low on their stock of food that both Suzie's mom and dad started going out hunting at night in the hopes that less animals would spot them and run away. 

     This terrified 9 year-old Suzie. The family had only lived in the ancient, creaky house for a few months and Suzie wasn't fully acclimated to the moans in the walls, the groans from the ceiling and what sounded like footsteps bending the wooden floor-boards every night. 

     Suzie never wanted her parents to leave her in the house during the day, especially not at night. "We'll try and be back in a couple hours, Suzie!" exclaimed her Dad as he opened the door and unleashed a snow-white flurry into the coatroom. Suzie's mom blew her a kiss. "Be good sweetie! Soup's on the stove and I already got a couple bowls out. Help yourself and take care of the house until we get back!" With that, her parents closed the squeaking wooden door behind themselves and 

left Suzie trapped in her prison for the night. 

     The house was unbearably cold in the winter. Suzie huddled herself up in her little wool coat and shuffled to the kitchen in her gray slippers. She stood on her tip-toes as she scooped soup out of the steaming metal pot on the stove and into her bowl. She gently shuffled to the kitchen table while holding the nearly topped-off bowl of soup. 

     She sat down facing the long-end of the table opposite the head chair. Behind that chair was a little window. Suzie lifted the first piping hot spoonful of soup to her mouth as she glared out through that little window at the soft, quiet blizzard outside. 

     She was interrupted by a knock in the living room behind her. She turned around to find a chair leaning against the fireplace. She slowly got up and waddled into the living room to put the chair back by the wall. She only made it five little steps before she heard the upstairs floor-boards bend and squeak under the weight of some ominous force. 

     Suzie had had enough of this. She was tired of feeling scared and this anger was met with a wash of bravery tonight. She swiftly decided to go upstairs and investigate. Suzie ran to the flight of stairs down the hall and ignored the moaning walls, groaning ceiling, and squeaky staircase as she powerfully climbed it. 

     She heard the creaking coming from her own bedroom. Now the back-chilling fear returned. Something was luring her there on purpose. It knew exactly whose room it was in...

      A second-wave of bravery washed over Suzie as she ignored her paranoia. She rushed to reach the doorknob and swung her door open. She was met with a wash of ice-cold air coming in through her bedroom window. 

     She walked across her room to turn on the furnace in the corner. Her waltz was broken by the exact same creak she had heard every night, for the past few months. Except this time, Suzie wasn't safely downstairs or tucked away under her blankets. No, she was in the same room as and exposed to whatever it was that struck nightmarish images into her fragile mind. 

     Suzie slowly turned her trembling body around to see who - or what - was there. As soon as the corner of her right eye caught a glimpse of a twisted shadow, it shot under her bed. "Who are you? Why are you here?!" cried Suzie. All she heard was labored breathing and then the most cackley voice she had ever heard. "Don't ask me why I'm here," answered an old woman from under the bed. Her voice was like the sound of nails scratching a chalkboard and even more coarse. 

     "Ask my captors. They won't let me leave. I want you to leave before they know you're here." Suzie was terrified just to be in the same room as this woman, let alone listen to her voice paint pictures of foreboding. "But I can't just leave," exclaimed Suzie. "My parents are out hunting... and it's winter... a-and I have nowhere else to go!" 

     Suzie's rebuttal was met by a silent pause. "Well then," answered the old hag from under the bed, "allow me to make this all the more clear to you, my dear." Suzie heard movement out from under the bed and then... silence. Nothing but the muffled howl of the wind outside her window. A few seconds later, the floor-boards behind Suzie creaked with the all too familiar sound. 

     "You must leave, my child," whispered the old hag over Suzie's left shoulder. She felt old, gray hair, thick and dry as wool scratch her neck. "W-Why?" asked Suzie as she began to cry. "Because," explained the stinking old creature, "this place was never supposed to be a home for people. It was never meant for... humans." 

     "B-But... aren't you human?" asked Suzie. Her voice was getting shakier and harder to control by the moment. "How can you be so sure?" responded the hag with a cold breath down Suzie's neck. 

       The final wave of bravery hit Suzie. "If you're n-not human, g-g-give me a sign. Touch the back of my neck." There was a pause, the wind howled outside, and the suspense of the next few moments felt eternal. Then, a finger touched Suzie on the back of her neck. It didn't feel like it belonged to a human hand. More like... a claw. The long dry fingernail scratched Suzie down her neck as an old cackle screamed into Suzie's ears. She ran. 

     Suzie lunged out of her bedroom without daring to steal a glimpse of that old hag. She hustled downstairs through the hallway and bolted out the front door. Suzie saw the footprints of her parents still marked in the snow and followed them out into the cold twi-lit wilderness. 

     Bibliography. Eskimo Folk-Tales by Knud Rasmussen. Web Source

     *Author's Note: I loosely got this story idea from Qalaganguase, Who Passed to the Land of 

Ghosts in the Eskimo Folk-Tales unit. The story features a daughter who is left alone in her family's hut at night while everybody else goes out hunting. The daughter watches ghosts come and go in and out of the hut each night. The ghosts aren't anything scary but I decided to make a scary story about a daughter left behind in an old house at night by her parents who must go out hunting. I figured it was perfect timing for Halloween. I also adapted this story from a nightmare I had as a very young kid. My Dad came home from work. I didn't see him as I was lying down on the floor of my bedroom, drawing, with my back turned to him. He eerily said, "Ethan. I'm a ghost!" I said, "if you're a ghost, then touch my back." I felt a cold-hand gently touch my spine and then I woke up.