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Home›Fiction›Mr. Keith’s House – Part IV

Mr. Keith’s House – Part IV

By VL Jones
January 30, 2023
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This entry is part 4 of 5 in the series Mr. Keith's House

Mr. Keith's House
  • Mr. Keith’s House
  • Mr. Keith’s House – Part II
  • Mr. Keith’s House – Part III
  • Mr. Keith’s House – Part IV
  • Mr. Keith’s House – Part V

The knocking at the front door cut my amusement short, and I’m a little apprehensive. My guard is up as I think of how the house can get its revenge for my taunt. 

It surprised me when I opened the door and saw it was my mother. Thoughts swirl through my mind, but the main one is why she was here. We had talked little since Kyle’s disappearance because she made it clear it was my fault he was gone. 

I should have known not to take him inside the house, even though she doesn’t believe in ghosts. She also didn’t think the house ate my brother, but she was hurting and struck out at me because Kyle was in my care.

She had to have someone to blame, while my dad sought solace in Crown Royal. Mom stood on the front porch expecting me to let her in, but I didn’t think that was a good idea. Her accusations still hurt me, even though I also blame myself.

Mom had a tremulous smile. “So the rumors are true; you live in the house you claim took your brother.”

I tense immediately; she wasn’t here to talk but to start a battle with the first volley of hurtful words. Remembering the entity upstairs, I temper my words. “Nice to see you too, Mom. What can I do for you?”

Confusion swept through her red-rimmed blue eyes, and her gaze dropped to her feet. Patiently I wait to see what her following words will be, whether attack or neutral. I’ve given up expecting warmth or love from this woman. 

The only ending I can see from this exchange is for her to leave and never return. So, she caught me off-guard again when she asked, “Can I come in?”

Maybe I was still hurting from the attack earlier by the house and mom’s because my response was frigid. “Why? You made your point that it’s my fault Kyle is gone. What could you possibly want to say to me now?”

She flinches as if I had struck her, and I feel ashamed that she has reduced me to her level. But it exhausts me carrying this burden alone. I loved Kyle; yes, I thought of him as a pain once in a while, but what teen didn’t of their little brother?

That didn’t mean I ever wanted harm to come to him, so for my mother to treat me like a criminal was painful. Shocked, I heard her say, “I might have deserved that.”

Okay, what happened to my mother, and who is this person who looks like her? 

Hesitantly, “I’m sorry I was a little rude to you too,” I said, offering her a truce, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to make peace with her. Yet, here I was, giving her a chance to accept my peace offering. 

Whatever the reason, she accepts it. “I’m sorry, Ramon, I miss your brother, and this, not knowing what happened, is killing me. Then, I heard you live where you said your brother disappeared – you admit it’s a little confusing.”

“Not when I’ve told you for years that this place is responsible for Kyle missing. But you didn’t believe me, and for your information, I bought this place to find out what happened to my brother, whether or not you believe me.”

“You seriously believe that your new home kidnapped Kyle?”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for the last thirteen years, but nobody is listening to me.”

“Because it’s ridiculous, Ramon. An inanimate object does not come alive and harms people. It simply doesn’t happen.”

“This one did! So, if you will leave, I can get back to my investigation.”

Mommy, is that you? Mommy, please, I am so cold and want to come home.

My mom’s face drains of all color, leaving it looking like parchment paper. Her eyes were dark holes sunk in the sockets as she looked at where the voice came from and then looked back at me. 

“It’s not Kyle, mom. Think about it – he would be twenty-three today, not a child.”

Her lips were trembling. “Then who was that? Because it sounded like Kyle.”

“Yeah, mom, but Kyle was ten when he disappeared. He wouldn’t be ten now if that were him, now would he?”

“Then what was that?” Her voice rose to a near shriek.

“I’ve tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

Mommy, don’t listen to him. He’s trying to kill me; please take me home.

Mom screamed, “Kyle,” and lunged for the stairs.

“Mom, no.” as I tried to stop her.

Then the door slammed shut, and I heard the locking mechanism turn before the sinister laughing started.

In a deep, guttural voice that wasn’t Kyle’s, You are mine now.

Well, hell.

Series Navigation<< Mr. Keith’s House – Part IIIMr. Keith’s House – Part V >>
Tagsshort storycreativityhaunted housefictionhorrormystery
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VL Jones

V. L. Jones is a paranormal enthusiast and a horror writer. When she isn't writing stories to scare you under the covers? She is planning her next ghostly trip. V.L. Jones has a short story, Devil's Highway, published in Elements of Horror: Fire by Red Cape Publishing. She blends the horror genre with elements of urban legends and cryptids. She is also a proud member of the Horror Writer's Association (HWA) and the Horror Authors Guild (HAG).

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