Scary Stories

The Monroe House

The old house was nestled in a valley between the hills of West Virginia, in a town named Saint Albans. The group had traveled far down Coal River Road, and farther from the service required to operate a cell phone. Eric and his wife, Sharon, climbed the steep driveway with Eric's best friend, Nathan, and his wife, Charlotte. When they reached the top they stood, staring at the home. They must have been hiking for twenty minutes. The road was barricaded a decade ago. The local authorities tried their best to keep people off the property the best they could after the incident.
"I'm too out of shape for this," Charlotte said, bent over at the waist and gasping for air.
"You're not the only one, honey." Sharon placed her hands on her hips. The red streaks in her hair flashed through the blonde waves as the wind blew over her face.
"Hey, Eric," Nathan said, turning to him and pointing to the side of the house. "Check it out, man."
On the side of the house was an old stone well. Nathan jogged over to it and dropped the backpack he was carrying. A high-pitched squeal sent a shiver down his spine as he turned the crank, raising the frayed rope with each rotation.
"What you think's on the rope? It's heavy."
"A rotted bucket maybe?" Eric guessed, keeping his eyes on the crank.
Nathan twisted the metal lever with determination, the muscles in his arm twitched as he spun the crank.
"I can see it," he said.
The two of them watched as the bucket rose to the top. A faint smell of rotten flesh rose into his nose, almost causing him to throw up in the well. Flies followed the red stained bucket as it crept closer to the surface. Eric's eyes burned as he stared at the bloody heap of meat.
"What the fuck is that?" Nathan said as the bucket reached the peak of its journey.
"Dead animal."
"That's fucked up."
"What are you two doing?" Sharon asked, jogging over to them. Eric raised his hand to halt her progress but didn't succeed. "Gross."
The three of them stared at the dead animal in disgust for a few more moments before Nathan finally released the bucket back to the depths of the well. An echoed splash of liquid rose through the stone and a shudder rushed through Eric's body.
"Let's go inside," Eric suggested. "This backpack is getting heavy."
The house's exterior was lined with light-grey brick with a darker grey topping the shingles. The front door sat under a curved archway, above it raised three floors of windows ending with a triangular roof. The front door was tucked into a crevice formed by two walls on each side that raised two stories tall and ended in the same triangular roofing. On the first and second floor the sections had large bay windows. The center piece, containing the front door, had a single arched window on the second floor with a square, four-pieced window on the third. One of the strangest things about the outside of this abandoned house was that all of the glass was intact. You hardly ever found an abandoned house with glass unbroken. It was the easiest thing for vandals to target.
Eric opened the front door to find that Charlotte had already lit candles around the floor. Each room was illuminated with small flames. Shadows danced off the walls as they moved from room to room exploring. The house only had four rooms on the first level. A kitchen/dining room combo sat behind the living room. A large, open space, which they assumed may have acted as an addition family room, sat off to the left of the stairs. There was also a bathroom.
"Sit down." Charlotte motioned for everyone to join her in a circle of candles on the bed sheet she had laid down earlier.
The three of them plopped down in the center of the fiery light facing Charlotte as she asked. Her dark eyes reflected the flames from the room giving her a wicked appearance. Her skin was pale and smooth, her lips red and mischievous. She lived for haunted houses. This was her comfort zone.
"So," Charlotte began. "Do you all know the story of this house?"
"I know a family died here," Nathan said. Eric and Sharon nodded in agreement.
"The Monroe's died here a decade ago, but that isn't the whole story," Charlotte's eyes burned with excitement. "Doctor Richard Monroe, and his wife Sherrie, moved to this home eleven years ago with their two-year-old son. The Monroe's moved from Vermont and were a welcome arrival in town. Mister Monroe was an upcoming neurosurgeon, and it was believed he'd be an asset to the area's medical reputation. Sherrie stayed at home with their son while Richard worked to support their family. All was good for the first few months, but then things started getting weird."
"Awesome, about time you got to the good part," Nathan laughed.
"Shut up," Charlotte said, smacking him on the arm.
"Sorry."
"Anyway, Sherrie started telling her husband that she could feel something in the house. Something watching her, something—"
"—Stalking her?" Nathan interrupted.
Charlotte gave him a stare that would scare a dead man. "Yes, stalking her," she said. Nathan smiled with a beaming sense of achievement.
"Richard thought she was just homesick and not used to being alone in a new place. He decided to take a few weeks off and stay with his wife until she got more comfortable. At first, Sherrie thought his presence was helping. She didn't feel as worried, and the feeling of being stalked had gone away. Richard was enjoying his new role in the home as well. Everything was going great, but then it happened."
"What happened?" Nathan asked. Eric and Sharon flashed disapproving looks in his direction. "Sorry," Nathan frowned and looked to the ground.
"If I may continue," Charlotte coughed. "Richard woke up one night after hearing something moving in the attic. He noticed that his wife wasn't in bed with him and rushed upstairs to the open door. When he got inside he found his wife hanging from a rope in the center of the room, holding his child's severed head. The sight was enough to drive any man insane. He never returned to work after the incident. People started worrying about his mental health. Having your wife kill herself, and your only child, would be a lot for anybody to handle alone. After a month of not hearing from him, they sent a police cruiser to his residence. When the police arrived at the house there was no answer, and the car was parked in the driveway. They searched the bottom floor and found nothing. The second floor was also empty. They made their way to the attic and as they climbed the stairs the smell warned them of the sight to come. Just like they had only a month before, they found a body hanging from a rope. He had been dead for over a week."
"That's fucked up," Nathan said.
"Yeah, it is."
Sharon shook her head, "I wonder why she killed herself. If everything was going better, you'd think she would be fine."
"That's the thing; people think this house is haunted. They think it has the ability to influence your mind. To make you do things. Don't you think it's odd that none of the windows to this house are broken?"
"I was wondering about that actually," Eric admitted.
"They say people have visions. Some even get lost in this house."
"Lost? It's not even that big," Nathan said.
"It's like being trapped. At least that's what I hear." Charlotte's face beamed with curiosity. "No one has even messed up this place and it's been abandoned for a decade. That's not normal. People don't stay here."
"But we are," Sharon smiled.
"Damn, right we are," Charlotte nodded.
"I'm going to check out the upstairs," Nathan said, standing up.
"Don't die," Charlotte smiled, lying on her back with her eyes closed. Her dark hair spread out wildly on the wooden floor.
"I'm not gonna die."
"You never know," Sharon laughed.
The house shook from Nathan's movement upstairs as he ran around exploring the home. Creaks from the old wood were calming to his senses, even if they were in a place with such a dark history. The smell of dust and stale air filled the room. Strangely, it seemed that not even the kids came out to this place. Eric grew up hearing stories of haunted houses, but every one of them was littered with beer cans and trash. The walls were always covered in graffiti. Not this house. This house was very different, and in a very creepy way.
"Holy shit, bro. Come up here," Nathan yelled from upstairs.
"What is it?" Eric asked, not wanting to get up. His feet were still sore from the hike.
"Just get up here."
Eric sighed and walked over to the stairs. With each step he could feel the air getting cooler, which went against his logic. "Where are you?"
"Over here, hurry up."
Nathan's voice was above him. Eric turned to the last set of stairs and headed up to the attic door which was pushed open. Nathan was standing in the center of the empty attic, staring at a rope that hung from the ceiling. Beneath the rope was a small wooden chair.
"Check it out, man." Nathan jumped up on the chair and put his head through the rope. "I'm just like Monroe, man."
"Quit being—"
Before Eric could get the words out Nathan jumped from the chair. His neck snapped as his weight was halted by the rope. Eric screamed as Nathan's eyes bulged from his head. He ran over to Nathan and the door slammed behind him. Confused, he swung around to see the closed door, and when he looked back to Nathan, he was gone.
"Eric?" He heard Nathan's voice coming from downstairs. His heart was pounding in his throat. Wiping his sweaty palms on his pants he ran to the attic door and grabbed the knob. It wouldn't turn. Eric pounded on the door and could hear footsteps rushing up the stairs. Tears filled his eyes and he dropped to his knees. The door opened and pushed into him which made him jump to his feet.
"What's wrong?" Sharon asked, grabbing him. "What happened?"
Nathan reached the top of the stairs. "Was that you screaming like a little girl?" he laughed.
"You hung yourself," Eric said.
"No I didn't."
"In the attic, just now. I watched it."
"Dude, give me some of what you're on," Nathan laughed. "Calm down, man. You don't really believe in ghosts do you?"
Eric didn't believe in ghosts. He wasn't sure what he just experienced, but he was positive it was just in his head. The environment, the stories, the legend, they were all just making his over-active imagination play tricks on him. Nothing more, nothing less.
"Are you crying, bro?" Nathan asked, his eyes gleamed with excitement. "Tell me you're crying, bro."
"I'm not crying. I think it's just the dust up here."
"Sure it is, man. Sure it is," he laughed.
"What happened?" Sharon asked again.
Eric took a moment to figure out his wording and then started to explain it the best he could. "I heard Nathan call for me so I came upstairs. When I got up here—"
"—I never called for you."
"Yeah, all right, man—"
"—Seriously, I never said a word." Nathan's eyes widened slightly and he stared at Eric quizzically.
"Enough." Sharon grabbed Eric by the arm and started downstairs. "You aren't funny, Eric."
"Huh? I swear, I—"
"—Stop it! I mean it."
Eric shook his head on the walk downstairs. He didn't just imagine Nathan calling for him, did he? No way. Nathan definitely yelled for him, and now he was just trying to scare him more than he already was. Eric wasn't going to give him that satisfaction.
Before the sun went down, Charlotte lit candles in every room on the second floor. If the house hadn't been scary enough by itself, the candles were sealing the deal. Eric and Sharon sat in the room they had chosen and setup the air mattress.
"You scared?" Sharon asked.
"No," Eric lied, the memory of Nathan hanging from the rope in the attic was still fresh in his mind.
"Me neither," she smiled. Sharon walked into the bathroom that was attached to their bedroom and looked into the mirror. "It's amazing everything in this place is still so preserved."
"Yeah, that's the scariest part really, it's like people still live here." Eric shuddered at the thought.
Sharon walked back into the room and lay down next to him. She kissed him softly on the back of his neck and wrapped her arms around him. "I love you."
"I love you too." The room faded away and Eric fell asleep before he could even think about the house again.
Footsteps in the hallway woke him from his sleep. Sharon's arm was still wrapped around his waist, and he grabbed her hand in his. The candles were all out, and the room was painted in black. His ears were in tune to the outside hallway, and he followed the sound of footsteps moving from one end to other. It was like something was guarding them. He moved Sharon's arm away and sat up on the bed. The air chilled, and the footsteps stopped outside his door. His heart beat sped up as a tapping began on the door. His ears began to ring with the sound of the tapping that grew louder and louder until the door was shaking on its hinges. The candles caught flame again, lighting the room as the door swung open. He choked as a figure entered the room.
"I couldn't sleep," Sharon said, walking into the room.
Eric's mind raced, confusion suffocated him. "You... You didn't hear the banging?"
"What banging?"
"The banging on the door," his voice rose. "It was shaking the damn house for fuck sake."
"Honey, there was no banging. I was talking to Nathan and Charlotte the whole time." Her face looked concerned. "Are you sure you're all right being here? You've been acting weird since we got here."
"No, I'll be fine."
"Just calm down," she said, climbing back into bed. "I love you."
"I love you—"His voice stuck in his throat as her arm wrapped around his waist.
"If she was outside," he thought. "Who in the hell was in my bed?"
Eric leapt from the bed and rushed out the door into the hallway. The cold air from the hall made the hair on his arms rebel against his skin. Sweat tingled on his brow as he made his way to the room where Nathan and Charlotte were staying. Something in him made him turn around though, and before long he was pacing back and forth in the hallway. A heat grew in his chest that reminded him of anger, and he stomped over to Nathan's door and started knocking, slowly at first, but soon he was pounding on the door. The wall shook with each beat from his fist, but no one answered. The door to his room opened and Charlotte came walking out of it, her face blank, and her eyes unblinking.
"How did you..." Eric began, but Charlotte just kept walking.
She reached her door and swung it open. "I couldn't sleep," she said.
Eric watched as she entered the room and heard Nathan's voice. "You... You didn't hear the banging?"
Eric's chest started burning. His body tingled with anticipation, and his mouth lipped the words as they left Charlotte's mouth, "What banging?"
Charlotte shut the door behind her as she entered the bedroom and Eric laughed to himself knowing the conversation inside. He wondered if Nathan experienced an imaginary arm around him. He wondered if Nathan would come outside and pound on his door next. "Maybe he already did," he thought.
The air grew colder and Eric worried that the sweat on his face would start to freeze. The sound of a door creaking open grabbed his attention, and he peered in the direction of the unused bedroom. A faint light peaked through the crack. The sound of a crying child was coming from the room. Without thought, he began walking toward the sound. The child's cries increased in volume until his ears hurt from the noise. The voice of a woman mixed with the child's screams. "Did no one else hear this?" he thought. Her words were inaudible, but as he got closer to the room they became clearer.
"It's ok, dear." The woman patted the child on the back, holding him in her arms. She whispered in his ear, moving him to her left arm and grabbing an object off of the desk.
A night light was plugged into the wall next to a small, twin-size bed with blue blankets. A lamp next to the bed was turned off, and underneath it was an alarm clock with no time. A small rocking chair sat in the far left corner behind a wooden desk. That desk is where the woman grabbed the saw. She laid the child out on the table and kissed his forehead. The kid closed his eyes, and she raised the saw to his throat with tears in her eyes. She moved in a way that looked unnatural, like she was being forced into action. The saw blade touched the boy's neck, and Eric turned away as the boy screamed. Eric moved from the doorway and saw the figure of the mother walking up the stairs, holding a head in her right hand. Once again his body walked without his knowledge. He felt like he was floating as his body drifted up the stairs and to the attic.
The woman stood covered in blood, holding the severed head of her child. Eric knew exactly who she was and exactly what was going to happen. He was in the room, feet from the rope when she climbed onto the chair. Her eyes were as blank as Charlotte's had been moments ago. She worked her head through the opening and jumped, just like Nathan did. Eric watched her body swing from the rope holding the head of her boy. And he cried. He fell to his knees and quivered as tears fell to the floor. The door slammed shut behind him, and he rolled on to his side to face it.
A man he had never seen stared at him with frightened eyes and rushed over to him. Eric quickly noticed that he wasn't looking at Eric, but at the woman that hung above him. The man screamed in agony as he pulled the woman from the rope. He shook and cursed the skies as the boy's head dropped from her grasp.
Eric got up and ran from the room, "We're fucking leaving right now!" he screamed, running down the stairs to his room. He pushed through the door and stopped dead in his tracks.
"No!" he screamed, rushing over to the bed. The blankets on the air mattress were soaked in blood. Sharon lay sprawled out on the surface with both wrists cut and neck slit. He turned in a panic and rushed to Nathan's room, throwing open the door. He found himself standing in the attic once again looking at Nathan standing under the rope.
"Check it out, man," Nathan said.
Eric turned around and ran out of the room. He heard the cracking of Nathan's neck as he reached the stairs. His eyes burned with tears and noises echoed in his mind without a source. His vision became spotted as he ran to the front door. His hands were soaked in sweat as he grabbed the door handle and turned.
"You can't leave." He recognized the voice as Charlotte's and turned to face where her voice had come. "They won't let you."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"The Monroe's," she said calmly, "they won't let you leave."
"Just watch me," he said, and opened the front door. He stepped through the door into the blackness of the night and felt a chill on his arms. Candles lit up his vision and he saw Charlotte sitting on the floor in front of him. "How... But I—"
"—you can't leave, Eric." Charlotte stood up and walked over to him. "No one can. No one ever has."
"You're crazy! You've lost your goddamn mind, Charlotte."
"Have I, Eric? Have I really?" Her stare was like a dagger through his soul. "You've seen them. I know you have."
"Where's Nathan? Where's Sharon?" He screamed.
"You tell me," she scoffed. "I haven't left this room. You're the one who's been running around upstairs all night."
"Bullshit! I saw you leave my room," his eyes widened, thinking of Sharon's body on the bed upstairs. "You... You killed her."
"What?" Her eyes were frightened, and she backed away. "What the fuck are you talking about Eric?"
"Sharon, she's dead, and you killed her Charlotte." He was drifting again, drifting toward Charlotte, whose expression had significantly changed.
"That's bullshit, Eric. Listen to me," her voice cracked in fear. "Nobody's dead."
"I saw them, Charlotte. Nathan hung himself upstairs; Sharon's wrists and neck were slit. She's dead, Charlotte. And you fucking killed her!" He reached out to grab her and she was gone. Eric sat in the total blackness of night with the wind blowing against his face. He turned and stared at the house and could see the candle light flickering through the windows.
The pounding from his chest beat in his ears as he fell to his knees and crawled toward the car. He had to get out of there. The gravel was cold on his face as he slid himself slowly across the ground.
"Hey." The voice was Nathan's, he didn't want to look but he couldn't help it. "Dinner time," Nathan said, standing by the well. He reached his hands into the bucket and grabbed a handful of rotting meat, and then shoved it into his mouth. Blood ran from his chin, and flies circled his face as he walked to Eric.
Eric shut his eyes and screamed, "No!"
"Come on man, it's pretty good," Nathan laughed.
"No!"
"Don't be such a pussy, Eric." The voice wasn't Nathan's. Eric wasn't even sure it was human.
"No!" Eric screamed, shutting his eyes even tighter and covering them with his hands. His body curled in the fetal position.
"Honey, what's wrong?" Her voice was worried. "Wake up."
"Huh?" Eric opened his eyes and shielded them from the sunlight coming through the window.
"You were having a bad dream," she said.
Eric sighed, still shaking from the apparent dream. "It was awful," he said, taking a deep breath. "Everyone was dead... this house... it was evil. I can't explain it. It was just—"
"—I know," the voice was different, but he wasn't sure what it was exactly. Her arm wrapped around his waist and squeezed him. "I love you."
Eric shivered remembering his dream. His heart rose to his throat as he rolled over, "I love—"
But he was alone.

A/N: Haiiiii guyssss!!!! 😝 Long time now see ay? Anyways this is from Reddit.com it didn't say who it's by soooo yeahhhh.. WAIT HOLD UP!!! Guys!! This is an ACTUAL PLACE!!! I watched the fourman brother on the YouTubez go in the house and everything and I thought I was gonna die. Like I wasn't even there and I WAS SCARED!!! You guys should watch it. But yeah hope you like/love it. I thought it was cool. This isn't the actual story. There was a mother who killed her baby and hung herself and then the father shot himself in the chair. But you should watch the YouTube video cause it's amazing! Just look it up YouTube.com -- fourman04 or fourman brothers -- Monroe house -- click play then BOOM YOURE DONE! Ok baiiii 😜