Room to Let (standard:horror, 2040 words)
Author: Michael Lance Kersting	Added: Feb 27 2012	Views/Reads: 2935/2088	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Mac Gregor,horror story writer,was in for a chilling surprise at the guest house.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

would you please follow me." 

He took up his luggage and followed her up a short, creaky stairway, and
down a long narrow corridor, to a room marked 6 on its door. She 
unlocked the door and switched on the lights. She then handed him a 
key, smiled, and said, "Tea will be served at four o'clock” Mac Gregor 
thanked her and went into the room, which was a big chamber with a 
bathroom off to the side. The bed, centered in the room, was enormous 
with a tall gilded headboard decorated with a pair of angels facing 
each other. The gold paint had dimmed, and the angels had cracked 
wings. There was also a huge dresser with a huge mirror with decorative 
moulding and decorated porcelain and basin "A bit old fashioned, but 
impressive." he thought impressed. He always had a yen for Victorian 
stuff. 

After a cold shower and a change of clothing, he decided to take a napin
the soft four post bed. 

Later, at tea, and sitting across from the landlady, he said" I can't
help noticing all the stuffed animals around, ma'am. Are you a 
collector?" 

"No, Mr MacGregor, I was a taxidermist before I retired." She sighed. 

"And what do you do, may I ask ?" she inquired. 

"I am a writer." he replied proudly. 

"Oh, really?" She said looking impressed. "What kind of writing do you
do?" 

"Mostly fiction," He replied quietly," " Horror and Science fiction" 

"Oh, that must be fascinating, creating all those scary situations?" 

"Well, it does have its bright spots, but it's truly a lot of hard
work." 

"Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy. "she said looking steadily at him.
It must have been a hallucination but he thought he saw her eyes 
changed colour from blue to green. It must be the lights he concluded 
"I was just wondering, Mrs.Robinson, I noticed that there were two 
other tenants , a Frank Owens, the name sounds familiar, wasn't he the 
famous Archaeologist who disappeared a few years ago?” Her face clouded 
a bit. 

"Yes, actually, Mr. Owens is a tenant of mine, he is still with us." 

"Really ?"replied McGregor a bit of excitement building up in him 

"Yes, but he's a very private person and he doesn't like to be
disturbed, He likes to keep to himself with his artefacts he dug up and 
I must say there are quite a few and I respect my tenants wishes'. 

"I see, Just curious. I certainly would like to meet him, " 

"Perhaps, I can arrange that for you, Mr. MacGregor." she said with a
slight smile."Would you like some more tea?" ‘That would be fine, thank 
you." He replied, 

As she poured the tea into his cup, she looked at him steadily.  It was
if she was looking into his soul.  MacGregor felt slightly uneasy by 
the stare .but said nothing. 

"I read some of his works on Ancient Egypt. Quite fascinating stuff,
actually." 

"What about the other person, Mr. Donaldson, who is he?" 

"Oh, Mr. Donaldson," she looked at him then laughed "He was an Artist
and quite a character I must say, He came out here to do some rural 
landscape painting . He was a very nice man, a bit eccentric, wearing 
odd coloured socks and rather bright clothing but, all in all, he was a 
pleasant man." 

"Was?" 

"Yes," she said a sad expression crossing her pinched face." He left
here one day and just never returned. After a couple of days, I 
notified the authorities, a search was made for him, but they never 
found him. He just up and left. A very mysterious case that one." 

After sipping the tea, MacGregor said "I guess it takes all types to
make the world." 

He got up and said "Well, Ma'am, It certainly was interesting talking to
you .I think I will go for a walk" 

"My pleasure, Mr MacGregor," She replied evenly, 

On his walk, he passed some old Victorian houses in dire need of repair,
their garbled bay windows were cracked and shadowed., Porches sagged, 
As he looked around, he felt a bit sad but he view the architecture 
with pleasure .Architecture, both ancient and modern, especially 
English Victorian  interested him. 

"A great town gone to seed," he thought, "and almost deserted." 

He stood looking at an old church, admiring the Gothic Architecture, the
stained glass coloured windows, the buttresses, the little rose window 
above the entrance. "Those old architects sure had a lot of 
imagination" ,he thought. 

"New in town are you?"said a raspy voice from behind him, which startled
him. He hadn't heard the person approached. He was a tall, gaunt man 
with a bald head with long flowing grey hair beneath a black wide 
brimmed hat and was dressed in a faded black suit. 

"Yes" replied MacGregor. 

"Where you staying at, young fella?" 

"At the 'Knife and Fork,' and who are you, may I ask ?" 

"Oh, forgive my bad manners, I am Hudson, the town's undertaker" he
stretched out a hand. 

MacGregor reluctantly shook it. It was ice cold. 

The man's beady black eyes searched him and seem to burn through him. 

Mac Gregor felt a bit uneasy. 

‘And what brought to our little town ,Mr .....?" 

"MacGregor. I am a writer." 

"Yeah? Now ain't that somethin', we had a writer fella here once, name
of O'Brien, he spent a couple of days then took off on the next bus 
like a bat tryin' to bust outta Hell, outta here, he was." 

"Really ?" Replied MacGregor, intrigued." and why was that, do you
know?' 

"He claimed that the town was too spooky for him.". 

"Can't blame him" thought MacGregor. 

"Well, I gotta go", Hudson said abruptly," Nice meeting you, Mr.
MacGregor, have a good stay" 

They shook hands and the man turned and left as quietly as he came. 

Later at dinner, the landlady asked."How was your tour of the town, Mr.
MacGregor, found anything interesting?" 

"Fine.' MacGregor replied" just fine. It's quite a quaint town you have
here, I met Mr. Hudson, the town's undertaker" 

Mrs.Robinson's face suddenly turned as white as a sheet . 

"Oh really, but that can't possibly be." 

"Why not?" 

"Well, Mr. Hudson died three years ago!" 

MacGregor felt a chill ran through him. 

"Really?" 

"Yes, he died shortly after his wife's death, poor man, he couldn't
stand the loss. He grieved to death ." 

"You are pulling my legs, aren't you?" 

"No."She replied, " ah, but we live in a mysterious world, aren't we? 

A chill ran down his spine and he felt goose bumps all over. 

*** 

That night in his room, Mac Gregor heard strange sounds and felt as if
he was being watched. He got up and switched on the lights and left it 
on as he returned to the bed. He had to admit to himself the place gave 
him creeps One day ran into another, and still no Mr. Owens, and 
MacGregor began to think that maybe Mrs.Robinson was a bit dotty and 
only imagined that Mr.Owens was still there at the boarding house. 

"What about Mr Owens?" he blurted one night over dinner. 

"Oh Yes, Mr. Owens, I will take you up to meet him as I promised."She
paused, "Are you still sure you want to meet him, Mr. MacGregor?" 

"Certainly ,That would be a great honour." “ Okay then I will take you
to see him.” They got up and he followed her up the stairs to a door 
marked 4, with a sign hanging on the door knob saying in bold letters: 
"DO NOT DISTURB." “Mr. Owens, I have a visitor that wishes to see you.” 
No Answer. 

“Oh well, he must be sleeping “she said. She keyed the door open and
keyed open the door. An overpowering, nauseating smell assailed Mac 
Gregor's nostrils as she opened the door. A smell of leather and 
disinfectant and death pervaded the room. MacGregor looked, and 
recoiled in shock and terror. He couldn't believe his eyes. His body 
turned cold as ice at the sight that greeted him. 

For there on the wall opposite him, were five human heads mounted on
highly polished plaques, their faces a blotchy white and their 
sightless eyes staring mockingly down at him! 

‘Mr. Owens is in the middle." cooed Mrs Robinson, and gave a mad
cackling laugh. End 


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