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A Ghost Story, Erotic Dreams in the Haunted House
Lilly stepped cautiously over each loose and warped floorboard. As she walked over the threshold familiar pangs of uneasiness and trepidation gnawed at her. Crumbling horsehair plaster lay in dusty piles all throughout the enormous house. Wood lathe was indiscriminately ripped off the walls, leaving gaping holes infested with rodents, bugs and spiders. The place reeked of mildew and moldy wood. Thick layers of dust covered every flat surface. Outdated, hideous wallpaper was torn from the walls and bits and pieces of the crumbling paper were strewn over the worn and dank floorboards. Broken pieces of decrepit furniture were scattered haphazardly throughout various rooms in the abandoned home.
The one hundred and twenty year old mansion was abandoned in 1975. Over the decades vandals ransacked the place contributing to the structures demise. Outside the one time grandeur façade was tormented and beat up by the elements with a ruthless fury. The wood siding made from enormous oak planks was cupped, bowed and rotting. Nearly all the yellow paint weathered and flaked off long ago.
This visit was especially bittersweet for Lilly because it would be her last. Next month the town was going to demolish the place. The once grand estate was too far-gone for rehabilitation so the sad, tormented house would be put out of her misery. Lilly wanted to cry for the loss of such a grand lady.
Most residents in the small seaside town pushed vehemently for the destruction of the home. The creepy mansion was not just an eyesore but was haunted. Everyone knew this as fact but no one talked about it. People avoided the place and claimed a pervasive chill hung over the property. As if the winds whipped up suddenly from the Atlantic Ocean during a bitterly cold Nor'easter.
The estate was built on the edge of town, in a remote, desolate area. A low-lying fog always shrouded the property. Massive and monstrous oak trees cloaked the house in a sinister veil of giant spiky leaves. Gnarled, grasping limbs and branches were poised overhead ready to drag an unsuspecting victim into the dank earth and bury the body deep within the vast root system.
People swore they heard loud moans, shrieks and hair-raising screams manifesting from within the crumbling structure. Gray wispy figures rose out of the chilling mist and encircled the house. Those brave enough to walk up to the cobblestone pathway swore the mansion was alive. The earth beneath their feet seemed to heave while they trod over the overgrown, weed infested cracked walkway. Doors and windows would slam shut when the air was dead still. Decayed chunks of wood flew off the house and smashed to the ground, splintering and raining sharp rusting nails. Most prowlers were terrified and never returned.
The house gained her nefarious reputation in 1893 when the wealthy owner, Edward A. Kahn hung himself in the foyer over the grand staircase. He was the son of an affluent Persian father and English mother with aristocratic lineage. Kahn allegedly was a handsome and extremely charming womanizer. He became obsessed with the beautiful young daughter of a local well to do family. Her attitude toward him was indifferent and cool however. This ate away at his self-serving ego until he became fanatical in his efforts to possess her.
Her family, alarmed by his notorious reputation, attempted to discourage the union. Kahn worked his persuasive and debonair charisma though and wore her and her family down until they reluctantly agreed to the match. Once she was in his clutches he became a terrifying nightmare. Or so the gossip mongers in her tight knit and nosey town, claimed.
Behind his charming easygoing façade was a brooding, dark and controlling man, they said. Kahn became so domineering the woman eventually fled for her life. Some believe she died under mysterious circumstances. Townspeople claimed Kahn locked her away in the attic. Others still are sure he slit her throat with an Arabic jambya knife and buried her under one of the many oak trees newly planted on the property. She and Kahn, it was rumored, were the source for the supernatural and freighting wails and shrieks. Their tortured restless spirits haunted the property.
As a child, Lilly would listen intently to the many stories and rumors about the great house and its original owners. Unlike everyone else though she wasn't afraid of the Kahn estate. Lilly was transfixed and spell bound by the houses history and was enraptured by the gloomy and disturbing tales surrounding her illustrious past.
Something felt so familiar about Edward, as if she knew him. Even though he died so long ago Lilly knew they shared a deep connection. She thought the malicious rumors were meant to slander Mr. Kahn. Lilly was sure people were misinformed and got the story wrong. Pieces of the puzzle seemed to be missing.
Lilly was a quite and mostly solitary child. The estate was a respite of sorts for her curious and overactive imagination. She would ride her bike to the house nearly every day when she was younger. Lilly would stop and drop her bike in the overgrown weedy lawn before entering through the rusty and rotted iron gate. She never heard any scary noises or saw the eerie, murky fog. The house wasn't torn asunder before her eyes but reminded intact during her visits. Its degeneration was caused by decades of neglect not because of any powerful vengeful spirits.
She was sure of one very definite and scary fact. Mr. Kahn's ghost appeared to her many times. When he first manifested in the hazy window she was sure she was seeing things. His mouth moved in earnest as if he desperately needed to tell her something but no words came out. When the girl realized she was seeing an actual ghost Lilly was so terrified she couldn't scream or move. His dead filmy eyes bore into her with such deep intensity. She wanted to scream to relieve the overwhelming panic bubbling over in her but couldn't.
After a few encounters with him Lilly's fear was replaced with a deep abiding sympathy. Sadness was so deeply etched on his diaphanous face the emotion was palpable. His enormous dark eyes seemed to plead with her. He never approached her though and made sure to keep far away, as if he didn't want to scare her with his freighting appearance.
If he appeared when she was inside the house the room would turn icy cold. Her breath became vaporous even on hot and humid summer days. Again, tears flowed from his black hollow sockets. He tried to utter words but his lifeless mouth was silent. The gesture was creepy and unnerving. Kahn's eyes communicated great despair but the meaning was unclear. Edward would vanish after a few moments and Lilly was more frustrated with each encounter.
Sometimes Lilly would wait outside the house just sitting on her bike. Her long legs firmly planted into the ground. She strained to peer into the gloomy, broken windows to see if his filmy figure would appear. She would wait sometimes hours and just as she was about to leave inevitably she'd turn her head and peek over her shoulder and he would manifest. First as a wispy swirl then his entire body materialized into a transparent masculine figure. Lilly would smile sweetly and wave.
Lilly hoped her visits provided some sort of comfort to the lost, lonely spirit. The young girl wanted to desperately believe that the rumors were untrue. Edward Kahn loved that woman and wasn't the cruel man everyone said he was.
After Edward Khan died a young female cousin from England moved into the house. The homes tragic past made everyone leery and she was the only family member who wanted the place. She was bright, progressive and an ardent supporter of the Suffragette movement. She didn't believe in the any of the supernatural nonsense. The cousin was engaged to a lawyer from Boston. After they were married they moved into the estate and e started a law practice in town.
