It’s the first time I’m sharing this story. Some nights I can hear it in my head and I feel like it’s time I told someone about it hoping that some demons will leave me alone.
Everything started with a challenge. It started when Mary and I decided to stay in the old abandoned house by the corner for a night. We had heard all the stories about the butcher but we weren’t worried at all. After all they’re just stories. Still that doesn’t mean that the old house wasn’t frightening. It was abandoned for many years now but it didn’t seem threatening.
We were all university friends just talking about stuff one night when the conversation went off to all the ghosts, demons and other paranormal stuff. It was Tony who started it. Not like it was the first time. Whenever we were together he always talked about the house and the butcher mainly because we lived almost opposite of the old house. So the old house was out topic once again.
-So the old house…, said Tony.
-Not again, said Mary.
-Why? It’s such a bizarre story it could be true.
-Yes it could. That’s why it’s called a story. That’s the beauty of urban legends, I said.
-I agree, said Sofia.
-Yeah whatever. But I want let y’all slide this time, said Tony.
-Why not? It’s not like I have a problem with the house or that I have to visit it. It’s doesn’t affect me at all, said Mary.
-Yeah sure. I bet you couldn’t stay a whole night in there, Tony said.
Mary lit a cigarette, inhaled, and then told Tony that she would do it but he would never ever again talk about all that paranormal stuff. The challenge was up. I felt like it was unfair if Mary went alone so I went with her. We then got up and got ready to spend a night at the old house.
Now it’s time to tell you the butcher’s story. It is said that the house was owned by a family of four in the beginning of the 90s. Both kids were boys. Their lives were perfect. Everything was amazing for the family. Until one morning in the summer of 2000. It was then when 9 year old John was playing in the road outside the house. He was so happy that he wasn’t fast enough to avoid the car running over and crushing both of his legs. The mother heard the screaming and got out of the house to see her son being ran over by the car. Their car. And the driver? Her other son, 8 year old Theo. His hands were still on the steering wheel. Then their life went downhill. John had 2 amputated legs. He refuse to learn how to walk with mechanical ones. He spent the rest of his childhood bullying his brother. Late at night he would crawl downstairs to his brother’s room to show him his legs, or what was left of them. Young Theo was scared to got to his parents. That was his last mistake. One night, 18 months after the incident, he heard his brother crawling to his room again. This time he was holding a big knife he had gotten from the kitchen. He stabbed his brother. He cut him in so many pieces again and again that when he was done the knife wasn’t sharp anymore. Every corner of the room had blood covering it. Then John opened a door and got inside the walls of the house never to be seen again. Not until someone decided to spend a night in the house. Then he would show up once again.
Have you ever heard of a more stupid story? I haven’t. So equipped with flashlight and chocolates, Mary and I headed to the old house. Once we stepped foot in we could smell blood and rust all over the place. We set up and Mary started talking.
-Have I told you about Nick?
-No you don’t need to.
-Yeah but he was so….
And she went on. For hours. Someone must tell her to learn when to stop. And then we heard the front door open. It was a man.
-You stupid people haven’t realized in what trouble you are in.
And with that he slammed the door.
-Damn he must be staying in here and we took his house, I said.
-Yeah haha. Ummmm by the way do you also feel the breeze on your neck?
And then i heard it. Something was crawling towards us. And then one of the ceiling planks started creaking above us. And I’m sure I saw something in the corner. Maybe a rat? I tried to calm myself down and think that the butcher doesn’t exist and never did. But when Mary looked at me I could feel his presence in there with us. All these years he was hiding but now he is right next to me. I could see Mary looking over my shoulders and then….the breeze on my neck. I turned around to warn her but oh my God. OH MY GOD! Blood! Blood everywhere! I could hear Mary’s bones cracking and her being torn apart. I saw everything. But not with my eyes. It was an out of the body experience. The butchers shadow was above us.
And then I ran out. I ran and ran and didn’t stop until I was back in my house. I tripped over 2 times. Both of them I got up and continued running. I got in my house. I looked myself in the mirror. Mary’s blood was all over me. My face, my hair, my arms, it was everywhere. I sat on my bed and thought about the house’s story. How things change with time. How a little boy who didn’t want to use mechanical legs and killed his brother and then decided to get in the house’s walls and stay there even if everyone left the house. No. That’s not what a little boy would do. It can’t be true. A little boy would go to his parents and explain what he had done. And they would understand. And for sure he would have gone to the best psychologist. Then he could live a normal life. That’s what I was thinking while bending and grabbing my mechanical legs that I had gotten so good at using that none could tell I was wearing them. That’s what would happen. He would tell it to his parents and they would find the solution. I know it because that’s what happened.