Moan, moan, and moan. This is the constant noise coming from the house across the way. A tall three floor home that once could have been beautiful. The paint falls off like fall leaves off a tree. Gutters hanging limp and off their hooks. Each window has at least one crack in it. The windows like to shutter on their own sometimes. The roof is like a fluffy bed of green, filled with moss and other unsanitary things. Rot is built and ramped throughout the outside of the house.
The inside isn’t really known about. The only survivors from going into the house are now mad and in nice, white and padded rooms. Hopefully those poor souls with find peace someday again, most likely in death. Yells from the unfortunate people that had gotten trapped in the house could be heard in the asylum whenever the doors were open.
From their mad writings the house sounds haunted. Haunting at that location has been going on for a long time, possibly almost 200 years. There are many stories but the most recent was when the last family moved in. This was almost 40 years gone. It was a large family. The husband and wife seemed very much in love. Their 6 children all ranged from the ages of 1 – 10 and got on well with the other children around the neighborhood. This was a typical family back in the day when all seemed right.
Apparently they were warned not to move into this house but whoever listens to ghost stories that are sane. Proper, respectful and right of mind is just how the business man thought. If you don’t believe there is nothing to fear. If he had listened he wouldn’t have ended up of taken on such a murderous persona.
He started with the youngest by hanging her by the toes with sheets wrapped around the chandelier. The rest of the family was tied to ornate fireplace in the same room. They watched as the child swung crying out for her mother. As naked as a babe is how the saying goes and that is how the father killed it. Leaving it naked and swinging from the chandelier by her toes. A most painful way to die; blood rushing to the head and not being able to breathe correctly is always hard to watch. Finally, exhaustion made the child fall into the eternal sleep of death.
Then the 3 year old boy was next. This is not for the faint of heart. Dad must have been either scared to death or crazy as a loon on holiday. He nailed box nails through each of this poor child’s fingers and toes. Father then took his bat that he had gotten from the Yankees and bludgeoned his son in the chest until it smashed all of his insides together. His mother had gone quiet and was just staring into space by that point.
Twins were the next chosen in his murderous madness. Those two were 5 according to legend. He placed them, tied together inside the fireplace above the grates. They were begging him and howling and begging and saying, “Please no daddy.” This did no good, he was almost in a trance, as cold as an icicle. Lighting the kindling with a match the fire starts to envelope underneath the children. Once the clothing is caught that the children were wearing they lit up like dry hay in August. The stench must have been horrific and the screams were supposedly like a train whistle.
The last two were the oldest and whether he pitied them or not, no one really knows. They were killed quickly by a quick blunt force to the head. The problem authorities had in identifying what had happened to them was putting the pieces back together. Those two were dismembered and each piece was placed in different parts of the house. The hatchet he had used was never found.
Last to be killed was his wife who almost thanked him for the mercy of killing her. She could no longer breathe right. Deep in thought or more likely scared out of her mind she followed along as he pulled her by the hands that were taught with tension by the rope that binds them together. He ties her to the bed. Then her life ends with a slit throat. Slit throat would probably not be the word since the slit went all the way to her spine.
After he was done with her he walked quietly through the house. Standing at the railing looking at the chandelier where his youngest still hung his head leans slightly to the left and he frowns. Knowing all he had done this kin slayer of what once was known as a man. He did a header to the floor. The fall broke his neck immediately. Too fast of a death for a man who tortured his own children most say.
This story was known as Forebear of Darkness. People still see the man staring out the window sometimes. Hearing the moans of the children are the most frightening. The mother tries to attract people from the street to bring them into her fold. No one really knows how many lives she has claimed.
Happy Halloween to all and remember don’t enter strange houses and listen to the legends because sometimes they are true.
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