Short Horror Stories

Headaches ~ Part One

"I cant believe you haven't heard the story yet." The kid in front of me sat sideways on his chair, elbow on my desk, talking to me.
"I just moved in, as you can kinda tell." I laughed. I had moved from Denver for my Dads work. We had been looking for the perfect home for ages. We looked through all the different books and everything, coming up short. Then, one day we went out driving and we had to stop at a corner store, when I saw a newspaper there. I grabbed it and skimmed through it. It was for a small town I haven't heard of. Because of looking for houses for so long now, I went straight to the house listings. there were no good ones. Then at the very bottom of the page, was a small blurb. I skimmed it and my face tightened into a smile. It was perfect. I ran over to my Dad and showed him. He knew it was perfect too. And we were both shocked on the price. It was incredibly cheap for one that size and in that kind of area. My Dad soon called and now we are just moving in now. I had just started at this school and already was making friends. I was telling the guy that sits in front of me about where I had just moved into, when he started to talk about some kind of story.
"I would have thought that they would have to tell you about it." My face fell. What was he talking about? What story?
"Tell me what?"
"About the guy." Wow. Specific.
"What the hell are you talking about?" I started to wonder why this kid was even talking to me. His eyes widened and started to lean in closer so he could talk about it quieter.
"Well, a long time ago, this man moved into that house. He lived alone and was rarely came out of his house. He only came out when he needed something like groceries.
Well, whenever he left the house, the next day someone would go missing. It kept adding up and was close to the twenties with missing people. They just up and vanished.
One day a plumber was called to his house and he let him in to fix it. The plumber was there for hours and the company was worried so they called the police. The police arrived and was shocked. Blood covered every square inch. Splattered and smeared. A trail went down the hallway to the closet at the end of it. They opened it and found a hidden door. They searched the closet and then entered the hidden door. It was all cement with pillars holding it up. Blood was smeared all throughout the room. The heads of the missing persons were spread throughout it and the body's mangled and skinned. The man was never found. And they never knew why he did it." He finished the story and looked at me. Did he actually believe that? Did he think that I would believe it? He searched my face for what I was thinking. I was thinking about how utterly fake it all sounded. I scoffed.
"Wow. Great fictional story." His eyebrows joined together.
"What? Thats totally true." I laughed again.
"Yeah, okay. So is a villainous murdered gonna come to my room while Im sleeping and decapitate me?" I asked, my question dripping with sarcasm. This was total bogus. There was no way I would believe this random kid I just met. He just shook his head.
"Fine. Whatever. But when you do, I will be there to say 'I told you so.'" I laughed.
"Alright. Go ahead."
He turned back to his desk, but then whipped back towards me.
"Oh, also, if you have like, a super huge throbbing headache, it is a sign of his presence." His tone was serious, but I couldn't help but to laugh.
"Thanks for the heads up. I think I'm good."

~*~*~

The bus dropped my off right infront of my house. The streets were covered in black ash fault. I could feel the heat seeping up into the air. My new house stood three story's up, towering over the neighbouring two story ones. It was darker than the rest. Its dark red bricks stood sturdy and dark roof bright from the sun. The front yard was pretty large, containing a decent sized tree. The grey front door swung open and my giddy father stood there.
"Hey, come in and finish unpacking. Were going out to eat."
"Alright be right there." I jogged to the front door and walked in. The whole house was dark. Dark wood, dark paint, dark carpets, everything. The stairs were old and scuffed from the hundreds of shoes and feet climbing it over the years. It smelt old. The old carpets and wood smelt like on old lady's house, but surprisingly, not too bad. I walked up the stairs, creaking under my weight. I made it to the top and walked to the right, towards my room. To the left was the hallway, and at the end stood the closet. I stopped and turned to that direction. I wonder if that secret door was actually there. I mentally face palmed myself. Of course there isn't. There is no door, there is no crazy killer. That kid just wanted to make you paranoid.
I already picked my room. I was an only child so there was no fighting over it. I walked in the room and was hit with a weird feeling. I couldn't place what it was. It was just different. I just shrugged it off and finished unpacking my things.

~*~*~

We went across town to a very small, but nice family diner. It was very cute, but also had killer food. We made it home pretty late, and from the day at school and all of the unpacking, all I wanted to do was lay in my bed, and fall asleep. I walked up the stairs to my room. I started towards my room when I had the urge to turn around. Whith out even thinking I spun and looked at the direction my body turned. It was the exact direction of the closet. I stared at it for what felt like hours, but was only a matter of minutes. A slight chill went creeping up my back, waking me from my 'zone out'. I made my way to my room finally and closed my door, my back leaning against it. The air instantly became lighter. The feeling of dread gone. See, this is the exact way that kid wanted to make you feel. He wanted to make you paranoid. Well, it's working. My thought train ended abruptly when a noise creeped its way under the door frame. My breathing stopped and I listened for more. I couldn't hear the noise enough to place were it came from. My palms became sweaty and I wiped them on my jeans. My heart quickened with intensity, felling like it may beat right out of my chest. It came again. A small creak. It was from the hallway. It came again. This time longer. My eyes became larger. It was coming from the closet.