Megan's Blog 4

Good evening. It's that time again for 5 Minutes of Horror, the radio show that will chill your soul and rattle your minds. Sit back and don't relax.

MUSIC: EERIE THEME

ANNOUNCER: THEY CAME BY NIGHT! Designed to free you from the four walls of today for five minutes of HORROR!

MUSIC: "MIDNIGHT AT THE TOP OF THE STAIRS" ...

ANNOUNCER: You are standing in inky blackness - looking up a long flight

of stairs, at the top of which lurks something unbelievably evil. Out of the

moving shadows behind you, coming closer to you, is the shadowy figure of

something that could only come from - a nightmare.

MUSIC: OUT

ANNOUNCER: Listen now as 5 MINUTES OF HORROR brings you Megan's terrifying story,

"They Came By Night"!

**Set in late 1800s America; the plains**

*Soft piano music-higher octave*

Announcer: Asa is a common American farmer with an unusual problem: his home that he had built with his own two hands…was haunted…supposedly.

*Silence*

Announcer: Asa does not believe his family’s stories, and considers them foolish figments of imagination. His family, too, knew…he would never believe…

*Tantalizing music continues-high octave*

*Sound of an axe hitting wood strikes*

Asa was carrying a bundle of wood he has freshly chopped for the chilly evening, and was walking to the front porch, when Eliza—his youngest daughter—dashed out the door. Her dress and blonde hair followed, whipping behind her.

“Father, she was there again! In my room!” Eliza said, grabbing onto his trousers in fright. Asa gave a chuckle, but stopped soon, seeing the true fear on his eight-year-old daughter’s face. He consoled her (many would say dismissed) and continued into the house and to the fireplace.

Eliza stared after her father, and then turned her gaze to her bedroom window…

*Quick, quiet strike of violins*

That night, the dinner table was quiet. Asa was eating without a care in the world, dipping his hand-cut bread in his soup. Behind him was a photograph (Asa knew they were lucky to have had a family photograph from the new cameras being developed). In the picture, was a younger-looking Asa with his wife and children, who also appeared younger—Eliza was just a baby in her mother’s arms.

In the background, stood their house, freshly built years ago when Asa had finished. However, if one was bothered to look closer, there faintly appeared to be someone in the black and white background. However, these photographs were often distorting…
*Sound of leaves on a windy night*

Asa looked up from his meal. “Yes, Eliza?” he asked amused at his daughter, who was staring at him.

“Hmm?” Eliza visually snapped out of her trance. “Nothing, father,” she said, quickly, before eating her peas.

Eliza had not been looking at her father at all. She had been staring at the photograph behind her father’s head. She had done so since she was small, and it always gave her a chilling feeling. She was too short to see the photograph up close, but some meals at the table were usually spent looking.

There was something about that photo, to Eliza—something uneasy in the way everyone looked against the backdrop of their home. It did not look welcoming to her, which was completely opposite of her mother’s feelings on the matter. She didn’t share her feelings to her parents, or even her siblings. They would never believe her. Her father already didn’t.

*Slow strings—quiet, then rising in volume*

The ten times she has seen the woman, the one in the white dress and pale complexion, she got frightened. More than she ever had before. Her blood itself seemed to turn to ice, like on a winter’s day. Because that woman didn’t live here. But she was there the day that picture was taken. And sometimes she visited at night.

*Wind stops into silence*

Asa dropped his spoon to his plate and got up, moving out of the way while his wife, Virginia, started to clear the table. The wind blew harder outside, lowering the temperature to a toe-biting chill. Asa walked to the fireplace, adding some bundles of wood to the flames. The fire reflected eerily off of the wooden walls tonight. But only Eliza seemed to take notice.

It was getting late, and Eliza and her brother and sister were shooed to bed. Laying in her bed, trying to look through the inky darkness, Eliza finally heard it.

*Creak of wood*

She stilled in her bed…as did her breathing, which no longer came.

*Silence*

Eliza got up, her bare feet seemingly frozen in place. She peeked out her bedroom door, and looked out. Nothing.

She let out a breath, and lay back in bed, eventually falling asleep. She was just overreacting…

Later, in the next room, Asa was awoken by a noise.

*Light footsteps are heard by the door*

Asa looks and sees nothing. He looks at his wife, who is sleeping peacefully, and lets out a breath. He lay back down.

*Footstep*

Lying on his side, Asa’s eyes snap back open. ‘There’s someone there.’

He slowly lowers his arm down the side of the bed, where he keeps his pistol. But before he can lay his fingers on it, the blanket covering him moves at the end of the bed.

*Loud orchestral & violin strike*

His body jerks in fear as a clammy, cold hand wraps his right ankle in a death grip.
Asa lets out a raspy yell and swings his head towards the end of the bed, where he stares into the pale, unknown eyes of the woman in the photograph.

*Dead silence*



Resources: Picture:
http://www.vintageseattle.org/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/william_thompson_01.jpg