Every Sunday morning, Belle and her friends Chaz, Carol, and Becky met at the tennis court in the town park for a game of...well, tennis. You can't do much else on a tennis court, can you? Belle worked all throughout the week and usually didn't have time for fun activities. Between her job, her online college courses, working out, and helping around the house, her time was pretty much all spoken for. That left her free only on Saturdays and Sundays, and sometimes she didn't even get her Saturday because she had to go into the salon. Belle was able to handle all of it without going crazy or turning into a tired and defeated raccoon who dragged through the day, but it wasn't easy. She looked back on her (slightly) younger years and missed having the freedom to do whatever she wanted when she wanted to do it. Moreover, she missed not having a packed schedule. She could just curl up with a book or lay in bed on her phone and not have anything hanging over her head. No deadlines, no responsibilities, just smooth sailing all day long.
Ahhh, that was the life.
But not her life. She had grown up and was now a boring old adult who always had somewhere to be and barely any time to get there. The simple pleasures of her childhood were no more, and she couldn't pause to enjoy them very often because adulthood is like juggling chainsaws: Once you start, you better not stop, because if you stop, bad things are going to happen. At least young adulthood was that way. Once you're older and more established in life, you can afford to take a breather here and there. Belle was in her nation building phase. She had to chart and construct the infrastructure so that future generations could enjoy it. Future generations in this case meaning her older self...and her kids if and when she had some. She saw herself eventually marrying and having children, but that was a concern for a later date. She was of the mind that a family comes only after personal success. She didn't need to be a millionaire or anything, but she wanted to have a career, a home, and a little money saved up before starting a family. She would set out to achieve these goals on her own, but she wasn't against the idea of getting married first and then achieving them with her husband.
See, a lot of young people today think like this, but they maybe take it a little too far, girls especially. They've been told that they have to be independently successful for so long that they lose sight of reality. One person can't really make it on their own these days unless they have a really good job. That's not because of sexism or anything, it's just the fact of life. Costs are up and wages really haven't kept pace. Belle's parents were solidly middle class, but it took both of them working to maintain their lifestyle. Maybe in the fifties one person could support a household on their own, but not anymore. A lot of young people stay single because they believe that getting married is too expensive or something. Then they wonder why they struggle. Well, duh, you're one person going it alone. That doesn't cut it these days. You need two people. Now, you don't have to rush into marriage, but at the same time, maybe you shouldn't be so militantly against the idea.
Just a suggestion.
Anyway, Belle wanted to have all her ducks in a row before focusing on marriage, but that was something she'd give more thought to when the time came. For right now, she was hustling to get her life off the ground and that sucked up all the free time she had. Sundays were her only guaranteed day off since she didn't have classes and the salon was closed. She tried to pack as much into her Sundays as possible but sometimes she felt really lazy. After being on the move for six straight days, she just wanted to veg out and grow roots. She couldn't do that so she made sure to start the day with exercise of some description. Exercise gets the blood pumping, and that gives you an energy boost, so why wouldn't you do it? That Sunday morning in mid-October, she started with a predawn jog around the neighborhood with her little sis Cristina. She had been working with Cristina to help her lose her gut and Belle was happy with the progress: Cristina had lost just over ten pounds. Now she doesn't look so pot-bellied.
After their run, Belle took a cold shower and drank a special breakfast smoothie packed with vitamins and vegetables. It tasted awful but things that are good for you usually do. At nine, she dressed in a pair of white shorts, a white polo shirt, and white tennis shoes. She did this because that's how you're supposed to dress when you play tennis so that's how she always dressed for her Sunday morning match. She did wonder, however, why white. Like, white is the worst thing in the world to wear when you're outside playing sports. It shows every little speck of dirt and makes you look like a giant slob. Granted, tennis isn't exactly a full on contact deathmatch like football so there's less of a chance you'll get filthy playing it, but you could still fall down, and when you perspire, your shirt lets everyone around you know about it.
Some things are a mystery.
Belle shoved her tennis racket into her bag and went downstairs. Her parents were sitting at the dining room table eating breakfast, Mom in a pink robe and Dad in a blue one. He read the newspaper as he sipped his coffee and Mom took dainty little bites of her eggs. "You guys are up late," Belle said. That was both true and untrue at the same time. Mom and Dad usually slept in on Sundays, so nine was a perfectly normal time for them to be just sitting down to breakfast. Nine to Belle, however, was late.
"We can't all be young and full of energy," Dad said from behind his paper.
"But I can," Belle chirped.
Mom snorted. "You won't be forever. One day you'll be slow, tired, and in your forties like us."
Opening the fridge, Belle said, "Your forties isn't that old."
"Yeah, you think so," Mom said, "then you get there and realize that it is."
Belle doubted that. She saw lots of fit and active people in their forties. Mom and Dad just didn't take care of themselves the way they should. They weren't unhealthy or anything, but they also didn't exercise and eat right. They also didn't get enough sleep. During the week, they both went to bed at 11pm and woke up at 6am. That's seven hours. You're supposed to sleep for at least eight. Now….Belle herself didn't always get a full eight, but she tried. Remember, she had a lot of work to do. Mom and Dad's lives were up and running, all they had to do was maintain it. Belle was still building hers. It takes a lot more effort to start something than it does to keep it going. You know what they say about objects in motion tending to stay in motion.
Belle poured herself a glass of orange juice and drained it. "I think you guys just need a different dier. Maybe have a salad instead of greasy bacon and sausage."
"That'll be the day," Dad said.
"Okay," Belle relented. "Your funeral." She slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'm off to the court."
"Alright," Mom said, "be careful."
She said that every time Belle and Cristina left the house. Never about anything specific, just in general. Look both ways, use protection, don't take candy from strangers (unless they're Uber Eats drivers, then it's okay), and don't step on any cracks. Belle was always careful because she had a brain and didn't want to get into any trouble. Unwanted pregnancies, getting mown down by a car, and being kidnapped by a weirdo in a trenchcoat were not things that would ever happen to her if she had a say in the matter.
After kissing both of her parents goodbye, she went outside, where the sun was bright and warm despite the autumn chill. The trees blazed orange and gold, and dead leaves carpeted the street and sidewalk. Halloween decorations, pumpkins, and other harvest related dressings adorned the porches and yards along the street.
On cue, Carol's car turned onto the street and rolled to a stop at the curb, leaves crunching beneath its tires. Belle went down the walk and climbed into the passenger seat, pulling the door closed behind her. "Hey, guys," Belle said.
"Hey," Becky said from the back.
"What's up?" Chaz asked.
"Ready for some tennis," Belle said.
"Me too," Carol replied and spun the wheel. "We gotta stop real quick, though. My mom wants a pack of cigarettes."
Belle missed a beat. "Uh, don't you have to be 21 to buy cigarettes?"
"Everywhere but Flip's," Carol said.
Ahhh. That made perfect sense. Flip, owner of Flip's Food and Fuel, was probably the greediest and most unethical man in town. He was the type who'd sell his mother for a couple bucks. Of course he'd sell cigarettes to kids. A couple boys she knew in school used to always have cases of beer in their trucks and Belle could never figure out where they got it. If she had to guess now, she'd say Flip gave it to them.
"Good old Flip," Belle said.
"Old fart Flip," Chaz said.
They turned right and then left onto Main Street. Flip's was a mile down, across from the post office and a little hole in the wall Chinese place that only did take out and delivery. They pulled into the parking lot and up to the door.
The windows were dark and there was a handwritten sign in the door. Carol squinted. "What's that say?" she asked.
Belle put her hand up to shield the glare of the sun from her eyes. "Closed," she said.
Carol sighed. "Of course. He's probably drunk somewhere." She texted her mother and then dropped the phone in the console. "Mom's just gonna have to go out herself."
From Flip's, they drove south to the park, which was largely empty at this early hour. They parked in a lot between a baseball diamond and the tennis court, and Carol killed the engine. "I might have to leave early," Becky said. "They may need me at school."
Becky was on the Royal Woods High Activities Committee. They were working on turning the inside of the gym into a haunted maze. They wanted to have it up and running a week and a half before Halloween. They were charging five dollars a person, two dollars for kids. Becky had asked Belle to play a role in the maze ("All you have to do is wear a bloody mask and jump out whenever someone walks past") but she turned her down. It sounded fun and all, but Belle was too busy to scare fourth graders in a gym.
As if reading her mind, Becky asked, "Do you have any plans for Halloween?"
They were walking across the parking lot to the tennis court, which was surrounded by a high chain link fence. "Probably just taking Cristina trick or treating," Belle said.
"You gonna dress up?"
Belle lifted and lowered one shoulder. "Probably not. I'm too old for that."
"You're never too old to dress up for Halloween," Carol said. "Even my dad dresses up."
"Putting in a pair of plastic vampire teeth from the dollar store doesn't count as dressing up," Becky said.
"I didn't say he did a good job of it," Carol pointed out.
On the court, they paired up into teams, Belle and Chaz on one side and Carol and Becky on the other. Carol served the ball and the game began. Despite his size, Chaz was light-footed and graceful, moving with a quickness and elegance that you had to see to believe. Carol swung her racket and hit the ball; it went high, sailing over the net like a bullet, and Belle ran backwards, bringing her own racket up and batting it back. Becky dove for it but missed; the ball hit the ground and bounced. Belle and Chaz high fived while Carol went to get the ball.
They played thus for nearly an hour. Carol and Becky scored a few points but Belle and Chaz led for much of the game by a comfortable margin. All of the stress and worries of life melted away from Belle's shoulders, and she forgot all about her troubles for a while. Here, in the midst of the game, she was as free of the rigors of the world as a little girl playing with her friends on a sunny summer afternoon. It wasn't often that she got to escape from things so totally, and she savored every second of it. On the court, nothing mattered but keeping the other team from scoring. The game was simple and easy to pick up, not complex and convoluted like life itself. After a while, they broke to sit on the benches flanking the court and drink water. Becky checked her phone for the long awaited texted from Marion, the committee head, but apparently none had come. She was probably hoping one would so that she could get out of getting that butt whooped by Belle and Chaz.
"My feet are killing me," Becky said and rubbed her ankle.
"Of course they are," Belle rolled her eyes.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Becky demanded.
"It means you're making excuses."
Becky threw her head back. "No I'm not."
"One more round," Belle said. "Winner takes all."
That got Becky's attention. "Yeah? Okay, maybe my feet don't hurt that bad."
Belle snorted. "Thought so." She turned to Chaz, who was texting someone, and swatted his chest with the back of her hand. "Up for one more round, big guy?"
"Sure," he said, "just give me a second."
When Chaz was done, they got up and went back onto the court. "I'm bringing my A game this time," Becky warned.
"I thought you left it at home," Belle said.
"Serve the ball and find out."
Okay then.
Belle tossed the ball into the air and whacked it with her racket. It shot over the net, and Becky wound up for an epic spike. The racket met the ball and it took off like a rocket. Belle and Chaz both went for it but missed and collided. They turned and watched the ball clear the fence. It arched over the street and came down in the overgrown front lawn of a dilapidated white house with broken windows and peeling paint.
"Wow," Belle breathed. "I have to admit, that was -" she turned as she spoke, and stopped when she saw the others' expressions.
Their faces were all frozen with fear.
"Uh...guys?"
No one replied.
Whatever.
She went after the ball and made it to the sidewalk before her friends caught up with her. "Wait!" Carol cried. Belle stopped and turned around. "You can't go over there!"
"Why not?" Belle asked.
"It's haunted," Becky said, out of breath.
"It's the murder house," Chaz said ominously.
Oh boy, that old story again.
Local legend had it that many years ago, an evil old man lived in the house. He would kidnap children, take them to the basement, and scoop out their eyeballs, which he'd put into a bowl made from the top of a human skull and eat while watching TV. The old man supposedly died when one of his victims shoved him into the furnace and escaped. The old man died screaming in the flames and his spirit instantly started haunting the place. People reported seeing lights in the windows at night, hearing strange noises, and seeing a spooky figure dressed in black standing at the upstairs window, looking out at the world beyond.
"Oh, come on," Belle said, "you guys don't really believe that, do you?"
No one spoke. They were frozen and pale, like chunks of ice.
Belle sighed. "Whatever."
She started across the street, and the others came alive. Chaz sobbed, Becky screamed for her to come back, and Carol nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "You'll die!" Becky called.
"Please come back," Chaz wept.
The house loomed over her, gray and dirty like a skull dug fresh from the ground. The windows were wide and black, like demon eyes, and a metal sign reading STRODE REALITY banged against one of the porch's support columns. Belle's feet suddenly felt heavy and cold dread sloshed in the pit of her stomach like ice. She swallowed hard and forced herself on. There was nothing wrong with this house. She was letting her friends' superstition get to her. She looked back over her shoulder just as Becky, Carol, and Chaz ran off screaming. They piled into the car and peeled out in a cloud of smoke. Belle sighed and shook her head.
What a bunch of pussies.
Turning back to face the house, Belle walked over and picked up the ball. She held it in her hands and looked up at the house. The momentary rush of fear she felt was gone and now she was annoyed. She'd prove this place wasn't haunted once and for all.
She went up the walk and climbed the stairs. The porch creaked dangerously beneath her feet and she stepped carefully. She went up to the window beside the front door, cupped her hands, and peered in. Beyond was a parlor coated in dust and littered with broken pieces of furniture.
A black shape flickered in the corner of her eye and a white face filled her field of vision. A scream erupted from Belle's throat and she jumped back, almost falling.
"What are you doing here?" Lucy Loud asked.
Belle's hand fluttered to her chest and she sucked great gulps of air. "You scared me," she said.
"Good," Lucy rejoined. "That's what you get for trying to break into other people's houses."
"I wasn't breaking in," Belle said. "I just wanted to see if the place is really haunted and why people think it is." She crossed her arms defensively over her chest. She could not see the little girl's eyes for her bangs, but she could feel their penetrating scrutiny.
Finally, Lucy said, "I know why they say that."
"The story about the murders -"
Lucy shook her head. "Not true."
The house, Lucy said, belonged to her Great Grandma Harriet's husband (so her great-grandfather, Belle supposed). He lived here for twenty years before dying at the age of 101. He was, Lucy explained, your typical grumpy old man who hated kids, especially the teenagers who'd hang around outside. They blasted rap music and threw eggs at the house. He would come out waving an old double barrel shotgun that probably didn't even work and threaten to "call the sheriff." One day, he came out and a bunch of boys mooned him, sending him into a fatal heart attack. With his dying breath, he swore to come back and haunt the teens who had wronged him.
"I've contacted him from beyond," Lucy said, "he says it's dark and cold where he is."
A shiver went down Belle's spine, and she backed away slowly. "I gotta go, I, uh, have -"
"Have fun," Lucy said, "I'm going to go inside and check it out. I've never been before." With that, Lucy spun on her heels, opened the door, and went inside.
Belle called after her, but the little girl disappeared into the gloom.
For a second, Belle stood where she was, locked in indecision. Part of her wanted to get the heck out of Dodge, but instead, she went to the door and poked her head in. "Lucy," she called, barely above a whisper. Dust swirled in beams of sunlight falling through holes in the ceiling and a set of steep stairs led to the second floor, butting Belle crazily in mind of a yawning mouth. The place was much bigger than it seemed from the outside. To her right was the parlor and to her left what looked like a study full of old bookcases, bronze busts, and furniture covered with sheets. Dust swirled through the chilly air and the smell of must and rot washed over Belle like a bad dream. She hesitated. If she left and Lucy got hurt, she would never be able to live with herself.
Because of that, she slipped into the house, closing the door softly behind her. The latch caught with a click that echoed in the emptiness of the house. "Lucy?" she called. "Lucy?"
"In here," Lucy called from the study.
Belle went in and found the little girl standing before a towering bookcase crammed with rotting hardbacks. Cobwebs fluttered in the corners and rats thumped in the walls. At least, Belle hoped they were rats. If they weren't...they were ghosts.
It occurred to her that if she was wrong, that if ghosts were real and the house was haunted, she had just opened herself up to being haunted by coming in here. "I think we should go," Belle said.
"Are you kidding?" Lucy asked. "This place is wicked."
Before Belle could stop her, Lucy took off, disappearing through an archway leading to a hall. Belle sighed and followed. Upstairs, creepy paintings lined the walls, and their eyes seemed to track you as you passed. At the end of the hall, a suit of armor stood on a pedestal, and Belle gave it a wide berth. She stopped, looked around, and called out to Lucy.
Without warning, the armor's cold hand fell on Belle's shoulder. Her eyes wide wide, her hair stood up on end, and she jumped so high that she almost crashed through the ceiling. She wheeled around just as a gang of fat rats darted from the foot of the suit. The hand, still outstretched, fell off and clattered to the floor. Another rat ran out, and Belle took a deep breath.
When she found Lucy, she said, "So this place isn't haunted...it's just creepy."
"Yeah, Great Grandpa Herbert isn't here," Lucy said. "He moved to the cemetery so he's not here anymore."
Belle's shoulders sagged. "You could have said that sooner."
"I just remembered," Lucy said.
They checked the whole house, from the cob-webby kitchen to the attic full of bats. Eventually made their way back to the study. "Are we finished now?" Belle asked.
"Yeah," Lucy said, "just let me grab this book I saw." She went over to the bookcase and pulled a book out. Suddenly, the floor opened up beneath them and they were falling through a long, dark tunnel. Belle screamed in terror and Lucy said, "Ahhhhh."
They hit the bottom and rolled, the dirt floor cushioning their impact. They sat up and Belle rubbed her still spinning head. "That was -"
The words died on her lips. The basement was filled with mirrors, coffins, and spooky pictures. The walls had been painted deep black and touches provided a low, flickering light. "Someone's here," Lucy said.
"Let';s get out of here," Belle said.
They got up and went toward the stairs, but skidded to a stop when a hulking black figure stepped out. Belle's heart sank into her stomach and her mouth fell open. The figure was tall and bulky, its frame clad in a ratty black robe and a hood over its head. Its face was hidden in shadows and it clutched something in one skeletal hand. Belle and Lucy both fell back a step and the creature emerged from the darkness. A flicker of firelight crossed its face and that's when Belle screamed, for it had no face.
Only a white, grinning skull.
"The Grim Reaper," Lucy breathed. She took a step forward and stuck out her hand. "I'm a big fan."
The Reaper lifted his scythe. Belle grabbed Lucy and dragged her away. "Run!"
Belle and Lucy ran down a long hallway with the Reaper in hot pursuit. He swung his scythe back and forth, cutting air, and Belle howled in fear. She and Lucy went into one door and came out of another. The Reaper followed and came out of an entirely different door down the hall. At one point, they bumped into the Reaper, and Belle screamed, jumping into Lucy's arms. The little girl's knees quivered and her arms shook but she managed to carry Belle away.
From the hall, they came to a dark and deserted ballroom. Lucy looked around, spotted something, and dropped Belle onto the floor."Come on," Lucy said. She found a coil of rope and handed one end to Belle. At first, Belle didn't know what she had in mind, but she quickly caught on. They stretched the rope out in the doorway, and when the Reaper came running in, he tripped and crashed head first into a wall with a loud scream. "Come on!" Lucy yelled.
She and Belle ran toward the stairs but the Reaper somehow got ahead of them. Lucy ran one way and Belle the other. The Reaper looked between them, confused, then went after Belle. She looked around for a weapon and laid eyes on a vase sitting upon an end table. She grabbed it, stopped, and spun around, hurling it at his hit and shattered like a bomb, spraying pieces of ceramic. The Reaper cried out and fell back, the scythe falling from his hands. Belle lunged for it, but he kicked out his legs and swept her feet out from under her. She went down hard and the Reaper scrambled on top of her. He closed his hands around her throat and squeezed; her eyes bulged from their sockets and her lungs burst for air.
Thinking fast, Belle brought her knee up and rammed it into the Reaper's groin. He let out a pained hiss of air and went limp. Belle rolled him off, jumped to her feet, and darted away. She stumbled through a maze of dimly lit corridors before coming to a tall vase that looked big enough to fit her. She climbed in and ducked out of sight just as the Reaper appeared. He walked around looking for her, and when he came to the vase, Belle popped up. "Free flowers today only," she said. She handed the Reaper a pink carnation, and he took it, bringing it to his nose and sniffing. Though his expression remained fixed and frozen, he seemed to smile. "Ahhhh," he said. He turned around and walked happily away. He was almost to the end of the hall when he jolted as if realizing what he was doing. He turned around, and Belle jumped out of the vase, her feet seeming to rotate in mid air.
She hit the ground running and ducked into another hall, where she met up with Lucy. "This way," Lucy said and grabbed her hand. "I think I found a way out."
Ha, no falser words had ever been spoken. For a couple of heart pounding seconds, they fumbled through the dark, rats and other vermin teeming at their feet.
Finally, they turned down a dead end hall and stopped. "Dang it," Lucy said.
"We better go back," Belle said.
They turned around and stopped.
The Reaper blocked their only means of escape and came forward with his scythe. Thinking fast, Belle pulled out a wad of money from her purse and threw it at him. "Please spare us!"
The money hit his chest and rained to the floor. "Money!" the Reaper said, his voice muffled. He threw the weapon aside and sank to his knees, quickly gathering the money up.
"Wait a minute," Lucy said. "I know that voice."
The Reaper was too busy with collecting his money to notice Lucy approaching with a random frying pan. She whacked him over the head and he fell limply to the floor. She and Belle rolled him onto his back and pulled his mask off.
Lucy gasped in shock and Belle exclaimed, "Jinkies!"
Flip's eyes fluttered open and he moaned. "What are you doing here, Flip?" Lucy asked.
"What do you think?" he slurred. "Trying to convince people this place is haunted."
Flip explained that he heard about the old legends surrounding the house and cooked up a plan to convince everyone the house was haunted in hopes of driving down property values in the area. That way, more poor people would move in and patronize his store. "Only poor people come to my place," he said and sat up. "Rich people get their nachos and Coke somewhere else."
Later, as the cops dragged Flip away, he shouted over his shoulder. "I would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for you meddling kids."
Belle and Lucy both grinned. "You're welcome," Lucy called.
Outside, Belle tasted fresh air and let it out in a rush. "You know, Luce," she said, "you're a creepy child, but I gotta admit, I had fun hanging out with you today."
"Ditto," Lucy said.
Flip growled at them from the back of a nearby cop car. "Watch this," Lucy said. She popped in a pair of plastic vampire fangs, went over, and hissed at him. Flip's eyes widened and he pissed himself. The cops in the car laughed at him and he flushed with embarrassment. "You're cleaning that up, Flip," one of the cops said.
From that day forward, no one in Royal Woods was ever afraid of the old abandoned house ever again.