The Haunting at Green Elm Cemetery Bridge

The day was warm for October, but he loved the fall regardless. The crisp, cool mornings and warm afternoons were a respite from the relentless summer heat of north central Texas.

The year was 1948 and four cattlemen were on their way back home to Chico, just north of Bridgeport. They had been out to west Texas to purchase cattle. The weather being dry and the land parched as drought had claimed it earlier that year, recalled G.E. Francis, age 92 when he shared this ghostly tale in 2002. A strange account indeed, but one that certainly gains the respect of the reader once the details of the day are told.
“We’d been on the road for hours, stuffed into Buford’s brown 1939 Buick. There was no air-conditioning in cars back then and the trip had been a long one.” The car rattled along the old Green Elm road through, what was known in those days as “the bottoms”, a stretch of dirt highway that ran between Wizard Wells, now a ghost town, and Chico. The old road is now mostly covered by water, encompassed by the far north end of Lake Bridgeport, located on the Jack-Wise County lines south of Texas FM 1810.
“We had to stop for a nature break. We were close to home, but when you got to go, you got to go! We decided to go ahead and pull over when Buford simply came to a complete stop right on the bridge. You could do that in those days as you may not see another car for a half hour or so.” This particular bridge spanned the west fork of the Trinity River and was constructed with an iron frame support beams and wooden slats for car tires.

The four companions were relieved to get a break from the cramped car as the sun was just about to set in the western sky. As they finished their business they stood on the bridge taking in the scenery and making small talk as the blue sky above faded into orange and yellow hues upon the vast Texas horizon. The bridge was called “Green Elm Cemetery Bridge,” because of its proximity to an old cemetery located about 500 yards south of its location and just beyond a bend in the river.

The Haunting at Green Elm Cemetery Bridge

House On The Corner

by Ruby Red
(Fremont CA) 
The house had seven bedrooms, a huge porch that went all the way around the house, front to back. It stood on the corner of Second St and School Place. I know this about the house because I have been there in my dreams or maybe I should say my nightmares.

The first time I saw the house I was walking with my dog. We came to the street where the house stood in all its glory. I thought to myself, "Wow that's the house in my dreams." I wanted desperately to go in and look around. It's as if the house was somehow calling me to come to it.

The windows were so big and inviting, like the eyes to the soul, if a house has a soul, maybe it dose. Is that even possible?

That night I dreamed of the big house on the corner with the big windows and the wrap around porch. As I entered the house in my dream I felt like I belonged there. It's as if I knew every nook, every room, every secret. When I awoke I felt a bit confused I could not really focus on anything other than the house on the corner.

The following day I approached the house and then got my nerve up to knock on the front door. It took a long while and as I was turning to walk away the door opened. There standing in the doorway was a small child with very sad eyes, it was a small girl about eight years old. I smiled and said, "Hello, is your mom or dad home?" She looked at me and shook her head no.

Well, I thought, that's strange for the child to be left alone. But then maybe there was a sitter with her whom she had not mentioned.

"My name is Ruby and I wanted to talk to your parents about your house."

House On The Corner

Ghost In My Room

by Daniel
(Texas) 
I had a very terrifying experience one night. Before I had never experienced anything paranormal and was very skeptical to things that were supernatural. But this night definitely scared me into believing.

It was about 11 o'clock at night when the first strange thing began happening. I had gone to bed around 10 as it was a school night and was dwelling on insomnia at this time. I was getting close to sleep and closed my eyes when my bed began to shake. I didn't know what was happening at first but when I realized it wasn't me shaking the bed I threw the covers over my head like a little kid and kept my eyes shut. The shaking lasted about 2 minutes and then abruptly stopped. I waited a few seconds and then I pulled back the covers and looked around my room. No one was there and it was completely silent. Then my doorknob suddenly started shaking like someone was trying to open my door. It shook for a few seconds then I heard the ping of the brass like the lock had been unlocked. I had not locked my door before bed. The door opened to a crack and then swung back violently and stopped just before hitting the wall. I sat upright in my bed staring at the door scared out of my mind. Then in the blink of an eye a shadow crossed the doorway and went into the hall bathroom. The bathroom light came on and the bathroom door slammed shut. I didn't know what to do so I sat frozen in my bed. I watched the light from under the bathroom door turn off and then the bathroom door open. The shadow whooshed by my door and then my door slammed shut. I immediately threw my head under the covers and began saying prayers that I remembered from my Catholic school days. I didn't sleep the rest of the night and spent the next few nights sleeping on the couch in the living room.

Ghost In My Room

Hand-Crawling

In the history of stupid decisions I've made, walking the two and a half miles to my friend's house at 1 a.m. with no cell phone because the car wasn't working...well, that probably takes the cake.

My hubby was working and my kids were at my sister's house for the night. I called him to let him know I was walking to Kelso and that I'd give him another call when I reached the apartment; he didn't like the idea at all, but he knows he can't dissuade me when I've made up my mind on something like that, so he sighed and asked that I please, please be safe.

It was darker than dark outside. I only had a flashlight to light the way, and that really wasn't much good, especially because there were no streetlights the way I take to my friend's. I shone it in patterns to keep myself distracted.

When I reached the house with the dogs, I prepared myself to jump, because they bark every time I pass and it inevitably scares me. I was braced the entire time I walked past, but there was not a sound from the dogs. That made me frown.

Hand-Crawling

Girl in White

He was sulking a little, standing at the sidelines while all the other men danced with their pretty partners. His girl had not come to the dance that night. Her mother was ill, and so his girl had remained at her side. A fine pious act, he thought sourly, but it left him at loose ends.
His friend, Ernesto, came up to him between sets with a cold drink and some words of encouragement. "After all, Anita is not the only girl in the world," Ernesto said. "There are many pretty girls here tonight. Dance with one of them."
Bolstered by his friend's words, he started looking around the dance hall. His eye fell upon a beautiful young girl standing wistfully at the edge of the floor beside the door to the terrace. She was dressed in an old-fashioned white gown and her skin was pale as the moon. Her dark eyes watched the dance hungrily from her position behind a tall fern, and he felt his heart beat faster. Such a lovely woman should be dancing!
He made his way through the bustling crowd and bowed to the girl in white. She looked startled by his addresses, as if she had not expected anyone to notice her that night. But she readily assented to dance with him, and he proudly led her out onto the floor for the next set, all thoughts of Anita gone from his mind.
Ernesto and some of his other friends gave him odd looks as he danced with the girl in white.

Girl in White

Something Evil In That House

When I was around the age of 5 my aunt lived just down the street from us. My mom would be at work a lot so I would spend a lot of time with her. I used to love going to her house especially because of her daughter and my babysitter Kim. We were very close and always got along, and while she was still alive nothing paranormal ever happened there. A few years down the road Kim moved into her mother's basement instead of her cramped room and almost immediately fell into a deep depression. She just did not act like herself at all. She stayed in the basement for three months then she committed suicide. I was not there at the time I was at my own house and I remember seeing an ambulance pull up at her house. I was still very young so I didn't know what had happened.
About a month after her death I was at her house again trying to help out my family. My aunt was very depressed so I decided to let her get some sleep and go down into the basement for a little bit. The moment I entered the basement I experienced feelings of dread and felt very sick. I immediately ran upstairs thinking I was going to vomit but I felt better almost instantly.

Something Evil In That House

Bloody Mary Returns

My stepmother was vile.  I guess most kids think that when their father remarries.  But in this case, it was true.  She only married Father because he was rich, and she hated children.  There were three of us – me (Marie), my middle brother Richard and my youngest brother Charles.  We were the price my stepmother Gerta paid for being rich.  And we were all that stood between her and inheriting Father's money when he died.  So she took steps against us. 
     She sent my youngest brother Charles away to boarding school overseas.  It had a good, scholarly reputation, but it also had the reputation for being a hard school that was full of bullies and strict discipline.  Not a place where a delicate child like Charles, who had been sickly as a baby, would thrive.  He was miserable there.  Somehow, Gerta contrived to keep him there for all but the summer holidays, and when he came home the first year he was pale and thin with dark circles under his eyes that looked like bruises.  He cried – he actually cried! – when Father told him he had to go back to the school.  But Father didn’t listen to him.  Gerta thought it would be good for Charles to go there, and so Charles went.  
  I did everything I could – encouraging letters and daily phone calls – until Gerta said it was too expensive and restricted calls to five minutes once a month.   I even got Father to book me a ticket to Europe so I could visit Charles.  Gerta was enraged when she found out.  Her blue eyes went so cold it made chills run up my spine, and her pink mouth thinned into a bitter line that bade ill for me since I had dared to interfere.  Two days before my plane left for Europe, the school called and told us that Charles had climbed up to the tallest tower and flung himself off.  He was dead. 

Bloody Mary Returns

Death Coach

It is midnight. The streets of Cohoes grow silent as the citizens turn off their lights one by one and go to their well-earned rest. The night is dark, and the wind whispers softly, touching the trees and houses, rattling a window pane here and there.

In one house, a woman sits beside her window, waiting silently for the doctor to arrive. Her beloved husband lies on the bed next to her. In the light of a single candle, she can see his emaciated face. He is in terrible pain, which even the drugs prescribed by the doctor cannot abate. She clutches his hand tightly, feeling the cold creeping through it. He is barely breathing now. She knows he is slipping away. One part of her is thankful, for she cannot bear to see him in so much pain. Most of her wants to scream out in desperation, begging him not to leave her alone.

Outside the house, the soft rumble of wheels and the clip-clop of hooves echo through the still night. The woman tears her eyes from her husband's face and looks out of the window, expecting to see the doctor's curricle pulling into the street. Instead, she sees a dark, closed coach with black gaping holes where the windows should be. The shafts at the front of the coach are empty, yet she can hear the sound of invisible horses' hooves, as the coach moves slowly down the street.

Death Coach

The Tall Man Ghost In Black

I’m 41 and I live in Sacramento, California. I know it sounds cliche, but I have experienced supernatural things most all my life but this is one of the most interesting experiences in my life thus far.
Around 1997 my partner and I rented a duplex. When we first saw the house both spaces were vacant and we got to choose which side we wanted so we picked the one that was available at that time. As we walked through the place I got a feeling the place was haunted, I thought I saw a slight glow on the kitchen ceiling but shrugged it off as light from the window. After I even told my partner what I thought but didn’t think anything of it. As a slight back-story the previous tenants moved out quickly skipping out on their debts.
Now I never got a feeling of evil or anything like that so I never felt threatened. My partner one morning woke up and looked over to the doorway and thought he saw a man standing staring at us but just laid back down and went to sleep. He told me about this the next day and thought it could have been the way the light was coming through the window blinds.
About a year later we moved our bed to another room, as there was a sump pump under the floor in that room. I woke, as I am apt to do in the middle of the night and saw a very tall man walking out of our room. He suddenly he turned his head and our eyes met for a quick second before I snatched my eyes closed pretending to be asleep. I don’t know if he walked back in the room but I refused to open my eyes for fear he was staring me in the face but I soon fell asleep again.
In the morning I told my partner what I saw. I said he was as tall as the doorway, dressed in a black cloak or coat that appeared to be full length and with a very white bald head. If I were to compare him to something you could visualize it would be something like Pinhead from Hellrasier, with out the pins of course. I could not tell you what his eyes looked like because I didn’t have my glasses on but I could tell our eyes met. My partner said that was the same thing he saw and at first accused me of copying it from him but I reminded him that he never said what he looked like.
After this we would see a shadow like mist going from room to room and one time my partner thought he saw feet walk past him in the hall and once someone sitting on the couch. We both thought this was all interesting and I became more intrigued.
One morning I was making breakfast and set the butter knife on top of the jar on the counter top. As I was sitting enjoying my toast the knife fell of the jar but it did just fall next to the jar but bounced down the counter about 4 feet away.

The Tall Man Ghost In Black

I'm Coming Down Now!

There was an abandoned house sitting in the middle of a fancy neighborhood in Calgary that nobody would go near. And I mean nobody!  Now , my pal Albert was the agent in charge of selling that haunted house and he tried everything in his power to close a deal.  But folks were too plumb scared to make an offer, even at rock-bottom prices.  Finally, Albert lit on the notion of selling the house sight unseen to a rich city slicker from the States. Worked like a charm, too, until the day the city slicker decided he wanted to visit the property after all.
Albert was all set to take the fellow there at high noon, but the city slicker’s train was delayed, so it wasn’t until after dinner that the two men set off for the haunted house. It was a dark and rainy night, but early enough in the evening that the ghost might still be resting. At least, Albert hoped this was the case.  
Albert unlocked the front door, and it opened with an ominous creak. Albert swallowed nervously, but the city slicker just chuckled and said something about atmosphere. Albert relaxed a bit, and wondered if he shouldn’t have raised the price a bit. The two men entered a tall foyer absolutely festooned with dusty cobwebs. 

I'm Coming Down Now!

Armadillo's Song

There once lived an armadillo who loved music more than anything else in the world. After every rainfall, the armadillo would drag his shell over to the large pond filled with frogs and he would listen to the big green frogs singing back and forth, back and forth to each other in the most amazing voices.
"Oh," thought the armadillo, "Oh how I wish I could sing."
The armadillo would creep to the edge of the water and watch the frogs leaping and swimming in a frantic green ballet, and they would call back and forth, back and forth in beautiful, musical tones. He loved to listen to the music they made as they spoke, though he didn't understand their words; which was just as well - for the frogs were laughing at this funny animal that wanted so badly to sing like a frog.
"Don't be ridiculous," sang the frogs as they played. "Armadillos can't sing."
Then one day a family of crickets moved into a new house near the armadillo, and he was amazed to hear them chirp and sing as merrily as the frogs. He would creep next to their house and listen and listen all day, all night for their musical sounds.
"Oh," sighed the armadillo, "Oh how I wish I could sing."
"Don't be ridiculous," sang the crickets in their dulcet tones. "Armadillos can't sing."
But the armadillo could not understand their language, and so he just sighed with longing and listened to their beautiful voices laughing at him.

Armadillo's Song

Pele's Revenge

Ohi'a and Lehua loved each other from the moment they first saw each other at a village dance. Ohi'a was a tall strong man with a handsome face and lithe form. He was something of a trickster and was first in all the sports played by all the young men. Lehua was gentle and sweet and as fragile as a flower. Her beauty was the talk of the island, and her father was quite protective of his only child.
When Lehua saw the handsome, bold Ohi'a speaking with her father beside the bonfire, she blushed crimson, unable to take her eyes from the young man. At the same moment, Ohi'a glanced up from his conversation and his mouth dropped open at the sight of the beautiful maiden. He was not even aware that he had stopped speaking right in the middle of his sentence, so overwhelmed was he by the sight of the fair maiden across the fire from him.
Lehua's father nudged the young man, recalling him to his duties as a guest. Ohi'a stuttered and stammered apologies, trying to continue his conversation while keeping one eye on the fair Lehua. Lehua's father was amused by the young man's obvious infatuation with his daughter. He quite liked this bold trickster, and so he offered to introduce Ohi'a to his daughter. The young man almost fell over in his haste as they walked across the clearing to where Lehua stood with her friends.
From that moment, there was no other woman for Ohi'a but Lehua. He had eyes only for her, and courted her with a passion and zeal that swiftly won her heart. Her father gave his only daughter gladly into the keeping of the strong young man, and the young couple lived quite happily for several months in a new home Ohi'a built for his bride.

Pele's Revenge

Rainbow Crow

It was so cold. Snow fell constantly, and ice formed over all the waters. The animals had never seen snow before. At first, it was a novelty, something to play in. But the cold increased tenfold, and they began to worry. The little animals were being buried in the snow drifts and the larger animals could hardly walk because the snow was so deep. Soon, all would perish if something were not done.
"We must send a messenger to Kijiamuh Ka'ong, the Creator Who Creates By Thinking What Will Be," said Wise Owl. "We must ask him to think the world warm again so that Spirit Snow will leave us in peace."
The animals were pleased with this plan. They began to debate among themselves, trying to decide who to send up to the Creator. Wise Owl could not see well during the daylight, so he could not go. Coyote was easily distracted and like playing tricks, so he could not be trusted. Turtle was steady and stable, but he crawled too slowly. Finally, Rainbow Crow, the most beautiful of all the birds with shimmering feathers of rainbow hues and an enchanting singing voice, was chosen to go to Kijiamuh Ka'ong.
It was an arduous journey, three days up and up into the heavens, passed the trees and clouds, beyond the sun and the moon, and even above all the stars. He was buffeted by winds and had no place to rest, but he carried bravely on until he reached Heaven. When Rainbow Crow reached the Holy Place, he called out to the Creator, but received no answer. The Creator was too busy thinking up what would be to notice even the most beautiful of birds. So Rainbow Crow began to sing his most beautiful song.

Rainbow Crow

Heron and the Hummingbird

Heron and Hummingbird were very good friends, even though one was tall and gangly and awkward and one was small and sleek and fast. They both loved to eat fish. The Hummingbird preferred small fish like minnows and Heron liked the large ones.
One day, Hummingbird said to his friend: "I am not sure there are enough fish in the world for both of our kind to eat. Why don't we have a race to see which of us should own the fish?"
Heron thought that was a very good idea. They decided that they would race for four days. The finish line was an old dead tree next to a far-away river. Whichever of them sat on top of the tree first on the fourth day of the race would own all the fish in the world.
They started out the next morning. The Hummingbird zipped along, flying around and around the Heron, who was moving steadily forward, flapping his giant wings. Then Hummingbird would be distracted by the pretty flowers along the way. He would flit from one to the other, tasting the nectar. When Hummingbird noticed that Heron was ahead of him, he hurried to catch up with him, zooming ahead as fast as he could, and leaving Heron far behind. Heron just kept flying steadily forward, flapping his giant wings.
Hummingbird was tired from all his flitting. When it got dark, he decided to rest. He found a nice spot to perch and slept all night long. But Heron just kept flying steadily forward all night long, flapping his giant wings.

Heron and the Hummingbird

Spirit Lodge

The great chief Quaquahela lived in peace with his people on the banks of the River Styx where it entered the lake waters. Their lives were busy and full. The warriors hunted and fished, the women cooked and cared for the old and the young, and all lived in peace with the natural world around them.
Quaquahela determined one day to visit with a tribe far to the south of their village. He set out at dusk, paddling across the lake, and then walking inland towards the lodge of a friend, where he would spend the night before resuming his journey. He had gone only a few yards from the lake shore when he heard a terrible snarling, and a huge bear came bursting forth out of the bushes nearby. Quaquahela was well-armed with his war club and his hunting gear, but the bear was his totem, and so it was forbidden for him to kill the creature. Thus he fled back toward his canoe, intent on escape. But the enraged bear threw itself forward and knocked him to the ground.
Desperate now, Quaquahela wrestled with the bear, beating it repeatedly with his war club, trying to drive it off. Blood stained the ground from many wounds as the bear fought with the mighty chief. At last, the chief drew his knife and stabbed the bear repeatedly around the head and throat until it released him with a final, blood-chilling growl. Quaquahela crawled away from the bear and collapsed on the ground. His body was torn and broken, his wounds grievous. He turned himself over with great effort and looked toward his enemy, his totem. The bear was dead. With a moan of contrition and despair, Quaquahela's head fell back to the earth as he succumbed to his injuries. He died a moment later.

Spirit Lodge

El Muerto

After getting the lay of the land, so to speak, frontier man Bigfoot Wallace moved from Austin to San Antonio, which was considered the extreme edge of the frontier, to sign up as a Texas Ranger under Jack Hayes. In them days, Texas was as wild as the west could get. There was danger from the south from the Mexicans, danger to the wet and north from the wild frontier filled with Indians and desperados, and to the east the settlements still had problems with the Cherokee Nation. General Sam Houston himself had appointed young Captain Hays, a hero from the battle of Plum Creek, to raise a company of Rangers to defend San Antonio. Hayes had high standards for his men. They were the best fighters in the west, and they had to be, considerin’ the fact that they were often outnumbered fifty to one. A man had to have courage, good character, good riding and shooting skills and a horse worth a hundred dollars to be considered for the job. Captain Hayes knew all about Bigfoot Wallace and signed him on the spot.
So armed with Colt pistol and a Bowie knife, Texas Ranger Bigfoot Wallace once more took on the Wild West, and quickly made his mark on Texas folklore. In them days, the Rangers tended to handle stock theft at the end of the rope, so to speak, stringing up the bandits, forcing a confession out of them, and then leaving the bodies swaying in the wind to deter other outlaws. Only it didn’t work, and the bandits kept right on stealing, sometimes passing right under the bodies of their fellow outlaws to do it.

El Muerto

Visits

ver since I was about 8 or 9 I remember experiencing strange events and feeling like I was different because of them; other kids didn't have these things happen to them, or see the things I saw. My first recollection of something *odd* was waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of my mother crying. I looked over to my right; standing in the doorway was my mom. Only, she was see through, and was crying and holding a huge wooden rosary that we owned, and just looking at me, shaking her head right to left and slowly falling to the ground. This continued until she was in a sitting position on the floor and then she disappeared. I remember looking away, rubbing my eyes, literally pinching myself thinking I was dreaming. But *it* disappeared when it was good and ready. After that, things became more intense. I would have instances of sleep paralysis and there would be a ghostly woman/figure (banshee?) screaming at me and trying to grab me or attack me. I could barely move, but sometimes I managed to fight back. Every morning after I would wake up with bruises in the shape of a hand and finger prints on my arm or legs. During that time I was also having a recurring dream that I was looking out my bedroom window and God (represented by my dad) and the devil were fighting for my soul. I could see the shadows of 2 figures hitting and struggling. I remember this dream like it was yesterday, so vivid, and I was so scared that God (my dad) would lose because I wasn't sure what would happen to me... But I knew it wasn't good. This continued for years.

Visits

Man In The Bedroom

A couple years ago, my family moved into a brand new house. We were so excited to live in it, because we had moved close to family. My mom let my sister and I pick which rooms we wanted. Naturally, since I was the oldest, I wanted the bigger room. I settled into my new room, and was enjoying it. After a couple of nights after just moving in, I felt uneasy, like I was being watched. I would always find my eyes wandering over to the closet. I told my mom the next morning, and she didn't think much of it, since we had JUST moved in.
I kept on feeling watched for about 6 months. Eventually, I refused to sleep in my bedroom. I wanted to sleep with my little sister. After a while after sleeping with my little sister, my mom told me I had to go back to my old room, and my little sister was going with me. Her old bedroom became the guest bedroom. Even though I had my little sister with me in my bedroom, I still felt like I was being watched!
I told my mom, and she told me I could move into my sister's old bedroom, which was at that time the guestroom. I slept in the guestroom for a couple of nights, and decided I liked it. It became my new bedroom. I was so excited, because in this bedroom, I didn't have the feeling of being watched.
After settling into my new bedroom, I became fascinated with the "Other Side." My sister and I were talking about it one night, and out of nowhere, she says, "There is a man in my room near the closet." I immediately ran to my mom, where she was reading in bed.

Man In The Bedroom

Joaquin Murietta: Bandit of the Goldfields

Joaquin Murietta and wife Rosita lived with his older brother Carlos in California. The three Mexican immigrants were living on a small, successful farm and the men were also working a claim near Hangtown. However, the other miners living nearby tried to run them off, telling them that it was illegal for Mexicans to pan for gold or hold a claim. The Murietta brother's ignored their threats and continued to live peacefully on their farm and work in the gold-fields.
Enraged by this flagrant disregard for the American laws, a drunken mob attacked the little family late one night, shooting Carlos, and then ravishing and murdering Rosita while Joaquin was forced to watch. The mob bound the Mexican to a stake in the yard, where they beat him with a whip. He strained angrily against his bonds, but finally his wounds overcame him and he slumped senseless against the post. The mob left him for dead, but when a few sober citizens came the next day to help the Mexican family, Joaquin was already gone.
A few months later, a dark-bearded, long-haired stranger with cold black eyes set up a gambling establishment in Hangtown. Shortly after the stranger's arrival in town, miners started going missing, one after another, and their dead bodies were turning up in unlikely places. All of them had their ears cut off. A few of the smarter folks realized that each of the dead miners had been a party to the illegal slaying of Carlos and Rosita Murietta. There were thirty-one men in the mob that night, and fourteen were now dead. When this became known, the other seventeen men scattered to the winds overnight; but one by one, they were hunted down, killed, and their ears were cut off.

Joaquin Murietta: Bandit of the Goldfields

Hold Him, Tabb

Yep, I remember what it was like before the railroad came through these parts. I used to earn my living by carting supplies from town to town on horse-drawn wagons. Not easy work, no sir. Especially in winter. One cold December day, I was traveling with my buddy Tabb, when it began to snow. Gee wilikers, it was cold!  We needed to find shelter quick, and I was delighted when I spotted an abandoned house.
We thought we were real lucky, finding such a good shelter. As we unhitched the horses, a fellow stopped by to talk to us. Claimed he was the owner of the property. Told us we were welcome to stay but the house was haunted.
The owner said that no one who had ever stayed in that house had made it out alive. That was good enough for me. I hitched Ol’ Betsy back up to the wagon and moved up the road to a stand of trees that offered some shelter from the snow. Tabb said he wasn’t afraid of no ghosts, and he didn’t plan on perishing in the snow.  I wasn’t about to risk my neck in a haunted house. I built a fire as best I could and waited through the long night, wondering a couple of times if Tabb wasn’t the smart one.

Hold Him, Tabb