Haunting Tales in Classic Style

By Mika Paananen

Long:
Dive into good old ghost tales and follow timeline starting from modern day into historic take of 18th century.
In 'The Amazing Blutkinson Plumbers Ltd.' you are allowed to follow the brothers Blutkinson as they fix plumbings to ease people's dripping troubles, dead or alive. You don't have to call these fellows, they know where and when to visit.
Not previously published.
In 'From Snowdonia With Love,' the long life of Ms Mary Wootton did not perform ideally, but at the evening of it she decides to attempt some change. Initially an innocent looking contemplation far away from home may have quite different, yet satisfactory results.
First published on September 11, 2012.
In 'The Terror of Ennistown Hotel,' during the closing years of 19th century, a modest journalist of supernatural phenomena moves from California to the edges of young metropolis to collect evidence of serious disturbances in the Ennistown Hotel. Checking in to a room from which everyone else is checking out in the middle of the night, may be asking for evidence that is not equally benevolent compared to his previous cases.
First published on January 29, 2013.
In 'A House for Bastet' a shipping clearance clerk arrives to London in order to control some consignments from freighters up to their destinations. Watch the hectic traffic of Victorian era port as our efficient product of bureaucratic education collides with something he cannot compute.
First published on September 4, 2012.
In 'The Death of A Colonel,' a classic style 18th century adventure novella mixes it with supernatural and romance when past deeds wait for justice deep in the woods. Eagerly awaited soldiers' reunion moves forward with most extraordinary twists of fate.
First published on September 21, 2012.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mika Paananen
• Release date: Sep 18, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311177438

Mika Paananen

Mika Paananen lives in Finland Proper with wife and a furry ball loaded with razor blades called 'Ace'. Born 1965 and having been engineering in computer and telecommunications industry as well as in mediawork, writer has an extremely dim view of current world, which makes the research and writing of the past much easier and, what's best, funnier. Besides, nothing beats reading of Sir Walter Scott, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, M.R.James, Roald Dahl and others, in convenient weather and chair in sunny backyard. And why not inside during the thunderstorms. For balancing those mentioned, the works of Sir Terry Pratchett come handy.This writer has declared that he refuses to grow up.

Book preview

HAUNTING TALES

In classic style

by

Mika Paananen

Copyright 2021 Mika Paananen

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to store and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

*

Four of these tales have been published separately earlier. The idea behind collecting them into one book is a time line from present to the past, although there are no common characters or factors, apart from the supernatural of course. You may notice a slight change of styles towards the past, hence the ‘classic style’ in the title. These tales are pure fiction along with proceedings, persons and technology contained.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

The Amazing Blutkinson Plumbers Ltd. Not previously published.

From Snowdonia With Love First published on September 11, 2012

The Terror Of Ennistown Hotel First published on January 29, 2013

A House For Bastet First published on September 4, 2012

The Death Of A Colonel First published on September 21, 2012

About The Author

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THE AMAZING BLUTKINSON PLUMBERS LTD.

~~~~

The head of the family made it to the door before smaller daughter, in a fake race of sleepy expressions despite coffee and orange juice. Cold air stream appeared with a medium height craftsman who might have dropped from daughter's video game down to the vintage moustache.

'Blutkinson Plumbers, g’morning! You had a problem?'

'Erm...'

'That's okay, I'm not very awake myself either. But our Center located a pressure drop here.'

'Erm...Center?'

'Oh, you are new here. The readings down in the pumping station.'

'YAWN. Come in then...'

'EEK! Daddy, don't let 'em in.'

Elder daughter's unintentional corridor exhibition ended abruptly to the bathroom door slamming.

'Don't worry, I didn't see a thing. We can wait but mind you, there is a leak.'

The father moved aside and Blutkinson Plumbers, younger Jesse and wider Bob 'Blutkus' Blutkinson entered the apartment browsing their schematics.

'There, that room. Do we have access now?'

Father opened the door to the utility room and pointed in after deciding there was nothing embarrassing. Plumbers scurried and scanned around.

'We'll have to move the washing machine and open the wall bit, I'm afraid. See behind here, there's a spot o'water down there already. Where can we get access to your basement?'

'We don't have...'

'Ha, but of course you do have; and I'd wager...Kitchen?'

'Sure, but...'

The little girl in the kitchen noticed she was shortly lifted up with her chair and the table with her cereals comfortingly following her. The mother observed over her reading glasses and newspaper from safe distance. The rug was rolled aside. Blutkinson Plumbers snickered oddly, procured a curious looking key and opened the revealed hatch.

'There. Oopsie, thar's the smell. Just let me...'

The muttering died away as the plumber descended along rusty ladders down into the dark and then reappeared and winked to other one. The homeowner looked impatient.

'How long will it take?'

'I'd say we'll fix the leak, and blokes from the other team fix the walls during this date or tomorrow, I'd think. We'll have to open both utility room and cellar walls, but our boys are very effective.'

'You do it then. There's nobody else here during the day.'

The father took a low toned discussion with the wife. Soon enough the apartment purged out its permanent inhabitants into their everyday education and productivity. Blutkinson Plumbers glimpsed each other, smiled and said:

'Actually, there was...'

*

Next, Pallbear Street; a grey thin drizzle felt proper.

Heavy knocking produced an overaged hippie with his beard in a cup of tea.

'Mr Hillow, I presume? Blutkinson Plumbers, g'dday. We got report you might have a leaking pipe.'

'Yeah. But me pipes not leaky, haw. You bros about the plumbing? C'mon in and do your magic. But no mushrooms for you, haw haw.'

The mumbling creature disappeared into his messy living room. Something old and progressive continued from the speakers. The plumbers waited for a minute for a return but then procured the schematics. Kitchen leak, right down to the cellar. Kitchen would need a bit refurbishing:

'Mm, need random outside contractor again. When will they hire insider furbishers for us? I hate tiptoeing with the strange folks around.'

'Why worry? We always have the cargo before the lads appear to finish and polish.'

'It's just, one day they there will be an incident, I'm sure of that.'

'Being on your toes goes with the job. Come on, let's get going, the only incident here can only be hallucinated.'

A wink followed to the direction of living room where Mr Hillow had dialog with cup of tea or mushrooms.

After the partial dismantling of the cupboard and effective replacement of the pipes(only one downtown detour to fetch parts) a hardly noticeable discussion was mixed with sounds of breaking mortar and bricks:

'Careful now, this one's ancient.'

'Yeah. See that hole on the top, it's been dripping for eons.'

'I say we let him collapse, fits into smaller case.'

'Suits me, rather than gluing him.'

'That's an old joke.'

'Not a joke, someday they'll ask us to glue.'

A hollow grunt answered.

'Seriously. Go fetch the C-case.'

'I'd say B.'

'Just go.'

Upstairs Mr Hillow tried to take a grip of passing plumber's arm but was late and almost stumbled.

'Hey...Man, true pros...Sod it, I'll visit the hellhole.'

Jesse returned with a wooden box, model B, but stopped dead at the top of the stairs, staring Mr Hillow who was staring Blutkus and the hole in the wall. His mouth was opening and closing and finally a sound broke out:

'Man, that's epic! How did you do that? I mean, that's sick...That's...'

'Pipes. Just pipes. Listen, let my mate past if you mind, you're blocking the stairs,' Blutkus said in a very calm note. Since it was not possible to get more confused, Mr Hillow stepped up to let the plumber past. He withdrew into the living room and continued mumbling to tea cup whose patterns apparently were amazed to hear his tales.

*

The renovator company pulled in front of the house just as Blutkinson Plumbers left. Jesse checked the rearview mirror as they accelerated for logistics center:

'Close call, I'd say.'

'Mr Hillow? Not even close. Walking pharmaceutics he was. Whatever he saw is believed only by his beard.'

Blutkus fiddled with the smartphone on the panel.

'It never rains but it pours; we got another. Mrs Woodall down in Kipstock.'

'Blimey and f-word. I was ready to call it a day. Kipstock? You need a suit with a tie down there.'

'Bull. They love working class.'

'No cracks about skeletons in the closets then, eh?'

Among others, the B case rattled happily against tools and parts in the back of the van until it was left to the logistics center, strictly against a receipt.

*

Kipstock looked it was ready to throw up the old black van with 'Blutkinson Plumbers Ltd.' marked on the side with large gothic type. The brothers without suit and tie still got a warm welcome from Mrs Woodall at the door of her Edwardian house.

'Oh, you got here so soon. I'm so grateful, please come in.'

Mrs Woodall bore all the resemblance to a fragile little bird with a bit stooped stance and hooked nose that carried little glasses with little black eyes observing over them.

'Blutkinson Plumbers, Ma'am. You have a problem here, we hear.'

'Oh yes,' lady of the house almost chirped in high-pitched tone as they entered kitchen.'There's a nasty puddle from the kitchen cupboard and you can see it coming from the faucet pipes inside.'

'We need to find the stopcock, Ma'am. Where may we find the cellar?'

Old lady stiffened a bit.

'Oh dear, you need to the access to cellar. Mmm, let me think. Are you certain that that your stop...stopcock is there?'

Brothers glanced each other.

'Yes, Ma'am, it usually is. Unless you know better?'

'Oh dear. Well, who am I to say? Let me fetch the keys.'

The cellar door was under the stairs and blocked with a desk so huge that Blutkus had problems passing it in the corridor. Mrs Woodall went apologetic.

'I'm sorry for the trouble. My grandchildren are always running down there and I asked their parents to help block the way. There was nothing really important until now. Well, Joseph, you have to move for a while.'

The last sentence was meant to photograph of elder man standing on the desk. He seemed to stare from under his eyebrows very grim way, revealing his teeth a little like aiming to eat the camera.

'That's Mr Woodall, I presume?' Jesse asked.

'Oh yes, late Mr Woodall. He just vanished few months ago.'

'Vanished?'

'Gone. He went out the door and never came back. I had police after him but they found nothing.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Don't. He was not that good, you can tell from the picture, it is definitely him. Oh, mind your feet, gentlemen.'

Brothers panted and puffed the desk aside. Mrs Woodall played with the lock for a moment.

'There you go. I do hope you’ll find the stopcock,' said the old lady as she descended the cold stone steps, to the amazement of Blutkinson brothers.

'You don't need to...'

'Don't underestimate me, young man. I can move in my own house, can't I.'

'If you will, Ma'am but I'm sure we can work it out ourselves.'

Cellar was a cramped space if not large but the pipes going along the wall led to the old valves.

'There it is, let me see. Ma'am, you need to reserve some water, this going to be shut for a while.'

'Young man, I did that before you arrived.'

Blutkus coughed.

'Ma'am. We need to work down here. Would you be so kind and procure some tea for us?'

Mrs Woodall looked like she was going to stay on the brothers' heels but yielded.

'Why of course, where are my manners?' she said with somehow troubled chirp and had as troubled expression for a while. Then she made her exit upstairs. Brothers heard her light stepping pause on the stairs, then a chirp 'Oh Dear' and she was gone. Blutkus woke to action.

'Something's wrong here, I say. You stay here, turn that knob and I'll seek the spot.'

'I don't like it either. Make it quick,' Jesse hissed back.

The valve went shut with a creaking sound, pipes sounded like they were about to burst but then