Scared on Carey Place in the Haunted Hatchet House

By Nikki Henley

“Kelly, Kelly, come out to play.”

Neighborhood girls roamed up and down Carey Place, searching for their friend. But they were too late.
Driven into a homicidal frenzy, a maniac wielding a hatchet plucked young Kelly from the schoolyard swings. He chased her to her house. The one with hatchet cut-outs in the shutters at the end of a dead end street. When he finished, Kelly was dead and her blood stained the porch and driveway a crimson red.
At least that’s the lore of the Hatchet House.
There’s more to this scary story and amateur sleuth, Nicole Scott has heard the truth of what happened that night. She has the unnatural ability to see and hear ghosts. Kelly is counting on her to tell the children of Eubanks her side of the story.
In a town of witches, trolls and people with paranormal gifts, not many are scared of much of anything. Halloween is a night for tourists, not locals. The eve, October thirtieth is not only the night Kelly Carey was murdered, it’s the night her killer, a millennial maniac roams the streets. If Kelly doesn’t tell the children to stay inside and stay safe.
Who else will?
Who will be next to be scared on Carey Place?
Will it be you?

This Behind the Lore short is part of Nikki Henley’s, Curious in Eubanks Paranormal Cozy Mysteries series.

Set in a small town of curiously quirky paranormal residents this short story can be read as a standalone. It is written to give you the reader an extended experience of the characters of Eubanks.
No cliffhangers. No swearing. No graphic scenes.
Thank you for reading.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pace Bend Press
• Release date: Nov 5, 2018

Nikki Henley

When a Legend is remembered, it lives.Once it’s forgotten it fades away.All I ever wanted to do was tell stories. I told so many to my children at bedtime they evolved into a whole world.The series, Curious in Eubanks is set in a small town of ghosts, witches, trolls, and other paranormals with quirky talents. It’s full of mysteries and characters you’ll never want to forget.Dedicated to family, I’ll only publish family friendly stories on this pen name. There is no swearing or graphic details on the pages of Nikki Henley books.Looking for a mystery with a not-so-happily ever after. Check out the other Henley sister to find psychological thrillers that are not so cozy.I want to hear from you!Join my newsletter and receive exclusive content, available only to my subscribers.

Book preview

SCARED ON CAREY PLACE

IN THE HAUNTED HATCHET HOUSE

A CURIOUS IN EUBANKS BEHIND THE LORE SHORT

BY

NIKKI HENLEY

Second Edition, Ebook Edition.

© 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

According to Legends,

The ghost of an young girl is remembered by schoolchildren playing on the swings of the local schoolyard.

Memorialized with her in death are abundant rumors surrounding hatchets in shutters and a blood red porch.

On Halloween, crowds walk up and down Carey Place searching for the playful ghost of Hatchet House.

Chapter One

Usually death found me, but on occasion I went looking for death. It wasn’t very far away either. I lived in a town of curious folks. I myself had the unique ability to see and hear spirits who were stuck between realms. In simple terms, I saw ghosts. Some of my closest friends were spirits sticking around to haunt their loved ones and favorite places around town.

On the eve of Halloween, outsiders finished costumes and decided where to trick or treat. In Eubanks, we had a very different tradition. One fitting for witches, warlocks, trolls, giants, and residents with unexplainable gifts like myself.

We honored one of our own that was taken too soon and in a gruesome manner, young Kelly Carey of the Hatchet House. The festivities began at sunset on a one block, dead end street named Carey Place. At the end of the festival, I’d play a pivotal role and couldn’t be late, but first I had business to take care of in the local library.

The library was a straight shot up Blackwelder Blvd, a tree lined neighborhood street on my end. The road on other side of Main Street was crowded with smallish storefronts catering to tourist needs. A bike rental place, spice shop, and tobacco shop. I rode my bike past them and into the municipal parking lot across the street. The corner block housed the library, court house, and police station. Two buildings I’d been familiar with as an avid reader and estate liquidator. The latter I’d recently became familiar with after finding a talent as an amateur sleuth and solving a few random murder cases in town.

Wake up, Annah, I said, leaning over the long checkout counter. I’d entered the quiet building without making a sound. Annah, the librarian had her nose buried in a book. I helped myself to a form stowed in a metal basket on the desk below. My intention was to borrow an old volume of genealogy history from the archives.

I can get it for you. Annah jumped to her feet to help. It was hardly noticeable that she’d switched from a sitting to standing position, since at 4’ 10" Annah was the shortest person in town.

Her gesture of helping passed by unfulfilled. I had the paper in hand by the time the she’d stepped to stand in front of me.

Are you doing another estate sale? Annah asked.

My ability to listen to spirits final wishes made me the perfect candidate for the local estate liquidator. I loved the job too. Everything old fascinated me.

Just curious about something. My reason for checking the archives was far from related to an estate sale. I was looking into the background of a certain detective, but didn’t want it spread around town that I was interested in him. I distracted Annah off the topic by mentioning her favorite subject. I met with a woman with a book collection. She’s downsizing and wanted to know if I could help with a sale. I told her I had a busy schedule, but would call her in a few months.

But the old books, Annah said, pulling a pencil out from behind her ear. She had it tucked up underneath a small braid that looped around to the back of her reddish brown hair. She handed the writing utensil over to me to fill out my form. I’d help. We’d make a good team. I could appraise the volumes for you. The small woman wasn’t hiding anything. Anytime books were involved, Annah came with a sturdy cart to take the whole lot of books home with her.

Thanks. I’ll let you know if I schedule the sale. I turned on my heels while finishing the sentence. The door to the street opened up and two women walked in.

Sure. Okay. Annah cut the conversation off and strolled down the counter to offer assistance to the tourists. Hi, welcome to Eubanks. Can I help you ladies with anything?

Do you have maps in here? One of the women asked. She stood back and glanced around the room. The lobby of the library was pretty expansive with not much more in there other than the bike I’d brought in with me and the long check out counter.

Right here. Annah crooked two fingers, motioning for the two women to come forward. She then gained a few inches by stepping up on a step stool hidden behind the counter. This is downtown, she said with a smile and produced another pencil from her braid to draw on the map. You’re right here on Main Street. If you haven’t already gone, I suggest you go out to the art studio. It’s worth the bus ride. There are resident artisans including the Spoonman on site everyday.

A lover of all the creative arts, Annah preferred to point out the attractions that didn’t involve spirits or the paranormal. She believed that selling out with themed souvenirs demeaned the special talents many locals used to beautify the town. The tourists though were usually only interested in locations of paranormal sightings.

Can you just tell us where the tour bus stop is? The second woman asked. We want to see the haunted houses.

I don’t have a map of those, Annah said plainly. I can tell you a good place to eat or a quiet place to read a book.

Just give us the paper. A woman snatched at the map Annah was writing on. Annah fell off the step stool and shrank down to her usual height.

Hey. This is a library. Have some respect. I approached them before they left since I had a dog in the fight. I’d grown up in the so called haunted house that started all the Eubanks is haunted fixation. My dad still lived on the premises. The Scott house isn’t haunted. You’re wasting a trip.

She’s lying, One woman said to the other. She glanced down at the map in her hand and back up to me. You look like a local. Where should we go? And don’t say Carey Place. We’re not interested in hoaxes. She stared me down, daring me to answer her question, which made me uncomfortable.

Okay then. I cleared my throat addressed the nicer of the two. You want something real? Annah here happens to be a Dryad. I smiled and waited for their reactions. I got only blank expressions back. She speaks the ancient language of Arborine. She’s a translator for the town trees.

Uh, huh. The women laughed between themselves. Is she serious? Does the tree translator talk to ghosts too? Cause I’d like to meet one of those.

"Spirits and