The Woman In White

This story is part 3 of The Pine Creek Murders, a 6 part series that started in The Girl In The House



The Woman In White

Levi Basso walked along the cliff side. It had been one week since his sister’s body had been found, battered and broken at the bottom of the cliff. The police didn’t even know what killed her; the fall, or the knife wound in her chest.

What they did know was that her death was not an isolated incident. Her’s was the fourth body found, a week after the search began.

No one had been worried when she didn’t show up for work, but after five days with no call, her co-workers became concerned. Floyd Hamilton volunteered to check on her, and that is when they found Thor

After calling the police, who could find no trace of Katie, Floyd decided to check on his sister, who had seemingly disappeared. Upon entering her house, he was greeted by a horrific sight. His brother in law was sitting in his favorite chair, his chest cut open and his entrails covered the room.

The sight when they found Mary was just as gruesome. She had been gutted on her bed, killing not just her, but also her unborn child. More then one officer had gotten sick at the sight.

The police had searched the entire town until they found her body at the bottom of the cliff. Like Thor, she had been stabbed. How she ended up at the bottom of the cliff, no one knew.

There was one thing that connected all the murders; the mark on their foreheads. Each of them had the same mark branded on them, a cross with the cross beam connected to the bottom by a curving beam on each side.

The same brand that Erik Ullrich placed on the foreheads of his family as he killed them.

The police investigation had been inconclusive. They knew that the victims had been murdered, but all efforts to find clues to the killer’s identity had failed. As the police struggled to find the killer, rumors had all ready started spreading.

That Old Man Ullrich had returned from the grave to continue his murderous rampage. That for some reason he had return to kill again, joining his daughter Lyne in terrorizing the village of Pine Creek.

With the police investigation stalled, Levi decided to start an investigation of his own. He started in the bathroom where Thor had been killed. While his death hadn’t been nearly as gruesome as the Armstrong’s it had been no less brutal. The killer had severed several major arteries, and Thor’s blood sprayed against the walls as he bled to death.

Levi’s past as a crime scene photographer, the first job he had gotten out of college, had been enough to convince the police to allow him to see the pictures taken at the scene. He had spent three days studying all of them, except those of his sister. As much as he wanted to find the killer, he couldn’t bring himself to look at the pictures of her body. They had always been close, and he knew that it would be hard enough for him to see her in a casket tomorrow at the funeral. He wanted the last time he saw her to be there, with her laying peacefully in a coffin, not of her broken and twisted body.

His investigation had failed as well, and he found himself retracing her final steps. The rain the day before had washed away her footprints, but he had followed them from Katie’s house so many times since they had found her body that he knew the route by heart.

As he walked in the failing light of day, Levi couldn’t help wondering what Katie’s final moments had been like. What had she felt as the killer plunged the knife into her chest? What she had been thinking of as she fell, and if she felt anything at all when she crashed into the jagged rocks below. The police said that she may have been alive on impact, and survived for several minutes before dying from her wounds.
Levi wondered if she had died a painful death, or if she felt anything at all as the life slipped from her body.

As he approached the site of her death, Levi saw a woman wearing a white dress. Her hair pulled back, Levi instantly recognized the earrings she wore.

They were the earrings that Grandma had given Katie on her twelfth birthday.

Levi shook his head. They couldn’t be the same earrings. Katie was wearing them now, as she lay in her casket at the Church. It was obviously the dieing light playing tricks on him.

Levi walked up to the woman, intent on finding out why she was there. As he got closer, she looked more and more like Katie. He stood beside her and was about to ask why she was there when she turned towards him.

From the side she looked perfectly normal. When he saw her face, Levi took a step back in horror. Her nose had been shattered, her jaw hung open on one side, as it had been nearly ripped off her head. An eye hung out of its socket, thanks to a shattered orbital bone. A nasty gash had opened on her forehead, and blood flowed down her face, staining her cloths. What was left of her once beautiful face, as well as the blood covering her chest, confirmed his suspicion.

It was Katie.

An unearthly moan emanated from her useless mouth as she reached towards him for help, one of her hands crushed beyond recognition. Levi continued to move away from the horrifying specter as she stumbled towards him, dragging a shattered leg behind her.

Katie reached out to him and Levi stepped backwards once more

Before falling into the void.



Few people venture hear the Basso cliffs, least of all at night. But the few who do always come back saying they heard screams bouncing off the Barrens, and tell tales of the woman in white.

The Man In The Mirror

This story is part 2 of The Pine Creek Murders, a 6 part series that started in The Girl In The House

Remember when I said that The Girl In the House was a stand alone story, and that I had no way to continue it? Well, as usually happens when I say something like that, I figured out a way, because here is part 2, The Man In The Mirror.




The Man In The Mirror

Thor Leipheimer had to admit, he had been wrong. When his fiancée had asked him to move to Pine Creek, he was hesitant. He had lived his whole life in New York. He loved the city, and enjoyed his job at the Times. He had never thought of leaving New York, and never thought he would. In the end, his love for Katie won out, and after accepting a job at the Pine Creek Gazette he moved out of the city.

It didn't take him too long to fall in love with Pine Creek. As a photographer, Thor felt like he had died and gone to heaven when he saw the trees, rivers, and other sights that had made Pine Creek famous. He especially liked walking through the Pine Barrens, snapping picks of everything he saw. It was rare that he left the house without a camera, even if it was just a little point and shoot, and he was thankful for the development of high quality digital cameras. Without them, he would have spent a fortune on film in the three months since he moved here.

Luring away a photographer had been a big deal at the Gazette, and they used Thor as much as the could, asking him to do a story about the Ullrich Murder House to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the murders just days after he started. Thor loved the assignment, delving into the Ullrich family history, learning about the murders, and of course the ghost stories that followed. Unlike Katie, Thor believed the stories were true, that Lyne Ullrich did in fact still haunt the house where she died. Of course he would never tell her that. She would just laugh at him.

On of the best resources Thor could find while doing his research had been Wendy Landis, the widow of the man who had died in the house a year ago, and his next-door neighbor. A life long resident of Pine Creek, she knew a lot about the murders, and was more then willing to help him as he wrote the article. With her permission, he had even started writing a book on the murders, including a chapter speculating that Lance's death had been connected to the curse placed on Lyne Ullrich by her father before she died.

Today however was a day to rest and relax. The book had been sent off the editor the day before, and now Thor, Katie, and their friends Mary and Taylor Armstrong were walking through the woods surrounding Pine Creek. They had asked Wendy to join them, but she said no. It was her anniversary, and she wanted to spend it remembering her late husband and by visiting his graveside. They understood.

Thor of course had his camera out, snapping pictures of everything; a bird here, a pinecone there. He even had a picture of Lance's headstone. Mary and Taylor had known Wendy and Lance for a long time and they decided to pay their respects as well.

As they walked along the cliff side over looking Leed’s Lake, Thor saw what he had been looking for since he first became interested in photography. The perfect shot. Leed’s Lake in the foreground, disappearing into the fog as the Barrens closed in from the side. He knew that none of the others could appreciate the view as he did. In fact he knew on only one other person who could; Levi Basso, Katie’s brother.

Levi and Thor had been roommates in college, had taken the same photography classes, and were the best of friends. In fact, it was Levi’s fault that Thor and Katie were engaged. When a snowstorm kept Thor from joining his family in Florida for Christmas one year, Levi invited him to join his family. When Thor first laid eyes on Katie, he knew that she would some day become his wife, and the feeling was mutual. They began dating soon afterwards, and shortly after he accepted the job at the Pine Creek Gazette, Thor proposed. They were to be wed in three months, and Thor eagerly awaited the day when they would become man and wife.

He snapped picture after picture, but there was always something missing; people. Carefully posing the others near the edge of the cliff, Thor prepared to take the shot when he saw something shining between Taylor’s legs. He looked up in time to see a person in black plunge a knife into the base of Taylor’s neck. Blood sprayed everywhere as the killer turned and slashed Mary’s throat with a single stroke. Blood sprayed from between her fingers as she collapsed to the ground. The killer turned to Taylor and finished him off, driving the knife through his throat.

Katie and Thor ran, but the killer followed, with seemingly superhuman speed. As the light faded and the shadows grew longer with the setting of the sun, Katie and Thor thought they had lost him, until he wrapped his arms around Katie’s shoulders and drove the knife up under her rib cage and into her heart. The killer again disappeared as Thor ran back to help Katie, but it was too late. As she lay in his arms bleeding to death, she pointed. Thor looked in time to see the killed, his knife raised, ready for the kill.



Thor awoke with a start, cold sweat running down his chest. It had been a dream. Or a nightmare. He looked at Katie, lying beside him and was glad that he hadn’t woken her up.

He climbed out of bed, careful not to wake her, and went into the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and saw the face of a man who had, seconds ago, been in mortal peril. Thor smiled. It was only a dream. No need to get worked up about it. He bent down to splash some water on his face, and didn’t see the man in the mirror, his knife ready to strike.

The Girl In The House

After getting three reviews that had the word creepy in the first sentance, I think my latest story is a success.  I can't take full credit. It was inspired by a short story I read called Girl In The Attic. The story is different, but concept of a girl who died in her family home and is now haunting it is the same.

I am proud of this story, because it is my first stand alone short story (the other stories I have posted here are technicaly short-short, or flash stories) Every other story I have writen I have come up with ways to continue or they were part of a larger project to begin with. While I have some ideas for more stories taking place in the same town as this one, they have nothing to do with this story :)

Warning, this is a long story. it is 6 pages double spaced in Microsoft Word. just thought I would warn you.

Enjoy.





The Girl In The House

Lance Landis enjoyed his evening run. Every day he would eat supper, put on his running cloths, kiss his wife good-bye and run for a few miles. He felt good keeping in shape, and while he would never even try to enter something like the New York Marathon, he had been in a few local ones. He even did reasonably good, placing second in last year’s 10K.

More then anything, he enjoyed the isolation. It was just himself. No telemarketers calling to try and sell him stuff he never wanted in the first place. No co-workers trying to talk him into joining the company softball team, no wife asking him what he thought of the latest decorating idea she saw in Better Homes. Just him. A chance to be alone, think about the day, think about the future. Sometimes think about nothing and just clear his mind.

Lance had chosen this route for that exact reason. True there were better paths then this nearly non-existent animal trail, but none were as isolated. He had tried running in the park, but the sound of passing cars and the people walking past annoyed him. Out here, there was nothing except the sound of the wind and an occasional animal to keep him company.

The only real down side he could think of was the fact that it gets dark, and with no streetlights to light the path, it some times became hard to follow. Several times, as the days grew shorter, he had come home in darkness, barely able to see the trail and guided only by the porch light as he exited the trail and found himself in his own back yard.

That and the house.

Lance shivered as he drew closer to it. Having lived his entire life in this town, he had heard the story. Twenty-Five years ago, this house was the site of tragedy. He had only been five then, but he vaguely remembered his parents discussing it at the dinner table the night after the police issued a statement.

The house belonged to the Ullrich’s. Fifty years ago, Old Man Ullrich went crazy and killed his wife and two sons before going after his daughter, Lyne. She managed to get away and locked herself in the attic, barricading the door so he couldn’t break it down. As he beat on the door, she realized she was trapped. She could jump, but the fall would probably kill her. In the end, as her father beat on the door trying to get in, she broke a window and used a shard of glass to slash her wrists. As she lay dieing, she wrote on the floor with her own blood what had happened. She knew that her father would never let her out of the house alive, and choose to end her life rather then die slowly of dehydration or starvation.

As her life left her, she wrote that her father had broken in. Seeing his daughter close to death, he dipped his finger in her blood and wrote a curse. Because she had been selfish and chosen to die apart form her family, she would haunt the attic for all eternity. After he was done, he put the barrel of his shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger, splattering his brains against the ceiling. The officer that found them threw up as he entered the room.

Since then the legend had grown. Anyone caught in the attic on the anniversary of the murders would join Lyne in the attic. Lights would be seen in the house, as well as shouting and the sounds of gunfire. People believed the legends, and every year some kids would try their luck, entering the house for a good scare.

Of course Lance didn’t believe the legends. Just superstition and nonsense. He was a well-educated, intelligent man. The only time he had for local folklore was while sitting around the campfire, passing a bottle of Jack around.

Still, the house gave him chills every time he saw it. Maybe it was his subconscious buying into the stories. Maybe it was just the fact that it was an abandoned house on an isolated trail. Whatever the reason, Lance tried to be past the house long before night fell. Unfortunately this night he was not so lucky. A conversation with his brother Ivan had kept him inside longer then he wanted and now he was running faster in the hopes of making up time.

As Lance drew closer, he glanced up at the attic window and stopped. In the window he could make out a girl, pounding against the glass. No doubt some stupid kid who was freaking out after her friends abandoned her. Gathering his courage Lance entered the house to help.

The house was dark and Lance cursed beneath his breath. His Mag-Light had been growing dim for some time, but he kept forgetting to change the batteries. Now, as he entered the house he turned it on to find the batteries completely dead. Slowly he made his way towards the stair and walked up them, yelling to the girl that he was there to help. The old boards creaked underneath him, adding to the creepiness of the house. In the dieing light of the setting sun, Lance thought he saw undisturbed dust on the stairs, but he ignored it. Obviously just his mind playing tricks on him.

He reached the top of the stairs and could see a broken door; it’s hinges barely hanging onto the doorframe, at the end of the hallway. Past the door he could just make out the form of a girl in a dress.

He walked towards the room, calling to the girl, the floorboards continuing to creak underneath him. For some reason she didn’t seem to hear him. As he entered the room, he could see the blood stains on the floor.  Due to the growing shadows, he could see, but not read the words she had written as she slowly bled to death.
As he drew closer to the girl, he saw that she was wearing a red dress, in an older style. Ignoring it, he reached out to her, gently putting his hand on her shoulder so as not to startle her. She turned, reaching up and touching his hand. Her touch was ice cold. What little light there was fell on her and he drew back in horror. On her wrist was a gaping wound, jagged, with dried blood.

Lance ran out of the room, with gruesome specter following him. He looked back to see her drawing closer as he reached the top of the stairs. Still looking back, he missed the top step and fell.

He landed at the bottom of the stairs and heard something snap. He tried to stand, but couldn’t feel anything below his legs. Lance began to slowly drag himself towards the door. He was almost there. He looked back and saw the spirit drawing closer. Lance reached towards the door, as everything faded to black.



One Year Later

Katie Basso enjoyed her evening run. Every day she would eat supper, put on her running cloths, kiss her dog good-bye and run for a few miles. She felt good keeping in shape, and while she hadn’t done too well in the New York Marathon, she had done better in a few smaller ones. She even did reasonably good, placing second in last year’s 12K.

She couldn’t help but smile as she ran. When her company told her that she was being transferred to Pine Creek, she had been mad. After spending all her life in New York, she didn’t think she could adjust to life in a smaller city. But after a few weeks, she had learned about this isolated animal trail and fallen in love. Nothing in NYC could match this. Everywhere she had tried running she had encountered cars or other people. Here, she was isolated; alone. And she liked it that way.

As much as she had hated Pine Creek when she first moved here, she had fallen in love with the small town. She had made friends, and for the first in her life could see herself settling own and raising a family here. She had thought about asking Thor to move here so that they could be closer. Their long distance relationship could only last so long, but at the moment he was happy working for the Times. Until something opened up in the Pine Creek Gazette, she would have to be happy with seeing him on weekends.

Probably the best friend she had made was her neighbor, Wendy Landis. She had been the one who told her about this trail. Her husband used to love running, and had taken this trail almost every day. After finishing her runs in Wendy’s back yard, they would sit on the porch, drink a few glasses of wine, and talk about life.

Katie knew that Wendy missed her husband; they had known each other since grade school and had been married for about three years when he died. According to Wendy, he had been found in an abandoned house along the trail. Why he was in there, no one knew. Apparently he had fallen down the stairs leading to the top floor and broken his back. He had also broken several ribs, which punctured his internal organs. He had tried to get outside, and had died half way through the door. The official cause: internal bleeding.

Of course Wendy had told her the stories about the house, and how some people thought that it had been Lyne Ullrich that had killed her husband. Neither of them believed the stories. They were intelligent, well educated women. They had no time for folk tales and local legends.

Still, as she ran past the house, a cold chill ran down Katie’s spine. She had run past the house before, but never this late in the day, with shadows this long. The house looked creepy, and she could understand why people thought it was haunted. The fact that Lance had died a year ago today didn’t help any either.

As she ran past, Katie looked up. In the attic window, she thought she saw a man, screaming for help. Behind him was a woman in a red dress.