Stonewatch - The Amherstview Horror

From: David Workman (david_workman@hotmail.com)
Story type: Ghost
Location: Amherstview, Ontario Canada
Source: Form Submission

Few houses were as well suited for a ghost as the old limestone house my parents purchased in the early 1980s. Known by the name of "Stonewatch" it was built in 1812 and served as a stagecoach stop on Bath Road fifteen miles west of Kingston, Ontario. According to local legends and documented facts, the back yard was the resting place of a family of five that died of diphtheria and later, an unknown trio of sailors who washed up on the Lake Ontario shoreline adjacent to the house. As a bonus, the room I chose as my own was supposedly built over an old Indian burial site. As if this wasn't enough to attract a ghost or two, one of the previous owners had committed suicide in the basement. This was not your run of the mill suicide. Apparently tired of his wife's constant nagging, he retired to the basement, severed a main artery with his trusty axe and bled to death. I believe this qualified him for the position of head ghost.

Sam, as he was affectionately known by my family, was a mischievous ghost. His favourite trick was to noisily clump up the stairs after everyone was in bed, or sometimes he would even follow you a few steps behind. Sam was a great conversation piece but being harmless, most of us paid little attention to him...except for my younger sister Wendy who was thirteen at the time. Wendy had a strange fear of invisible spectres creeping around behind her. This became very evident once, when I returned home and found her studying for exams outside in the snow. Apparently while she was alone inside, Sam had been taunting her by continually calling her name. From that point on Wendy refused to enter the house alone.

Stonewatch: 4423 Bath Road, Amherstview Ontario

Website: http://www.geocities.com/posker

Taking my big brother duties to heart, I used Wendy's fear to my advantage. I found that whispering her name from a hiding spot would bring on hysterics. Simply stepping out from behind a door and tapping her on the shoulder was enough to induce fainting, especially when I wore a white sheet.

Sam never bothered me. I think he recognized a good thing when he saw it. I'm sure he thought of me as his apprentice. The truth be told, he was probably jealous, but as long as I was around he could take that much needed break, hang up his chains and catch a little shut eye while hovering in a corner with his bloody axe.

During this period, my mother joined a local writers group and invited the members to a meeting at our house. Everyone (two men and four women) except my mother showed up. Mother phoned and said she'd be an hour late. I was the only family representative that evening.

As luck would have it, it was a dark and stormy night complete with thunder, lightning, and rain. This was an ideal opportunity for me. I gave them a quick tour of the house and told them to make themselves at home as I had to leave for another engagement.

All of them had heard stories about the ghost and were somewhat anxious about being left alone. I allowed them to see me leave through the front door then I quickly ran around the house and came in the back. I could hear them sitting in the living room nervously discussing the rumors about our house. Several days earlier, I had taped two fluorescent green glow in the dark eyes on the wall above the living room fireplace mantle. They blended in very nicely with the green wallpaper.

I hit the main breaker switch plunging the house into total darkness. The screams were instantaneous and continued on for the full fifteen seconds I waited before turning the lights back on. I could hear the group trying to calm each other down and suggesting that the power failure was not unusual for a night such as this. "But what about those eyes?" asked a scared voice. There was no reply.

From my hiding spot in the next room, I heard one of the ladies say she had to use the washroom. "But, I'm not going alone", she added.

The main bathroom was upstairs and after much discussion it was decided that none of the six wanted to remain downstairs alone. They all held hands and headed up the stairs. This was my cue.

Foggy Night At Stonewatch

I opened the cellar door and stood on the first few steps. The stairway leading up was directly overhead and the inverted upper steps could be seen from my location. I had with me a construction boot on the end of a broom handle. Very little practice was required to use this device to follow someone's footsteps up the stairs above me.

This was an act I had previously perfected during some of my younger sister's overnight pyjama parties. It always brought down the house. This evening was no exception. However, tonight there was a twist. I wasn't counting on one of the males being rational. I heard his voice amidst the screams, "This is ridiculous. I think it's coming from the basement".

There was no time for escape so I shut off the light and silently ran down the stairs and hid in the cistern under some old tarpaulins. The group appeared immediately and did a quick search. Satisfied that no one was there, they left. I waited a sufficient amount of time then went up the stairs to resume my haunting. That was when I discovered some kind soul had exercised the lock on the door.

I was trapped in the basement. I couldn't very well yell and ask to be let out as that could prove to be embarrassing. While I was not particularly scared of the ghost, I was not overly fond of being locked into the same room he was said to frequent. Upstairs I could hear the gentle murmuring of my guests. Having had enough, they were getting out while the getting was good. I heard the last voice, "...and I won't be back here again" then all was silent.

Time passed. I had one recourse. There was an ancient door which for some strange reason led into the bottom of an unused well that bordered the outside of the house. It hadn't been opened in decades. I managed to pry it open and found myself surrounded by spiders.

Fortunately it was not a deep well and I was able to climb up the sides. All but one of the guest, an older woman, had driven off by then. As I threw back the sarcophagus-like lid, a bolt of lightning lit up my cobweb-enshrouded form. It was this poor woman's bad luck to catch a glimpse of this in her rearview mirror.

Her head swivelled around and with a majestic thrust of the accelerator and a squealing of tires, she was gone.

All in all it had been a very rewarding night.