Haunted

Brandon Wilde was a freshman at the University of Washington in Seattle. He had successfully rushed Sigma Chi fraternity. All that remained was initiation. He and three other candidates were seated on the couch in the den of the frat house anxiously awaiting their fate. In the past, Sigma Chi had been on probation for their radical initiations. The fraternity almost lost its charter during the initiation of Brandon’s older brother, Justin. It was alleged that he and the other initiates had raped a girl, but, she committed suicide; the charges were dropped.

Randall Snow, the head of the rush committee, was seated at a desk in front of the seated boys. The other five members of the committee were seated to either side of Snow.

“Brandon Dean Wilde, Ryan John Snider, Michael Wayne Lee, and James Paul Pope, are you ready for your initiation?”

The four on the couch answered, “Yes Sir.”

“We have an easy initiation planned for you. All you have to do is spend the night in an abandoned house. That doesn’t sound so bad, does it? Though...perhaps I should mention-the house is rumored to be haunted.” Snow continued, “There’s an old apartment building a few blocks from here, on NE 46th off of 22nd Avenue NE 46th is a short street. You can’t miss the building. It’s down the hill on 46th. It’s a brick building. You’re to spend the night in the three bedroom apartment. There’s an apartment on the downhill side of the building, but the one you want is the first apartment next to 46th on the uphill side. The livingroom, diningroom, and kitchen are downstairs. The three bedrooms are upstairs. You’re to sleep in the bedrooms. Wilde, you’ll sleep alone in the bedroom at the head of the stairs. It belonged to the ghost.”

“Is that the building where...uh...the girl...the girl that my brother was accused of raping lived?”

“Yes,” replied Snow, “do you have a problem with it, Wilde?”

“Na...no,” said Brandon, although he was really bothered by the idea of staying in the house. His brother had never recovered from whatever had happened there. He had dropped out of college-spent the day sitting in his room at home.

Snow proceeded, “Three years ago, a girl who lived in that apartment committed suicide. Some say she was raped by members of our fraternity, but it was never proved. Shortly after she died, strange things began occurring at the apartment. Some people even claimed to have seen her ghost. Before long, no one would live in any of the apartments in the building. Her room is as she left it three years ago. The furniture in the apartment was old; it’s still there. “Shortly after dark, Brad and Harry will take you over to the building. You’ll stay until we come for you in the morning.”

At 8:00 P.M., the four initiates followed Brad Harris and Harry Long, two members of the rush committee, over to the building. Since it was only four blocks from the fraternity house, they walked.

There were three doors on the uphill side of the apartment building. Harry explained that the middle door went to an upstairs apartment, the third door to a smaller downstairs one. He cut the padlock off the first door with bolt cutters. They went in.

They were in an entry way. Stairs climbed to the second floor. The kitchen was to the left, the livingroom-to the right. The diningroom was between the livingroom and kitchen. Dirty dishes remained on the kitchen counter; Thick dust covered everything; cobwebs were everywhere. Brad Harris led the way upstairs, leaving footprints in the dust. He opened the door nearest the top of the stairs.

A brass double bed was next to the windows. A dresser with a mirror was at one end, a chest next to the door. The covers, a comforter, blanket, and sheet had been turned back revealing pillows with flowered pillow cases. The room was oddly cool; strangely, there was no dust.

“This is where you’ll sleep, Wilde,” he said. You’re on your honor that you’ll sleep here-alone. Your brother was accused of raping this girl. It’s only fitting that you sleep in her room. Perhaps you’ll meet her ghost.”

Brandon, of course, didn’t believe in ghosts, but it was evident from the look on his face that he wasn’t enjoying the prospect of sleeping in her room.

After Harris and Long left, the four boys huddled together on the floor in the livingroom. They had flashlights, since there was no electricity, but there was little to do. The boys started at every sound-then would laugh self consciously. The sounds could be explained by the wind, by the creaks and groans of an old building.

By midnight, the light of the last flashlight was growing dim. The four knew they couldn’t delay going to bed much longer.

Michael and James went first. They would be sharing a room. Brandon followed Ryan up the stairs. He hesitated at the bedroom door. Opening it-entering the room-took all his will. Although they had brought sleeping bags, since there was no dust on the bed, he lay down on top of the covers. He lay there with his eyes open wide. He doubted that he would-hoped that he would not-sleep.

Suddenly the curtains at the window wafted as Brandon felt a cold breeze in the already cool room. He smelled a pungent, sickly sweet smell. He tried to sit up, but he couldn’t-was paralyzed. Was this a dream? It felt as though he were mired in the morass of a dream-a dream rapidly becoming a nightmare.

First, out of the corner of his eye, then fully, as she approached, he saw the ethereal figure of a girl, a naked girl. She glowed in the dark room. Blood streamed from her left wrist. She bent over the bed-somehow stripped him of his clothes, or he took them off. He wasn’t sure how it happened. One moment he was fully clothed; the next moment he was naked.

He thought to himself, “I must be dreaming.”

She climbed onto the bed, straddled his already hard, throbbing cock, took it into her vagina, rode it-rode him as he lay, paralyzed, on the bed. He felt the pressure building, knew that he was about to cum. It shot in streams from his cock into her-onto his stomach. After he had ejaculated, she lay down across his chest. Her body seemed to merge with his. Ice gripped his limbs; fear gripped his mind. The world dimmed. He lost consciousness.

She sat up on the bed, got to her feet, bent over to fumble with Brandon’s clothes, opened the door, and left the room. She went to Ryan’s room. He was lying on his bed, eyes open, but unable to move. She untied his shoes, removed them, unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned-unzipped his pants, then removed them along with his underwear. After climbing onto the bed, she mounted his erect penis, rode it until he filled her with his cum. When his limp cock slid out of her, she reached back on the bed to where she had placed the buck knife she had taken from Brandon’s belt. She took Ryan’s cock in her left hand, placed the open knife at base of his cock, and, with one motion, sliced it from his body. Ryan neither moved, nor made a sound, but shock and horror were evident in his eyes. She placed Ryan’s severed cock on his chest, then cupping his balls in her hand, grasped them, pulled, stretched the scrotum-cut off his balls along with their sack. They joined his cock on his chest.

Entering the last bedroom, she saw Michael and James lying on twin beds on top of their sleeping bags. Their eyes, too, were open, but they couldn’t move. She undressed them both. The only part of either of them that seemed capable of movement were their eyes and their cocks. The bobbing, pumping, motion of Michael’s ten inch cock contrasted with the stillness of his body. She mounted Michael’s cock first, seemed to have difficulty taking the thick ten inches into her orifice-rode him-it- until he filled her with cum.

Lying on his chest, drained of blood, Michael’s cock was a specter of its former self. It was soon joined by his balls.

After filling herself with James’s cum, she placed his cock and his balls on his chest, then left the room.

Light was streaming through the window when Brandon awoke.

“God, what a weird dream,” he thought. At least I made it through the night.”

Then he realized he was naked. He looked down at the dried cum on his stomach. When he raised his hands, he saw that they were covered with blood; a bloody knife lay by his side. His asshole was stretched-hurt; dried cum stained his inner thighs.