Old Skull Barn

There it was, the Old Skull Barn. It was standing calmly in the middle of the field, ignorant to the voices of town; those who would say it was haunted. Standing was actually a generous adjective. Wooden beams were splintered and bent, barely holding up the rusty red roof. Its window frames were caving in, and thorny vines had wrapped around most of the exterior. The decrepit structure had shaped into the form of a slowly decaying head, earning the barn its name.

Different ghost stories from inside the barn often circulated through the town of Hicklebury, Virginia. At first, people said there were redheaded twin girls who sang lullabies. Then it became an older woman floating in the corner. Nowadays, people swore they saw soldiers guarding the ghost town of Endlebury, which was scattered throughout the rest of the forest.

Henry didn’t believe a word of that nonsense, but it still didn’t stop him from getting an uneasy feeling in his stomach, one he was sure not to let his friends know about. Although many folks wouldn’t even talk about the place, it was an exciting way for him and his friends to spend an afternoon in the summer of 1964.

When he finally looked up from the barn, he realized all three of them were staring at him. How long had he been in his trance?

“What are y’all staring at?”

Robby nudged Bones in his bouncing belly and pointed at Henry, “Someone’s afraid of the Old Skull Barn.”

“Am not!”

“I can hear you shaking in your boots!”

“That’s just Bones’ belly. He’s hungry.”

Meanwhile, Tom was quiet, and he appeared to be shaking. His eyes locked onto the building, “Y’all really reckon its haunted?”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared too,” said Robby, shaking his head, “I’m surrounded by sissies.”

Henry had heard enough. He took off his coonskin hat and spit on the ground. “Now who you calling a sissy? I aint afraid a nothin’ besides my pop and my pop’s backhand.”

“You’re just like Cindy Lew,” replied Robby, “All talk. Right, Bones?”

Bones shook himself awake, like he had been in deep thought. “Yeah, all talk.”

Robby didn’t say anything else, but he shot Henry a nasty look, like he had proved some sort of point. That didn’t sit well with him.

“Eat rocks, Robby. I aint a scared of you or that barn.”

“Alright,” said Robby, a grin spreading across his muddy face, “Why don’t you prove it … spend a night in The Skull.”

Henry needed to choose his words carefully lest he be looking like a coward in front of his crew. After a second, he responded, “I’d do it in a heartbeat, but pop would beat me worse than that barn if I’m not back by curfew.”

“Tell him you’re staying at my place,” said Tom, making matters worse.

Henry had to bite his tongue to avoid slapping him across the face. Tom was supposed to have his back in times like these, yet he always made things worse. Never thinking things through, that kid was.

“Fine,” said Henry, giving in, “I’ll stay there tonight.”

For Henry, being a coward was way worse than sleeping with some ghosts. It was still better than a whippin’ from his dad, so they hurried home to explain they’d be staying at Tom’s place. Tom’s mother was a drunk who wouldn’t have noticed the difference either way, but they waited until she was asleep to sneak back out.

Robby was smart enough to bring some old candles with them or else they might not have found it in the dark. As soon as they stepped into The Skull, Henry started having seconds thoughts. Old rusty beams created a maze inside the barn, and he felt spider webs crashing into his skin wherever he walked. He crept in slowly, wondering if Robby would at least have the decency to leave him one of the candles.

“You sure you want to do this?” asked Tom.

Henry wanted to grab him by the neck and spill some of the hot candle wax on him, asking a question like that after he’s the one who got him into this mess, but he figured that wouldn’t do any good.

Instead, he grabbed the candle and pretended to jab him with it, hoping they wouldn’t ask for it back. “I’ll be fine. If any of you got guts, you’re welcome to stay.”

It was extremely dark, but he still noticed Robby’s leg shaking. No one took him up on the offer, and they all seemed stunned he was actually going through with it. That was enough to hold his courage. He walked over to the frail ladder and climbed atop the overhanging platform. He pushed some hay together for a pillow and stared down at his friends beneath the dim light of his candle.

“I’ll see you cowards in the morning. Don’t let the little girls follow you home.”

As soon as they left, he regretted saying it. The silence immediately filled the void and he started to picture what the ghosts might have looked like. Soon, every shadow turned into haunting images that were flashing through his mind. Making matters worse, the fragile barn shook with every little gust of wind. He was grateful for his candle, but how long would it last?

He peeked down at his pocket watch and was able to decipher the small black lines beneath the glass; it was just before midnight, and the sun would be up in less than five hours. That wasn’t so bad.

He put his head down and made his mind concentrate on anything besides the faces of the little girls. His wrestling thoughts finally settled on the baseball game earlier in the week, and he took himself through every at bat until he fell asleep.

Upon waking, he wondered if falling asleep had been a mistake; nothing was worse than an unknown sound pulling you from the depths of a deep dream. Instinctively, he reached for his candle, but the darkness told him it had already gone out.

It took him a moment to gather his bearings, and when he did, he realized he had fallen onto the floor. His back hurt, and his pocket watch was slightly cracked. There was still enough moonlight to see the time; 3:25. In another hour, he’d stroll back into town the bravest boy in school.

It wasn’t long before he heard the sound again; it was the cling of metal upon metal. He hoped it was just the wind knocking into some of the support beams. He figured it would be just his luck to choose the night the barn finally gave way to have his sleepover.

To be extra safe, he decided to spend the final hour standing near the entrance in case it started to collapse. He slumped against the wall and peeked down at his watch; still 3:25. He would kill Robby if it had broken when he fell.

He stood there, shivering in the cool night’s breeze, wondering what his friends were up to. He imagined them waking up in the middle of the night, thinking about their brave friend Henry. He also thought about his dad and decided that when he was older he would tell him all about his courageous night in the barn. Maybe it would even make him proud.

His daydream about his dad led to other thoughts about his life and what he wanted to do after high school. He imagined all different versions of himself and could picture them floating throughout the barn. One of them was dressed in those stupid graduation robes while another was wearing a fancy suit and holding hands with a gorgeous young woman who sort of looked like Cindy Lew. She was cute, but did he really want to grow old with someone who had red hair?

As he imagined growing old, he was able to picture himself as a serious grandfather with a stern face and torn, smelly clothes. Perhaps he would take his grandchildren to this very spot, showing off the heroic triumph of his youth. The thought of grandkids brought two little girls to the barn, floating in the space between his mind and the darkness.

Eventually, his thoughts took him back to his current predicament, so he got on his tippy toes and stared into the distance. He couldn’t see any light yet, and his watch still said 3:25, meaning it was completely broken. He started to go back to his daydreams when he noticed something in the distance, but it wasn’t sunlight. It was the opposite, two shadows protruding through the path in the forest, slowly approaching the barn. They were giggling like guilty school children.

He couldn’t imagine what they were doing out there at this hour, but he decided to hide until they left. He raced back up the ladder and hid behind some piles of wood. As he readied his hiding spot, he realized he had dropped his pocket watch by the ladder. His grandpa had given that to him, and he instinctively dove towards it, grabbing it as he slid towards the edge. He hovered in the air for a moment before falling to the ground.

The couple had just gotten to the barn, and the looks on their faces made it clear they had seen him. Their screams would forever haunt his dreams. Before he could explain himself, they were running back to the forest. He tried to follow them, but his legs stopped at the entrance. He couldn’t leave … a bet was a bet.

He decided to sit down on the ground and stare off into the distance until the sunrise came. Before he knew it, he was asleep again. It was a deep, tranquil sleep that went on much too long. By the time he woke up, it was just before dawn, and he could hear voices approaching the barn. They were led by a flashlight that swept through the barn, barely avoiding his body.

“I swear, officer, we’re not crazy.”

“I believe you,” replied a man with a deep, hoarse voice. It sounded familiar.

Henry jumped up, but he didn’t think he had enough time to climb the ladder again without getting caught. Instead, he climbed atop some wooden beams and dug his face into the wall, hoping they wouldn’t see him.

“And describe what he looked like again.”

“He was young and had long black hair, sir, just like the stories. I swear it.”

The officer turned the corner first. His badge said Officer Bob on it, and he had a thick mustache.

“It’s been over forty years since that story took place,” said Officer Bob.

As Officer Bob aimed his flashlight further into the room, Henry started to lose his grip and he felt the wood giving way beneath his feet. The jig was about to be up.

“Officer, I am so sorry it was a stupid bet,” began Henry, but he was interrupted by the beam collapsing. He fell towards Officer Bob, but his body went straight through him and plopped onto the floor.

“Henry Ripple has been gone for forty years,” continued the officer, “Let’s pray he wasn’t stuck in this barn the whole time.”

As Henry tried to discern the meaning of his words, Officer Bob turned towards the couple, flashlight in his hands.

“There’s no one here,” he said.

The words were hard to hear, but that wasn’t what chilled Henry to the core. It was those eyes … he recognized those eyes. They were the same eyes that had left him in the barn forty years earlier. It was the night he died. He reached out for his pocket watch and saw that it was still 3:25. As soon as his hand made contact, he noticed the fear forming in their eyes.

The year was 2004, and the Old Skull Barn was most certainly haunted.