A light shines through the upper windows of the house that I stand before now. I know what it is. It can only be the one thing that I have spent my entire life in fear of. That one thing that I lived with for so long yet knew nothing about because I never went up there to see.

Ever since I was a child, the attic was filled with horrid noises calling to me in the middle of the blackened night. It all began when I was moved into the house to be with my new family that had just adopted me from the small orphanage on the hill. There were horrible things going on in that orphanage and my brain just blocked everything that happened to me there. My family to me seemed odd and I felt alone even when I sat amongst them. The initial day was bad enough but the night to come (and all those after) would bring on the nightmares that I may never outlive.

It was an old house and my room was located all the way in the west wing away from everybody. It was dark and damp, even in the middle of the day, and I hated it, absolutely hated it. I was brought to my bedroom door for the first time and watched them leave to the east wing where their much nicer Master Bedrooms resided. As soon as they disappeared into the gloom, I turned to my door and opened it just enough to peer in. I could see nothing, so I lit the candle they had given me. There was no electricity because of work being done on the power lines outside. Coincidence?

As the first spark leapt from the match, I could see that this room seemed to born forth from the plot of really bad short horror story (wink). Dark heavy curtains stopped every little bit of moonlight from piercing this damned darkens. The bed seemed ancient, as did the furniture. I walked slowly in and felt the cobwebs break around my heels. I quickly jumped onto the bed. Doing this created a huge cloud of dust that erupted from the mattress and sent me on a coughing fit (which is slightly better than a unfit cough). After the dusting passed, I gently huddled under the covers, leaving the candle lit to keep the dark from swallowing me whole.

It seemed like hours until sleep started to nibble on my ear and as soon as I started to slip away, the candle went out leaving a quick wisp of smoke. I jerked up with fear and looked around. The only thing my senses could perceive was the wind gently moaning against the muffled windows. I crept under my covers with fear in my fragile heart and tried to go to sleep, but something seemed to stop me. A sound echoed from above my head, a single footstep. I knew all too well that the attic was above me and that no one, NO ONE was EVER allowed to go up there.

Another heavy thump vibrated from somewhere. I stared in horror up at the ceiling. Suddenly, a soft laugh rang out from the darkness. It did not sound like a laugh of anything human. The night went on like that and the sounds ceased near the coming of morning. This would happen every single night that I was forced to stay here. I lived my whole life in fear of it but I never had the guts to go up and see. I told the family about it of course, but they would only give me wide-eyed glares and drop the subject quickly. Now that I am grown, I have to prove myself a man and go up into that damned attic to see that which had stolen years of my childhood sleep from me.

I look upon my childhood house now and remember how much hatred I had (still have) for it. It is near midnight and only the light of the moon guides my way. There are no lights, no lights at all. Coincidence?

The house has been boarded up ever since I left so many years ago. It was boarded up a month after the entire family had disappeared in that unholy house and I left, never to return until now. I walk slowly up the weather-beaten path to the old, saddened front door. I try to open it, but it is locked. Perhaps jammed tight from the warping of time. Looking around, I see that a window on the right side of the door is falling apart. Glancing around for any onlookers, I tear off the rotting boards of wood nailed across it. Gently, I raise my foot into the window and creep into the dreary leftovers that use to be a house.

The floor is cluttered with junk and God knows what else. I start towards the stairs when the clocked let out its ghostly chimes. "For Whom the Bell Tolls", I think allowed, trying to lighten situation. This does not work. I creak up the stairs until I reach the hallway and then move towards the west wing where the stairs to the attic are hidden away. As I walk through the musty hallway, I notice a door moving gently outwards. My heart stops in my chest, but I keep walking. Quietly, moving to the door, I peek in. It is my old room. The room where all of the nightmares kept me up for half of an eternity (if not more). It beckons me into it somehow. I see my old dusty bed and sit on the edge of the mattress. Now all I have to do is wait.

The minutes seem like lifetimes, tearing apart my consciousness and my tired brain. Finally, I begin to drowse off. I lay my head onto the decaying pillow for a small rest, just a small rest that is all I need. A faint sound brings me back to consciousness. My weary thoughts can barely comprehend where I am. Another sound comes from above. I sit straight up and remember everything. I know that the time is near. The time for my imprisoned soul to be free.

I hop out of the bed and make my way to the door when the soft whisper comes again. I can barely hear it, but it was calling to me. God help me, it is calling out my name. The laughter starts, louder than ever. My legs shake with fear, but I have to get hold of myself. I have to or all I have done will fail and I will never know.

Suddenly, all goes silent. The laughter just stops and echoes away throughout the hellish halls of my childhood torture chamber. I walk through the hall to the final small door on the end. I grab hold of the rusting handle and slowly turn it. With a small click, it opens, showing the dark abyss where the stairs to the attic are held. I take a flashlight from my pocket and turn it on. It's eerie glow cast shadows to all sides as I step carefully up the stairs. One, by one, without a sound. I can see the door lurking closer, closer, closer, to what may be my death or destiny. I will not turn back , never. My name is whispered again. It comes from behind the door. I tightly grab the door handle and sum up all of the will power that I can muster. Taking a deep breath, I SWING the door inward with all my might.

I fall to the ground into darkness. My flashlight breaks upon impact with the floor. I gently get to my shaking feet. Once again my name is whispered from the darkness. But where, where is it coming from? The laughing begins, it becomes louder and louder until my ears feel like they would burst from my head. That God awful laughter rings through my soul as I try in vain to cover my ears. It comes from everywhere at once and then a huge light BURSTS forth from all angles and what I see waiting for me I cannot never fully explain, for there…standing right in front of my fear ridden body is…..

....women. Lots of women. And they have beer, Keystone Beer. They say that I can never leave. NEVER LEAVE AGAIN. The door seals tight behind me. Never to be opened again.

So no one knows where I am and they will never know. My fears of a lifetime have been discovered finally. I may now be missing from the rest of the world, but I can finally sleep and dream. That is, if I ever have time. Through my lust for the discovery of my fear, I have found an eternity of beer and sex. So the next time you hear a bump in the night or voices that call to you in the dead of twilight. It may just be scantily clad young women with a never-ending supply of brew and energy. Why not? Stranger things have happened. Looks like you know now that it's ME that goes bump-bump-bump in the night. Know what I mean? Can I have an AMEN, brother? I bet Clive Barker or Stephen King never had a kick-ass ending like this. Wooooo……

THE END