The Haunting of Kurt Carver - Part 1 (Patreon)

It seemed like a good idea at the time, the Split Brotherhood had made such a compelling case for membership at orientation. They promised “literally unbelievable and life-changing self-improvement” and true camaraderie and friends were exactly what Kurt needed, being a college freshman living in a new city. But, as the car rolled to a stop in front of a building that looked like it came straight off the backlot for a budget horror movie, Kurt began to regret his decision to commit to membership.

Nowhere in the club’s grandiose speech at orientation did they indicate that not only would membership applications be deferred to Halloween for reasons Kurt found inexplicable at the time, but that the process consisted entirely of a test of bravery, something Kurt unfortunately lacked. Kurt was never superstitious before, he didn’t believe in ghosts, so the idea of spending a night in a haunted house on Halloween seemed easy enough at the time. When he arrived, however, the decrepit building’s appearance alone seemed like it would be enough to give him tetanus from just a look. Kurt couldn’t help but notice he was the only one present when the night of the challenge came about.

“Yeah, dudes around here get really skittish when you bring up the old Graymire Manor,” said Kurt’s ride, one of the large jocks from the club, “I don’t think any of the locals would spend a night inside if you paid them a million bucks.” Kurt tried to shrug off what he said, but somehow it had still gotten to him and planted a seed of paranormal worry. “Well, anyway, you have my number in case of an emergency, me and the bros at the club will be up all night if you need us.”

Kurt clutched his phone, stuffing it in his pocket as he turned around to see the club member give him a friendly wave before driving off. He turned back to the manor and sighed, proceeding through the busted section of the outer fence he was instructed to find by another club member at the briefing. Peering through a dusty window, he noticed it was rather barebones inside, it seems the place had been picked clean for antique furniture and personal artifacts long ago.

Kurt unfolded the sheet of paper handed to him at the briefing. It contained helpful notes and instructions on how to make sure his stay was safe. He was reassured by this, if a bit puzzled. Most clubs and fraternities had hazing rituals for new members, but since when did they come with instruction manuals? If this wasn’t hazing, what was it? Is this some elaborate first step of a greater prank? Was the paper itself full of red herrings and trick info? Kurt shook his head, clearing his mind of doubt, and decided to trust that the boys at the Split Brotherhood were sincere.

He followed the instructions to the door leading to the cellar and proceeded down the stairs. It was supposed to rain that night and the roof of the old building was essentially Swiss cheese. Kurt took off his backpack and set it on the floor, unzipping it to withdraw the blanket and pillow he brought with him. ’This place can’t creep me out if I’m asleep’ he thought. He cuddled up to some old barrels and began drifting o-

*THUNK*

A sudden noise shook the house. Kurt scrambled to his feet, activating the flashlight on his phone, waving it around like a madman, trying to illuminate the entire dank room at once. In the back of his mind, he was sure it was just some jerk from the club trying to spook him, but it was better to be safe than sorry. It had to be one of them, right? There was no way Graymire Manor was actually haunted, was there? “Ghosts aren’t real, I’m perfectly safe,” he repeated to himself, trying to steel his nerves with a mantra he himself almost certainly didn’t believe.

Unfortunately for Kurt, ghosts were very much real, and he was not perfectly safe. If only he had aimed his flashlight a little bit higher, he might have seen the axe making a beeline for his neck.