When police constable Colin Dare is called to deal with a complaint at a student house, he expects it to be as boring and as straightforward as every other one of these incidents he has dealt with – but then he sees the red lettering splattered across a sign outside the house like an ominous warning: ‘If you dare’…
My three years at university have gone so quickly, and in my 2nd and 3rd years I rented a semi-detached student property with my friends – who, just to give you some context as to what we’re like, call me ‘Grandad’; we were never your typical partying students – where we ended up living next to a nightmare neighbour.
We had complaints about our doors being too loud when they close, our voices being too loud – we couldn’t sit in the garden when the weather was nice without there being a complaint.
So, as is the case with pretty much all my novels and stories, I took this small, common theme and splashed a layer of horror onto it (as well as taking a therapeutic author’s revenge on a real-life person!).
Give it a read –
If You Dare
By Keelan Berry
Dare.
The only part of the red lettering that caught his attention.
He stopped the car – this was his destination anyway. He leaned forwards and rolled his window down. He felt his forehead crease as he read the three words that were splattered across the “TO LET” sign on the front garden.
If you dare.
His eyes moved to the front door of the property – 50 – this was the house.
Noise complaint.
He had only been assigned to the University of Tornwich for a little over a month, but already he knew how this was going to go, only every so often was there something other to deal with than noise complaints, and even then it was dull: parking disputes, littering, bins not taken care of, overgrown gardens (as though students had any interest in gardening, even if it did start to look like a forest outside their house).
He looked back to the red letters. If you dare. Most students were obliging, or at least obedient, when he had to pay them a visit, but if the students who lived at number 50 had written those words across the sign then this was one instance when he didn’t know what to expect.
He left his car, keeping his eyes on the house the whole time, as he walked up next door’s path to their front door. Number 48.
As he turned to knock the door, he was taken aback to find a figure already standing there, staring at him. He looked at the man – cropped grey hair, pink jumper and beige cargo shorts. Mismatched. Already he could tell this was going to be an experience.
“Colin Dare.” He introduced himself after clearing his throat, still partly startled by the man’s presence, and partly because the sign in next door’s garden was still on his mind.
Dare.
The man looked him up and down, “Sure you’re not one of them?” He snarled.
Colin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes or sighing, he’d received similar comments before (sometimes just looks), but none of them as vindictive as the tone of this man’s voice just now. “I was a student not too long ago myself, yes, a few years ago now, but that helps me be better at doing this. They’ll be more responsive and then we can help to sort whatever issues-”
The man coughed loudly and waved a hand, “Come on.” And he disappeared down the darkness of his hallway, the only thing visible after a few seconds were the man’s white trainers, which Colin noticed for the first time. More mismatch.
Colin Dare followed the man into his living room, where he was already sitting down in an armchair seated towards the window. From there, Colin guessed the man would be able to see into next door’s garden, and possibly the front of the house too.
The man looked out of his window and sniffed, tapping his fingers on the leather chair. After a few moments, he turned back to Colin, and said nothing.
Colin wouldn’t sit if a seat wasn’t offered to him – which it had been every time in these situations, even at student houses.
“So,” Colin began, taking his hat off and placing it under his arm, “Excessive noise from the student property next door last night, is that correct?”
The man sniffed again and looked back out the window, “I thought nobody had moved into that house this year. I was under the impression it was no longer in use… up for sale, I’m sure I heard.”
“I thought so too.” Colin nodded, “I’ll need to get in touch with the landlord later on anyway, so I’ll find out what I can do about the status of the property then… but obviously it looks like it’s still occupied by students for now.”
The man made a noise, almost like a growl, as the rate of his fingers tapping on the chair grew faster.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened last night?” Colin almost moved to sit down, but stopped himself, just shuffling his feet instead.
“Bloody noise. That’s what happened.” The man leaned forward suddenly, “Must have been ten – maybe fifteen – students in that bloody house last night. Music. Shouting. Laughing.”
Colin was beginning to find the man comical; the venom with which he had said the word ‘laughing’ showed his disdain for any form of enjoyment. But Colin had to remain professional and impartial for now, no matter his feelings. “And you called university security?”
“Three bloody times.” The man held three fingers up, “Three bloody times I called them to come out, so they could tell them off!”
Colin bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.
“But every time they came out they just came straight here and said they hadn’t spoke to the residents because they couldn’t hear anything. I’m sick of it!” Spittle flew from the man’s lips and his head shook due to the aggression with which he spoke. Finally, he fell back into his chair, staring out the window, tapping his fingers on the arms of the seat. His chest rose and fell rapidly.
A figure appeared in the doorway, Colin looked and saw a teenage boy – surely this man was too old to have a teenage son?
“Ah! Keith Junior!” The old – or maybe not so old – man sat forward in his chair, “Tell Mr Dare about the noise last night.”
The boy took a seat on the sofa, “They were very loud.” He nodded and jerked a thumb in the direction of the house next door.
If you dare.
Surely it couldn’t be any crazier than this house was? Colin hadn’t met the students yet but already felt a little sorry for them.
“Okay.” Colin said, sidestepping towards the hallway, “I’m going to go over there now. I’ll contact the landlord later.”
The man started wagging his finger, his breath heavy as though he was trying to push his words out, “Tell them no more noise!” He exclaimed. Colin gave the son one last look too, who was nodding aggressively.
Keith and Keith Jr., how fitting.
Colin left without another word; he couldn’t wait to get out of there.
He stopped outside next door’s garden, glanced at his own surname in red letters on the “TO LET” sign, before noticing the curtains twitching in the front window of the old man’s house. Colin looked beyond the sign and saw a finger wagging as the man mouthed the words “go on”. Colin’s brow creased and he quickly looked away, starting towards the front door of number 50 – the student house connected to the old man’s.
Colin knocked and waited.
Most students were always nervous and taken by surprise, but he always sought to try and set their minds at ease straight away; the uniform could be intimidating, but he’d found that co-operation came from mutual respect and a conversation rather than a ‘telling off’ (which was probably what the old man next door expected him to do).
Colin continued to wait, he looked at the semi-detached house in front of him.
Where the houses joined, a few feet from the ground, was a brick that stood out from the other regular-sized burgundy squares: this one was grey and several times the size of the others. It was more like a large rock than a brick that had just been blasted into the structure of the house.
Colin examined it for a few moments, and then started to walk towards it, his hand outstretched. He got closer and saw just how large it was; it would take him two hands to carry it. If he had the strength to lift it, that is. Colin considered himself strong, his job required it after all, but this brick – this rock – looked heavy.
His fingers were just inches away, and an iciness consumed them, as though cold air blew from the space around the grey brick.
Tap, tap, tap.
Colin jumped backwards and looked towards next door’s window, where the old man was still standing, nose almost pressed up against the glass. “Go on!” He said, and Colin heard the words, though muffled. He sighed and turned back to the front door of number 50, which was still closed.
He knocked again.
Still nothing.
He turned to the grey-haired man and held his arms up in exasperation.
The man started pointing, “Open it! Try the door, go on!”
Colin almost turned and walked away, but he had to do his job, and he wanted to get the full picture: maybe the students were annoying party animals, and that was why the man next door was so irate.
But still… the man’s attitude irritated him.
The door was unlocked, and it creaked open, illuminating an empty hallway.
Colin stepped forward, careful not to enter the house just yet.
“Hello?” He tried, looking up the stairs and towards the downstairs doors for any signs of movement, “Anyone home?”
Nothing.
Under the impression it was no longer in use.
Enter… If you dare.
Colin stepped inside the house. It was cold – colder than it was outside. The summer had been starting to fade recently but this house felt as though it was stuck in the middle of winter. There couldn’t be anyone inside – there was nobody or nothing to give off any heat, and the radiators clearly hadn’t been used in some time to reach this level of chill.
“Hello?” Colin tried again, louder this time, even though it was becoming obvious that there was nobody in the house.
He continued down the hallway, and although the house appeared bare (there were no shoes or coats in the hallway as there always was in these houses) there was the unmistakable stench of rubbish that hadn’t been taken out from what Colin assumed was the kitchen.
He opened the door, and instantly the smell wafted into his face just as the cold had from the grey rock outside.
Maybe there was someone living here, after all.
Was the old man just on edge? With everything that had been happening in Tornwich recently he could understand that at least; a lot of parents were on edge. Over the summer, the cannibalistic killer Landon Barker had escaped from prison, going on a killing spree through Southumberland’s Wald Forest before disappearing.
It wouldn’t be the first case of that he’d dealt with so far since being assigned to the university.
He pinched his nose with one hand and entered the kitchen. Used plates and cups were strewn all across the surfaces and the sink was filled to the brim. The bin’s lid was on the floor, unable to be placed on top due to the overflowing rubbish.
He examined the plates more closely; old food, sauces, crumbs, all encased in mould.
Now looking up, one of the cupboards was already partially open and – because of what Colin assumed was a draught entering the room from him opening the kitchen door – the cupboard door opened further.
There was another wave of foul stenches – Colin blocking his nostrils was no longer enough to keep the smell out.
Colin didn’t even bother looking inside the cupboard; he felt vomit rising, and so quickly shut the kitchen door.
Maybe this was a case of two nightmare neighbours placed alongside one another; careless, wild students in one house, and a moaning, belligerent old man in the other.
Colin started towards the front door, but not before pausing at a door to his left with the number 1 on it. A student bedroom. He knocked gently before slowly trying the handle. It was unlocked.
As more of the room became visible, he saw that it was unfurnished, so he opened the door wide and stepped inside. The walls had been stripped of wallpaper, there was no carpet, the room was completely empty and bare.
Colin left the room, left the house and, heading straight for his car, he ignored the old man tapping the window behind him.
*
“Mr Jones?”
“Speaking.”
“This is police constable Colin Dare. I’m not sure if you’re aware but there was a noise complaint at one of your student properties last night, security dealt with the situation then but I was called out this morning as one of the officers assigned to the university.”
“Right.”
Colin had expected more concern from the man for one of his properties, but he sounded completely disinterested.
“Well, there was no-one present, so I was just wondering-”
“Yes, of course, Mr Dare; just give me the property address and we’ll send someone out to-”
“No, Mr Jones, that’s not it. I’m not entirely sure there’s anyone living there.”
There was a pause. “I don’t understand. If there was a noise complaint…” He trailed off.
Colin told the man the name of the street the house was on, “Number 50.”
More silence.
“Mr Jones?”
The man on the other end of the line cleared his throat, “I… I, erm… I don’t…” His voice disappeared once more, but returned, firmly, “I own that property but I don’t deal directly with it anymore, not since last year. I’d been looking to offload my student properties for a while, and last year a businessman made me an offer for that one: the house is still mine, the money still comes my way, but they take care of it and… everything. Looking after all those student properties was getting too much for me, you understand?”
Colin rubbed his forehead, “So I assume you have to pay them a fee for their services?”
“Nope. They pay me.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Colin replied.
“An offer like that… I didn’t ask questions.”
You weren’t meant to, Colin thought.
“All legal, of course.” The man suddenly panicked.
“Of course, Mr Jones… Could you put me in touch with this businessman or the company?”
*
As Colin Dare lay in bed that night, the events of the day raced around inside his head. He considered the house; how cold and how quiet it had been despite the aggressive manner with which the old man next door believed there were students that lived there who disturbed him. He thought about the bizarre deal between the landlord and “the company”. The latter, which Colin had been able to contact after speaking to the former, provided no help. Colin had been put through to a woman who simply kept repeating that nobody lived at the property, and when Colin quizzed her on the deal between the company and Mr Jones, she simply said she was not allowed to reveal those details.
Colin would have gone to his superiors about the issue, because whatever was going on went way beyond his remit, but that meant that Ralph Cox would somehow be involved – and he was as shady as this company appeared to be. In fact, knowing him, he probably worked with the company.
At some point, he dozed off, but his mind continued to race. He saw himself standing outside number 50 again, staring up at the “TO LET” sign with the words “If you dare” sprayed across it. Except this time, it was blood. The words were clear at first, but soon the red liquid trickled and dripped, almost completely covering the sign and soiling the green grass below.
Colin saw himself in the dream, and he wasn’t a policeman, he wasn’t even a man: he was his five-year old self.
“What do you see, Colin?” The voice of a lady said. Five-year old Colin looked around, but there was nobody near. The whole street was empty. And dark. And quiet. It was just him. He knew it was just him.
“Go inside, Colin.” The voice said.
He turned towards the house, and the door opened slowly. Nobody behind it, nobody in front of it.
But then, from the dark hallway a figure emerged. It came towards the front door. Colin recognised the cropped grey hair, the mismatched clothes, the bared teeth. The old man was shaking his fist in the air.
“If you dare!” He shouted.
A hand touched Colin’s back and gently urged him forwards.
He turned his head and saw the old lady. She smiled warmly and her eyes – behind a pair of red cat-eye shaped glasses – were friendly. Her white hair tied up as a bun on top of her head only reinforced her grandmotherly image.
“Colin, listen to me,” She said seriously, “You need to go inside the house.”
“IF YOU DARE!” The old man spat.
Colin felt himself waking up, he could feel his bed beneath him, the image of his younger self and the old lady fading…
“Colin! You need to go back to the house!”
His chest heaved, his heart thudded and the sweat poured.
He sat bolt upright in bed, leaping to his feet and turning the light on, but he was alone.
It was still dark outside, but he knew he wouldn’t get back to sleep. Instead, he quickly got dressed and headed out to his car.
He’d been told where to go.
It was no dream. It was a reminder. Memories of his childhood that he’d long forgotten.
*
Colin pulled up outside the house. No lights on inside. In the distance, the first signs of the sun rising were showing, but it was still over an hour away from lighting the sky fully, he guessed.
As he shut his car door behind him, the front door of number 50 starting to open stopped him dead.
There was a metallic sound, and a flame – floating in mid-air – lit up the hallway.
Colin’s leg shook, and he almost turned to go back to his car, but then his eyes adjusted and he saw the figure holding the flame – the lighter.
“Colin!” The old lady exclaimed in a hushed voice, “Come on in.” She gestured for him to enter.
He looked around, saw nobody, and so entered the house with the old lady shutting the door behind him.
The house was cold, and everything seemed so still and silent, as though he’d entered a different world.
“I’ll get straight to the point, my love.” She said, her tone serious but her eyes still friendly, her smile still warm. “The spirits are leaving Wald Forest.”
“What?” Colin said, resting a hand on the wall.
The old lady sighed. “You remember me, don’t you?”
He nodded, “Vaguely.”
“Then you remember your gift?”
Colin hesitated, “I…”
She lifted the lighter higher, “I need your help, Colin… We need your help. That’s why we called you here.”
“The noise…”
“That’s right.” She nodded, “Me and the students who used to live here, we made it so the man next door got annoyed enough to call someone out, knowing you’d eventually come. It’s getting too crowded. You need to free us.”
“What is this house?” Colin asked.
“It was a normal house…” The lady explained, “But the brick…”
“The grey one?”
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“It acts as a beacon. It’s drawing the dead from Wald Forest and bringing them here.”
“Why?”
“We’re being collected.”
“Collected?” Colin thought of the company the landlord had spoken of, how shady and mysterious the whole thing had seemed.
“It seems to be an experiment being conducted. But many spirits are getting lost, and the house is not big enough. The forest… it is torturous for many, but there is room.”
“How does the brick act as a beacon?” He asked.
“The bridge that runs through the forest,” She began, “Trains used to run across it, taking people all over Southumberland. But it was mostly destroyed decades ago; cut off at both ends where it leaves the forest. The part that remains… The famous part… The Bunny-Man Bridge. It draws them in. The dead.”
Colin tried to process everything, but the woman continued.
“The company… they have tried this sort of thing before, years ago, in different circumstances. You might remember it from your childhood.” Her eyes widened in anticipation.
“The Bunny-Man children’s show.”
She nodded.
“I remember wondering what happened to it…”
“The company was behind it all.” She said, “They wanted to draw him – it – out… or at least inspire more maniacs. Now… I don’t know what they’re trying to do, but they’re expanding, they’re getting stronger, more influential.”
BANG!
Colin felt his skin almost shed itself as he jumped backwards.
There was someone at the front door.
“Take this.” The old lady offered the lighter to him, “I won’t be able to help you when they come in.”
“Who?” Colin breathed, his heart rate increasing, his blood getting warmer.
“The brick… It’s not only a beacon for the dead… It affects the living, too.”
There were more loud bangs on the front door, “Come on! Open up! What are you up to in there?!” The old man from next door. “Keith Junior! Come on!”
“You have the ability to enter our world, Colin – I call it The Forest. When I was alive your Mother sought my services when she realised you had the gift. I tried to help you, but it scared her, and so we worked to make you forget. But you are needed now. Powerful forces are at work – alive and dead. Hone your skills, find others like you, ready for the oncoming storm…
But first… Destroy this fucking house.” For the first time, her eyes darkened as she swore, and then she disappeared into the shadows of the hallway.
CRASH!
“Kick it again, Keith Junior!”
The front door shook. It was wooden and old, it would break if they carried on. Colin knew he didn’t have much time to act – the old lady hadn’t given him the lighter so he could see.
He turned and rushed towards the kitchen. As he opened the door he realised he should have covered his nose, but it was too late. The door opened and he entered. Throwing up was the least of his concerns.
However, the smell had gone. So had the plates and the mould.
There was a new smell in the room anyway, fresh and sweet, as though the room had been cleaned. However, after a few moments of adjusting, Colin recognised it. He’d visited Wald Forest enough times – this was the smell of fresh woodland air.
Instead of rubbish and mould, gathered on the kitchen floor like a small bonfire were piles of twigs and leaves (which were obviously giving off the fresh woodland scent) and paper. Newspaper pages? Books? Colin couldn’t tell. He moved closer to the assembled pit, lowering the lighter the old woman had given to him. There, in the middle of everything, was a small photograph of the old man next door, standing with his son.
Colin stood back up, he had to focus, not linger on more questions.
Colin first stood on his tiptoes and searched along the ceiling with his lighter until he came across the fire alarm – disabled. These spirits were powerful, and these were the ones apparently on his side. With the old lady warning that much stronger forces were yet to come, Colin feared for the future…
But he had to focus on his task at hand.
He bent down and moved the lighter underneath one of the pieces of paper, leaving it there until it caught alight. Colin watched the flame rise, the paper curl and then crumble, causing the flame to go out.
“Shit.”
Colin heard the wood of the front door break, and he stood, opening the kitchen door.
“Ah! Just as we thought Keith Junior!” The old man stumbled down the hallway towards him, flanked by his son, who simply stood still. “All bloody students. The same.” The old man slurred, and Colin noticed he was holding something in his hand. He stepped backwards again into the kitchen, thinking it could be a weapon, but as the old man got closer he saw it was a bottle.
Stumbling. Slurring.
Colin allowed the old man to come closer and closer. He was holding his fist in the air and shaking it just as he had been in Colin’s dream. When he got to the kitchen, Colin put his foot out, and the old man stumbled over it. For a moment, Colin thought it was all going to go wrong and that he wouldn’t fall. He twisted his body and waved his arms wildly in the air, but then completely lost his footing and started to fall backwards.
As he did so, he grabbed onto Colin, and both of them fell together.
Just after he’d hit the cold, hard kitchen floor, Colin heard the bottle smash and the old man groan aggressively in anger.
“Keith Junior!”
Colin acted quickly, he shoved the old man aside and crawled forwards, towards the pile of branches and paper that the spirits had set up for him.
Moving onto his side so he wouldn’t catch fire too, Colin reached out with his arm and flicked the lighter on again. A piece of paper ignited, and slowly, almost like dominoes falling into place, the fire crept along small twigs, spreading to other pieces of paper and eventually the larger branches – whatever had been in the man’s bottle allowing it to spread more easily this time.
Leaping to his feet, Colin grabbed the old man and brought him to his feet as well, shoving him towards the kitchen door. He stumbled into the hallway, but then the boy – his son – came towards Colin.
Colin felt the heat of the rising fire behind him and knew he couldn’t let any struggle happen in the kitchen. As Keith Jr reached him Colin held out his arms, taking the boy by the shoulders and grappling with him, trying to push him back. The boy’s strength took Colin by surprise; he was tall but very slim, almost all skin and bones, and yet he was overpowering him, forcing him backwards towards the fire.
The boy pushed, and despite Colin’s attempts to balance himself (just as Keith Senior had done earlier) he lost his footing. He twisted mid-fall, trying to judge the location of the growing fire only by the heat he could feel.
Landing on the kitchen floor once again, the fire was only inches to his side, and it was already halfway to the ceiling, about to spread to the kitchen cupboards and set them alight.
Colin looked up and saw Keith Jr looking down at him, his expression neutral and his eyes dead – the only sign of life in them the reflection of the flames from the growing fire.
A dark figure moved in close behind the tall, thin boy.
Colin looked up at them both. He had to try and escape and, as unpleasant and insane as they were, save Keith and Keith from the flames too.
“Keith Junior?” The voice of the old man came from the hallway, and Colin’s heart stopped.
The figure behind the boy twisted its head, the bones of its neck creaking, its white eyes glowing brighter than the fire as it looked towards Colin. It put a clawed hand on the boy’s shoulder, its skin was dry and cracked like stone. With the fire crackling beside him and his own heavy breathing, Colin couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard the creature breathe. Heavy, almost like a grunting.
The clawed hand gripped the boy’s shoulder harder, pushing him forwards.
The brick… It affects the living too.
The boy’s arms rose, his hands clutching together to make one large fist. The shadow man’s hands moved in unison with the boy’s, on top of them.
The hands came crashing down, and Colin, acting quickly, grabbed the hands and then twisted, leaving Keith Jr on the kitchen floor and him standing. The shadow man was gone – or at least no longer visible.
Colin turned towards the hallway, where he saw the old man standing deathly still. As the fire continued to crackle and grow, it lit up the hallway, and Colin saw the eyes.
Eight of them, behind the old man, and their hands grabbing him.
The old man was struggling to breathe, his head kept twisting to look at each of the figure’s faces in turn, his eyes wide with fear and shock.
“No…” He gasped, “No… it’s not… you can’t be… NO!” He cried, but he couldn’t wriggle free; the four shadows held him tight. They started to walk him slowly towards the kitchen, and as they came closer, their faces became visible to Colin.
All of them looked around his age, maybe a few years younger, and suddenly everything made sense in his mind.
They walked the old man into the kitchen, two of them letting him go; one pinning his son down, the other stopping to face Colin.
Colin observed the young man’s empty eyes, the bruises and red markings on his neck, “We’ll take it from here, Mr Dare.” He said quietly, before turning to face the other figures, who were standing in the fire, forming a wall so that the old man and his son could not get past them.
Colin started to walk backwards, holding a hand on the wall to steady himself.
The flames spread upwards, beginning to consume to kitchen cupboards.
A shadow flickered across the wall and disappeared onto the ceiling.
Finally, the young man with the bruised neck shut the kitchen door.
Colin felt freed.
He turned and ran towards his car.
Once inside, he started it quickly and prepared to drive away, but stopped.
The old lady had placed her hand on his, “Thank you, dear.” She smiled, “Those boys who used to live there, and all of the other spirits who lost their way, will be free now.”
Colin was breathless, he had no words, all he could do was stare.
“I will be with you whenever you need me.” She said, “I had a guide when I walked the Earth, and now I can be yours.”
Colin looked towards the house, the flames were spreading quickly, and smoke was already beginning to appear. Already he was having doubts; if the future held more events like this, he wanted no part of it. Perhaps forgetting his powers as a child had been the right thing. Perhaps-
“Go to the forest.” She said.
Colin’s head snapped towards her, “I’m not ready to-”
She waved a hand, “The real forest. Wald Forest. Go there, and you’ll see what you need to see.” With that, she left the car, and Colin did as she had told him to.
*
He walked through the tall trees of the forest as the sun rose above them, the light cutting through the leaves and casting shadows across the ground. The presence of the dead was certainly strong here; a face in every bush, a figure behind every tree, and all of them with their own stories and their own reasons for being trapped here. Colin breathed in the fresh woodland air; he had walked quite far, perhaps even a few miles. He touched one of the trees beside him, crouched down, and closed his eyes. He saw as she had told him to see, and as he looked into Southumberland’s past, he saw darkness; monsters, bloodshed, evil. As he looked into its future, he saw darkness also, but a different kind. Where the forest should be there was only a black hole. A lifeless void. There was nothing. Only black.
He left the forest.
He would do as his guide had suggested.
He needed to find others.
Together, they would prepare for the oncoming storm…
April – May, 2019
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