MicroHorror

After about a month, Mal’s girlfriend decided to move out. Patti was not the first girl to leave Mal and his house. He understood. His house, old and haunted, had been the site of a brutal murder-suicide back in the 1950s, some fifty years ago. It made all the papers back then, being the goriest crime to ever happen in the small town of River Fall. Eventually the town moved on to other news, but the tragedy in the house remained.

Mal often heard odd noises in the night and occasionally found things moved around in the kitchen where the deaths had occurred. He sometimes felt spirits there, but they didn’t bother him, so he didn’t bother them. Mal was the kind of person who didn’t think too deeply or worry about things; he took things as they came and was perfectly content to let others call the shots. He did have some strange dreams where ghosts told him stuff, asked him to do something, but he couldn’t remember what it was when he awoke.

He would miss Patti though; Mal had loaded the old Smith & Wesson .45 that he had found hidden under a kitchen floor panel with the two bullets that someone (or something) had left conveniently on the kitchen table. Oh well, there was always his next roommate.