The Haunting of Reindeer Manor by Kevin Guest
The alarm went off as Anderson opened his eyes. He looked all around but was surrounded by darkness, pure sweet darkness. It had been four days since he slept in his own bed, and he thought, How wonderful it is! However, there was work to be done, and it was time to rise. He stood and pulled back the heavy curtains to let the morning sunshine in. He turned and looked, but his wife was not there. Odd, he thought, so he checked the time.
To his horror, it was 11:00 a.m. He quickly checked his email and was delighted to already have a confirmation with the council, but it was in three hours. He had to get to the university quickly and begin compiling a preliminary report.
He dressed hurriedly and ran out the door. As he was driving, he thought, What an odd sensation. I know I’m driving, but it feels as if I am also a passenger. After a few moments, his brain began to catch up with his body. He began thinking more clearly, but all the same, something just did not feel right.
He pulled into the parking lot and parked in his spot. He took a deep breath, wondering what the day would bring him. The more time passed, the more anxious he became. He shook off the feeling as best he could, trying to maintain his composure. Though he felt like a giddy school girl, it was not appropriate to display it.
As he walked into the building, a sudden sense of dread came over him, but he rationalized that it was his nerves. He shook his head, then proceeded to his office.
As he entered, Mary smiled at him. “Good morning Dr. Anderson.”
He wanted to yank her out of that seat and throw her out of his office. He felt his mouth beginning to form the words, “Screw off, whore,” but he fought them intensely. He felt anger building in him, but could not rationalize why. He had to fight his own jaw to say, “Good morning Mary.”
As he passed by, she followed him with her eyes. A sadistic smile came across her face as Anderson walked into his office.
Inside, he found everything just as he had left it. His book, the letter, the newspaper--there was nothing out of place. He quickly sat down and pulled up the files to the haunting, but nothing was there. A sinking feeling came over him and he dashed out of the office. As he walked down the hallway, he felt his blood pressure going up. His left eye began to tick as thoughts of failure filled his mind.
He burst through the doors of the computer science lab. As he entered, he ran past row after row of students, all hogging the computers. Finally, he found an open terminal. He sat down, typed in his password, and logged in. There before him were his files. He swallowed nervously as he opened them, one by one, until he came to ‘Projects’. He clicked on it, but the screen came up empty.
Sweat began pouring down his brow as his anger grew. He began to shake as he searched and searched, but he only found classroom records. The rest of his files were gone. Suddenly he vomited all over the floor.
A young student with a full beard and a gold tooth, covered in tattoos, ran up. “Professor, are you all right?”
Anderson sat back. He felt his head was in a vise. “Um…maybe, um…I can’t find my files. Can you look?”
The young man checked the data, but there was no data to be found. Anderson was sweating profusely. “Um…there was some equipment brought in last night. Could you hook it up for me?”
The young man shook his head. “That equipment was trashed. I hate to say it, but it left with the recycler over an hour ago.”
Anderson closed his eyes and nodded. He then stood and walked from the lab in a daze. The young man called for janitor to clean up the mess.
As he walked back to his office, Anderson couldn’t believe there was no data. He began going over every little detail in his head, even as his headache grew in intensity.
Mary watched as Anderson slowly walked back into the office. “Oh God, you’re a mess! How can I help?”
Anderson looked at her. “You have to tell them the truth. You have to tell them the haunting was real.”
She looked at him, “Of course I will. You just need to relax.”
She watched him slowly walk into his office. He looked so broken. As the door closed, she laughed, “Oh, I’ll tell them all right!” She called down to the dean and asked to make a taped confession. He agreed and invited her down.
Anderson sat in his chair and stared at the wall. His mind was slowly breaking; the realization of failure was too much to bear.
At 2:05 p.m., Anderson’s phone rang. He reached over and picked it up. “Hello?”
“Dr. Anderson, you asked to present your preliminary findings to the board this afternoon and we’re waiting for you. Will you please come to the general conference room?”
He hung up the phone and walked out of his office. He looked at Mary. “It’s time to go.”
She looked at him and smiled. “I’ve already had my turn, but they’re waiting on you.”
Anderson walked out of the office like a corpse. Mary could not help laughing after he was gone.
As Anderson sat down, the council stared at him with great disappointment. Anderson sighed, “There has been a glitch. My data is temporarily unavailable.”
Dean Shultz shook his head. “I don’t think your data will be necessary. We want you to listen to this.”
The dean turned on a tape recorder.
“Will you state your name for the record?”
“Mary Renee Simms.”
“Thank you, Miss Simms, and for the record, what is your position with the university?”
“I’m the secretary for Dr. Jonathon Anderson.”
“Again, thank you. What was your role in this investigation?”
“I was a general assistant to Dr. Anderson.”
“Very good, now getting right down to it, please tell the council your view of the investigation.”
“Well, it started off with a long car ride to Reindeer Manor. Once we got there, we discovered the property had no power. However, instead of searching for the breakers, Dr. Anderson insisted that we begin the investigation. He led us through Reindeer Manor, using one flashlight and our cell phones as light.
“The house was quite spooky, but given that we were walking around a strange building in the dark, that’s not unusual. So we toured the house and found it was quite old with some very nice artwork, but that’s all.
“On the second day, after Dr. Anderson’s equipment ran out of battery power, he finally went and found the breakers. At the same time, we started our tour of the morgue, but it too was uneventful.
“With the house now having power, there was no need for the flashlights. The house was much more intricately decorated than we thought, but that fascination soon gave way to boredom. However, at breakfast, Dr. Anderson, seemingly out of frustration, kept kicking the legs of the table, causing glasses to spill and claiming it was something else. We asked him to stop, but he would not. He continued until everyone’s breakfast was ruined.
“On the third day, Amy, the purported medium, left. I think she had a fight with Dr. Anderson because she felt he was a fraud. That was also the day we found out that Dr. Fletcher was actually Dr. Guild. He left as well, possibly fearing the law would catch up with him.
“On the last day, Anderson offered a substantial bribe to Jessie and me. I think Jessie took the money, so I would be careful about what she might tell you. In addition, he rented the property for five days, but since no one was willing to stay, he called it off.
“Now I assume Jessie took the bribe, because Anderson destroyed all the equipment. I think he wanted it to look like there was a haunting, when really it’s just a Halloween attraction.
“Finally, to my own detriment, I have been having an ongoing affair with Dr. Anderson since I was hired. It’s not an affair I wanted, but I felt powerless in my situation. I believe the only reason he hired me was because I would sleep with him. I am sick and tired of this and I intend to file a lawsuit against this university. I am sure you can guess why.”
The dean stopped the tape and looked at Anderson. “Do you care to explain yourself, Profess
or?”
Anderson had a burning sensation is in head. He covered his face with both hands. “She’s lying. Reindeer Manor is haunted.” Without another word, he stood and walked to the door.
The dean warned him, “If you’re thinking of firing her, you’d better think twice. However, if these allegations of sexual misconduct are true, I won’t just terminate you, I will spare no expense to discredit your entire life.”
Anderson left the room without saying anything else.
One of the council members looked at the dean. “That is not the Dr. Anderson we know. Something is wrong with that man. I think you better get Dr. Weinstein to speak with him before he does something drastic!”
Anderson did not even acknowledge Mary as he walked back into the office. He simply sat behind his desk and stared at the wall.
A few moments later, Dr. Weinstein walked in. “Professor, the dean wanted me to speak with you. Are you all right?”
Anderson looked at him with tears streaming down his face. “I went to that haunted house. It’s real, Albert! I saw it all; it is haunted!”
Weinstein knew of the project and how much time Anderson had put into it over the past five months. “I think you may need to take a sabbatical. Your stress level seems to be off the charts.”
Anderson looked at him. “What can say? I was there!” Suddenly he remembered that Weinstein had investigated Reindeer Manor years ago. “Didn’t you investigate that place?”
“Yes, but not in a serious way. It was a novelty thing.”
“I don’t care. What did you find?”
“We used very crude devices, just stuff lying around the electronics lab and such. We detected magnetic disturbances and temperature variations, but nothing substantial.”
“How long did you stay?”
“We were only there for the afternoon. We made a small donation to the Boy Scout troop that ran it at the time and they gave us a tour.”
Anderson sat back. “So you saw the chapel.”
Weinstein thought about it. “I don’t remember there being a chapel. I remember being shown where the dining room was and where the original entrance was, but we were told that some parts of the house were sealed off.
“What about the second floor?”
“No, we weren’t allowed to go up there.”
Anderson grew tired of thinking and his vision was becoming blurred. “Can we talk about something else?”
Weinstein chuckled. “Of course, what would you like to discuss?”
“Tell me about the project you’re on now.”
Weinstein shifted in his seat. This won’t go well, he thought. “Well, to be honest, I’ve been investigating a haunting of my own; I’m not sure you want to discuss it, though.”
A seed of jealousy began growing inside Anderson. He felt cheated, as if he had been led astray. “Yes, I would like to discuss it, please. Tell me about it.”
Weinstein sat up. “Well, the name of the property is the Davis House—” He waited for a response, but got none, so he continued. “From the research done, the house and land were bought just before the suburb of Mesquite was founded. The owner leased the property to a family that moved from South Carolina. Unfortunately, during a horrid ice storm, that family perished in a fire, except for the husband, who was—” Weinstein paused again.
Anderson just looked at him. “Was what?”
Weinstein shook his head. “Don’t you remember the Davis House? It was the first house you investigated.”
Anderson shook his head.
“The Davis House, also known as Foxwood, number one in your book, Texas Hauntings.”
Anderson shook his head.
Weinstein sat back in his seat, deeply concerned. It would have been one thing if he forgot one of his hauntings, but the first— the one that ignited his passion for the paranormal?
Anderson looked off into space. “I saw orbs.”
Weinstein smiled. “You actually saw orbs?”
“Saw them, touched them, danced with them. It was so real, so perfect. I saw the inner light and how its color shifted, ever so slightly.”
Weinstein was growing more concerned by the moment. Whatever was bothering his colleague was powerful. “I recommend you check into the hospital.”
Anderson looked at him. “I went down to the computer science lab today, and it was as if the project never existed.” He closed his eyes and sighed, “You know, Amy sat right there and told me I would be dancing with the devil on this one, and in the end, that’s what I did: I danced with the orbs as the shadows watched.”
Weinstein sighed. “I want to take you to Parkland. Would that be ok?”
Anderson looked away. “I can’t leave.”
“Why not?”
Anderson could not rationalize why he could not leave; he just knew that he had to stay. “I’m going to be ok; I just need to stay here.”
Weinstein looked at his watch. “I’ll check in on you later. Get something to eat.”
Anderson nodded as the man left. For hours he sat in his chair, pondering what he should do now. Several hours later, Anderson was still staring at the wall as he heard the tumblers in the door click.
The door slowly creaked open.
He looked up and saw Mary pointing a gun at him. “Tell me one more time, are you going to leave your wife for me now?”
He looked at her with no expression. “No.”
He saw a tiny little flash, and then he saw no more.
Far out past the parking lot, where the football team conducted practices, a faint pop was heard. As the sound traveled across the parking lot, echoing off a tree line in the distance, the players stopped to take notice.
The air became stale and lifeless. The wasps in the distance calmed themselves and returned to their nests. The ants and spiders resumed their work. The players looked at each other and then as the second pop was heard, there was no denying that it was gunfire.
Campus police found the bodies moments later.
On Monday, Andy returned to the manor. His face and arms were tanned to a golden brown from his vacation. He was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, white shorts, and sandals. He parked his van just outside the iron gate of Reindeer Manor. As he walked up, he peeked inside the snack bar. Everything had been cleaned up and put away. He was quite impressed.
As he entered the manor, nothing had changed since he had left. The house looked to be in good condition, at least until he stepped into the dining room. “Damn,” he said as he looked at the framing, “why did they take down the drywall?!”
He toured the rest of the first floor and then nailed the door to the chapel shut once more. Afterwards, he ascended the stairs and walked through the rooms. Everything seemed to be order until he opened the door to the last room…
On Tuesday, Dean Shulz read about the murders at Reindeer Manor. Now, he did not know what to believe.
And the haunting continues…
Teaser for Part 2 of
“The Haunted Houses of Anderson”
The Chronicles of Foxwood
Forward from Dr. Weinstein
To his horror, it was 11:00 a.m. He quickly checked his email and was delighted to already have a confirmation with the council, but it was in three hours. He had to get to the university quickly and begin compiling a preliminary report.
He dressed hurriedly and ran out the door. As he was driving, he thought, What an odd sensation. I know I’m driving, but it feels as if I am also a passenger. After a few moments, his brain began to catch up with his body. He began thinking more clearly, but all the same, something just did not feel right.
He pulled into the parking lot and parked in his spot. He took a deep breath, wondering what the day would bring him. The more time passed, the more anxious he became. He shook off the feeling as best he could, trying to maintain his composure. Though he felt like a giddy school girl, it was not appropriate to display it.
As he walked into the building, a sudden sense of dread came over him, but he rationalized that it was his nerves. He shook his head, then proceeded to his office.
As he entered, Mary smiled at him. “Good morning Dr. Anderson.”
He wanted to yank her out of that seat and throw her out of his office. He felt his mouth beginning to form the words, “Screw off, whore,” but he fought them intensely. He felt anger building in him, but could not rationalize why. He had to fight his own jaw to say, “Good morning Mary.”
As he passed by, she followed him with her eyes. A sadistic smile came across her face as Anderson walked into his office.
Inside, he found everything just as he had left it. His book, the letter, the newspaper--there was nothing out of place. He quickly sat down and pulled up the files to the haunting, but nothing was there. A sinking feeling came over him and he dashed out of the office. As he walked down the hallway, he felt his blood pressure going up. His left eye began to tick as thoughts of failure filled his mind.
He burst through the doors of the computer science lab. As he entered, he ran past row after row of students, all hogging the computers. Finally, he found an open terminal. He sat down, typed in his password, and logged in. There before him were his files. He swallowed nervously as he opened them, one by one, until he came to ‘Projects’. He clicked on it, but the screen came up empty.
Sweat began pouring down his brow as his anger grew. He began to shake as he searched and searched, but he only found classroom records. The rest of his files were gone. Suddenly he vomited all over the floor.
A young student with a full beard and a gold tooth, covered in tattoos, ran up. “Professor, are you all right?”
Anderson sat back. He felt his head was in a vise. “Um…maybe, um…I can’t find my files. Can you look?”
The young man checked the data, but there was no data to be found. Anderson was sweating profusely. “Um…there was some equipment brought in last night. Could you hook it up for me?”
The young man shook his head. “That equipment was trashed. I hate to say it, but it left with the recycler over an hour ago.”
Anderson closed his eyes and nodded. He then stood and walked from the lab in a daze. The young man called for janitor to clean up the mess.
As he walked back to his office, Anderson couldn’t believe there was no data. He began going over every little detail in his head, even as his headache grew in intensity.
Mary watched as Anderson slowly walked back into the office. “Oh God, you’re a mess! How can I help?”
Anderson looked at her. “You have to tell them the truth. You have to tell them the haunting was real.”
She looked at him, “Of course I will. You just need to relax.”
She watched him slowly walk into his office. He looked so broken. As the door closed, she laughed, “Oh, I’ll tell them all right!” She called down to the dean and asked to make a taped confession. He agreed and invited her down.
Anderson sat in his chair and stared at the wall. His mind was slowly breaking; the realization of failure was too much to bear.
At 2:05 p.m., Anderson’s phone rang. He reached over and picked it up. “Hello?”
“Dr. Anderson, you asked to present your preliminary findings to the board this afternoon and we’re waiting for you. Will you please come to the general conference room?”
He hung up the phone and walked out of his office. He looked at Mary. “It’s time to go.”
She looked at him and smiled. “I’ve already had my turn, but they’re waiting on you.”
Anderson walked out of the office like a corpse. Mary could not help laughing after he was gone.
As Anderson sat down, the council stared at him with great disappointment. Anderson sighed, “There has been a glitch. My data is temporarily unavailable.”
Dean Shultz shook his head. “I don’t think your data will be necessary. We want you to listen to this.”
The dean turned on a tape recorder.
“Will you state your name for the record?”
“Mary Renee Simms.”
“Thank you, Miss Simms, and for the record, what is your position with the university?”
“I’m the secretary for Dr. Jonathon Anderson.”
“Again, thank you. What was your role in this investigation?”
“I was a general assistant to Dr. Anderson.”
“Very good, now getting right down to it, please tell the council your view of the investigation.”
“Well, it started off with a long car ride to Reindeer Manor. Once we got there, we discovered the property had no power. However, instead of searching for the breakers, Dr. Anderson insisted that we begin the investigation. He led us through Reindeer Manor, using one flashlight and our cell phones as light.
“The house was quite spooky, but given that we were walking around a strange building in the dark, that’s not unusual. So we toured the house and found it was quite old with some very nice artwork, but that’s all.
“On the second day, after Dr. Anderson’s equipment ran out of battery power, he finally went and found the breakers. At the same time, we started our tour of the morgue, but it too was uneventful.
“With the house now having power, there was no need for the flashlights. The house was much more intricately decorated than we thought, but that fascination soon gave way to boredom. However, at breakfast, Dr. Anderson, seemingly out of frustration, kept kicking the legs of the table, causing glasses to spill and claiming it was something else. We asked him to stop, but he would not. He continued until everyone’s breakfast was ruined.
“On the third day, Amy, the purported medium, left. I think she had a fight with Dr. Anderson because she felt he was a fraud. That was also the day we found out that Dr. Fletcher was actually Dr. Guild. He left as well, possibly fearing the law would catch up with him.
“On the last day, Anderson offered a substantial bribe to Jessie and me. I think Jessie took the money, so I would be careful about what she might tell you. In addition, he rented the property for five days, but since no one was willing to stay, he called it off.
“Now I assume Jessie took the bribe, because Anderson destroyed all the equipment. I think he wanted it to look like there was a haunting, when really it’s just a Halloween attraction.
“Finally, to my own detriment, I have been having an ongoing affair with Dr. Anderson since I was hired. It’s not an affair I wanted, but I felt powerless in my situation. I believe the only reason he hired me was because I would sleep with him. I am sick and tired of this and I intend to file a lawsuit against this university. I am sure you can guess why.”
The dean stopped the tape and looked at Anderson. “Do you care to explain yourself, Profess
Anderson had a burning sensation is in head. He covered his face with both hands. “She’s lying. Reindeer Manor is haunted.” Without another word, he stood and walked to the door.
The dean warned him, “If you’re thinking of firing her, you’d better think twice. However, if these allegations of sexual misconduct are true, I won’t just terminate you, I will spare no expense to discredit your entire life.”
Anderson left the room without saying anything else.
One of the council members looked at the dean. “That is not the Dr. Anderson we know. Something is wrong with that man. I think you better get Dr. Weinstein to speak with him before he does something drastic!”
Anderson did not even acknowledge Mary as he walked back into the office. He simply sat behind his desk and stared at the wall.
A few moments later, Dr. Weinstein walked in. “Professor, the dean wanted me to speak with you. Are you all right?”
Anderson looked at him with tears streaming down his face. “I went to that haunted house. It’s real, Albert! I saw it all; it is haunted!”
Weinstein knew of the project and how much time Anderson had put into it over the past five months. “I think you may need to take a sabbatical. Your stress level seems to be off the charts.”
Anderson looked at him. “What can say? I was there!” Suddenly he remembered that Weinstein had investigated Reindeer Manor years ago. “Didn’t you investigate that place?”
“Yes, but not in a serious way. It was a novelty thing.”
“I don’t care. What did you find?”
“We used very crude devices, just stuff lying around the electronics lab and such. We detected magnetic disturbances and temperature variations, but nothing substantial.”
“How long did you stay?”
“We were only there for the afternoon. We made a small donation to the Boy Scout troop that ran it at the time and they gave us a tour.”
Anderson sat back. “So you saw the chapel.”
Weinstein thought about it. “I don’t remember there being a chapel. I remember being shown where the dining room was and where the original entrance was, but we were told that some parts of the house were sealed off.
“What about the second floor?”
“No, we weren’t allowed to go up there.”
Anderson grew tired of thinking and his vision was becoming blurred. “Can we talk about something else?”
Weinstein chuckled. “Of course, what would you like to discuss?”
“Tell me about the project you’re on now.”
Weinstein shifted in his seat. This won’t go well, he thought. “Well, to be honest, I’ve been investigating a haunting of my own; I’m not sure you want to discuss it, though.”
A seed of jealousy began growing inside Anderson. He felt cheated, as if he had been led astray. “Yes, I would like to discuss it, please. Tell me about it.”
Weinstein sat up. “Well, the name of the property is the Davis House—” He waited for a response, but got none, so he continued. “From the research done, the house and land were bought just before the suburb of Mesquite was founded. The owner leased the property to a family that moved from South Carolina. Unfortunately, during a horrid ice storm, that family perished in a fire, except for the husband, who was—” Weinstein paused again.
Anderson just looked at him. “Was what?”
Weinstein shook his head. “Don’t you remember the Davis House? It was the first house you investigated.”
Anderson shook his head.
“The Davis House, also known as Foxwood, number one in your book, Texas Hauntings.”
Anderson shook his head.
Weinstein sat back in his seat, deeply concerned. It would have been one thing if he forgot one of his hauntings, but the first— the one that ignited his passion for the paranormal?
Anderson looked off into space. “I saw orbs.”
Weinstein smiled. “You actually saw orbs?”
“Saw them, touched them, danced with them. It was so real, so perfect. I saw the inner light and how its color shifted, ever so slightly.”
Weinstein was growing more concerned by the moment. Whatever was bothering his colleague was powerful. “I recommend you check into the hospital.”
Anderson looked at him. “I went down to the computer science lab today, and it was as if the project never existed.” He closed his eyes and sighed, “You know, Amy sat right there and told me I would be dancing with the devil on this one, and in the end, that’s what I did: I danced with the orbs as the shadows watched.”
Weinstein sighed. “I want to take you to Parkland. Would that be ok?”
Anderson looked away. “I can’t leave.”
“Why not?”
Anderson could not rationalize why he could not leave; he just knew that he had to stay. “I’m going to be ok; I just need to stay here.”
Weinstein looked at his watch. “I’ll check in on you later. Get something to eat.”
Anderson nodded as the man left. For hours he sat in his chair, pondering what he should do now. Several hours later, Anderson was still staring at the wall as he heard the tumblers in the door click.
The door slowly creaked open.
He looked up and saw Mary pointing a gun at him. “Tell me one more time, are you going to leave your wife for me now?”
He looked at her with no expression. “No.”
He saw a tiny little flash, and then he saw no more.
Far out past the parking lot, where the football team conducted practices, a faint pop was heard. As the sound traveled across the parking lot, echoing off a tree line in the distance, the players stopped to take notice.
The air became stale and lifeless. The wasps in the distance calmed themselves and returned to their nests. The ants and spiders resumed their work. The players looked at each other and then as the second pop was heard, there was no denying that it was gunfire.
Campus police found the bodies moments later.
On Monday, Andy returned to the manor. His face and arms were tanned to a golden brown from his vacation. He was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, white shorts, and sandals. He parked his van just outside the iron gate of Reindeer Manor. As he walked up, he peeked inside the snack bar. Everything had been cleaned up and put away. He was quite impressed.
As he entered the manor, nothing had changed since he had left. The house looked to be in good condition, at least until he stepped into the dining room. “Damn,” he said as he looked at the framing, “why did they take down the drywall?!”
He toured the rest of the first floor and then nailed the door to the chapel shut once more. Afterwards, he ascended the stairs and walked through the rooms. Everything seemed to be order until he opened the door to the last room…
On Tuesday, Dean Shulz read about the murders at Reindeer Manor. Now, he did not know what to believe.
And the haunting continues…
Teaser for Part 2 of
“The Haunted Houses of Anderson”
The Chronicles of Foxwood
Forward from Dr. Weinstein