Evergreen Magazine

Evergreen Magazine

Evergreen Magazine

The Tale of Macabre Lane

Mikel Ibarluzea

           “We should go to Macabre Lane!” my friend Carson squealed, plopping down on my sofa causing my bowl of butter popcorn to jump out onto the ground.

           I frowned with confusion, what was Macabre Lane? But I was embarrassed I didn’t know so I kept the thought to myself.  

           Maggie piped up, “Carson that place is creepy,” she said as she reached for a bottle of shiny polish the color of blood. She applied a thick coat onto her nails. I was intrigued so I worked up the courage to make the big ask. 

           “What is Macabre Lane?” I finally blurted biting my lip. 

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           “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT MACABRE LANE IS?!” Carson yelled as I winced back from her loud voice. 

           “Carson chill out,” Maggie said. She paused painting her nails to look at me. “Spencer, it is some old creepy house a family died in. Not really any good and there’s mold.” 

           Carson huffed irritated at Maggie but then turned to me excitedly. “It is not just some creepy old house. It is a haunted house, and the old legend goes that if anyone enters the house, they will never walk out.” 

           Maggie snorted and said, “Yeah right. Sounds like you found that off the internet.” 

           I frowned and asked Carson, “So how do you know they saw crazy things when no one has ever come back?” 

           Carson’s blonde braids bounced on her shoulders as she said, “A long time ago one person escaped and was the one to tell the tale of Macabre Lane.” 

           “If anything, that sounds pretty sketchy and not very reliable to me,” I told Carson while opening a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips after Maggie took my popcorn. I popped a chip into my mouth and the bitter taste made my mouth pucker. 

           “Look, I think we should go,” Maggie said, blowing on her nails to dry as she darted her dark cobalt blue eyes to Carson and me on the sofa. 

           “Says the one who claims it’s some creepy house,” I muttered. 

           “I heard that,” Maggie retorted with a glare making the three of us break out into laughter. 

            “Well, it is midnight, and the drive is like ten minutes away,” Carson commented. 

           “Fine,” I huffed giving in to Carson’s weird obsession with the house. 

           I braided my dark brown curls while Carson got up and jumped around my living room. 

           “YAY!” Carson squealed. 

            Maggie scorned her for being childish, “Carson we are 16 not five.” 

           “I am driving!” I called out as I grabbed my keys, and they jingled in my hand. 

           When we walked out to my driveway, I saw the Chevy that my parents found at some ancient car show, and down the road a group of leaves danced with the wind in a small circle on the black asphalt. The chilly wind pulled strands of my hair into my face as I chewed on my bottom lip feeling uneasy. Maggie saw me nervously stand by the car and she walked over to me. 

           “Spencer, do not worry. Carson thinks all this haunted house crap is real when it really isn’t,” Maggie said assuring me. 

           I nodded and opened my truck door sliding into the worn-down leather seat. I started the engine and the truck sputtered to life. Once all my friends had climbed in, I backed out of the driveway onto the quiet street. I was driving carefully when Carson told me to turn left. 

           “Carson, you can’t turn left,” I said, looking around only to see trees surrounding us. The road was thin ahead and my dim headlights could not make out much besides the pure darkness around my dull lighting. 

           “You can,” Carson told me, and then she leaned over the seat to point out my window to the woods. 

           “Carson I am not-” She cut me off by turning the wheel harshly to the left. I slammed on the brakes hard enough to not hit a tree and my heart rate was pumping fast. We faced the woods towards a bare path leading to an old decaying cabin with a wooden mailbox on its last string, with the address of 33 Macabre Lane. I swallowed as my headlights shined to see the cabin as vines stuck to the sides. 

           “See?” Carson said with an innocent smile. 

           I glared at her as Maggie mumbled, “Okay then.” 

           I drove down the bare dirt path that looked untouched, stopping a little way from the cabin. I cut the engine of my truck, and we all hopped out with our flashlights. 

           “Carson, if you get us trapped out here, I am going to be so mad,” I warned Carson and shivered in my dull grey t-shirt and dark denim blue shorts. 

           “We’ll be fine, Spencer. Carson knows this stuff is not real. It is all in your head,” Maggie commented shrugging her bright pink hoodie. 

           “Hurry up, guys! I want to be scared,” Carson said rushing into the cabin. 

           Maggie and I stepped on the porch hearing the thin boards whine in protest as we pushed the rest of our weight onto the board. A putrid smell overwhelmed me like the lingering scent of mildew on the damp wooden floor. I wrinkled my nose trying not to revolt. 

           “Aw man, this place smells like it’s rotting,” I said in pure disgust. 

           Maggie said, “This place is a dump,” she paused to cough and then asked, “Why did Carson drag us here?” 

           A loud thumping noise came from inside of the cabin and my heart rate started to pound against my rib cage loudly. I squeezed Maggie’s hand praying it was Carson. Then Carson appeared with an immense grin and bright eyes. 

           “C’mon guys this place is so cool,” Carson chimed happily. 

           “Okay,” I said drawing in air to calm myself down.  

           We walked into the cabin, and it was empty as darkness hung over us. I shined my dull flashlight on the walls of the cabin to see mold-stained corners and peeling wallpaper that revealed the base of the cabin. The furniture was peeled to worn down pieces of scraps; the sofa was only left with a wooden backbone and exposed cushions. I swallowed as we turned down a dark hallway and a mirror stood at the end pointing towards us. All I could see was the darkness around the mirror. I felt very dizzy as the edges got fuzzy. 

           “Anyone feeling lightheaded?” I asked rubbing my head, nausea rolled over me in waves. When I turned to my friends,, I noticed that they were gone. My heart dropped into my gut as fear seeped into me like a sponge soaking up water.  

           “Guys! Stop messing around!” I yelled as I started looking for my friends. I then looked back at the mirror and saw something tall and black as night looming over me.  I turned to double check that it was only the wall and when I looked back at the mirror, I only saw the creature’s dark blood red eyes pour into mine as its mouth curved into a delving grin. I dashed to the door, but it slammed shut so hard that dust particles fell from the cabin’s roof. I tugged hard on the doorknob with all my strength, yet it was no use.  

           I went down the other hall shining my dull flashlight across the ground and heard the soft groan of the boards with the black slimy creature clinging to the wall crawling all the way to the ceiling. I started backing up and the figure was gone. I sprinted towards the outdated kitchen to a window above the sink. I tried to push open the window, but it was stuck to the seal like glue. Frantically, I looked around the kitchen searching for something and spotted a rock. I threw it at the window and the glass shattered into millions of tiny pieces onto the ground. 

           “SPENCER!” I heard Maggie’s voice scream out of nowhere. 

            I saw the figure drag her leg down the hall where the mirror was. I rushed over to her, and the figure had its back to me. I grabbed Maggie’s hand and tried to pull her towards me, though the figure’s strength was better than mine. Both of our palms were thick with sweat in this muggy cabin.  

           “Hold on,” I whispered to her. 

           The figure whipped around fast and loosened its grip on Maggie, so I pulled her so fast we fell back onto the ground. The figure inched closer leaving a trail of thick black goo. A strong foul smell arose, and I revolted back more and hit the wall. 

           “Spencer, what do we do?” Maggie asked with her tears looming down her cheek. 

           “I don’t know. Where is Carson?” I asked, terrified. 

           Then a loud clapping sound started, and we both frowned. It sounded like someone was clapping their hands together. The figure stopped very abruptly and turned, walking back into the mirror; the glass rippled like silvery water. Carson then ran down the other hallway yelling. 

           “Guys, I found a secret tunnel!” Carson yelled. 

           “You almost got us killed,” Maggie and I said in unison. 

           Carson saw the damaged cabin with black goo everywhere from where the creature crawled. Maggie and I were shaking from fear as Carson questioned us on the ride back to my house. The sun was barely rising as I parked my truck in the safety of my driveway. 

           We are never going in that cabin again,” I said firmly. 

           “We aren’t saying a single word about this either,” Maggie snapped harshly. 

           We both turned to Carson who nodded, now pale from our story.  

           “So where did it go?” Carson asked. 

           Maggie responded, “I don’t know but it’s gone for now.” 

           “We need to all pinkie-promise to never speak about last night at Macabre Lane and to never go there again,” I said as we all twisted our fingers around each other in agreement. 

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About the Contributor
Joee Serafin
Joee Serafin, Reporter
Joee Serafin is a sophomore in her first year of journalism. She loves to write and read. The reason she joined journalism was because she wanted to learn more about writing and be able to expand her ability to write with different topics. She also does Cross Country for Sequoyah.

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