Short Story
                                            The Unwanted
                                                                    By Ernest Roberson Sr.


    It was October 31, 1995, on a Friday night. The moon was full in the cloudless sky above Denton, North
Carolina, and the night was foggy and cool. The Anderson children, Jack, Rob, and Jill were getting ready
to go out to the movies when the phone rang. Jack was 18, Rob was 16, and Jill was 15. Jill answered the
phone on the fifth ring.

    “Hello, yes hold on one minute while I get him.”

    “Jack, Jack phone!”

    “Alright, I’ll get it in my room,” Jack said.

    Jill listened until Jack said hello, then she hung up.

    “Go where?” Jack asked.

    “Mom and dad said to the movies and nowhere else. Who is this?”

    Jack hung up the phone, to see Rob looking at him.

    “What?” Jack asked.

    “Nothing bro. Who was that?”

    “I don’t know Rob, they never said.”

    “Where did they want you to go?”

    “To the old Johnson place.”

    “Isn’t it haunted?”

    “No, it’s about to fall down though.”

    The three finished dressing and headed for the front door when the ringing of the phone stopped them
in their steps.

    “I’ll get it,” Jack said.

    “Hello. We’re leaving now. Love you all too. Alright, bye.”

    “Who was that?”

    “It was Mom and Dad, Rob. They’re in San Francisco, and they’ll be home tomorrow night.

    Are we ready now?”

    “Yes,” Jill said.

    “Good let’s go,” Jack said.

    Rob opened the front door and the three went outside onto the porch, as Jack locked and closed the
door.  The phone rang, but it was ignored and unanswered as the three got into the car. Jack started the
engine and turned on the heater, then pulled the car out of the driveway onto Highway 47, then went
forward. They had traveled seven miles when Jack mashed the brakes and stopped in the road.

    “What’s wrong Jack?” Jill asked.

    “I’m going up to the Johnson’s old house.”

    Jack turned left onto a dirt road which was a quarter of a mile long. Jack turned the engine off and left
the headlights on low beam.

    “This it?”

    “Yes Rob, we’re here,” Jack said, getting out of the car.

    “You coming, Rob?”

    “Why not, it doesn’t look too scary,” Rob said, getting out.

    “I’m staying here,” Jill said.

    “Alright then Jill.” Her brothers replied.


    Jack walked onto the porch and went in through the front wooden door, as Rob looked around outside
in the foggy night. Rob looked upward at the two-story house to see a candle burning in the window facing
the highway.

    “That wasn’t there a minute ago.”

    “Jack, Jack,” Rob said, running onto the porch and into the house.

    “Jack, where are you? Jack, come on now, quit playing around.”

    Rob searched the wall for a light switch. After fumbling around, and falling once he found a switch and
flicked it on.

    “Wow, this place looks new in here and old out there. I thought that Jack said it was about to fall in. in
fact he did. Jack where you at?” Rob asked, walking to the middle of the room, he stopped and was


    Jack’s body fell limp onto the hardwood floor at Rob’s feet.

    “What th…….”

    Rob saw blood surrounding Jack’s body and turned towards the front door as an ax greeted him in his


    Jill sat motionless in the car waiting for her brothers, as the car began sinking into the ground. She didn’
t say anything at all, but her scream would be her last sound……that she’d make alive. She never called
for her brothers as the car was swallowed up by the earth. It didn’t leave a hole or any kind of crater within
the ground which the car had set on. The headlights went out, as did the candle, and the front door shut
back closed.  


    The house disposed of Rob’s and Jack’s bodies as if the house ate them through the newly varnished,
waxed hardwood floors. And started back fixing itself on the inside, and outside now.


    The Johnson house made no more improvements on itself as the sun rose in the eastern sky. At six Bill
and Kathy packed their belongings in their hotel room to board the 8:00 flight at the airport to Winston-
Salem, North Carolina, 2,757 miles away. When they arrived there at 8 pm, they’d get their baggage and
put it in their new shiny red, white interior BMW, then they would drive fifty miles south to Denton, North
Carolina. But first they had to board the flight out of San Francisco.


    Bill and Kathy boarded the plane at the airport at 7:50, and found their first class seats, then waited for
ten minutes for the plane to take off for the non-stop flight to Winston-Salem, N.C. The two had talked
about the seven-day vacation, and the pictures they’d taken for the kids to see. Bill had gotten a football
autographed from Steve Young, and one from Jerry Rice for Rob and Jack. Kathy got Jill some clothes
when she went shopping. The pilot had come on the speaker phone and told the passengers to buckle up,
and the stewardess would get them what they needed. Bill ordered a glass of wine, which he drunk quickly
to help him relax, as the plane began to move from gate three, then onto the runway and into the skies of


    The plane averaged two hundred twelve miles an hour. So Bill figured that Kathy and he would be in
Winston-Salem in twelve hours, so it would be 8 pm when they’d land at the airport. Then they’d drive on I-
40 and take exit 87 onto highway 47 southeast into Denton, fifty miles away, so they’d make it home about
nine fifteen.


    “You know Bill, maybe we should’ve called before we left San Fran.”

    “Why Kathy?”

    “To tell the kids that we’re on our way.”

    “It’ll be alright, we’ll call them in Winston-Salem.”

    “Alright then,” Kathy said.

    “Do you feel that something’s wrong Kathy?”

    “I don’t know Bill.”

    “Well, we’ve been away for a week you know.”

    “I miss them too.”

    “Maybe that’s all it is Bill.”

    “What’s that?”

    “I miss them because we’ve never been away from our kids for this long.”

    “Jack’s a man now, and soon Rob will be one.”

    “I know,” Bill said, placing his hand on Kathy’s right leg smiling.


    The plane landed at 8:03 in Winston-Salem, N.C., as the squealing tires on the runway, woke Bill and
Kathy from their sleep.

    “We’re here Bill. We’re back in our home state.”

    “We slept almost the whole flight.”

    “I know Bill. You get our baggage and I’ll call the kids at home.”

    Bill agreed nodding his head with a grin, as the plane rolled into gate ten to unload.


    Bill waited on their baggage to come around on the circling conveyor belt, as Kathy was on the cell
phone calling home. Bill had picked up their baggage and headed towards Kathy who was still on the
phone, without talking.

    “Are they there?”

    “There’s no answer yet Bill,” Kathy said, with the phone still up to her ear.

    “Maybe they’re dead to the world.”

    “Maybe you’re right Bill,” Kathy said, pressing end on the phone.

    Bill grabbed the baggage back up and followed closely behind Kathy as she led the way into the
parking lot. Bill unlocked the two-door BMW and Kathy got in and shut her door, as Bill went behind the car
to unlock the trunk and put their baggage in. Bill shut the trunk back to and got into the car himself; then
started the engine.

    “It’s cold out there. Ah, come on Kathy cheer up, nothing’s wrong. Think positive anyways.” Bill said,
putting the car in drive heading for I-40.  


    Not a word was said between Bill and Kathy. The radio played County music the whole fifty miles to
Denton until Bill shut the engine off in the driveway of their home. Kathy got out, followed by Bill, and he
unlocked the door.

    “Jack!, Rob!, Jill!” Kathy called out, as she was going up the staircase.

    Kathy opened Jill’s bedroom door and turned on the light to see her bed was made, then went to Rob’s
room and done the same thing, to only see the same result. Then she went into Jack’s room to only get an
empty room just like the others.

    “Bill, they’re not here,” Kathy said as she ran back down the staircase.


    “I just checked the garage. The car’s gone too Kathy.”

    “Where could they be at nine fifteen at night Bill?”

    “How do I know? Was I here when they left the house?”


    “Just calm down Kathy, you’re worrying yourself to bad.”

    Kathy sat down on the brown loveseat.

    “Maybe we should call someone Bill.”

    “Who? Where would we start?”

    “The police, that’s who Bill.”

    Bill walked over to the phone, grabbed for it, and it rang.

    “Shit, that scared me,” Bill said, reaching for the phone to answer it.

    Kathy got up and walked towards Bill on the phone.

    “No, he’s not here. Have you seen them? Hello, hello………”

    “Who was that Bill?”

    “I don’t know, but whoever it was they asked for Jack.”

    “Have they seen them?”

    “Whoever only laughed at me, then hung up,” Bill said, hanging the phone up.

    “Go upstairs and check Jack’s caller I.D.”

    Kathy went upstairs and came back quickly.

    “What do you have?”

    “Two numbers.”

    “What are they?”

    “555-1300 and 555-0666.”

    “I’ll try the first one first.”

    Bill dialed the number, he heard a girl answer.

    “Who is this?”


    “Have you seen Jack and them?”

    “Alright then, thank you,” Bill said, hanging up the phone.


    “Nothing there. Now let me try the other number.” Bill said, picking up the phone to dial the numbers.


    Bill hung up the phone then looked at Kathy.

    “Nothing. It rang and rang, but no one answered.”

    “Who could that number belong to Bill?”

    “I don’t know. But I’m going to call the police on out here.” Bill said as he was dialing 911.


    Within 15 minutes after Bill called the police, they arrived at the Anderson’s residents. Blue lights
flashed on and off of the white two-story house in the yard. Bill walked out of the house and Kathy followed


    “Hey there,” Bill said.

    “So your kids are missing along with the car.”

    “Yes, sir.”

    The policeman got out his pad book and began writing the description of the kids, the car, and the Tag
number. Then the other officer took the book and read it out over the C.B. radio.

    “Well Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, we’ve done probably all that we can do until morning, or until we see
them.” The driver said, handing Bill a business card.

    Bill put it into his left khaki pants pocket and shook the officer’s hand.


    The Johnson house had rebuilt itself inside and out. Even the white picket fence was new, standing
around the house and down the quarter mile lane. All of the lights were on under the full moon. The moon
made the four granite graves reflect under the large live oak tree in the front yard which was new also.


    “Look there Greg!”


    Greg slammed on breaks on highway 47 and looked left to see what James had seen.

    “Nobody lives up there,” Greg said.

    “They must do with all them lights on.”

    “Carol, this is car four.”

    “Yes, car four.”

    “Does anyone live in the old Johnson house?”

    “That’s a negative, why?” Carol asked.

    “All the lights are on and it looks remodeled.”

    “No shit, because someone bought the house for the lumber a year ago.”

    “What’s their name?”

    “Ernie and Aimee Robinson,” Carol replied.

    “Where going to check it out anyways.”


    Greg drove up the gravel road, into the yard.

    “Wow! James said, amazed.”

    Greg and James got out, walked through the picket wooden gate and onto the porch towards the front
door. The only noise was Carol talking to another policeman on the radio. Greg and James stood on the
porch and as James begun to knock on the door it opened.


    James went inside with his 9mm in his right hand, and Greg went around the house. James walked into
the living room and began to sink as if it was quicksand. James fired the 9mm gun into the ceiling and
wall, to only see the holes close up, now that he was waste deep.

    “Help me, Greg!”

    Greg stood on the porch and seen James sinking within the floor. The floor had quit pulling James
under and began tightened on his body. Greg heard James backbone break, then seen the floor tighten,
so tight that it cut his body into. Greg ran for the car, got in; put it in reverse, and hit a granite headstone.
He sped down the gravel driveway, as the floor opened back up and consumed the top half of James’


    On highway 47, Greg radioed Carol and drove towards the Andersons.

    “Do what Greg?”

    “Believe me, Carol, the house is alive, I believe that’s where the Anderson kids were when they went

    “Greg, Halloween is over so quit playing around.”

    “Damn it, Carol, I’m not playing, believe me. I’ll be pulling into the Anderson’s drive shortly.”


    Greg knocked heavily on the solid oak door of the Anderson’s house. Bill was in his robe when he
opened the door to see Greg Newman. Greg entered the house breathing heavy.

    “What did you do race James back here?” Bill said, closing the door.

    “No, I……….I didn’t Bill.”

    “Well sit down and catch your breath, then we’ll talk.”

    Greg sat down on the brown loveseat, as Bill sat on the matching couch which faced the love seat.


    Greg told Bill about the Johnson house and James. He also told Bill that he suspected that Jack, Rob,
and Jill had disappeared the same way.

    “But if so where’s the car, Greg?”

    “I don’t know Bill. Please believe me though.”

    “Alright Greg, but do me a favor and stay the night here. And in the morning we’ll go together to the
Johnson house.”

    Greg agreed. Bill went back to his bedroom and Greg fell asleep on the love seat.


    Kathy got up at 6:00 and cooked breakfast for Bill and Greg, which got up at 7:00. Bill finished eating
and went to get dressed. Bill and Greg road out at 7:30 going towards the Johnson house on highway 47,
westward. Greg stopped on the shoulder of the road before going up the gravel driveway, as the sun
began to peak on Denton, N.C.


    Greg and Bill pulled into the yard surrounded by the new white picket fence. The two men got out of the
police car and looked at the four headstones under the large live oak tree. They walked over to them and
seen the tracks of Greg’s car.

    “That’s funny.”

    “What’s that, Greg?”

    “I hit this headstone last night hard enough to bust it, but it’s not even chipped. See my bumper is

    “You’re right Greg,” Bill said reading off the names that were on the headstones.     “Renee Johnson,
John Johnson, Sue Johnson, and Winslow Johnson. Do they mean anything to you, Greg?”

    “Nothing Bill. Let me call for backup, and a photographer before we go too far, Bill.” Greg said, walking
back towards the car as Bill followed.

    “Car four to dispatch.”

    “Yes, car four.”

    “That you Marvin?”

    “Sure is.”

    “Can you send a patrol car out to the old Johnson place along with a photographer?”

    “Aren’t you off duty car four?”

    “No, I’m investigating a crime.”

    “Alright then.”

    Greg got off the radio and heard Marvin calling his backup.


    The backup arrived thirty minutes later with the photographer. They pulled in behind Greg’s car. The two
officers and the photographer got out.

    “Hey there Roy and Jim.”

    “What’s wrong here Greg?”

    “Well, one murder for sure, and three pending.”

    “Who restored this house?”

    “I don’t know Roy. Come and look at this.” Greg said, walking towards the headstones.

    “See my tracks here?”

    “Yes did you hit the headstone?”

    “Yes see my bumper. It’s bent, but there’s no crack nor a chip gone from the headstone.”

    The photographer raised his camera up, then dropped it onto the ground as he stood motionless.

    “What’s wrong with you man?” Greg asked as Bill picked the camera up.

    “You look into the camera and you will see.”

    Bill looked at the four graves to see that they were old, black top, and the grass was all grown up
around them in black and white.


    Greg, Roy, and Jim all looked through the camera to see the place old, grown up by weeds and
deserted in black and white.

    “Now that’s amazing,” Greg said.

    The front door opened on its own. Jim and Roy pulled their 9mm from their holsters and aimed them at
the door. The five men walked towards the house.

    “Let’s just burn the damn house,” Greg said.

    “That could be a good idea if it wasn’t for the Johnson’s.” Roy said.

    “You know something about them Roy,” Bill asked.

    “Yes.” He said as the five stopped at the steps.

    “They were murdered in cold blood,” Roy replied.

    “By who?” Bill asked.

    “By Joe, Paul, and Grady Anderson.”

    “You know them, Bill?” Greg asked.

    Bill shook his head in disbelief.

    “Yes, I know them. Joe was my father, Paul and Grady were my half brothers. They too disappeared as
my children have.”


    “So only you can stop this Bill,” Greg said.   

    “Why me?”

    “Because it was your blood that killed the Johnson’s.”

    “Well, what about James? Why did he die inside of the house?”

    “Funny that you should ask Bill.”

    “He was your brother, the only other sibling that you had, but he was adopted and that’s why you never
knew him. You and James were the only two kids Joe and Georgia had, which she got killed in front of this
house on 47 by a log truck. Isn’t that right Bill?”

    “Yes, it is Roy.”

    “So why don’t you go inside and try to calm down the souls of the Johnson’s?”

    “Would it be worth it Roy?”

    “It’s worth a try you know. Because they could kill you right here if they chose to.”


    Kathy drove up into the drive as Bill started up the steps of the porch. She blew the horn to get Bill’s
attention. He looked at her as she ran to him. Kathy’s BMW sank into the ground and the land renewed
itself afterward as Bill and Kathy stood embracing each other on the steps. Greg, Roy, Jim, and the
photographer went towards the police cars, then got in and began to ride off. The front door opened all the
way as a ball of fire came out catching Bill and Kathy on fire as they embraced each other. Then another
ball of fire came bursting out of the opened door, landing behind Greg’s police car. Greg pressed the gas
pedal as he went down the gravel lane onto 47 West with fire on his trunk that finally the wind blew out.


    Bill and Kathy burnt to death; their skin had popped and put off a stench odor. As their skin melted from
their bones, the ground opened and consumed the remains of their burnt bodies. Then the restored house
caught on fire, as did the picket fence and burnt to the ground. The graves remained covered with a
granite slab and headstones. The ground opened and buried the remains of the burnt Johnson house;
beside the four graves were six black top graves, where the Anderson’s were now buried along with the
Johnson’s, under the large live oak tree.


    The land was leveled; as green grass and flowers began to grow. A new house was soon to be built
where the Johnson’s house once stood in Denton, N.C.

                                                                            THE END
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About Ernest Roberson Sr.