The Bellefontaine Examiner is pulling back the “curtains” on its “Spooky Stories Contest” winners in today’s edition, Oct. 31.
Halloween has arrived, and tonight, ghosts and goblins young and old will enjoy gathering treats from door to door around Logan County for Beggar’s Night.
In that same eerie and fun spirit, the Bellefontaine Examiner hosted its first-ever Spooky Stories Contest this month, which brought out the creative writing talents for adults in the community with their spine-chilling submissions, some expounding upon local legends and others delving into new creative tales at local landmarks.
Submissions were required to use the word “curtains” somewhere in their piece and to incorporate a location in Logan County as well.
Grab a warm beverage in your favorite comfy chair, and enjoy cozying up to this year’s top two entries of the contest. (see below)
Wendy Bodey of DeGraff garnered first place with her spooky story set at the historic Holland Theatre, while Andrea Downing of Belle Center received honorable mention for her piece centered around the murderous tale of the Hatchet Man.
Who’s behind the curtains?
BY WENDY BODEY
I pushed aside the lacy curtains and looked at the crowd in the theatre below and thought about how I ended up in this room.
I had been enjoying a performance at the Holland Theatre and admiring the restored old building. The windmills that once again turned, the stars glowing in the ceiling, and the little houses with tulips in the flower boxes under their windows.
Then I saw a shadowy figure looking down from one of the windows. I knew it! When I had come to this theatre as a child, I would always ask about the little houses and if you could go inside them. However, my mom had always told me it was just a facade and there wasn’t really anything behind them. But now I saw someone inside and I was determined to finally get in there myself.
As the show ended, I made my way to the front of the theatre. When no one was looking, I snuck behind the plush red stage curtains. There was just a wall; however, I knew there must be a hidden access.
So I started feeling along the wall and suddenly, my hand disappeared into a small recessed area. I felt a switch and when I flipped it, a section of the wall recessed into itself just enough for me to squeeze inside. Then it slid back into place, leaving me in complete darkness. I turned on my cellphone flashlight and could see a narrow, steep staircase. It must lead up to the backside of the houses and windmills!
At the top of the stairs was a door. I opened it and stepped inside. I found myself in a small room with a woman inside. She wore old-fashioned-looking clothes and her hairstyle looked like something from maybe the 30s or 40s.
I introduced myself and told her I had always been curious about the Dutch-themed buildings that decorated the theatre and I had finally found the passage into this one.
“You may be sorry you did,” she told me. “Please sit, I have a story to tell.”
There was a chair and table with an oil lamp burning in the center. There was also a bookshelf with some very old looking books on it. I took a seat at the table and the mysterious lady began to tell her tale.
“I came to this theatre many years ago. At the end of the show, a woman approached, offering me a backstage tour. She led me up a narrow flight of stairs and into this room. Once I was inside she left, shut the door, and I have been alone here ever since. I have tried to get out of this room, but I am unable to. I can see and hear what is happening through the window. But no one can see or hear me.”
“How can that be?” I asked. “How have you survived in here?”
She explained, “Time stands still in this room. The lamp never runs out of oil. I never get hungry or tired and I don’t age. I’ve seen many changes through that window. I saw the theatre fall into disrepair and then close up. It was even more lonely when no one was coming and going. But then I got to see this place brought back to life and restored. And now someone else has finally found their way in here!”
“Maybe the spell has been broken now. Let’s get out of here!” I told her.
“I’m sorry, but it doesn’t work that way,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“See all these books?” she asked. “I have read them all and discovered the only way I would ever be able to escape was if someone else might have the ability to see me and find their way in here to take my place.”
My heart leapt into my throat and I asked, “Take your place? What do you mean?”
As she stepped out the door she said, “I am sorry, but now you must remain here until someday when someone is able to see you and makes their way in here to take your place.”
She closed the door, leaving me behind. I tried to grab the door before it latched, but it was like I ran into an invisible wall. It was the same whenever I tried to find a way out. And no one in the theatre below has been able to see or hear me.
I try to amuse myself by watching the people and hope that someone will notice me in the window. I hope I won’t have to wait here as long as the previous resident. But at least the entertainment on the stage below is good.
Hatchet Man’s harrowing return
BY ANDREA DOWNING
Kate stood at the edge of the old Township Road 56 in front of the creepy old house she inherited from her late grandparents. The house had sat empty since her grandmother passed away five years ago, and it had a lot of work needing to be done.
For tonight, she was just going to get some dinner and get some sleep. Kate settled into bed and read her book until she dozed off.
Around two in the morning, she was awakened by footsteps on the old wooden stairs. She sat up and grabbed the baseball bat beside her bed. The footsteps continued until they were outside her door and then stopped. She sat there shaking, waiting for the door to open, but everything suddenly went quiet.
Kate got up and crept to the door and slowly opened it, but there was nothing there.
In the morning, Kate wandered around the house, adjusting the curtains to let the sunlight in. She kept thinking about last night wondering what she had heard. She decided to put it in the back of her mind and get to work.
Kate began by tearing up the old carpet. When she got most of it up, she noticed some dark stains on the wood floor underneath. Kate bent down to take a closer look and realized it was blood and a lot of it.
At the same time, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. She looked around the room slowly, moving toward the door of the dining room. Once there, she peered into the room, but saw nothing. She thought she was going crazy.
Later that evening, Kate decided to go for a walk down the tree-covered road to visit Dan, who had been her grandparents’ neighbor for a good many years.
As she walked up the small trail to the porch, she noticed Dan sitting in his rocking chair. His eyes lit up when he saw her. He had not seen her since her grandmother’s funeral. They had a wonderful time together, catching up on old times.
Before she left, she told Dan about the odd happenings in the house. He asked her if she had ever heard the history of the property. She told him she hadn’t.
Dan said a long time ago, a German man owned the property and he was mean and miserable. He hated his family and was not happy with them. One day, he decided he was going to get rid of them.
He poisoned his three children and two of them died. The third, a boy, managed to survive and got away with the help of his mother. Then the man killed his wife by chopping her apart with an axe.
Kate listened to the story, trying to decide if she believed it. Dan continued, saying that the man ran away and changed his name. He married again, and then murdered his second wife as well.
This man was eventually caught, convicted of the murders and was hanged for them. Dan pointed to the old cemetery across the road and said he was buried there. They called him “Hatchet Man.” Kate gave Dan a hug and began walking back up the road, thinking about what he had said.
Over the next few months, the experiences kept happening more and more. Kate began to believe she was being haunted by Hatchet Man. As she did repairs on the house, things kept getting worse.
Kate became a complete mental mess and never left the house. A month went by with no one seeing Kate at all.
Local deputies were called in to check on her. They found the house empty. There was fresh blood on the floor beside the old stains.
They followed the trail of blood. It led them out into the woods behind the house, where they found Kate’s body. It had been dismembered and an axe lay beside her.
The sheriff looked sad and said the ghost of Hatchet Man had stuck again. They buried her in the cemetery down the road from the house, near the headstone of the Hatchet Man.
What Dan never told her was that every woman who lived on that property since Hatchet Man had died by his hand, either axed to death or poisoned. And the Hatchet Man was his grandfather.
