Free The Haunting of Gabriel Ashe by Dan Poblocki Page A

playing tricks.” She didn’t sound convinced. Gabe felt a chill.
    A few minutes later, he led them through the maze of rooms on the first floor: the dining room, the parlor, the kitchen, an office, a den. Felicia begged to see upstairs. Malcolm shushed the group as they approached Miri’s door. Gabe briefly opened each of the bedroom doors, but when he came upon the closed door that led to his father’s workshop, he passed it by entirely.
    “Wait,” Felicia said. “What’s in here?” She reached for the knob. Gabe leapt between her and the door, almost knocking Felicia to the ground. She shrieked, then looked at him in shock. “Geez! Just kill me, why don’t you?”
    “Sorry,” said Gabe, trembling, ignoring his urge to shush her. “It’s nothing. A closet.”
    “A closet?” Felicia stared at the door, looking more intrigued now than she had been before. “Filled with what? Gold?”
    “Is your grandmother hiding something?” Ingrid asked, wide-eyed.
    “Just…towels,” Gabe answered, holding the doorknob so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.
    “Why can’t we see them?” Malcolm asked.
    “You want to see towels ?” Mazzy asked.
    “No,” said Felicia. “But he’s acting really weird.”
    Gabe felt his mouth dry up. He glanced at Mazzy, who only looked back at him apologetically.
    Forget it, Gabe thought. What does it matter anymore? Seth Hopper had been right. They’d never wanted to be friends with him. If they’d only wished to see the famous Temple House, why not just show them and end it all?
    He began to turn the knob. Then, from downstairs, there erupted an earth-shattering boom. The house shook. Outside, the wind wailed an awful howl. The group tensed like they’d done during the zombie movie. This time, however, the fright wasn’t fun. Mazzy grabbed Gabe’s arm and squeezed.
    “What in holy heavens was that?” Felicia asked, turning slowly toward the staircase, her interest in the workshop door disappearing like a ghost.

FROM THE TOP OF THE STAIRS, they could see that the front door had blown open in the wind. It had hit the wall so hard, the doorknob had left a slight impression in the wallpaper. Gabe shook his head. His father was going to kill him.
    “I must not’ve closed it all the way when you guys came in,” said Gabe, skipping quickly down the stairs. He shoved against the door as the wind pushed back from the other side.
    “Wow,” said Mazzy. “We’re so sorry.”
    “Why are you apologizing?” Felicia snapped. “It wasn’t our fault.”
    “It’s nobody’s fault,” said Gabe, thankful that they were no longer standing in the upstairs hallway. “Why don’t you all go sit down in the living room. Malcolm can put on the next movie. I’ll grab some snacks from the kitchen.”
    A few minutes later, carrying a tray of cheeses he’d scrounged from the fridge and crackers from an old box in the pantry, he turned off the hallway light, ready to set the mood for the next flick, though, in fact, the house had already done a fine job of that.
    Ingrid yelped when he came through the door. Squished together on the couch, his friends looked terrified.
    “Not funny, Gabe,” said Malcolm.
    “What’s not funny?”
    Mazzy leaned forward. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
    “About what?” Gabe placed the tray on the coffee table, baffled.
    “That sound,” said Felicia. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
    “What sound?”
    But seconds later, he heard it too. A low-down, guttural growl. He turned toward the hallway. The sound came again—a deep, throaty threat. Inhuman. It was coming from the pitch-dark parlor opposite the living room.
    Ingrid whined, bringing her knees to her chest. “ That sound.”
    The floor tilted. Gabe grabbed at the door frame. His fingers began to tingle. Breathe, he told himself. Mazzy appeared beside him. Her slight touch brought blood back to his head, and the room righted. “Was that an animal?” he whispered. “Could it have