The Horror of Retched Grove

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Young and Ambitious
Quinnly Forret has just moved into a brand new house but the town in which they now live is rather odd. And their neighbor keeps saying to leave by February or else something will "get" them?

Submitted: May 03, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 03, 2017



January 24th


Today I moved into the new house. It is small but comfortable. It is on the outskirts of Retched Grove. It’s light and airy coloring, which would usually make someone feel happy, is unsettling. Strange. Hopefully, it is just “new-house-jitters” or some other form of cold feet.

The bathroom is small and there is only cold water. Tomorrow I will see about having that fixed. My bedroom is also small. I mind not, for, the smaller, the cozier. My bed is small and mostly comfortable. The blanket is big, yet I feel cold. It is Winter and snow is not falling. There does not appear to be snow on the ground. Driving here I saw snow fall but it appears to have not only stopped but disappeared…I do not understand why. Perhaps someone came and took the snow? I am tired but I could swear I hear music playing…yet I am not playing any music…

I have not met any neighbors, except one small house further down the road. There does not appear to be a kitchen, though I do not need one. I do not often cook meals. I usually go out to eat or eat cold beans out of a can. 


January 25th


Today I went to visit my neighbor down the road. He introduced himself as Ruggard. I introduced myself as, of course, Quinnly Forret. Ruggard and I talked for long but only one thing he said really caught my eye. “You better get out before February.” What a strange man. Afraid of a month. I asked why and he said that February is when the Horror comes. Yes, “the Horror” he actually corrected me on the H being capitalized. Ruggard is obviously a poor old man who hasn’t seen another person in years and thus imagines things. Maybe I will bake him something? I’ve always wanted to try baking. Ruggard and I talked on and on but at 9:30 P. M. I told him I had to go and I left. Before I left he told me once again to leave by February. Or the Horror would catch me. “Quinnly,” he told me. “if the Horror finds you are here it will want you, there will be no escape. But, get out by February and you might just make it.” Crazy old coot. “We’ll see…” I told him. I heard the music again tonight. It plays as if a fanciful waltz is going on but someone is also going to murder someone else. Thus, you are in suspense to when the murder will happen…and to whom. Yet people are waltzing happily and no murderous scoundrel is in sight.


January 26th


Today I tried to call a repair man for the cold water. My cellphone was out of battery. And I left my cellphone plug at my old house. This was rather disheartening. But, I still have the landline. So, I tried that. I called up my plumber but instead a rather scratchy voice croaked, “Hello?” Maybe my plumber has a cold? “Evening, Harold.” Harold is my plumber’s name. “The water in my new house is rather cold. Do you suppose you could come fix it?” I asked. “This new house…you do plan to stay in it don’t you?” Harold asked. “Of course I do.” I replied. “Until when? Will you stay for February?” asked Harold. “I suppose I will stay till I start a family and need a bigger house. Why?” I speculated. “Of course, of course…” Harold mumbled. Then he hung up. I heard a long static sound and then a horrifying voice said, “You must leave…do not stay…leave…you must leave…” I dropped the phone. It must have been a prank. When I went to bed the music was playing again. I have come up with an interesting name for it. “The Deathly Waltz.”


January 27th


My head spun with what happened yesterday. I was a bit afraid, mostly curious. I stumbled out of bed and started my first day at my new job. My new boss is a man. He wears a hat that hides his eyes and most of his face. He didn’t look at me. Just mumbled to me what to do. “Clean the floors…”

Sometimes he would just point at things and say one word. “Reorganize…” 

I did what he said but it still felt unsettling. I walked around the town today. It is small. The people are not kind except for the librarian who is so kind it is as if someone is making her act this way. “Would you like a book? We have lots of books! Lots of books indeed, yes lots of books. Good books, very good, very good books.” she told me. “Erm…yes.” I replied, not knowing how to respond to such a strange sentiment. Upon returning home I found a small piece of paper. Strange? Maybe from Ruggard? I read it and it said, “This is not good not good at all.”

It made me extremely uncomfortable. But, I like my house and do not wish to leave. Thus, I will continue living here. No matter how strange.


January 28th


Today I saw something. I know not why I have never noticed this before, but on the wall in my room there is a window. It looks as if it is a painting but it is not. It goes into a room with flowers. There is a grave. The words on the grave, just close enough to read if I squint, say “the Horror.”

Ruggard! Of course! He’s trying to scare me. I do not know why but it will not work. I will stay in this house.


January 29th


Tomorrow is February 1st. I went to see Ruggard again today. “Quinnly,” he told me. “You haven’t left yet?”

“No, Ruggard. I am staying. I like my house.” I told him. He shook his head. “Stupid, stupid, stupid…” he mumbled. I was slightly offended but I could also tell this old man was not trying to pull my leg or scare me. He truly believes there is some sort of monster in my house. I feel bad for the old coot. He is trying to help me. Strange old man. Needs to see a doctor, I think. Today I decided to tidy up the house and I put some music on. I played my favorite song but halfway through the song it went to static and all I could hear was a gruff voice chanting, “Leave. Leave. Leave. Leave.”


Febraury 1st


Today I found yet another note. This one read “Blood is red, veins are blue, I’ll cut you open, and kill you”

Disturbing yet it just makes me want to stay and find out if Ruggard is writing these letters or if someone else is…HA! Who else would write death threat letters to me? Nobody in town even knows my name! Or where I live! Except Ruggard. What a fool I am. This is simply the work of a tired old coot with far too much time on his hands. I’ll have his head for this! Tomorrow I’ll go to his house and chew him out. This is ridiculous. What a prank. This type of thing must be illegal! I wouldn’t know. I’m not a lawyer. But I’m sure


It happened again. The music. That waltz. I can almost…remember? No that’s not the right word…see? I can almost see them. See them dancing. In my house. I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.


Febraury 2nd


The Horror is seeking me out. I saw it this morning…it is big….long nails….painfully scratchy voice. I hear it now, calling my name. Saying it will come for me. Telling me exactly how it is going to murder me shamelessly. Hopefully someone will find my journal and not be as stupid as I was…if there is one thing I have learned it is always listen to your elders. I have called the police but when I told them where I live they hung up immediately. Please, if you are reading this somehow, please help me! Please!



Maybe someone will come! Maybe someone will help me! I have hope! Maybe my dear sweet love! My P





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