The Attic: The Diary of Heather Summerall and the Evil of Adams House Chapters 1 and 2

The Attic: The Diary of Heather Summerall and the Evil of Adams House Chapters 1 and 2

Status: Finished

Genre: Horror



Status: Finished

Genre: Horror



Heather Summerall never knew what had happened in her hometown, in the very house that she bought. After moving in... odd noises, doors opening on their own, hands grabbing her, strange visions... She must find out who died there and what they want from her.
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Heather Summerall never knew what had happened in her hometown, in the very house that she bought. After moving in... odd noises, doors opening on their own, hands grabbing her, strange visions... She must find out who died there and what they want from her.

Chapter1 (v.1) - The Attic: The Diary of Heather Summerall and the Evil of Adams House Chapters 1 and 2

Author Chapter Note

Heather Summerall never knew what had happened in her hometown, in the very house that she bought. After moving in... odd noises, doors opening on their own, hands grabbing her, strange visions... She must find out who died there and what they want from her.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: June 22, 2013

Reads: 95

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: June 22, 2013



*Inscribed on the inside cover of the diary:

Heather, here's to your new life.  Enjoy this gift you're giving yourself.  Take it one day at a time and cherish your new beginning, an end to your former life where you found no happiness.  To a new start.

-Heather Summerall


Chapter 1


Heather's Diary May 27, 2011:

I hoped that moving back to my hometown would prove a healthy retreat from all of the stress and turmoil of city life.  Seeing no future in my job and no prospects for real happiness, especially in love, and... a blow to the head I sustained while at work, I wanted no more of the city and found a very reasonably priced two story fixer-upper at the edge of town, two stories if you don't count the attic.  The place needed quite a bit of work, but I was ok with that. 

The real estate agent told me that I would find a lot of junk in the attic that had been left there but nothing to concern myself with.  I didn't really care.  The price on the house was too good to pass up.  The structure of the house was still in good shape, but the inside needed a lot of repairs, particularly the walls and fixtures.  I figured that I could fix everything for maybe $20,000 spread out over a couple of years and double the value of the place. 

The first couple of days after moving in were hectic, lots of moving stuff around, putting things in their places, decorating, etc.  I was quite pleased to find that the upstairs bathroom was in almost ideal condition.  The tub in particular looked amazing, and old-fashioned legged tub like you'd see in old movies.  So far, I'd sufficed myself with taking showers downstairs, but I thought that after so much work, I could use some relaxation and decided to take a hot bubble bath.  I put on some soft music, lit some candles, and slid down into the tub to soak away my cares.  I was so relaxed, nearly to the point of passing out after a few sips of wine when I heard some loud noises that at first startled me but soon were shrugged off as old pipes in an old house settling.  It sometimes sounded as if the pipes would burst, which gravely concerned me.  I did not want to add extra expense to my project.

The  noises stopped for some time, and again, I nearly fell asleep in the tub.  All of a sudden, however, the noises came back, this time much louder.  It was as if someone were banging on the pipes and trying to pry them from their place in the wall.  I had closed the bathroom door, but it slowly began to creak open.  I nearly jumped out of the tub from sheer fright.  The door opened only a quarter of the way, but I was sure that I had latched it.  I tried to forget about it and return to my bath, but a few seconds later, I saw a shadowy figure run past the doorway.  Needless to say, my bath did not last much longer, and sleep that night was difficult. 

I somehow managed to get through the night, sometimes putting my blanket to my face, other times, after things had seemed to calm down, drinking cup after cup of strong coffee.  To day was brutal as a result.  Everything I did drained my energy.  I unpacked as much as I could and put it away but found myself unable to do more and took a very long afternoon nap.  I hadn't realized how late in the year it was, being so busy.  By the time I awoke, everything was dark... not the normal kind of darkness but eerily and completely dark, as if there were no moon, no stars, no street lights.  The house was so dark that I stubbed my toes hard on a hallway table and almost fell.  I rushed to a window and looked out, but sure enough, the moon, stars, and street lights were still there.  It was so strange how everything outside was so well lit but everything inside was ominously vacant of lumination.

I made my way to the kitchen, where a small slit of light had entered through the window.  There was enough to see throughout the room, but off to one side there was a chair, a chair that I had most definitely left at the table... and in the chair, what appeared to be and elderly woman, sitting with her head hanging low, her gray, matted hair covering her face.  As she slowly lifted her head, I closed my eyes, hoping that I was imagining it all.  When I opened my eyes again, the woman was gone. 

I ran outside and quickly started my car, speeding away into the night.  I had no idea where I was going, but I knew that I had to get out of that house.  Either there existed something in the house or I was losing my mind.  I hoped that neither of those was the case, but it was obvious that one had to be.  After going to a drive-through for a drink (forgetting how hungry I was and not ordering any food), I sped off.  I drove the opposite direction from my house, turning onto a country highway.  As I neared my turn, however, I saw the same mysterious figure standing at the side of the road.  I slammed on my breaks, staring in my rearview mirror, but the image was gone.  This was all too much, and I had no clue as to how I could have any semblance of normality with such occurrences.

I drove endlessly, and the next thing I knew, it was nearing ten p.m.  I decided to head home, in hopes of getting some more sleep and maybe, just maybe, waking up and finding everything back the way I wanted it.  As I pulled into my drive, I noticed that a few of my things were strewn about the yard.  I had locked the house, so how these things got outside puzzled me deeply.  I did not really believe in life after death or in being haunted.  I knew that there had to be a plausible, scientific explanation for everything. 

I picked up my things, coming to find that one of them was a picture of my parents and me.  When I examined the picture closely, not only was the glass broken and the frame lopsided and broken, but half of my dad's head was missing, and there appeared to be blood on my face.  Somehow, even my mother's face looked different.  I couldn't figure out how it looked different, but I knew that something wasn't as it had been.

I walked into the house and slammed the door, making sure that it was latched well.  I set the picture and its broken frame down on the hallway table, the same table on which I had stubbed my toes.  Realizing this, I suddenly felt the pain in my toes.  I hadn't noticed before because of all of the strange events.As I left the hallway, I reached for the light switch and was about to turn it off but decided not to.  Things were too weird to take any chances.  The high utility bill be damned!

I walked into the living room and tried to turn on the light, but nothing happened.  The light from the hallway still shone through the doorway to the place where I stood, enough to look about the room.  I tried once more to turn on the light, but to no avail.  The switch was in an area not lit by the hallway light, and as I put my hand on the wall, I felt something brush across it.  I hurriedly pulled my hand back and looked around but couldn't see anything.  The room was lit enough to see a vagueness all around. 

I heard a loud shriek from above me.  I couldn't tell if it came from the second story or from the attic.  I had not yet been to the attic, not out of fear but out of thinking it unnecessary before finishing all of the other work on the first and second floors.  As I turned my head back, I thought for a brief moment that I saw something moving on the other side of the room.  I felt a presence, an unexplainable presence, perhaps evil, as if it were moving toward me.  The feeling grew stronger with each passing second, leaving me to wonder if I really were losing my mind.  I had experienced similar feeling occasionally as a child but never since.  What was it, I thought.  I had no other living things in the house, besides a couple of plants. 

All of the other lights in the house worked fine.  I began to think I really was imagining all of this and that the living room light could be easily explained by a blow bulb or a shortage in the wiring.  I went to bed soon, and despite a short period of reflection on all of the odd sounds and sights, I fell asleep with ease. 

Heather's Diary May 28, 2011:

When I awoke today, the sun was shining brightly through my window.  Birds outside were chirping up a storm.  Leaves were blowing with the gentle wind.  Nothing seemed amiss.  I strolled out of bed happily, stretching and yawning, a beaming smile illuminating my face... no worries at all, I thought.

After breakfast and a quick shower, I decided that I would treat myself with a casual walk around the neighborhood.  I put on a sweater and wrapped myself in a light jacket and meandered my way about, first exploring my property, coming to the realization that the house had come with a sizeable yard.  As I walked more, I realized that it wasn't just a yard that I had bought but must have included some woods.  There were no fences, and my yard and the woods seemed to blend together, almost melting one into the other.  I thought that being at one with nature would be good for me, leading me to walk through the woods.

I had no idea how peaceful it would all be.  Sure, the trees were mostly absent of foliage, but there were animals scampering about and a light, cool breeze that felt invigorating.  As I walked, I felt more and more attune with my surroundings and began to think that maybe I could handle this strange place.  I soon came upon a gully that, as I could see from my vantage point on the hill, led to what either had to be a large pond or a small lake.  I wondered if this, too, might be mine.  I followed the gully for several minutes before I found something that shocked and shuttered me to my very core.... a giant heap of animal carcasses, all apparently gutted and thrown into this impression, some with no heads.  It looked as though they had been there for some time, their stench reaching me from a hundred feet away. 

For some strange reason, I couldn't get myself to look away or to turn back.  I came closer and closer to the heap, feeling compelled to examine the mess.  On closer inspection, I nearly vomited.  A doe had been bludgeoned in some way, her eyes poking out of her head, hanging from their prostrate and mangled cavities, festering with flies and maggots.  Blood stained the ground everywhere.  The pile was only a short distance from the water, and as I looked in that direction, I realized that from the angle of the land or perhaps, from scavenging animals, pieces of animal decay had reached the edge of that dissipated body of water.

I took off in a dead sprint back to the house.  It was all too much to take.  I vowed that I would never again go into those woods.  I mean, really... who does that?  Who slaughters helpless animals for fun?  Sickening!

The rest of the day, I couldn't find the desire to do much of anything.  I kept thinking back to those poor animals lying in that ditch or gully or whatever it was.  It's almost night now, and I'm starting to have those same creepy feelings again like someone's watching me.  Every time I look around, though, there's nothing.  I don't know if I'm going to like this house.  As soon as I can get some things fixed enough to get a good price, I think I'll sell. 

I'm really not sure what's going on, and maybe I won't even survive.  If the suspicions I'm starting to have are real, I'm either going to go completely insane or die.  I really wish my parents hadn't moved to Florida.  I know Mom would come stay with me for a while... until I get used to this place.  i need my f [entry stops).

That was so weird.  But... this place is weird, so what's new?  The power went off or at least all the power to the lights... radio stayed on and changed stations on its own.  Luckily, I had a flashlight nearby.  I grew up in this town, and I don't remember there ever being a radio station that played stuff out of the 20s or 30s. 

Alright, enough for now.  I can't take this anymore.  I'm really scared.  I can barely [almost scribbling] barely write.  I'm fucking scared shitless. 

Heather's Diary May 29, 2011:

I'm so glad it's daytime!  I called my cousin Shane to come over.  It took me a half an hour to get ahold of him, but he came and stayed the night and checked out the house.  He couldn't find anything wrong but said I'm gonna need new wiring and plumbing in a lot of places. 

Shane came back a little while ago and brought me flashlights, batteries, matches, candles, and a gun.  It was odd, though.  It was like Shane knew something I don't.  He said there didn't seem to be anything really wrong with the house other than the stuff I already figured, but he acted weird.  He really didn't wanna stay here last night, and I had to beg him.  He couldn't wait to leave this morning and barely even stepped a foot inside when he came back. 

I'm about to call the real estate woman and demand to know what's going on here.  Something happened in this house, and she didn't tell me.  I mean... there's a law against that... Isn't there?

Heather's Diary May 29, 2011 page 2:

I thought that this deserved its own page.  I asked the real estate woman what is going on, and she insisted that there was nothing wrong.  She sounded kinda funny about it, though. 

After I yelled at her to tell me what was really happening, she admitted that there were stories about the house going back for some time.  I remember hearing something when I was a kid about a house in town where something bad might've happened, but I didn't think it was this house.  I thought the house where it happened burned down or something.

Apparently, a whole family died here, or at least that's how the story goes.  I guess it was just before or during the Depression. 

The house was so cheap not only because it needed a lot of repairs but because nobody wanted to buy the haunted house of Sheridan.  I still don't believe in ghosts or hauntings or anything, but maybe I'm starting to...

What was that?  I feel like I'm writing as if I'm talking.  It's daylight.  The whole house is well lit.  I know there is nothing here.... but I keep hearing sounds... pipes, doors shutting, a shriek. 

I can't take this anymore!  It's my house!  I'm checking out the attic and I'm throwing away all that junk or old shit or whatever it is!  No stupid stories are going to keep me from living here or making the changes in my life I set out to make! 

Heather's Diary May 29, 2011 page 3:

Again, I thought that this should have its own page.  This house just gets creepier and creepier.  Even though there are a couple of windows in the attic, it was unbelievably dark.  I had to come back down for a flashlight and then could barely get the door to the attic back open.  It was like there was something or maybe even someone holding it shut.

I found lots of boxes and a couple of wooden trunks.  The boxes were obviously much newer than what was in them.  Somebody must've gone up there at some point and boxed things up but didn't bother to throw them away.  I found old photos, black and white photos.  There were some of a whole family, some of just two kids together, some of the kids by themselves, and some of who I guess was the mom. 

I even found one of the house.  It looked like the house was in amazing shape back then, almost like a mansion.  I swear that the whole time I was looking at the pictures like there was someone standing over me watching and breathing on my neck. 

I also found some toys that were really old and lots of old clothes.  As I was about to leave, I swear I saw the old woman.  I really need to see a doctor because this is all taking a toll on me.  It's even causing me accidents.  When I went down the stairs from the attic, I nearly fell.  If I hadn't caught myself on the attic floor, I would've fallen.  What's more is that before I could get myself completely back up, it was like the stairs tried to raise on their own and trap me. 

Heather's Diary May 29, 2011 page 3 cont.:

This is all I need!  Now my mom is telling me to get out of this house.  I laughed when she said it, but she insisted.  She said I should sell it as soon as I can and not worry about how much I get.  According to her, her grandma used to tell her the stories of the people that lived here, and no one should be here... no one should disturb this place, especially her only daughter.

My mom says that there's evil in this house, that that's why no one's lived here since the 60s.  Supposedly, a couple of families tried renovating the house and living here but soon disappeared or left.  I told my mom I don't scare so easily, but she begged me.  I could hear my dad in the background laughing and telling my mom to shut up and let me live my life.

Ok.  That's odd.  I know I had my phone right here next to me. 

Found it!

Weird that it was in the living room.  I know I brought it up here with me and set it next to me on the table.  Anyway, I may take my mom's advice and just get the hell out.  I am kinda scared, but this is really just some stupid bullshit made up by the townspeople.  Hardly anybody ever talked about it when I was a kid.  It's obviously a story concocted from way back to scare people and give the town some fame, yet it didn't last long. 

Heather's Diary May 29, 2011 page 4:

Again, something that has to have its own page.  I AM LOSING MY MIND!  I was putting some more stuff away when all of a sudden, I couldn't move and started to see a vision or daydream or something of a kid being burned to death.  It was all I could see.  I tried to shake it.  I knew I was wide awake.  This doesn't happen to normal people.  But it's so weird cuz I never had anything like any of this happen before I moved here!

I've decided 2 things that I'm gonna do: 1) go to the library in Millsburg and see if they have microfilm of old newspapers and see if there is anything having to do with this house and 2) make a doctor's apt. to get my head checked.  Either there is truth to the stuff about this house (some kind of explainable truth based in reality and not in stupid ghost stories) or... I'm going fucking crazy.  I don't like to use that kind of language much, but damnit if I'm not about to commit myself to an asylum. 


Chapter 2


This is Heather Summerall's diary entry for Monday, May 30, 2011.  I am using the voice recording app on my phone to enter later in my actual diary.  I am now driving to Millsburg to visit the local library and do some research.  I'm going to get to the bottom of all of this one way or another! 

Ok.  Went to the Millsburg Library.  The lady at the front desk sent me to the local history department.  I had a hell of a time finding anything but finally got someone to help me.  I didn't even know how to use microfilm.  Funny, huh?  Apparently, there is a little bit of truth to the stories.  I found a few articles about "Madman Adams" or "Local Man Threatened by Mob" or "Adams Boy Still Missing."

Interestingly, according to the local newspapers, a man named Hannibal Adams was accused of torturing animals in his house and then later, of kidnapping and torturing a couple of children.  There was nothing said about what happened to him or if it was ever proven that he actually did those things. 

What was really interesting is that in the last article, it talked about the Adams' son, Hezekiah, I think, disappearing yet the town being largely unconcerned.  It said that there was a search party but that they only looked around the Adams property, I guess my property and found nothing and then gave up.  Something doesn't add up!

His mother was a little distraught but not as much as you'd expect, and there was no mention of his father, other than a blurb about the accusations against him.  Was he dead?  Why wasn't his wife more concerned that her son was missing?  There was a brief mention of a sister named Annabelle but not much said about her. 

I asked the man at the desk if he knew anything, but he said that he's not from around here and had no clue about finding more info other than looking through all of the reels from the 20s and 30s.  Frankly, I don't want to spend the rest of my life looking into this. 

Wow!  This is funny!  Before I could finish what I was saying earlier, an old man banged on my car window.  He said he heard me talking about the Adams house.  When I told him that I bought it, he yelled at me and said I was a fool and should get out before something bad happens.  As if it weren't bad enough that my mom is telling me that shit, now I have strangers doing it!

The old man said that there is an evil in the house than can't be killed and that the people that lived there last were his friends and that they didn't just disappear, that the evil in the house got them.  He said that everyone ruled it as a case of them abandoning the house out of fear, yet their car was still there and all of their stuff and that there was even some blood on the floor. 

Either some people know a lot more about this than others, or most people around here are covering something up.

It's still pretty early, but man, am I tired!  I think I'm gonna go home and take a nap. 

Heather's Diary May 30, 2011:

I haven't had a chance to enter the stuff from my phone yet.  I got woken up by a loud banging sound from the attic.  I tried to go back to sleep, but the sound happened again and again and again.  It definitely wasn't pipes this time!  They don't even go up to the attic!  I might not be so scared if it weren't so incredibly dark!  There are dark clouds everywhere, like it's going to storm.  It's so dark in here that I'm writing by flashlight again.  I was too scared to even get up and turn on the light. 


I called Shane.  He said he couldn't come over.  I asked him if he couldn't or wouldn't, and he didn't answer.  Maybe I could've handled it better but I told him to go fuck himself and that it was a really shitty way to treat his own family.  If Aunt Rhonda were alive, I'd tell her what a rotten piece of shit her son was being. 

I would get up out of bed and probably leave and maybe even go to Shane's and yell at him, but I can't move.  I can barely move my hand to write th [word left unfinished].

Heather's Diary May 31, 2011:

It's 1 in the morning, and I'm so scared that I'm completely frozen!  I haven't gotten out of bed once!  There are so many loud noises in this house, and light have flickered on and off.  I even had that same dream or vision or whatever in the fucking hell it is about the kid burning alive!  This does not happen to normal people!  This only happen to crazy people!

Fuck this!  I'm calling that stupid real estate bitch that lied to me about this place!

She told me I could call her at home!  Lying bitch!  She told me to call her or come by in the morning and not to ever bother her again at home.  I told her I want to sell this place immediately, and she laughed!

Heather's Diary May 31, 2011 page 2:

It's now 6:30, and I haven't been asleep since yesterday afternoon.  I am so tired!  But I'm so afraid to sleep!  I've called Shane 7 times!  He stopped answering my calls.  Now that it's light out, I'm getting the fuck out of here!  I'm going down to where Shane works and chewing his ass out!

This is Heather. I am once again recording on my phone.  It is May 31, 2011 at 7:12 a.m.  I went by Shane's house, and he was gone, so I went to the lumber yard where he works, and no one was there.  Shane always said I could depend on him, but that was obviously meaningless bullshit!

Ok.  It's now 8:39 a.m.  I found Shane.  He got mad that I bothered him at work, but I told him everything that's happened, and he started to act a little bit more like the Shane I know.  The Shane I know would never let me go through this.  Since I never had a brother, he was like my big brother growing up.  There was nothing Shane wouldn't do for me or couldn't fix.

Shane said to pack a bag and come stay with him for a while.  I'm now on my way back to the house to get my stuff. 

Ok.  I'm never going back!  I couldn't get inside and had to break a window.  Apparently, the house is such an old piece of shit that it no longer takes keys!  Once I got my stuff together, I still couldn't get the door open or the back door either.  I even tried to get out the window but couldn't get the glass to break anymore or the window to open!  I had to kick the door several times to loosen it.  I even gave up for a while but finally banged the hell out of the door with a hammer.  I flew out of the house and didn't even turn to look at it! 

Shane's still at work, and I don't know if he has an extra key, so I guess I'll find something to kill time.  I guess maybe I'll go back to the library.  I want to know more, but I don't want to actually be in the house. 

That old man was sitting on a bench not far from the library.  When he saw me, he rushed over to me and asked me if anything else had happened.  I told him about the noises, about the doors and the window, about the daydreams I keep having.  He told me that the evil in the house, whatever it is, doesn't want me to leave, that it doesn't want me to even get inside if it means I plan to not come back.  The scariest part was when he told me, "It wants something from you!"

Then he told me that he remembers his dad helping to look for the Adams boy and his dad even admitting to being part of the mob that killed Hannibal Adams.  Nobody owned up to what happened publicly.  According to this man, even the police were involved in covering it up... some even helping string Adams up and shoot him.  The old man's father even told him that Adams took a long time to die, laughing at the mob as they pulled harder on his rope and filled his body with bullets.  He was supposedly too evil to die. 

To make matters worse, the people cut him limb from limb and severed his head, burying each part miles away from each other... but what happened next was the worst.  Apparently, Hezekiah Adams, the man's son, angry over what had happened to his father, went on a rampage, killing every member of the mob, including the father of the man I spoke to.  The boy even killed the kids of the people that killed his father.  The old man that told me this said that he was one of the lucky ones.  Hezekiah Adams ran him through with a pitchfork.  I didn't believe him... but he showed me the scar, and it was obvious that it was caused by multiple things piercing him... a pitchfork!

I didn't even make it into the library.  I found out way more than I expected without it.  According to the man, Hezekiah's mother stayed in the house after all of this, and the townspeople even took pity on her, bringing her food for many years.  She eventually lost her mind, breaking every mirror in the house and confining herself to the attic.  He asked me if there were mirrors in the house when I moved in, which had hardly occurred to me with how busy I'd been and with all of the weird occurrences.  I realized that there were no mirrors but told him that I had put a couple of mirrors in.  He told me to break them the first chance I get, that there may be a chance of containing the evil.  It's now coming to me that the strangest things happened after I put up the mirrors.  I'm sure that can't be true, though... that mirrors have anything to do with it. 

I know I said i don't believe in ghosts or in being haunted, but I'm really starting to.  Otherwise, I'd be at home right now... but the way things are, I'm not even sure I'll go back to get the rest of my stuff!

I told the man about seeing an old woman with her face covered by gray hair.  He asked me if she wore all black and if she ever spoke.  I said that she did wear all black every time I saw her but that she never stayed long, never spoke, and never uncovered he face. 

The man said that it was just his own thoughts on the matter but that the Adams woman's strength was returning by me being there in the house and that either it may be she that wants something from me or that she's somehow trying to help me by warning me.  According to the man, the story goes that it's really the spirits of Hannibal and Hezekiah Adams that haunt the place and consume any who overstay their welcome.  There were even stories of people randomly disappearing after being seen going near the house.  

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