Chapter 6 My triumph over the hoodlums

The two boys had reached a decision and I must admit it was rational enough, since even an illusion can’t go on forever. But I wasn’t about to let them off so easily. After they had passed a few doors, they heard a melancholic, nostalgic melody echoing strangely dreamy and ethereal.

At the sound of it Ennio froze like a man bitten by a poisonous snake.

‘What’s wrong with you? Come on!’ said Gino pushing the boy furiously.

‘I know that tune,’ said Ennio, mesmerized, ‘it’s the music of a toy I used to have, when I was little.’

‘A toy,’ repeated Gino with a puzzled look. ‘What kind of a toy?’

‘A music box. Granma used to wind it up for me when I couldn’t sleep.’

‘So what?’ said Gino indifferently ‘What does that matter now? We must leave this place as fast as we can.’

‘You don’t get it,’ said Ennio, ‘I have to find out what’s behind that door or I’ll lose my mind completely.’

‘That ship has sailed,’ said Gino angrily, ‘we must leave this place and find Carlo, before it’s too late.’

‘Shut your pie hole, Gino!’ said harshly the other boy. ‘I know what we're supposed to do better than you.’

And with that Carlo’s second in command bent down and looked through the keyhole to find out what was behind the mysterious door. There, just a few steps away, he could clearly see his nursery with the old flowery wallpaper that his mother had picked for him, Back then, when she used to call him her little angel. He was flooded from emotions his eyes were full of tears.

A female figure was sitting in a rocking chair with her back turned to the door dressed in the same way his grandmother used to dress, humming as the music box was playing that magical, dreamy little tune that so comforted Ennio, when he was little.

Now the boy had to find out who that woman was. His grandmother had died many years ago, but her memory alone was enough to soften the hard of this tough boy. Almost involunterally his fingers slid over the doorknob.

‘Ennio, stop? Please, let’s just go! Can’t you see? This devil house is messing with our minds.’

But it was already too late. The door had opened and Ennio was moving towards that mysterious woman.

‘Grandma,’ he stuttered almost in a childlike manner.

‘Ennio,’ answered an old woman’s voice ’thank goodness you came! It’s so cold here. Have you been a good boy?’

‘Yes, granny,’ he replied timidly.

‘Have you been a good boy?’ asked again the voice this time sounding darker and more unnatural.

Frightened Ennio took a step back as the old woman’s figure stood up and turned to face him.

‘Were you a good boy?’ asked a different, extremely dark voice and Bony, my head skeleton, wearing the bonnet of Ennio’s grandmother turned all the way to reveal his undead skull.

Ennio, realizing he had fallen into a trap, turned his back to the horrible apparition trying to escape but the door closed with a bang separating him from Gino.

‘You haven’t been a good boy!’ screamed Bony ‘And now I'll have to punish you.’

With that he stretched his skeletal arm to grab Ennio, while the boy was making a desperate attempt to turn the doorknob and get away.

‘Let me go! What do you want of me?’ cried Ennio but Bony’s skeletal arm was already grabbing him by the shoulder.

At this point I thought that the young hoodlum had taken his lesson, so I allowed him to open the door and slip away.

Crying like a little baby the boy, not so tough anymore, grabbed Gino by the arm and started running trying desperately to escape from his worst nightmare.

I had almost finished with those two, so I materialized in a jiffy an end to my endless hallway and let them get out. To their great surprise the two boys realized that they were in the little hall right outside the kitchen as if they had just come out.

Terrified beyond all description they rushed up the stairway to find the others. Imagine the surprise of Carlo and the rest of them, when, instead of the frightened Pepe, they saw the two gang members running towards them yelling and begging to get the hell out of the evil house, as they called me.

‘What are you two mumbling?’ Barked Carlo furiously ‘Why didn’t you do what I told you? Half the night has passed and we are still standing and waiting here like idiots for you to…’

‘Carlo, shut your stinking mouth,’ said Gino angrily. ‘We’ve been through hell tonight and we are leaving, with you or without you. Either come with us, or stay here and rot.’

For a moment there Carlo was left speechless before such an unprecedented display of courage on Gino’s part. But soon he regained his self control.

‘That's interesting. I didn't know he had it in him,’ he thought, ‘Got to show them who's in charge.’

‘Listen here, you morron,’ he said angrily ‘you’ll get downstairs right away and you will do what we have planned or else…’

‘Carlo, they are right, something's not right, not right at all’ mumbled Angelo ‘look …the walls… the walls are bleeding!’

The “Great Leader” turned to see what the boy was talking about. It was now his turn to freeze with terror. In fact my walls were bleeding in various places and the blood was spelling the word “death”. Not a very original idea but effective. Carlo nearly pissed his trousers . At the same moment heavy steps echoed tramping on the stairs. Someone was coming and none of the boys was especially keen to find out who that was.

‘All in the attic! Hurry up!’ screamed Carlo. ‘I think the door is open.’

Frightened out of their wits the five young boys, trampling over each other rushed up the stairs and into the attic. Of course that was the place where many of my monsters nested but I had ordered them not to hurt them. I had already taught them a lesson that they wouldn’t forget soon.

The terrifying treading on the stairs of two feet heavier than anvils, was echoing ever closer. The attic window was open. There was only one way out and they knew it. All the young punks stampeded towards the open window pushing and yelling to grab the drainpipe and slide down to safety.

It goes without saying that Carlo, like the cowardly bully he was, managed to slide down first, but half way down his hands betrayed him and he fell on some bushes in the garden.

With a slightly hurt ankle not caring about the pain he grabbed his bicycle and left at full speed. The others were right behind him on their own bicycles wimpering and snivelling like the spineless, cowardly bulies they were.

Back in my little living room Pepe safe and still bleary heard them and managed to catch from the window a glimpse of them disappearing coverd by the night mist.

‘That’s a good one,’ thought the boy ‘what’s got into them?’

In a few days time he would find out. Sooner or later some member of the gang would talk and the boy would realize the truth. But even if that did not happen, so much for the better. I might be a good haunted house but I didn’t want everyone to be aware of it. I would be more effectively scary, if the world didn’t knowI had a soft spot for young kindhearted “nerds”.