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Ghost Story/Poem contest entry

Harold Jenkins' Ghost

by DragonSkulls

Traditional Ghost Story. Contest Winner 

We bought the house on Maple Hill, ignoring what they said, that old man Jenkins' ghost was there and walked among the dead. The home he built with his own hands along the countryside, has now been empty forty years since Harold Jenkins died. His murderer was never caught nor motive ever found. It's rumored he hid stolen wealth in jars beneath the ground. My wife and I did not believe this tale that many feared, until one night, while in our bed, his horrid ghost appeared. A withered man with wrinkled skin, his eyes held discontent. He only stared while we stared back, we felt no ill intent. Two bullet holes were in his chest that killed him, I assume. He slowly faded in the dark and vanished from the room. As weeks went by, we saw him more, at different times of night. We'd cringe each time that he appeared and shuddered at the sight. One night I watched him walk outside. The night air made no sound. I followed through the maze of trees. He pointed to the ground. I thought of rumors of his wealth and pondered of their worth. I then believed the tale of jars that rest beneath the earth. I hurried back and grabbed the tools, a shovel, pick and flare. Then dug a hole where Harold stood and found his money there. I ran inside and told my wife with dirt smeared on my face, that now we're rich from treasure found at Harold Jenkins' place. So, since he made us wealthy too, we told him he could stay, as long as he'd start wearing clothes and hide that schlong away.

Writing Prompt Write a ghost story of any length, in a poem of any type. Let's celebrate Halloween!

Traditional Ghost Story. Contest Winner