The autumn leaf detached from its home of the dark oak branch and fluttered through the cool air. It daintily landed on the ground, only to be crushed flat by Kevin’s shoe as he sprinted across his yard. His target, a small, red kickball, soared through the air and landed in the backyard of an old rickety house at the end of the street. Kevin stopped, looking blankly at the old house. It was only three houses down and across the street from his house, yet he had never entered it before, or even gone near it. Every time he walked past it to go to school, he would quicken his pace and look away, as if the the house was glaring intensely at him. While his mother and father told him that nobody lived in the house and that it had been deserted for years, once he thought he saw a shadow against the curtains of the house, before it darted out of his sight. He never looked at the building the same way again.

Kevin’s trance was suddenly broken by a loud “Damn!” that came from the other side of his yard. Kevin looked over to his friend, Joey. Joey was a year older than him and had almost completed the seventh grade, but he wasn’t the brightest star in the sky so he was in most of Kevin’s classes. Joey also had the problem of letting everybody know what he was thinking at all times, and every time he would blurt something out in class, he would break out into a wide smile that would cause the teachers to flash out into the dirtiest of looks.
“Where’d you think it landed, China?” Joey was shielding his eyes while staring over toward the end of the street. His glasses shone in the evening sunlight.

“I think it landed behind the old house.” Kevin shivered as he said this.

“What? No way! You’re so gonna die if you go to fetch that!”

“Will not!” Kevin snapped back, desperate to not look like a wimp.

He shuddered as he strolled down the street, each step made his feet feel heavier. The crunching of leaves echoed behind him as Joey followed him on the grass. When Kevin arrived after what seemed like an hour, the house loomed over him, a massive dragon facing a tiny knight in the middle of the street. Kevin gradually made his way into the front yard of the house, his vision darting around to make sure nothing was going to jump out at him from the grass or front door. He looked behind him and saw Joey, crossing his arms on the other side of the street. His usually curly brown hair stood up, blowing stiffly in the wind.

“Well, go ahead.”

“You’re not coming?” Kevin cocked an eyebrow.

“Hell no I’m not coming! You think I want to get eaten alive by whatever monster lives inside of that house?” The tone in Joey’s voice implied that Kevin was a dunce for even considering that he’d get anyone to go with him on this.

Kevin tensed up. “Alright then.” He was already pretty short, but he shrunk lower and lower as he approached the house, taking a wide circle around the front porch and heading for the dead, rotting fence. He suddenly broke out into a rushed charge, leaping over the fence in a single bound and skidding into the backyard. He began to jerk his head around, looking for his ball.

It wasn’t there.

The house was supposed to be empty. Who could’ve gotten it?

Boom, Boom…

Steps barreled from the back of the house. Kevin’s gaze snapped over to the back door. The steps got closer to the door as Kevin stood frozen in place, his black hair spiked on end. The door began to creak open. Kevin broke out of his stupor and bolted back for the fence, his heart pounding, sending ripples throughout his entire body. Without thinking, he almost cleared the fence this time, but got his pants caught on the old board, which almost instantly snapped, sending him falling into the ground in a dazed confusion. Joey looked as if he was surprised that Kevin made it back alive.

As Kevin hustled over to his side of the street, Joey asked, “What happened? Where’s the ball?”

“Gone. I dunno what happened to it. It was definitely there!” Kevin spouted in between deep breaths.

“So whatever lives in there must’ve stolen it. If anything lives in there.” Joey said with uncertainty.

“What are you kids doing?” A loud voice came from a few houses over. Kevin and Joey looked over to see Brian and Alex riding over on their bikes. Brian was a year older than Joey, and he was larger than most people his age, weighing almost 170 pounds. Joey often poked fun at him for this, resulting in many bruises and cracked lenses. Alex was one of Brian’s friends and was in a lower level of classes than Joey and Kevin. His dark brown hair almost completely covered his eyes, and Kevin wondered how he could even ride on that bike of his without falling multiple times. As Brian stopped his bike, he gave Joey and Kevin a look as if they were two little children who were out and getting into trouble.

“What’s up, potato sack?” Joey barked out before Kevin could stop him. Moments later, Joey was on his back, engulfed in a pile of recently raked leaves.

“Y’all weren’t thinking of going to the ol’ house over there, right?” Brian cocked his head up towards the house.
“Our kickball landed in the backyard. We were gonna go get it back but then it was gone.” Kevin replied. “Should we go inside and check?”

“If you wanna get chopped up, that’s what ya do!” Alex cut in, and Kevin gave him a questioning look.
“What are you talking about? My mom says nobody’s in there.” Kevin said to Alex, even though he didn’t believe it.

“Yeah, nobody ‘cept the Cleavered Man.” Alex said in an ominous tone, clearing his hair to show his eyes. They were dead serious, locked onto Kevin’s.

Kevin shivered, and slowly asked, “W-What’s that?”

“You’ve never heard of the Cleavered Man?” A smile began to creep up Brian’s face. “Your momma’s been keeping some secrets from you.”

“Who is he?” Joey got up, scratching leaves out of his hair. “Better not be some B. S. story you guys are tellin’ all the time.”

“Oh, no,” Brian was grinning even wider now, showing his dimples. “This is a story, but it sure isn’t B. S., I’ll tell you that.”

“How can I trust you?” Kevin asked.

“Well, I can’t prove it myself, but have you ever seen somebody lookin’ through the windows, then runnin’ like a rat that you found in a pantry?”

Kevin nodded.

“Come over to my house, boys. I got a tale to tell.”

They sat around Brian’s backyard in foldable chairs, Kevin and Alex both sipping on juice boxes and Joey fiddling with his glasses, which had smudges on the lenses.

“So are we gonna get this story started, or what?” Joey looked up at Brian inquisitively.

“Aight, now that you guys are settled, here we go. A long time ago, way before any of us were born, an old man used to live in that there house over at the end of the street. Lived there with his daughter, they say.”
“Who’s ‘they?’”

“Shut your trap, Joey, I’m talking here! Anyways, his daughter’s a butcher, right? Real creepy. She would always be throwin’ fits about meaningless stuff, trying to start fights for no reason. She even hit poor old Mr. Uris from across the street.” He gestured over to their kind neighbor’s house. Mr. Uris was always doing nice things for other people, and Kevin found it hard to imagine anyone would be angry with him, much less assault him.

“Then one day she just goes off the hook, screaming and banging on other people’s doors and running out into the middle of the street, stopping cars and stuff. Her dad grabbed her and pulled her into the house, and then it was quiet, really quiet, for a few hours. Then his daughter comes out, covered in blood, holding a cleaver. The cops caught her, luckily, but we don’t know what happened to the old man. Nobody checked the house, everyone was too scared to see if he was killed. The cops wouldn’t say what happened, either. Said it was confidential. Most people think he left, moved out, but his old car is still in the garage. What I’m thinking is that she cut him up into bloody pieces with the cleaver, severing all of his limbs like in one of those horror movies, but he’s still roaming around the house as a ghost, looking for somebody to enact his revenge upon.”

It was dark now. Everyone was silent. The smell of charred leaves filled the air. Someone was making a fire, obviously having a better time than the tense circle of kids in Brian’s backyard. A sharp crunching noise suddenly filled the air. Joey jerked his head to the right, and realized it was only a chipmunk that stepped on a leaf.

Quietly, Kevin stood up. “I think I gotta go.”

“See ya,” Joey mumbled.

“Bye,” Alex said. He was shaking.

“Have a good night,” Brian said, looking around the yard, as if he was scared by his own story.

As Kevin slowly walked home, he looked back at the old house. He began to walk over there, as if he were drawn there by a spell. He was in the front yard now, looking up at the ominous lair of the old ghost. The door seemed like it was inviting him to open it. Kevin slowly filled with determination, walking up the front steps and onto the porch. He wanted that ball back, and no stupid story was going to keep him from taking back what was his. Without thinking, he opened the door.

The rooms were old, yet neat. The wooden walls reeked of old mold and plants. There were multiple chairs and couches throughout the room, and they all looked worn, as if they had been used millions of times. A massive chandelier hung from the middle of the room, looming over Kevin like a hawk to a mouse. At the end of the room, a staircase spiraled up to the second floor. Kevin began to creep forward, leaning away from the peeling wallpaper that smelled of dried herbs and weeds. As he made it to the top of the staircase, he heard a tapping sound. The noise got progressively louder as he reached the top of the stairs. When he reached the sole room at the top, he saw an old man. He was not a ghost, he was not in multiple bloody pieces, he was simply sitting on a red leather chair, holding the ball in his hands. As Kevin saw the man, he gasped, and the old man looked up.

“Does this ball belong to you?” The old man uttered curiously. His beard nearly reached his belly, and his eyes were glossy and tired, almost depressed. Kevin couldn’t speak. He just nodded.

The old man dropped the ball to the floor, rolling it slowly over to Kevin’s feet. Kevin sat and watched until the ball hit his toes, then snapped back to reality and knelt to pick it up.

“Are you.. the Cleavered Man?” Kevin asked slowly. He didn’t want to sound rude, but he was very curious.
“Is that what they call me? Heh!” The old man cackled, and then winced as if he had had a small heart attack. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“What happened to your daughter? My friends told me that she killed you with her cleaver.”

The old man straightened up. “That’s not precisely what happened. She..” He hesitated, as if he didn’t know how to say this. “.. was on drugs. A lot of them. When I threatened to call the cops on her, she said she was going to leave. She packed some her things, including her meat cleaver I had given her for her new job. As she walked out of the door, the cops caught her.” A tear trickled down his face, and he didn’t stop it, letting it hit the ground. “And now she’s gone.”

“My friends told me that she was covered in blood.” Kevin crossed his arms inquisitively.

“Lies! How would they know? They weren’t even alive!” The man looked angry now, and Kevin decided it was time to leave.

He looked at the ground, ashamed of his false perceptions of the poor man. “I’m very sorry that all of this happened to you, sir.”

“It’s not your fault. Run along, now. And..”

Kevin stopped by the top of the stairs.

“..oh, never mind. Everybody probably thinks I’m some sort of demon or ghost now anyways. Nobody will ever know I’m just a person like you.”

Kevin looked into the man’s eyes. “I’ll know.”

The old man glanced up from his lap. “Thank you. You have a good night, boy.”

“You too.” Kevin replied, and with that, he walked out of the house and into the autumn night. As he was walking back, the air didn’t feel as cold. He looked back up at the house. The looming building didn’t feel as scary. And when the figure darted into view from the window again, he smiled and gave it a little wave.

He couldn’t see it, but he felt the figure smiling back.