The House Comes With a Hobgoblin
By: Judith Valentijn
Tags: Prose, Creative Writing, Fiction, Fantasy, Short Story

My strokes were lacking passion and purpose, so I cleaned my brushes and walked into the kitchen. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened at the knitting store and decided to see if Google could give me any information about Heather Hollingsworth.

An hour later, I was driving back into town. My head was spinning. Now I understood why my house had been so cheap; it was cursed. The Hollingsworths had owned the cottage for two centuries, and multiple family members had died in or around the house. After Heather disappeared, it was abandoned.

When the old lady saw me, she quickly wheeled away. Without hesitating, I followed her into a small livingroom, separated from the store by a dusty curtain.

“The house has been abandoned for 80 years. But when I moved in, it was in an impeccable condition. Why?”

She avoided eye contact.

“I’ve read about Heather and her family — I need to know if my life is in danger. If something happens to me, you are complicit.”

With a big sigh, she started talking. “The house was abandoned by Heather’s family. But not by the hobgoblin. It has always been his house. He didn’t mind the Hollingsworths’ living there, as long as they fed him and didn’t annoy him. But in every generation, someone was determined to claim sole ownership of the house and get rid of the hobgoblin.”

She paused and took a sip of water. Her hand trembled as she lifted the glass to her lips.

“Heather’s father was a pigheaded man who refused to learn from his ancestors. His grandfather had died, trying to defeat the hobgoblin. Everybody pleaded with him to let it go. You see, having a hobgoblin in your house is a good thing. He will help you out with chores, and all he wants in return is food. They aren’t picky eaters. Anything that is prepared with love and attention will do.”

So my cooking wasn’t the reason he didn’t touch my plates. I make all my meals with love and attention.

“The hobgoblin was fond of Heather. While she slept, he would clean her room, line up her toys, and iron her clothes. He wasn’t bothering anyone. But her father didn’t like the idea of the hobgoblin hanging around his sleeping child. He was afraid the hobgoblin would do something to her. And in the end, he did, but only because he was provoked.” A small tear meandered down her cheek.

“At first, Hollingsworth refused to feed the hobgoblin. The hobgoblin retaliated by leaving rotting food in shoes. Second, he left out clothes for the hobgoblin, which is a grave insult. You see, they run around naked because the idea of clothing is incredibly offensive to them. The hobgoblin still kept Heather’s room impeccable but started messing with the rest of the house. There was dirt in the kettle, dead mice in the rice, and bugs in the tobacco.”

I could feel the tiny hairs in my neck stand up. I prayed that I hadn’t done anything yet to offend this creature.

Her voice breaking, the old lady continued her story. “Everything escalated because of the traps. Her father wanted to catch the hobgoblin and kill him. He would set out a plate of food on the kitchen counter and set up traps on the floor. He would put food outside at the edge of the forest, and set up traps there too.”

Now she was crying without restraints. I asked her if she wanted to stop, but she shook her head.

“I was there that night. Heather had invited me for a sleepover. In the middle of the night, someone woke us up and grabbed us by our wrists. It was a tiny muscular hairy man-creature. I immediately knew it was the hobgoblin, so I didn’t struggle. He dragged us outside into the forest. But he was surprised by one of the traps.”

She slowly moved the blanket from her lap and gestured at her legs. Below the knee, her left leg was missing.

“I’ve never seen such a frenzy of rage. He pulled open the trap and released me. I was bleeding so much; I lost consciousness. Heathers’ parents found me and took me to a doctor, too late to save my mangled leg. Heather and the hobgoblin were never seen again.”