3: Part One: Haunted House

A Boy Upstairs

Friday, October 31st. Past Eight Thirty.

I follow beside Jared straight down to the end of Main St as he continues talking about this strange grey house. Back and forth between the boys, I'd hear them argue over what exactly they saw, along with theories about what it could have been. I gave up five minutes ago trying to throw logic into that argument when Jared began to consider Max's red eyes story. Then he starts bringing up the cryptid Mothman. I pointed out that Mothman originated in West Virginia, along with it already being proven false. The sighting of Mothman had to be either a sandhill crane or a type of owl that gives off red eyeshine in the dark when you flash your light at it. I had to stop myself before I got too deep into my knowledge of cryptids. Usually, I speak to Alex about my interests, but he hasn't been around lately. I try to push those thoughts far away, preferring not to have my emotions spill out in front of everyone.

Eventually, we all turn left on Belmont St, where I find myself treading through an unpaved road. The houses here are already dark, leaving the only trail of light to follow from the looming streetlamps under the eerie glow of the full moon. I begin counting the lamps as we pass as a way to block out the boy's conversation. One... four...six, seven, eight.

The last streetlamp is dark. Below unearths the beginning of Brickfield Road where Alex and Eva stood waiting. I can hear them speaking quietly, but I can't see their faces. A bright light all of a sudden appears ahead, cutting through the dark like an electric torch or blade that's directed right at us. There's a soft click from Jared's direction, and suddenly he's welding the same light from his hand. Feeling like a fool after realizing the two boys were using flashlights, I suddenly wish I had brought one myself.

Once we've caught up to them, Jared and Alex take the lead. One at a time, we all crawl over the gate that blocks off the road. Once everyone is on the other side, we head down the road together. The first half mile down the road is nothing but trees on either side and the utter silence besides our footfall. There should be a creek somewhere further down, but I'm not hearing any moving water. No one speaks a word even when the first few houses come into view. The streetlamps are all dark here, possibly dormant from when the fires were still burning. I've never seen any light here, making me wonder if the power lines on this road were all cut to avoid a power outage to the rest of the town. Not entirely sure of the reasoning.

The snow here is ankle-deep, covering the entirety of this street in some form of a muffled blanket. I can almost imagine the abandoned buildings lighting up in a warm orange glow, inviting me to step inside. Instead of warmth and comfort awaiting inside the houses, I suspect a chilled wind rushing through the cracked window stirring up left behind shadows of haunted memories and ghosts who cry out a silent plea with no one watching. No one cared enough to step inside and set them free. Memories of cold wintery nights spent huddled up at the kitchen table and drinking hot chocolate with Eva and our mother flood my mind. I can almost smell the sweet scent mixing with marshmallows from her favorite set of mugs. The light switches were taped down and we'd pretend we were travelers lost in a blizzard who'd taken shelter in an abandoned house, using a lantern to keep the shadows away and thick blankets to keep us warm. A swift cold wind whirls underneath my hide, making all aches of me shiver, and all the warmth from that memory is taken from me in an instant. All at once, reality hits me and feels a lot colder than the wind and snow.

"There's the house! The grey one over there," Jared announces and points towards the second to last house on the right corner before the road leads right. I imagine the house sits close to the dike beside the creek, and if it weren't for the pine trees and thick dead grass blocking my view, along with not being able to see much in general, I would have been able to see further into the woods. As we approach the front yard, I take a gander past what's left of a small picket fence to try and observe the front porch. A twinge of annoyance tugs in my gut, thinking how stupid it was to leave my glasses at home. If I wasn't so stubborn, I'd be able to do a lot right now.

"Alright, who's willing to go inside first?" Jared asks in a challenging tone.

No one responds. "Really? Come on, you sissies! Are you really that scared?"

"If you're so confident, why don't you go inside first?" I declare while crossing my arms.

He scoffs, "Because I'm the guy waiting outside ready to save your asses." Slasher boy pulls up the bag again as if all our means of survival depended on whatever he held inside the damn thing. This time he unzips it, and before he even pulls it out, I can hear the metal clink of chains sliding and hitting against solid iron. A chill creeps over my skin, but it isn't brought on by the cold. He's more than a fool if it's what I think it is.

I gasp, "You brought a bear trap? Are you stupid?"

"Relax, I know how to use it. I've been on a lot of hunting trips with my dad."

"If you think you're going to place that somewhere in the dark while it's snowing with the rest of us wondering around here, then you're a damn fool. More than that even! You're insane!"

"Hey! I'm not going to place it right now! I'll wait until we leave."

"You're an idiot," I grumble.

"Well, this 'Idiot' dares Monster to go inside the haunted house and retrieve something worthy. The bear trap is for later."

I feel the touch of Alex's arm brush against me as he steps in and answers Jared, "Don't worry, we'll all be careful." I can see the lack of worry in his eyes being this close. Instantly my cheeks burn, but not because of Alex. This was stupid, all of it. Alex can't be this stupid enough to follow along with it. I look down at Eva who's eyeing the bear trap like a cursed object not to be messed with.

"You know what? Fine. I'll go in, but only if Alex handles the bear trap until I come back out." I shove past them, reaching for the damned iron trap and taking it from the slasher boy's hands.

He only laughs, as if this whole situation was funny to him, "You honestly think I'm going to use a bear trap on you, Monster?"

At this point he seems stupid enough to try something as dangerous, "I know you'd be stupid enough to try. But then again you can't even shoot a damn squirrel without heaving your guts, let alone commit a murder, but accidents do happen. I think I'd rather try to avoid that," I finish and give the bear trap over to Alex, "I just feel a lot better If I knew Alex was holding it. That's all." Alex raises a brow but says nothing to my comment.

"Fair enough, I guess," Jared mutters before backing away.

"And find something worthy, huh?" I snarl at him, "You'll be lucky if I don't find something to physically harm you with after this." Jared nodded, suppressing the laugh threatening its way past his throat.

I give my sister one final glance, still seeing the worry in her eyes. It seems like she wants to tell me something, but nothing comes out. I give her a small smile, "It'll be ok. I'll be back before you know it, Eve. Alex will stay with you until I'm back out." With that said, I turn and head for the front porch. I can't deny feeling a shiver at the thought of bugs and spiders infesting the house, but I take a long breath remembering it's far too cold for anything like that to survive.

I try the front door first finding it either locked or stuck. The boys snickering behind me prod at my nerves. I feel the heat surging to my cheeks as anger burns alongside embarrassment.

"Hey Monster! Forgot to mention the doors to the house are both stuck, but one of the back windows is open!"

I roll my eyes and mumble curse words to myself, "Yea, thanks for sharing that specific detail."

"What was that?" He hollers.

Whipping back around I face Jared with a forced grin, responding in pure sarcasm, "I said what would I do without you, Jared!" Glancing over him, I spot Alex and Eva standing a bit away from the crowd watching me. Their figures were blurred, but for some strange reason, I felt as if Alex was on edge. I shrug the feeling off as my own uneasiness. Most likely he was comforting Eva. I smile at them before disappearing around back in search of this open window.

Reaching down into my pocket I grab my phone and turn on the flashlight to see where I'm going. Shining a light doesn't exactly help improve my vision, but at least I'm not walking around in pitch blackness. Well, kind of anyway. Not to self, phone lights are shit when used in total blackness. With one hand feeling the side of the house as I walk, I shine my light at every window I come across until I greet the back porch. I climb the steps half-blind; my eyes following close to what visibility the light provides, and then I heard glass cracking beneath my shoes. I look straight down, silently thanking myself for wearing my hard boots instead of my other pair of shoes. I angle the phone light closer to the porch floor as I crouch down. Shards of glass speckle the ground over shallow snow. It doesn't look like it's been there very long either. Damn fools. I follow to the window where the glass had been shattered.

"Christ, Jared." Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I use the back of my cloak to push more of the glass shards out of the window before stepping through. Despite my efforts at being careful, I feel a shard of glass cut its way through my jeans piercing the right side of my leg. I gasp, nearly falling halfway through. Instead, I manage to find my footing just in time as my hand caught onto what felt like damp fur covered in a thick layer of dirt. While hopping a few times away from the window I finally get my injured leg through before leaning on the object that caught me. I pry the phone back out from my pocket, first glimpsing at what I currently am sitting on to be a torn-up couch. For a split second, I imagined it was a dead animal I was sitting on, and exhaled. I turn my attention back towards my leg and the tear in my jeans now oozing fresh blood. A small piece of glass had broken off during contact with my leg and is barely sticking out of the cut. Using my free hand, I pull the glass shard out and mutter a few curse words involving young boys and haunted houses.

For a moment I'm tempted to just turn back on behalf of my leg that is still bleeding, but something on the floor catches my attention. I flash the light down at the glass shards noticing blood covering a good portion of them, and bloody footprints from the shape. Guiding the light over them curiously I follow the trail to a staircase. The prints lead upstairs. It couldn't possibly be real. These idiots were messing with me, using fake blood as a way to lure me up to a room where they'd have a 'surprise' waiting for me. How predictable. I set the phone down on the steps before angling the light towards me, and continue to rip off a piece of cloth from my shirt to wrap around my leg. It's not ideal but it'll have to do until I get home.

Returning the phone to my hand, I head upstairs in eerie silence. The floorboards did not so much as whisper beneath my soles. In fact, the whole house became still, as of when I couldn't tell. Or maybe I've become suddenly deaf. Just another inconvenience to add to my growing list of problems if that were the case. However, a human noise broke through the silence at the top of the stairs. There led to a hallway into three other rooms, where the muffled crying was coming from. The door to the end of the hall was partly open, most likely the source of the crying.

Every step near the doorway brought me closer to the one responsible for the sound, and despite what I already assumed to be another prank, deep down I could feel a shiver of uneasiness creeping its way up. With only a few more steps closer to the door that feeling only deepened. The blood trail led to the room where the crying was coming from. As if it were out of habit, I shielded my light not wanting whoever was inside to see me before I could see them. That same feeling tugged harder in my gut when my hand made contact with the door. Slowly my fingers outlined deep gorges within the wood, tracing at least four as long as my forearm and close to the width of my wrist. The shape of the marks felt oddly familiar, but they were far too large to be made from a bear. The wood in itself felt smooth and brittle in its center, possibly from rot...or...

I drew my hands back, feeling the dark powdery substance between each of my fingers. A memory of a fireplace worked its way through my thoughts as I recalled the charcoal left over from the burning wood. How could I forget about the fires that happened here? The door had been scorched, that was clear now, but if the whole house had been on fire at one point, no matter how little the damage, the house would make noise. Why is the wood so quiet? The sudden fear of falling through the floorboards struck a nerve causing my heart to pound a bit harder in my chest. If I hadn't fallen through yet, that doesn't mean the possibility is less likely, and I'm never that lucky. I contemplate turning back and forgetting about this entire dare. There is still time. It's not worth risking my life either, so that's a valid reason. But I can't say I'm not curious. That soft crying, the blood, and hell, even this damn house. It's all prodding me, tempting my curiosity, and damned me to hell for wanting to know who the hell is crying.

I push open the door as slowly as physically possible, surprised that it didn't creak. The utter silence, brought on by the house, made my heart race rapidly in my ears in tune with the weeping that continued undisturbed. The room was too dark to see any furniture or anyone even if I was wearing my glasses. I took one step in, pausing half a heartbeat before taking another few steps. Whoever was crying hadn't noticed me yet, but it was only a matter of time. Unless they did know I was here, just waiting for the right moment. A sharp chill descends through me as my eyes strain to adjust to the darkness. A dark silhouette stirs, sobbing softly in the far corner of the room. I take shallow breaths through my mouth trying my hardest not to make a sound. Uncovering my phone slowly, I shine barely enough light to catch a glimpse of a figure hunched over in the corner. So far, I hadn't been discovered. It was a boy I didn't recognize. He held his head low, having it buried beneath his arms as if he didn't wish to be seen. I raise the light a little further to see more of him as I took another step forward. He's still crying but doesn't move. I took in what I could see. His skin showed darkly through tattered clothes too thin for cold weather. His hair was a mess too, either in tangles or thick curls extending well past his shoulders. My gaze travels down to the floor and stops. His feet were bare and filthy, and... bleeding?

Certainly, my eyes were playing tricks on me, or of course, my vision had a play in this nonsense. It couldn't be blood, or at least real blood, but the longer I stare at the trembling boy huddled in the corner the more real everything suddenly became. Maybe this wasn't a prank. Little alarm bells began flaring inside my head, but I can't convince my body to move. As if some unseen force left me completely paralyzed. All I can do is stand with my eyes glued to the corner, waiting for something to happen. Moments start to pass, I'm not sure how long, but the figure never seems to notice me. Maybe they don't know I'm here. I just need to back away now and they wouldn't suspect a thing. Would they? What if this person was the shadow the boys had seen in the house earlier? Maybe he was homeless?

And maybe he's carrying a weapon and is a serial killer. Blood pounds hard in my ears, sending warmth all through my face, to the ears and neck. This is nonsense. He's just a boy, and I've had my fair share of fights with boys.

The boy whispers something and I find myself taking another step closer, listing hard to the words under his breath. He's repeating something. I take another step. Then it clicks.

This was a mistake.

What could he possibly mean by that? Instead of leaving the room like any sane person, I do the most stupid thing my brain has convinced my body to do since the time I asked Kevin Fisher to the movies thinking he was flirting with me. I draw my phone out fully, letting the light banish all the shadows disguising him. Skin the color of ash sends me spiraling back as a sharp gasp leaves my throat.

The boy's head snaps upright in an instant, in a terrifying demeanor, and for a heart-pounding second the most vibrant red eyes lock onto mine. They glowed like an owl's eyes when headlights reflect them in the darkness. Then they're gone along with the boy possessing them. My phone hit the floor seconds after, but I don't reach for it. I don't need light to know where the boy ran to.