Alex watched Clint disappear through the hatch as the wall pressed in again.
“Looks like we’re moving forward.” Defeat washed over Alex.
Once again, the house had pushed them in the direction it wanted the group to go. Were there any choices?
On the other side of the door, the girl Alex had always seen as his bratty pain-in-the-ass little sister, softened and ran to Clint’s side. He was sitting on the floor, Indian style, mumbling and shaking his head, with his hands still clasped over his ears and eyes shut tight.
In that moment, Heather reminded Alex of their mom as she gently pulled Clint’s hands away from his ears and held them in hers.
She whispered, “It’s okay. You don’t have to see it anymore. We’re in a different room. Look.”
How many times had their mom used that tone on them when they were hurt or scared or upset? Like magic, it always worked, and it was no different this time with Heather. She channeled their mom's soothing ways. A sense of pride washed over Alex as his sister cooed to Clint.
Clint slowly lifted his head, opened his eyes, and looked straight at Heather. She smiled and nodded, releasing his hands. As Clint climbed to his feet, his face was twisted in agony and his eyes were still full of tears.
“Did you guys hear him?” he asked. “Couldn’t you? He was calling out. I thought maybe…maybe he might still be alive. Didn’t you hear him?” His mouth drooped. “He was calling out.”
Heather pulled him in for a hug. “He wasn’t. It was the house. It’s messing with you.” She rubbed his back. “I’m sorry, we didn’t hear it. None of us did. Did we?” She turned back to the others.
Alex shook his head. “It was just you, man.”
Reid nodded. “I didn’t hear it either.” He stepped forward and put a hand on Clint’s shoulder. “The house, the creature, was messing with you. Messing with us. I dunno, maybe trying to get us to separate. Get you back in the room and leave us in the hallway. But Danny’s gone.” Reid choked on the last words. He wiped at his nose and stepped back, stiffening.
“I don’t blame you guys,” Clint said. “I woulda been scared, too. Like, shitting-my-pants scared.”
Heather’s tone remained cool, soothing. “What do you mean?”
“When I came through the window and my shoe was off, and that creature was so close. I think it pulled my shoe off. At first, I thought it had me. Had my foot. That maybe it touched me, marked me, and I was a goner. And then you all looked at me like that. Like I was some dead man walking. You wouldn’t come near me or touch me in case I was infected.”
Clint was right and Alex knew it. They were afraid. At least, he was. The guilt hit him and he looked away.
Clint’s words came out soft like a shy child. “But I wasn’t. I told you.”
Alex still couldn’t look at him. His eyes stayed glued to the floor. That old wooden floor. It looked familiar. Alex lifted his head to see that they were inside the same four walls as that first room they’d walked into. Same fireplace. Yet different.
As if in response to his thoughts, the fireplace came to life, a flicker blooming into a flame.
“Hey, guys,” Alex said. “We’re back to where we started. Kinda.” He pointed to the walls, where there were now no cobwebs, no dust bunnies lying in the corner. The table wasn’t on its side, but upright. The stools were righted and placed alongside the table. Everything looked clean. Warm and inviting, even. A soft glow from the fireplace lit up the room.
“Whoa, it’s like we went back in time or something,” Reid said.
Heather took a deep breath. “Does anyone else smell that?”
“Smells like…food.” Reid clutched his belly.
Alex’s stomach growled. How long have we been in here, anyway?
Wonderful images of a pot boiling over the fire jumped into Alex’s head. Meat and vegetables, perhaps celery, carrots, onions and potatoes all simmered. Food.
“What’s going on in here?” Reid walked closer to the fire. “I swear somebody’s making dinner. This is super fucked.”
Alex moved up beside him, stealing a glance into the fireplace, but there was nothing there. Just the fire. No pot. No dinner.
As strange as it all was, this was the least afraid he’d been since entering the house. The room, the fire, the tempting scents of stew wrapped around him like a soft blanket. For a moment, he could relax and take a deep breath instead of fearing when and from where that creature might come next.
He sighed.
And then the voices and shadows started.
First, it was a voice, low and muffled. A man. “He is not well. And he’s not getting any better…”
And then a woman’s voice. “He’s fine, he’s fine. You worry too much.” She coughed.
While searching the room for a sign, Alex’s eyes failed him.
He looked to Clint, whose eyes grew wide as he muttered, “But you do hear that, right?” He clutched his ears again. “No more. Please.”
Heather put a shaky hand on his shoulder and brought her other hand up to her lips in a shushing gesture. She got his attention and nodded.
Clint wasn’t crazy. They’d all heard it. But why were they hearing it? Perhaps these ghosts were trapped here forever, after their deaths. Alex shuddered.
The man said, “He’s not fine. And now you’re ill as well.”
Alex kept searching for where the voices were coming from.
The woman’s voice sounded raw, like she had a sore throat. “The doctor said it shall pass.”
A flash of light, like a momentary reflection of sunlight off a window, drew the group’s attention to the same spot—the bench by the fire. A translucent figure of a woman appeared. Soft, light, and hazy. She wore a long pale gown, her hair pulled back in a bun. She looked like the woman they’d seen in the picture, when they heard the baby crying.
In her arms, a blurry shape of a body appeared. A baby. She cradled it against her chest.
The man’s shape also began to appear. His form was darker and more solid. His eyes were like two lumps of coal, dark and empty. “The doctor doesn’t know. I saw the way he looked at you. He lied. He was afraid.”
“Of what, dear husband?” She bent forward and placed a kiss on the baby’s forehead.
“To catch his death from you both.”
“Nonsense.” She turned her head and coughed, a painful, wet sound. “Just stir the stew. We need a little warm food.” She hugged the baby closer to her chest.
“You haven’t kept anything down. Nor the baby.” The figure of the man stepped closer, walking right by the kids, oblivious to their presence. His footsteps creaked upon the floorboards.
“My fever is much improved already.” She lifted her head to him and smiled.
Alex could tell she’d lied. Felt it like pinpricks racing across his skin. Her sickness, even as a ghostly vision, was palpable.
The man reached out a hand and touched her cheek. “I fear death is looming, hovering over this house, you and the child. Watching, waiting—”
“Shush. No more. Death comes for us all, some time. Though, I feel this is not our time. But when it does comes, I will meet it.” Her eyes looked exhausted.
Behind her, the fire burned brightly, casting shadows across the walls. Alex hoped his eyes were playing tricks on him as he watched shrouded wispy shapes dancing, turning and twisting around each other in the shadows.
The man’s voice boomed, growing louder with each word and shook the floor. “I cannot abide. I will not.” He scowled and stormed away, each footstep rattling Alex’s teeth. And then the man disappeared.
The woman turned toward the group and her appearance shifted. She no longer held the baby. Her hair was disheveled and fell around her shoulders in sections, while some of it was still pinned into the bun. Her dress was too big. It hung from her body, making her appear to be made of skin and bones. She slowly raised herself up to a standing position. She took a few steps toward the group, looking them over one by one.
Alex was sure he should’ve been afraid of her, some sort of ghost looking straight back at him, but he wasn’t. He felt sorry for her. She had a soft, motherly air, with concern and kindness in those tired eyes.
The closer she got, the more her outline disappeared. Her dress, her hands, her hair and face still there but losing form.
She lifted one hand out to Alex. “Death comes for us all, some time.”
The woman faded away into nothing, but the weight of her words remained long after.