The House That Fed

  

The stars of the night sky weren’t visible with the airspace full of thick, grimy smoke. It billowed from the burning house below. The flames roared and the wood of the old house crackled and popped. A man stood a good distance away watching it burn. The surrounding trees remained untouched beyond that of a burnt leaf here and there. The inferno towered the man, who didn’t move from his footing no matter the heat or the large falling embers. The black cloud of smoke above continued to swell. The fire raged on with no sign of dying out and the man looked intent on watching until it did so. He could hear the screams coming from within and didn’t so much as raise a hand to put the fire out, nor did he go in. The screams, faint squealing and guttural roars. He stood close enough to feel the heat, cooled only by the notion of survival. Burning limbs flailed under his watch matching the painful yelling behind the wall of flames. The man watched alone as his past, present, and future burned to the ground.

  

  

THE HOUSE THAT FED

Christopher Michael Carter

CHAPTER ONE

The florescent lights ignited, illuminating the white tile-walled room. Besides the wooden table and chairs in the center of the room, it was vacant. It smelled of disinfectant and had been recently mopped. The last of the lights flickered to completion, their hum practically sung in the room's vacuum silence. Not long after, the door opened and, breaking the monotony of the lonesome room, a guard entered followed by a peculiar looking man and another guard, in that order. While the guards wore their uniform blues, the man wore a disheveled tuxedo, dirty and wrinkled, with his shoes scuffed and tattered. They brought him in with his hands cuffed in front of him and sat him in a chair. The table in front of him showed signs of wear and scratching on its polish. The chair was sturdy enough, but hard, not that the man had noticed in his current state.

One guard left the room while the other posted up in the corner. The man in custody wanted to ask the guard what this was all about and why he was here but expected silence as an answer so he kept his silence in advance. His hair, short and dark, was a mess that complimented the dark circles around his eyes. His handcuffs tapped on the table in a frantic yet steady pace as his hands rocked. He was shaken up, appearing cold and fidgety, as if he hadn’t slept for days. His eyes scanned left to right, right to left. No decor, no windows. One of the four walls was a mirror, a two-way mirror he assumed. The man pulled his hands off the table, his shackles dragging along the surface, and put them in his lap briefly in hopes to stop the shaking. He looked up and saw himself in the mirror, reminding him of the night he'd endured that brought him to such an appearance, but also wondered who was watching him on the other side.

And he was watched. Two detectives, black and nicely dressed, in their mid-forties stood behind the glass, talking and watching the room. Their faces didn’t match their attire as their sour looks gazed into the interrogation room. Detectives Burke and Dunn had known each other for some time, working up the ranks together. Normally they'd be in questioning by now but they awaited a guest. They had both locked eyes with the man without his knowing. They seemed to steam the more they waited. Detective Burke took out a piece of gum and immediately began chewing before holding up another piece to his partner. Dunn barely raised his hand with a shake of his head while his eyes never left the man. Burke checked his watch before rejoining Dunn's view.

“His name is Henry Werner.” Detective Burke told his partner.

“Think he’ll give us anything?” Detective Dunn asked.

“Hard to say.” Burke answered.

Though they spoke to each other, their eyes didn’t leave Henry, still shaken up and alone in the little box of a room. They eyed his actions but only saw the likes of a scared and wounded animal. Their piercing looks examined him awaiting further signs of suspicion while periodically looking at one another.

The door opened briefly as the standing guard stepped over to retrieve a white cup. He walked over and set cup of coffee on the table in front of Henry, steaming in the cool room, before walking back to the corner of the room beside the door. Though he no doubt had questions himself, he remained silent and stood his post after looking at the mirror and his superiors behind it.

“Th-Thanks. Thank you.” Henry nodded and leaned forward blowing on the coffee, his cuffed hands barely touching the cup.

A man entered the room and greeted the guard with a nod. He was an older gentleman with a gray sweater jacket on, going well with his gray slacks, looking like a librarian and far from the likes of the officers that brought Henry in. Under his arm was his binder of work, a collection of file folders and notebooks. He stopped at the table, looking down upon the man who was almost too scared to return the look. Burke and Dunn looked at the mild mannered gentleman and then to each other with muted scoffs.

“Hi Henry, I’m Dr. Francis Turner.” He greeted.

“Uh, hi.”

He extended his hand and Henry raised his hands to meet. They shook hands as Dr. Turner looked at the cuffs.

"Uh, could we..." He motioned to the cuffs, looking at the guard.

The guard looked at the mirror uncertain before hesitantly uncuffing him. Burke and Dunn sighed and groaned.

"Yeah, no need for those. We'll be fine."

Dr. Turner set his binder down on the table and pulled his chair out. He sat down and scooted his chair in to join Henry, who rubbed his wrists.

“I’m here to talk to you about your experience.” Dr. Turner said looking him over. “You certainly look like you’ve had one.”

“Y-yes.” He answered in a stutter before taking a sip of his coffee, hands now free.

“Looks like you got something to drink.” Dr. Turner noticed before looking to the guard. “Can I get some too please? Thanks.”

The guard nodded and went to the door, opened it and peeked his head out to make the request.

“Uh, cigarette?” Dr. Turner offered.

“N-n-no thanks. I don’t smoke.” He said, still shaken.

“Me neither. My wife does though, like a chimney. I’m always trying to get her to quit. I’ll say, ‘Hey, when are you going to stop smoking?’ and she’ll come back with, ‘When are you gonna eat my meat loaf?’ Heh, touché huh?”

Turner chuckled telling his story in hopes to lighten the mood so the man they picked up would comply. Henry didn’t join in; he was still wondering why he was there, and it showed.

“Heh…yeah.”

Henry looked confused, cold, and a little creeped out. His thumbs twirled with his fidgety hands. The guard was handed a second cup and the door shut. He brought it to the doctor and retreated back to his corner to stand with one hand over the other down in front of him. Dr. Turner’s wristwatch and wedding band stuck out from his otherwise bland appearance. He stirred his coffee, took a sip, and set the cup down beside his binder before giving the guard another nod.

“Ah, thanks. Now Henry, why don’t you tell me what happened?” Dr. Turner asked, reaching for his coffee once more.

“I can’t explain it. I don’t kn-kn-know where to start.” Henry struggled to get the words out and shook his head in frustration.

“Well, I was told you spoke of a house, so... let’s start with the house.”

Dr. Turner opened his binder and removed the notebook to begin writing. The clicking of his pen gave Henry a jump. Henry took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. He shook his hands about quickly before starting.

“It was my grandfather’s house.”

The doctor reached under his jacket and removed his glasses from his shirt pocket.

“Who was your grandfather?” He breathed on his lenses and gently wiped them before putting them on.

“Jack Werner. He was a locksmith and a carpenter. He built it…w-w-with his own two hands.” Henry answered, holding up his shaky hands.

Dr. Turner looked impressed.

“Ahhh, the house Jack built.” Dr. Turner nodded with a sly smirk.

“Y-y-yes.” Still a bit skittish, his nervous stutter would come and go.

“Well, why don’t you tell me about when you first moved in?”

“Okay. Our parents had just died earlier this spring…” Henry began.

A blue suburban home stood in what appeared to be a safe neighborhood complete with well-kept yards and no loose trash. Children played and rode their bikes. No stray animals roamed about, pets were kept on leashes if outside. Nearly every house on the block was a rental home. This house had a white door and white shudders, just like every other house in the neighborhood. The paint jobs seemed alternated down the block. This house had no curtains and a pickup truck out front with its bed half-full.

Inside, a young woman packed, placing her life into boxes. She'd just taken down the curtains and packed them. Karen was thin with brown eyes. She wasn't wearing makeup but the tear lines were obvious. The room was about done and already feeling vacant. The drawers to the dresser were open and freshly emptied. The door was open to the bare closet. Boxes lay around her legs as if she had tried to trace herself. The sun coming through the window was hitting the mirrors on the walls, helping light the room more, frequently glistening off of her wet face. The wallpaper was pinstriped with shades of blue and red, a stock pattern that would probably stay after they left and the For Rent sign came up. Henry returned from taking boxes out. Karen wiped and dried her eyes the best she could. The two looked at each other in silence. They both had a lot on their minds.

“You sure this is what we want to do?” Karen asked, unsure and trying not to cry again.

“Of course.” Henry shrugged. “Our own house, plus we already know the place.”

"Wait." She stopped and thought. "Are we being evicted?"

"No." He threw out quickly.

"Is that it? Are they kicking us out and this is your way of breaking it to me?" She was getting louder.

"Karen, no. It's like I said, it's our own place, no landlord's rules, and no rent. It'll be us in control. Plus, we just need this." He explained.

It was clear that Henry was excited about the change, and he was going to keep championing the idea until she felt the same.

“I know…it’s just weird.” She said pulling her hair behind her ear.

Karen stood around Henry’s height, with white skin and shoulder length black hair. She looked and felt uncertain of Henry’s plan. She was younger than Henry by a few years and they were definitely not seeing the move the same way. He was adamant.

“Look, Kare, I can’t stay here anymore.” He said motioning around them.

His t-shirt and jeans were dusty. He wiped sweat off his face with his sleeve.

“I know, I understand.” She nodded.

Surrounded by boxes she'd cried over, her clothes were not nearly as dusty as her brother's.

“And we can start over there; new friends, new times. We can meet people.” He explained with a smile.

It was clear to her that Henry didn’t get it. She'd seen him as only thinking of his wants and needs while her own weren’t being considered.

"I don’t want new friends. I like mine the way they are.” She stated.

“Well, that makes one of us.” He quipped sarcastically.

Henry moved for the bedroom door, his steps audible in the empty house.

“Hardy, har, har.” She mocked him.

“Well, hurry up, we wanna get there before dark.”

Henry left to take more boxes out to the truck. Karen’s frustration and sadness grew as she threw pieces of clothing down in a defeatist fashion.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.”

She closed the last box and rolled out the tape. Pressing the tape down, she looked around the room and the memories it held.

They left the house with the last of the boxes along with their luggage, black suitcases and dark blue duffle bags. Karen looked back at the house, dropped her bag, and began to cry. She wasn’t sobbing hysterically but tears were being shed and it seemed to aggravate Henry. He turned back to find her standing still with her head hung.

“What? What now?”

She cried and motioned towards the house with a wave of her arm.

“Are you sure we’re making a good choice? I mean, we grew up around here, Hank.” She said, wiping her eyes.

Henry placed his hands on her upper arms and looked her in the eyes.

“We’re gonna be fine. Don’t you think this is what mom and pop would want? It’s okay.” He said sincerely.

He hugged her, calming her down, before picking her bag up to carry it with his. One more look at the house and she followed.

They drove down the open road, leaving their old life behind. Silence was thick at first with the radio doing most of the talking. After a while conversation started. They kept it light and drama-free.

“It was such a long drive. I don’t even remember what we were talking about.” Henry explained.

The overhead florescent lights were harsh in the interrogation room, highlighting Werner's worn complexion.

“Were you talking about your parents?” Dr. Turner asked.

“N-n-no. We pretty much agreed not to talk about them.”

Dr. Turner nodded understandably.

"And how did they pass?"

"Wh-what?"

"Your parents. How did they die?"

"It was a...car accident. Hit by a drunk driver."

"Sorry to hear that. So there were no heated discussions on the way?”

“No. She slept most of the time.”

Hank rubbed his head and the back of his neck while Francis drank his coffee before setting his cup down.

“Had you and Karen fought a lot?” He picked his pen back up.

“About as much as a brother and sister normally do.” Henry shrugged.

The doctor nodded and wrote in his notebook then returned his attention to the shaken man.

“Alright, please…continue.”

Dr. Turner took another drink before getting back to his notes awaiting more of the story.

“Well, like I said, it was a long ride…”

The sun had retreated and night had fallen as they continued their trek down the highway, their cargo secure.

“Jeez, when was the last time we were even up here?” Karen asked.

“It was about fifteen years ago, Thanksgiving.” Her brother answered.

Karen was shocked and looked away from the moving countryside beyond the window and turned to him.

“How do you remember shit like that?”

“Certain events stick out in my head.”

Henry was a young boy when he walked into that dark kitchen to see his grandfather standing with his back to him. Henry could hear metal pings and shings and grew scared, his little heart pounding. The old man turned around wearing a bloody apron and holding a knife in each hand. He didn't seem fazed by the boy's presence as he smiled and held his arms out.

“Ah, Henry…”

Henry’s eyes were fixated on the road, growing longer and darker. Karen seemed more awake, livelier than earlier in the trip.

“Uh…huh…So mom and dad owned this place all along?" She asked.

“Yeah, tried to sell it after grandpa died but it had no takers. Nobody wanted it. Now we own it. I’ve been coming by for a while, but finally filled out the paperwork on it about a week ago.”

Their truck headed down the road, everything covered in navy blue the later it got into the evening. Not much to see for them on either side of the car; just wilderness. Traffic was light if any at all.

“So, is there gonna be anything to do there?” Karen questioned.

“Plenty.” He assured her. “The movers got a head start so our stuff should be there waiting for us.”

“Are we there yet?”

“Don’t start.”

The inside of a house was dark, vacant and still, but something was moving in the darkness. A green tint, scales and muscles, scurrying and slithering in the shadows. The jagged, dark green creature was shrouded in the blackness before it lunged.

“Henry?”

Henry was spaced out, blank, while the doctor awaited his attention. He waved his hand in front of Henry’s line of vision.

“Heeeenry?”

“Huh? Sorry.”

Dr. Turner tried to move past Henry’s space-out and prepped his pen.

“Then what happened?”

“Well, uh… well, uh, we arrived at the house.”

The house awaited in the quiet neighborhood. The grounds surrounding were wide with plenty of space and privacy. It didn’t look as though it had been abandoned for so long. The truck turned and pulled up into the driveway of their grandfather’s old property. After parking they both got out. Henry undid the tie-downs in the back while Karen stepped forward and stared at the house she hadn’t seen in years.

“Wow! It’s nice.” Karen said, surprised at what she was seeing.

“Yeah, but we might want to get our stuff inside. It’ll be too dark to see anything in about an hour.” Henry told her.

“Are there beds or what?” She looked over to him.

“Everything should be here. We may have to set some of it up.” He shrugged.

They entered the front door. The movers had left a light on as instructed. Boxes and boxes were stacked neatly to the side. Henry sat luggage down while Karen stopped and gasped, scanning with just the turn of her head. He watched her as she was struck in awe.

“Wow! You know, I don’t remember too much, but of what I can remember, it looks just about the same.”

“Yeah, well, I worked on it a little.”

Confused, Karen whipped her head over in his direction.

“See, when I found out that mom and dad owned it, I came here to find it not the same, like, at all. They had ‘freshened it up’ for potential buyers a long time ago, but nobody bit so it just sat here. So I worked on it and brought it back to the way it was.” He explained.

“Uh huh and why exactly would you want it back to the way it was?” She asked.

Karen was curious and slightly weirded out. Henry walked across the room looking at the house and turned on more lights.

“I don’t know really. Just more familiar I guess.”

“Okay, ‘cause like, if you remember, while this place was fun and all, it also scared the shit out of us.” She grinned.

Detectives Burke and Dunn entered the room quietly while Turner’s interest rose.

“Now wait a sec. If the house scared you, why would you make it look like it used to?” Dr. Turner shared Karen’s curiosity.

“I don’t know, really. Like I said, it was familiar. There was something like instinct, just told me I should restore house.”

“So you told her you’d just been looking at the house for a while when you’d actually been working on it?” Detective Dunn asked sternly.

“W-well yeah.” Henry shrugged.

“Detective, please.” Dr. Turner said with a hand out.

“So, did you realize what you were leading her into?” Burke asked.

“Wha-what are you trying to say?” Henry became defensive.

“Detectives, please!”

Frustrated, Burke patted Dunn’s arm and the two left the interrogation room and returned to watching behind the mirror. Dr. Turner sighed and redirected his attention to Henry.

“What’s th-their p-p-problem? I didn’t do anything.”

“It’s okay, Henry, they’re gone. Please, continue with what you were saying.”

Karen’s eyes examined her past and now present while Henry finished getting the lights.

“Eh, we were kids, we’re grown up now. I’m pretty sure it won’t scare us now.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” She said, unsure.

Karen continued her scan around the house. She viewed the walls of this rustic-meets-classic house. New yet familiar. Intoxicated by the feeling, she was in awe of what she felt and saw. She ran her hands on the wallpaper that featured…

“Roses and ivy…”

“That wasn’t easy to come by.” He pointed out.

“Oh? You did this too?” She turned to him.

Henry walked up alongside her looking at his handiwork.

“Yeah, I remembered it the best I could and searched for it. Most places I went to either didn’t have the right one or had discontinued it some time ago. So it took some hunting. The mirror, however, is the original mirror. Just had to get it cleaned.” He pointed to the large mirror above the fireplace.

Karen’s fingers ran along the roses and ivy, tracing them almost in a daze.

“It’s remarkable.” She said quietly.

She snapped out of it, inhaled, and turned to her brother.

“Let’s make a fire.” Karen smiled.

“Sounds good. I’m gonna get dinner started.” Henry said, carrying a big box of pots and pans into the kitchen.

“Thank God. I’m starving.”

An idea hit Henry upon setting the box down on the kitchen counter. He returned with his mood lightened.

“You know, I got a better idea. Go ahead and make the fire. I’ll just get some hot dogs after we bring in the rest of the stuff.”

She pulled herself away from the sights and went outside with him to finish unloading the truck.

Later in the night, the fireplace lit the dark living room. The large mirror above the mantle helped spread the light. The two sat on the floor amongst boxes, and luggage. Hot dogs were consumed and the siblings ate s’mores and laughed.

“Okay, what was one of the scariest things that’d happened to you here?” She asked, finishing her s’more.

“Like dream, or real?”

“Doesn’t matter.” She shook her head.

“Okay, well… Uh…”

He knew very well what the scariest thing was but struggled as to how to explain it while his sister grew impatient, rolling her eyes.

“Waiting…” She tapped her fingers on the floor.

“Remember how the basement light switch, going down there, was at the bottom of the steps instead of at the top?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, most of my freaky memories revolve around the basement. Ya know when we used to play downstairs until we were called up for dinner?”

“Yes, I do.”

“There were nights we left the lights on so I’d have to go down the steps and turn them off. The darkness down there always scared me. I always had the feeling there were things all around me waiting to pounce.” Henry stared into the fire and mentally retreated.

Little Henry Werner stepped down the staircase slowly, looking around the lit basement. It used to be a hub of entertainment for his grandparents back in the day. The bar was just around the corner from the bottom of the staircase. Beyond the bar was a backroom with its door always kept shut. To the right of the stairs, the rest of the basement was an accumulation of knickknacks from their grandparents’ travels. Leather couches for guests, random musical instruments, a clear vase full of seashells, and a vase full of matchbooks collected from assorted lounges and hotels. Henry looked around and saw where he and his sister played in the light. It looked innocent enough but the lights were on.

“Henry, let’s go!” His parents called from upstairs.

He swallowed as his little hand reached slowly for the light switch. He turned off the basement light as glowing eyes instantly opened all around him in the dark.

“Hank?”

Henry blinked and came back to reality.

“Sorry.”

“You were gonna say something?”

“Yeah, well…”

Young Henry left the guest bedroom he’d stay in when visiting, occasionally with their parents when they’d stay as well. The house was dark and everyone was asleep. He walked through the kitchen, across the hall from the pair of guest rooms and a bathroom.

“Well, one night I turned off the lights before going to bed. But when I got up to get a drink, I walked around to avoid going by the basement…”

There were two ways to the basement which were around through the living room and through the kitchen. Upon entering the small kitchen, which was complete with a breakfast nook and their grandmother’s deck of cards for her daily solitaire, there was a light on just around the corner from the fridge.

“I noticed a light on. I thought ‘there’s no way it could be the basement.’ Everyone else was asleep. I could have sworn I turned them out.”

“Well, where was it coming from?”

Not liking where he thought the light was coming from, Henry sighed and hung his head before investigating.

“I turn the corner to see where it was coming from and I looked down the long lit up staircase.”

The staircase seemed to grow before his eyes and the bottom became as black as oil.

“Yeah, it was the basement. So, not wanting to get into trouble, I went down to turn them off and when I got down there it was so cold.”

His breath was visible downstairs as he hurried to get to the lights. There was one behind the bar and then the one at the foot of the steps.

“I turned off one set of lights and just as I was about to turn off the others I felt something…”

The young Werner stood with his back to the darkness as green scaly hands with black talons began creeping up over his shoulders.

“…Like hands on my shoulders and a whisper, ‘Haaaaaaank’. I bolted, shutting the light off as I went and felt a brush at my feet, like whatever was down there just missed me.”

Dimly lit by the upstairs light, the boy ran up the stairs. Those green scaly arms with bumps and dark patches reached up for him quickly but just missed him.

“Damn.” Karen said.

The fire flickered and popped as Henry threw another log in the fireplace.

“I know. I’d seen glimpses of him before. Heard him. Felt him.”

“Him who?” Karen grew uneasy.

“He was covered in scales so I’d always just called him the Scale-Man to myself but never told anyone else about him. I don’t know why but I always believed he lived in that back room.”

“Hank,” Karen put a hand on his arm, “You know what this place did to us as kids. Played tricks on us. That room was just grandma’s laundry room and storage. It just didn’t look as nice as the rest of the house so they kept it shut. There is no Scale-Man. Just an overactive imagination fueled by too many comic books and monster movies.”

“Heh, yeah, I guess.”

Her facial expression changed from serious to a bit more playful, nudging him.

“You always were afraid the dark, though.” She smirked.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up.”

“Just joking. Well, while that sounds creepy and all I think mine tops it.” She sat up on her knees.

“Figures…” He rolled his eyes.

“Just listen.” She laughed. “Whenever we stayed here I’d have to stay in grandma’s doll room.”

“Eh, the doll room…” Henry shuddered at the thought.

“Yeah, and all those little fuckers managed to stare at me at once. One night I’m lying there in bed and they’re all up on the shelves…”

Their grandmother’s doll room often acted as a guest bedroom with the collection of dolls lined up on shelves around the room. A young Karen was restless in that very bed, tossing and turning. She’d roll over periodically to see the dolls sitting with still faces staring forward. Lifeless eyes on ghost-white faces forever eyeing the room. Upon turning over again, she found the doll shelf empty.

“Well I roll around trying to get comfortable and I turn back over and there’s nothing on the shelves. I sit up really fast and they’re all standing around the bed staring at me.”

Little Karen jolted up abruptly. While the shelf was bare, she was surrounded by the porcelain dolls. She got up and ran past them, knocking them over. Getting to the door too scared to scream only a half cry, half whimper came out.

“I jump up to scream but couldn’t, and run past them knocking them out of the way. When I get to the door I hurl it open, turn on the light and glance back and they’re all up on the shelves. I…”

Karen stood frozen in the doorway looking at the dolls resting on the shelves as her grandmother had placed them. Not a one staring at her or missing from its designated spot, they sat propped up looking blankly out into the room.

Young Karen’s face of fear faded as present day Karen’s face carried the same shock retelling the story, not blinking and emotionless.

“I tried to tell grandma and grandpa but they didn’t want to hear it.” She turned to Henry. “But I swear it happened.”

“What were you saying about overactive imaginations?” He smirked.

“Whatever. It was real.”

“Nice to know we’re back, huh?” He said, breaking the mood.

They laughed and she threw a marshmallow at him.

“This was always a cool place, it’s just better now minus the creepiness, and we get to control that.” She thought aloud looking around.

“Yeah. Exactly.” He smiled.

There was a slight moment of silence with the two in their own separate thoughts before…

“Sooo, been to the basement yet?” Karen asked.

“Ha, yeah.”

During his renovations, Henry was in the basement cementing over the blocks used to cover and fill the doorway to the backroom. His long sleeve white thermal shirt was covered in sweat and with his sleeves pushed up dust was caked to the hair on his forearms. Beneath the shirt were blue jeans, with a tool belt, and black work boots. Unlike the roses and ivy themed wallpaper throughout other parts of the house, the basement had a wood paneling pattern on the walls; nice, not cheap in any way. Not wanting to chance an encounter with the Scale-Man, he thought it best to close the room off.

“One of the first things I checked out when cleaning up the place.”

Henry jabbed at the burning embers with the poker and looked back and fired the same question back at her with a grin.

“And you?”

“Me what?”

“Have you been to the doll room yet?” He grinned.

“Oh, you mean the new storage room?” She laughed. “Yeah I went up there; nothing special.”

Just earlier, Karen entered their grandmother’s old doll room with trepidation. She looked around at the naked room and wondered how she could’ve been so terrified in her youth. As she set the bags down she heard a scattering, around and behind her. Karen took a deep breath and turned around to see nothing there and shook her head. She wanted to laugh at herself for her absurdity but the residual fear kept the laughter at bay. Karen left.

“Well, I’m gonna get some sleep so I can enjoy tomorrow.” Henry said, standing up.

“Eh, fuck that. I’m gonna be up a while checkin’ this place out.” Karen said.

Karen started getting up as well with different intentions.

“Just don’t be up too late.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, Hank.”

“Yeah, yeah, get some sleep.” Henry went upstairs.

Karen investigated their new home. The fire burned in its place, crackling.

CHAPTER TWO

Darkness overlapping darkness overlapping darkness. Screams echoed from somewhere in the distance.

“And what did she find?” Dr. Turner asked.

Henry awoke and the darkness peeled to become his new bedroom. The distant cries faded. He stretched and looked at the clock. The electric digits pulsed and fuzzed before flashing to the next minute. Henry rubbed his eyes and yawned before getting out of bed and standing up in his sleep pants and white t-shirt. He left his room with another yawn soon to come and walked downstairs. As he passed through the living room it was cold, and vacant of any hint of a recent fire. Heading for the kitchen, his feet stopped upon hitting the dining room.

To his surprise, his sister was sitting at the table. Henry looked Karen up and down in confusion as she sat still in the dark. Karen stared forward as he approached her left, stepping cautiously. She was wearing a torn pink tank top, a black miniskirt, fishnet stockings, and platform shoes. Karen still didn’t move. Pale, appearing strung out with, under her running makeup, sunken cheeks and dark circles embedded around her eyes.

“Haaaaank.” A dark, familiar voice said.

Karen turned to face him with hollow eyes. The right side of her face was covered by a large spider-like thing, white and translucent with long legs. Its body attached firmly to her temple. Its legs moved as if pulsating while its body dipped in repeatedly. It chewed and sucked as a tear fell from her eye and streamed over one of its limbs which gripped her face harder in return.

“Henry.” The voice said again.

In the blink of an eye, and just for a split-second, Henry saw the Scale-Man behind Karen with his devilish grin. A flicker of an image not long enough for him to get a good view of that which had tormented him for so long. The creature clasped to her face continued to feed. Karen gasped.

“Henry.” Dr. Turner’s voice echoed.

Henry came to in the interrogation room. Its brightness a stark contrast from the dark room, such as Dr. Turner’s face was from Karen’s. Henry’s hands shot up midrange in shock before his eyes briefly squinted adjusting to the light.

“Huh? I’m sorry.” He said snapping out of it.

Dr. Turner gave him a second. Detectives Burke and Dunn shook their heads and groaned.

“What is it she had found?”

“N-nothing. Nothing important. I woke up and she had made breakfast.”

Henry’s bedroom door opened and he stepped out eager to start the day.

“Karen, you up?” He asked down the hall.

With no reply, he went downstairs. Sunlight lit the house. Empty boxes lay broken down and he could hear noise coming from the kitchen, so he followed. Things were already unpacked and a hot meal was waiting. Henry was shocked but pleased.

“You’ve already got some things set up.” Henry said, surprised.

“Yeah well, I haven’t slept. I got to looking around and realized the potential this house had.” Karen looked up and around them.

“Yeah… Haven’t slept? Heh, you’ll be out tonight.” He said with a slight chuckle.

“Eh, I’ll take a nap later.” She shrugged handing him his coffee.

“Thanks.”

Henry joined her at the breakfast nook where a couple of plates were waiting.

“Mmm, bacon and eggs.” He smelled his plate.

“Yeah, the idea of cereal on the first morning here was boring.”

“No arguments here.” Henry was excited to dig into such a breakfast.

“Could I use the truck today?” She asked. “Go check out town and all.”

“I don’t see why not. I was just gonna work outside and all today.”

“Alright, great.”

Henry replaced the battery in his electric toothbrush and brushed his teeth. Karen could hear the buzzing and the water.

“Might wanna watch out with the water.” Her voice rang from the other room.

Henry froze in mid brush and looked down at the sink.

“Uh, why’s that?” He asked back.

“I don’t know. Something’s up with it.”

Henry rolled his eyes with irritation, almost releasing a sigh of relief that it was just Karen being Karen.

“Like what?”

“It smells weird and it feels weird.” She said.

Henry looked at himself in the mirror awaiting the rest of his brushing. He turned on the faucet and felt the water. He didn’t notice anything off.

“Feels weird? Probably just old pipes. We’ll call a plumber sometime.” He said loud enough for her to hear.

“All right, I guess.” Karen said after a pause.

Earlier, Karen had finished brushing her teeth when something wasn’t feeling right. Her tongue moved across her teeth doing its own investigation as she looked into the mirror at her mouth. After working her mouth a little she grabbed a tissue and spit into it, revealing what she had tasted amidst the mint of the toothpaste – blood. Karen picked up the bottle of mouthwash questionably and took a breath before taking a swig. It swished around in her mouth almost bringing her to tears. She spit it out with a stinging whimper.

Henry left the bathroom wiping his face off with a small towel.

“Yeah, it’s just the rust in the pipes.”

He walked into Karen’s room to find her standing up straight in the middle of the room and staring down at the floor. Completely still and silent. He watched for a moment bewildered, looking back and forth between her and the floor.

“Kare? Karen.”

It took a second but she was back with him.

“Yeah, what?”

Henry’s head cocked back. She became sharp so quick as if the weird, awkward moment hadn’t just occurred.

“You… okay?” He asked with questioning eyes.

“Psh, yeah. Yeah.” She scoffed.

Henry wasn’t sure if she was shrugging it off or if her answer was actually genuine.

“Heh, alright. So you goin’?”

“Yup.”

Down in the living room, Karen stood waiting at the door. Henry walked across the room to the bureau containing a tray of keys on top. He came back to her with the keys.

“Figured if we made sure to put them in the tray we’d never lose them.”

“Good idea.”

Henry walked back over to get his cup of coffee in the spacious home.

“Oh, and try to be back sometime tonight.” He was serious despite his smirk.

“Oh please.”

“I know how you are.” Henry nodded.

“I guh huh guh aw.” She mocked.

Karen left while Henry followed to the door.

“And in one piece, too.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

He drank his coffee looking outside while sunlight covered him.

The truck flew down the road. The music blasted and she was having a great time getting out on her own. She came fast around the curve.

“Woo!”

The song stopped as Karen still drummed on the steering wheel when a radio announcement was trying to come through.

“And in local news…”

“Local news… Yeah right.” Karen changed the station.

The sun shined. A great day for yardwork, not too hot and not too chilly, and despite all that had been done, Henry still had work to do on the property. Plenty of trees stood around the lengthy property line giving the area its share of shade. Hank walked around the house looking at the foundation. As he inspected the area, the curtains in the basement windows moved as he passed by them.

“Oh, well hey.” A voice caught Hank off guard.

Henry looked over to see an elderly black man a bit on the skinny side and just a few inches taller than Henry. He sported the lounging clothes of his retirement: shorts, deck shoes, an un-tucked button up t-shirt, and a classy older gentleman’s fedora.

“Hey there. How’s it goin’?” Henry asked.

The man approached Henry.

“Oh, not too bad, how ‘boutchaself?”

“No complaints.”

The two shook hands.

“So you’re the one I’ve been seeing over for a while now.”

“Yeah, that’s me. Name’s Henry Werner.”

“I’m Willy Williamson.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“So what brings you by, Willy?”

Willy walked with Henry while he inspected.

“Oh, I just wanted to come by and meet my neighbors. What are you checkin’ for?”

“Just checking my weed situation; wasn’t sure if I needed to do any spraying.”

“Ah, okay. Yeah, you’ve done a hell of a job with the place. Looks just like Jack had it.”

The two men stopped and looked at the front of the house.

“Yeah, I got it best of memory. He was my grandfather.”

Their attention left the house and they turned to each other. Several sets of powder-white hands frantically pattered all over the upstairs windows, inaudible and unseen by the two men.

“No kidding? He was a friend of mine. We used to go over there for parties. None of these crazy drug parties that these young kids are going to, I’m talking classy parties.”

“He was quite the entertainer.” Henry nodded.

“He sure was. I miss those two. I bet Jack would be proud of whatcha done with the house. How’s the inside look?”

The pale hands slapped, slammed, and scratched at the glass.

“It’s getting there. Damnedest thing though, and I never thought about it growing up, we have no pictures of this place.”

Willy scratched his head thinking to himself.

“That is odd. Come to think of it…As long as I’ve lived here and as many times as I’ve been over there I don’t have any pictures of the house either.”

“Strange…”

The ghastly white frantic hands backed off as the two men turned back towards the house and remained unseen.

“Well, better head on home. Nice meetin’ ya.” Willy told him.

“Okay, have a nice day.”

“Alright, well good luck.”

Willy left. Henry stood with a curious face on him.

“Good luck? Kind of an odd thing to say…” He said to himself.

Henry walked on when he thought he saw something and stopped. His brow came down and his bottom lip came up. His eyes darted up at the previously active windows now empty. He turned his head back down, confused, and moved on.

Karen tried on sunglasses in the small local store while, in the mirror on the rack, she noticed a clerk staring at her while stocking shelves. Karen slowly looked over to her admirer.

“Can I help you?” Karen asked annoyed.

The old woman averted her eyes and carried on, ignoring Karen.

“Whatever.”

Karen took her basket of items up to the counter where a similar older woman was at the register with the same sour aura. Karen still stayed positive despite the last worker.

“Hi.”

The old woman simply stared at her for a moment before ringing her up.

“Okay…”

While the cashier continued to do her job, Karen turned around and looked at the store. A real mom-and-pop shop selling food and some other odds and ends. Other than corkboard bulletins with local happenings there was no wall décor. Despite its normalcy, she found it odd; of course, being stared at and not spoken to by the employees didn’t help.

“This place is weird.” Karen said to herself.

Karen turned back around, paid, and grabbed her paper bags of goodies rather aggressively. She got in the truck and put the grocery bags in the passenger seat.

“Hank, where in the hell have you moved us to?” She started the truck.

Karen drove off, kicking up dust in the gravel parking lot. The cashier stepped outside, followed by the shelf stocker, and they watched the girl leave.

Henry walked around the parameter of the house on his knees pulling weeds. Some came right up while others gave him trouble, which required a bit more might. Sweaty and dirty from the yard work, he once again failed to notice the ghost-white hands pattering frantically and silently on the windows of the house. He continued to pull weeds and put them in the small trash bag he’d brought out for such a job.

The ground behind him lifted up slightly in tiny waves of earth. The rippling of ground was headed in his direction. It moved almost snake-like but didn’t disrupt the crust of the dirt behind it. It swiftly moved towards him when he turned around, shocked.

“Damn, I missed one.”

He reached over to pull the weed he missed with no sign or notice of any ground movement. The pale white hands slapping on the windows were gone as well, if he even would’ve noticed. He stopped to wipe the sweat from his brow with a bandana. Still kneeling, he sat back on his feet.

“I can see this is gonna be more of a fixer-upper than I thought.” He sighed. “Thanks, grandpa.” He said with a slight chuckle.

Henry stood up and dusted himself off. He walked away when a scaly, sharp hand came up from the ground slowly.

Karen pulled up in the driveway and parked, looking up at the house before getting out.

She entered the front door with the two bags and looked around, side to side.

“Hank? Hey Hank!”

Silence was her answer. She put the keys in the tray and continued on through the house and into the kitchen setting the bags down on the counter.

“Kare!? Hey, Karen, come down here, I need you to give me a hand!” She heard from downstairs.

She peeked her head around the corner before her body followed in that direction.

Karen walked down the steps to the basement. When she got to the bottom she noticed the lights were on but Henry was nowhere in sight.

“Where are you?” She asked.

“Over here; what took you so long?”

Karen looked around, confused.

“Over where? Hank, I can’t see where you’re at.”

She looked and listened.

“Warmer…”

She followed his voice to the concrete wall – the doorway Hank had blocked off during his renovations. She was growing worried, almost alarmed.

“Hank?” She asked quietly.

Karen knocked before putting her ear to the concrete square.

“You’re getting warmer…” A dark, low voice said.

Her eyebrows sunk down while her eyes widened in fear.

“Oh, hey, I didn’t know you were home.” Henry said noticing her. “You just get back?”

She looked over to see Henry standing at the base of the basement stairs. Karen looked back and forth between her brother and the walled off back room.

“What are you talking about? You just called me down here.”

Henry was as confused as she was shocked.

“I just now saw you. Plus, I was in the backyard working today, not down here.”

“This isn’t funny.” Karen grew frustrated.

“What’s not funny? No one’s laughing.”

“Hank, I heard you. You called me down here because you needed me to help you with something; sounded like you were calling me from back there.”

“What? Karen, what are you talking about?”

“What’s back there, Henry?” She motioned to the back.

“What?” They were both lost at this point.

“You heard me; what’s back there? What are you doing back there?” She asked in an accusatory tone.

“Nothing; there’s nothing back there. It was empty when I walled it off. Now, damn it, what in the hell is going on here!?” He became defensive.

“Quit trying to scare me!” Karen screamed with her hands out.

Karen’s eyes were filled with tears from her plea. Henry extended his hands to calm her. He tried to show her that he’s not trying to harm her but after what she’d just encountered it was a bit hard to hear his side.

“I’m not trying to scare you or do anything!”

“I heard something coming from that room.” She pointed to the back room.

Karen wiped her face. Hank tried once again to explain to her.

“That’s impossible. The day I worked on it, it was empty and completely shut off. Nothing could be in there, Karen, I swear.”

Karen turned her back to her brother.

“I heard your voice as plain as day and then…” She shook her head. “…Something else.”

What she said hit him and they stood in a strong, silent moment as Henry stared at the walled off door.

“What was it?”

“I don’t wanna talk about this right now.”

Karen left, running past him and up the stairs.

“Wait, Karen, what was it!?” He called up.

His hands were on his hips while his head hung and shook. He turned off the lights and after the last light head upstairs with the scaly hands and glowing eyes waiting behind him.

The siblings sat at kitchen table – on the opposite side of the counter from the breakfast nook – eating plates of baked fish, carrots, and potatoes. It was uncomfortably quiet with the sound of metal forks touching glass plates. Henry wanted to talk about what she had heard but stayed silent. Karen finished first and stood up with her plate the moment her last bite was finished.

“Thanks for dinner. It was good.” She said coldly, never looking at him.

“Eh, leave the plate.” He stopped her. “It’s my night for dishes.”

“Good night.” She still gave him not so much as a glance.

“Good night.”

Karen exited and Henry’s head fell back in exhaustion.

The house stood tall with no activity outside. No ghost-white hands beating on the windows to get out. No rippling ground or claws reaching up from the depths. The moon hung behind it outlining its frame in the night sky. The floor in Karen’s bedroom had clothing scattered here and there. The room was draped in the dark hues of the night; blacks and blues. The bed shook and was alive with movement. Karen was under the sheets… with someone else.

The mass underneath the gray sheets moved and gyrated, accompanied by Karen’s moaning, before the sheets were pulled off in the throes of passion. Karen lay on her back with her legs wrapped around a tall, muscular, bald, black man. The mystery man thrusted into her with long, slow strokes. The moonlight shone on his bald scalp as her nails ran down his back. Karen’s arms fell along with her body in surrender to the feeling. Her head leaned back with shut eyes at every plunge; she was in ecstasy.

The gyrating got heavier; heavier to the point of pounding. She looked up at this Adonis of a man as he pounded into her hard and loud, sounding like someone beating against a wall with a hammer. She moaned harder and harder, almost ready to let out an orgasmic scream, when Hank busted through the door, breathing hard and looking like a construction worker just off work.

“Karen.”

Frightened, she shot up in the bed, sitting up, alone. She breathed heavily and looked around to realize her night of passion was only a dream. She groaned, frustrated with her filthy brother, gray from being completely covered with dust.

“Jesus, Hank, what is it?”

“Come with me. Come downstairs, I have to show you something.”

“Hank, it’s the middle of the night!”

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.”

She begrudgingly got up, throwing her sheets off, and followed suit.

The basement was fully lit as the two came downstairs. When they hit the bottom of the steps Henry glanced back at her and then kept going. She stopped, looking forward.

“What is this?”

The doorway he’d walled up was broken down with a sledge hammer leaning against the pile. Her eyes went back and forth between the broken blocks, the hammer, and her brother covered in the concrete dust, but she was hesitant to get to close. He stood at the rubble.

“Look.” He motioned to the back. “See for yourself. There’s nothing back there.”

She looked at him and the busted hole but stayed back.

“You did all this for me?” Karen was touched and her irritation with being woken up was fading.

“Well yeah, this is our home. I want you to be comfortable and happy.”

She acknowledged what he’d done for her, which was comforting but she was still weary of the backroom.

“You’re still my brother, the jerk, but I love you.”

Henry smiled, wiping his face with a shop towel.

“You sure there’s nothing back there?”

“C’mon. Take a look. It’s hollow.”

Henry stepped inside the vacant backroom.

“You don’t seem as afraid of this place as you used to.” She told him.

“Eh, can’t be afraid forever.” He shrugged.

They smiled at each other before Karen held out her hand.

“C’mon, Hank, it’s time to get some sleep.”

CHAPTER THREE

Another bright day with no rain in sight. The sun lit the house as the moon did the night before. Henry stepped out and retrieved the paper from the doorstep followed by a stretch and a yawn. Mr. Werner turned and walked inside skimming through the paper and reading headlines.

“Huh, ‘Dancer Gone Missing’…”

Henry set the paper down on the counter and walked around into the main square of the kitchen to check the cabinets. He rubbed his face, tired.

“I’ll have to read the rest of it after I get some coffee…” He yawned to himself.

He searched the cabinets but couldn’t find what he was looking for. Henry closed the cabinets and walked upstairs and down the hall. He reached the bathroom. The door was shut with the shower audible. He shouted so she could hear him.

“Hey, Kare, we’re out of coffee.”

“After last night, I believe it.” She called back over the water.

“Har har.” Henry rolled his eyes. “Look I’m thinking about running into town. You wanna go with?”

“No thanks. I got enough of the locals yesterday.”

Hank leaned on the wall next to the bathroom door and his face reacted curiously to her comment.

“You gonna be okay alone?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“All right, I’ll be back.”

Henry moved on down the hall and into his bedroom where he grabbed his wallet off of the dresser. It was back down the hall when he passed Karen’s room and something caught his eye. He stopped and turned back in a double take. He came back to her open door to see all of their grandmother’s dolls on the floor. They were standing and facing him. Henry shook his head in disbelief.

“What in the hell?”

Henry returned to the bathroom door where the shower was no longer heard. He knocked.

“Hey, Karen.”

“Be out in a minute.”

“Karen, I need you to come out.” He knocked again.

“Okay, jeez.”

Karen stepped out of the steamy bathroom with her towel wrapped around her, not sure whether to be concerned or frustrated.

“I’m out. What is it?”

“Have you had grandma’s dolls out?”

“What?” She was lost.

“Come here.”

“What now?”

He hurried her to her room. Upon entering she saw the room as she had left it. His eyes widened, shocked, as he saw that the dolls were no longer there. He knew what he saw. He pointed to the middle of the room, where they had stood and stared.

“Uh…”

“What is it?” She jumped back a little. “Is it a spider?”

“Grandma’s dolls were right here! They were right here!”

“Henry, are you on something?”

“Don’t do that to me! Did you have them out or something?”

“They’re in storage where they’ve been for years. Get a grip.”

Henry began going through her room.

“No, they’re here somewhere. I saw them.”

“Will you knock it off!? Quit digging through my things! I told you they’re in storage; why would I bring them!?”

He stopped, thinking to himself, replaying the image of the little porcelain devils.

“Hold on.”

Henry left the room to go one down. Their grandmother’s doll room had now become a room for miscellaneous odds and ends. He entered and searched all over.

“Where are you, you little…”

“Hank, just stop. There’s nothing here.” Karen followed him in.

“I know what I saw…” He said quietly.

“Henry, get out. Go to the store. Take a drive, a walk, something, because you’re losing it.”

She pulled him out of the room.

“But…”

“No, Hank, just go.”

She shut the door and went to her room.

“I need to get dressed. I’ll see you when you get back and you’ve cooled off.”

She closed the door while he tried to explain. His eyes closed and his head fell forward resting on her closed bedroom door.

“So what was it?”

The curious doctor and the confused, scared man sat in the cold and sterile room. Dr. Turner fixated on this man while the Henry’s mind wandered.

“Henry? What was it? What happened next?” Dr. Turner asked.

“Well, I explained to her what I saw – our grandmother’s dolls – and how they were standing there… staring. I think they were waiting for her. I don’t think they expected to see me.”

“It doesn’t sound like she believed it to me.” The doctor noted while tapping his pen.

“No. She didn’t, but we still searched the house up and down.”

“And were the dolls there, just like you suspected?”

Henry shook his head.

“N-no, they weren’t there. She finally convinced me they were in storage.”

Karen and Henry sat down enjoying fried chicken and mashed potatoes at the kitchen table.

“Sorry about earlier.”

“Eh, it’s alright. I think the memories attached to this house are still playing tricks on us.”

“I’m hoping all of that will fade soon once we get completely settled in.”

“That’d be nice.”

They chuckled slightly.

“Dinner’s delicious.” Henry said taking another bite.

“Thanks. I’m glad you picked up chicken today. I hope your trip to the market went smoother than mine.”

“Heh, these people are something else.”

Henry paid for the groceries and grabbed the bag from the counter. The old woman behind the register was the very same that Karen had encountered and appeared no friendlier.

“Thanks. Have a good one.” He smiled.

Henry left the shop and headed for the truck. Traffic in and out of the store was as minimal as it usually was. He got to the truck and, upon putting the bag in the passenger seat, a voice was heard.

“Excuse me…”

He shut the door and looked up to see a pale white woman, old and frail, in all white clothes – a white blouse with a white skirt, along with the white hair that topped her head. Her appearance gave him pause.

“Yes?”

She approached him.

“Can I help you?” He asked.

She reached out, softly touching his face and then turned her hand over to its backside and ran it down his cheek. She smiled the whole time while he stood frozen with confusion. When she was finished, her wrinkly, veiny, and white hand softly retreated.

“Thank you.” She smiled.

Karen and Henry were at the table, just on the other side of the kitchen counter on the dining room side; the rose and ivy wall paper behind them as they continued their down home meal and conversation.

“You just let some strange woman touch your face?” Karen asked in shock.

“Well it’s not like I was afraid of her or something.”

“That doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be letting strangers come up and touch you. That’s what we’re taught as children. Duh.” She slapped her forehead.

They laughed together.

“Yeah, yeah.” He laughed.

“So she just walked up to you, touched your face, said ‘Thank you’ and that was it?”

“Well, then I got in the truck; after I got in, I looked up and she wasn’t anywhere in sight. And to top it all off, nobody was around. No one saw it.”

“Boy, do you know how to pick ‘em.”

They chuckled a little bit and enjoyed their dinner before something hit Karen. She halted and Henry noticed.

“Kare, you okay?”

“Yeah…” She thought to herself for a moment. “You said it was outside that store with the mean old ladies?”

“Yeah, why?” Hank shrugged.

Karen’s finger went up and she looked confused.

“There was something I read in that paper you left out.” She said getting up.

Karen walked across the room and grabbed the paper. She brought it back to the table and sat it down in front of Hank.

“Check it out.” She pointed to the article.

“Happy Mecklenburg dies and leaves her shop to her two daughters. The local store, Mecklenburg’s, has been around more than sixty years; run completely by Happy until her death…” He read aloud.

She pointed again.

“Look, there’s a picture. If only her daughters could’ve been Happy’s namesake, eh?”

The picture in the newspaper featured an old skinny woman, Happy, between her two daughters, grumpy and heavy set. Henry’s eyes stretched.

“Oh my God!”

“I know, right? It’s the two old geezers from the shop.”

“No, it’s her. It’s Happy. That’s the woman that approached me in the parking lot!”

“What!? That can’t be.”

Henry looked closer at the picture and, sure enough, the woman in the picture was the old frail woman who had approached him in the parking lot. He pointed at the picture.

“I’m serious. It’s her, I swear.”

“Hank, this says she died more than a week ago…”

Henry looked up from the paper into nothing, spacing out.

“What in the hell is going on around here?”

Henry thought to himself for a moment, trying to figure it out.

Detectives Burke and Dunn had entered the room some time ago, listening intently. Burke stepped forward.

“Can we hurry this along? We don’t have all day.” Detective Burke said.

Henry was frightened by the detective. The doctor looked up at him.

“Detective, please.” Dr. Turner urged.

“I’m getting to it. I am.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The siblings’ dinner continued along with light conversation.

“It was the first time we’d heard it.”

“Heard what?”

“…The rumbling.”

“Remember when they used to tell us the attic was haunted and not to ever go up there?” Karen asked.

“Yeah, turned out all it was, was they had old antiques and valuables up there and they didn’t want us getting into it so they told us that to keep us out.”

They laughed.

“Man, in hindsight almost nothing is what it seemed to be.”

“Yeah…”

A loud rumble interrupted them; a strong grumbling from the house along with an equally strong vibration. They looked at each other during the tremor.

“Henry, what is that!?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt it.”

“What’s that sound?”

“That can’t be an earthquake. It’s gotta be the pipes. I’ll call someone.” He said.

Henry walked across the room to the phone and grabbed the phone book off the shelf next to it. He quickly thumbed through the book while the tremor tapered off but the rumbling sound was still there for a moment after before quietly fading.

“Found it.”

He picked up the phone and dialed.

“I called around and checked with gas and water, you name it.”

Henry and Karen stood in the backyard when a city worker, in dark coveralls and a hardhat, came around the corner shaking his head to them.

“They said the gas and water lines were fine despite the age of the house; certainly nothing to cause a rumble.”

Karen and Henry knocked at their neighbor’s front door when someone answered. The house was yellow with black shutters and a clear glass front door. The neighbor was a man about fifty years old.

“We asked around the neighborhood if anyone else had felt or heard it.”

The neighbor shook his head no. The brother and sister understood and the neighbor shut the door. The two turned and looked at each other.

“We figured then it was either a freak occurrence or just meant for us.”

Henry mowed the front yard. With a hat and sunglasses on, he really wasn’t paying attention to anything but mowing. He walked and pushed the mower in strips.

“So, with no one else noticing but you two, what happened next?” Dr. Turner asked.

“We hadn’t heard or seen anything for a few days and had pretty much figured at the time that whatever it was had subsided.”

While he continued to mow Karen came out to the porch yelling for him.

“Hank! Hey, Henry!”

Henry’s mower had seen better days with its loud jarring rattle. He couldn’t hear her until a word finally made it through to him during a hiccup in the motor. He turned and saw Karen screaming for him on the porch while the green reptilian-man monster stood behind her holding her captive.

To Henry’s surprise, the Scale-Man was out in broad daylight. It was a tall, hulking figure with various shades of green with some black here and there. The scales on its skin were visibly defined and its black talons were long and sharp. The outline of the creature could easily be mistaken for the shape of a man if seen from far away. It smiled with his mouth of razor sharp fangs whilst holding her.

Henry trembled in terror. He shut his eyes and shook his head before looking again. No monster, just her shouting for him. He turned off the mower and shut his eyes hard before re-opening them.

“You okay?” He asked.

“What’re ya deaf?” She asked, annoyed.

“You know I can’t hear ya with this thing.”

He tried hard to push the image of the being out of his head.

“Someday you need to get a new one. That thing sounds like it’s about to blow up.” She told him.

Henry wiped sweat from his forehead.

“Eh, I know, but it’s grandpa’s.” He shrugged. “What’s goin’ on?”

“We got any bug spray? We’re starting to get some creepy crawlies.”

“Maybe downstairs on the shelf…”

“Alright, I’ll check.”

Karen went back inside. Henry pulled the cord and returned to mowing.

Karen walked down the basement stairs, turned on the lights, and instantly began looking around. Instead of turning to her left, to the side with the vacant backroom, she went to the other side where there were shelves holding Henry’s toolboxes.

She looked for anything that might be bug spray though through her search she was only finding caulk and spray paint. Karen kneeled down to see the bottom shelf as the Scale-Man crouched with her, hovering over her shoulder, sniffing her.

“Found you!” She grabbed the can.

The lights went out and she screamed.

“Henry? Hello?”

Multiple pairs of red eyes filled the dark spots of the basement. She gasped, frozen for a brief moment before slight growling was heard.

She bolted for the staircase, still lit. She made it and ran upstairs with monstrous talon-clad hands reaching up, just missing her as they had with Henry over time.

She reached the top of the stairs and turned back. Nothing chased her and the lights downstairs were still on.

“What in the hell is going on in this house?” She looked up and around at the house. “What do you want!?” Her fists pounded on the wall beside her. “Answer me!”

The house didn’t answer, but Henry did.

“Karen? You okay?”

She turned, frightened. Hank looked at her concerned.

“Henry…” She choked up.

“Kare, what is it? What’d you see?”

She stormed past him.

“I need to get out of here for a bit.”

“Where are you goin’?”

“Just going for a drive; I can’t be here right now.”

She walked through the kitchen at a quick pace and grabbed the keys out of the tray on the breakfast nook without stopping and left, slamming the front door behind her.

Henry stood looking the way Karen left before peering over to the basement. He had an inquisitive look about him as his eyes looked down in thought.

Hank went downstairs to investigate. He stood in the center of the basement looking around.

“Are you here?”

He stood defiantly, awaiting whatever would come, while scanning the environment with his head side to side.

“What is it that you want?”

The rumbling and shaking began again. He braced himself, but the tremors and grumbles were short lived. It all stopped but Hank stood still, though breathing heavier.

The truck was in the distance as Karen picked up speed. One hand was steady on the wheel while the other nervously tapped on it. No music played and she watched straight ahead. Something heavy weighed on her mind. Karen inhaled big, slowly blinked, and let out an equally big exhale.

Around the side and almost to the back of the house, Henry walked with Willy, who’d come over to chitchat with his old friend’s grandkids. Hank had a large can of weed killer in one hand with the wand in the other spraying the foliage around the house’s parameter. Willy’s hands stayed in his pockets, strolling around with his neighbor.

“Tell me, Willy, in all the times you’ve been over here, have you ever seen anything weird over here?”

“Eh, no, not really.”

Willy stopped and laughed to himself.

“Well, there was this one time: your grandfather called us all over to have a séance or something. We all thought it was crazy but we knew we’d have a good time anyway. So we all go and the living room is all dark with candles on the table with one of those Ouija boards. We were all dressed like we were going to a funeral and sitting down and playing with that goofy board. We go through the whole bit, asking questions and all that, and we start hearing these creepy voices and an eerie almost musical hum. It almost sounded like someone whispering in your ear.”

Henry was captivated by Willy’s tale.

“What was it?”

“Your grandparents had one of the grandest record collections I’d ever seen and among the variety was a record of a cappella opera. Well your grandfather, jokester that he was, had brought in a cousin from out of town to play that record but hold it and make sure it played really slow. So he played it at a snail’s pace in the other room in the dark while we all sat around playing with ghosts. No one knew he was in there.” Willy laughed. “It was so spooky I was starting to believe all that crap.”

Henry joined Willy in a laugh. Once it passed Henry wanted to push the issue further as they continued walking together.

“That’s great… But… I was curious, like, did my grandparents ever mention anything about the house?”

“I’m not sure I follow you.”

Henry was hesitant to even ask the question at first but now there was no turning back.

“Just anything odd… Sounds, seeing things, anything like that?”

Willy didn’t put much thought into it; sounded pretty simple to him really.

“Ah, you all probably got critters in there.” Willy nodded.

“Critters…”

“Yeah. Rodents; probably in the walls and scurry around. Probably a lot of what you’re hearing.” Willy stopped to think. “Unless it’s roaches or something.” He shrugged. “Just call an exterminator, then no more trouble.”

Henry knew what they’d been encountering was more than a mouse or a bug. He looked at Willy in all seriousness.

“Willy… I don’t think it’s vermin.” Henry shook his head.

The two men stopped and Willy pulled his sunglasses down a bit and gave Henry a good look.

“Son, are you all in trouble with someone? Are y’all on something? Do you need help?”

Henry shook his head in frustration.

“I’m not on drugs, damn it. There’s something going on in there.” He pointed to the house.

Willy’s crazy look stayed and rightfully so. Willy leaned in seriously, almost appearing scared.

“Boy, are you trying to tell me that this house is haunted?”

“I think so. Well, I don’t know if it’s haunted but there’s something in there…”

Henry’s face remained serious while Willy shared this expression only briefly before his straight face broke and he cracked up into laughter.

“Son, I’ve been in that house a million times, lived in the neighborhood with the house most of my life, I’ve never seen or heard anything weird and never once have I heard anyone say anything about it.” He shook his head. “Haunted, boy, you crack me up.”

Willy walked on, leaving a frustrated Henry standing still.

CHAPTER FIVE

While Burke and Dunn grew more irritated, the good doctor brought a couple of cups of coffee back to the table where their storyteller sat and sat down himself.

“So nobody else noticed that the house had these kind of… problems, and you were both also hesitant to tell each other of both of your separate incidents involving the house. Why not just be out in the open and talk about it? Were you both worried that one would find the other crazy?” Dr. Turner asked.

“I don’t know. I think we just attached it to memories versus what it was so we tried to separately shove it away or sweep it under the rug. I think we both just thought, independently, that it would go away once we got used to the house… Or the house got used to us. We did finally talk about it though…”

Henry and Karen sat on the porch with dinner and a couple of beers. For dinner they had burritos from a little Mexican place not too far out of town, but worth the trip; burritos and beer and a fairly nice night out. They’d had enough with the inside and felt like just hanging out outside for the evening.

“Thanks for picking up dinner.” He said.

“No problem. Thanks for grabbing the beer. Sounds like your day went similar to mine.”

She took a drink of her beer while he finished the bite he chewed.

“We need to talk about this.” He motioned to the house.

She rolled her eyes.

“What we need to do is burn this bastard down.”

“As much as I want to agree with you, I can’t.” He took a drink and shrugged. “It’s grandma and grandpa’s.”

“Yeah, and now it’s ours so we can do what we want with it.” She nodded.

Henry was frustrated, almost desperate while pleading with her.

“Kare, we can make this work.”

“Well you need to start making some phone calls then. I can’t do this much longer.” She took a bite.

Karen downed the rest of her beer and went inside.

“I’m heading to bed. Night.”

“G’night.”

Henry, silent and thinking, finished off his beer. He sighed and listened to the sounds of the night.

The Werner house was quiet, still. It was dark but not too dark as everything would be visible once eyes adjusted. The innards of the house were painted in navy blues and grays from the night sky coming in through the windows.

The top of the basement was barely lit by the nightlight in the kitchen. Down the stairs was pitch black.

The kitchen was clean and neat. No dishes or anything upon its clear counters.

The living room was plain; a TV, a table with a white lace tablecloth, and two brown recliners. The window behind the TV showed the backyard, as plain and just as calm.

Upstairs to the bedrooms, the old house appeared asleep with the Werners.

The hallway had a window revealing the wind blowing a tree outside. The wind picked up.

Hank was fast asleep in his bed on his back with his head turned to the side. His room was clean and still.

Karen was sleeping curled up on her side; on her nightstand was a little gray and silver sound machine quietly playing sounds of the ocean. Her room was as organized and still as her brother’s only with oceanic waves in the air. The rumbling and shaking started abruptly and she shot up in a panic.

“Henry! What is that!?”

Henry was shaking out of his bed.

“I don’t know!” He said still out of it.

Henry fell out of bed with a thud.

“Ung.”

Henry ran out into the hall, bumping into the wall due to the tremors, and headed a couple of doors down to Karen’s room. She ran out screaming and storming past him in a hurry. The loud rumbling continued.

“I hate you!” She yelled at the house, charging through the hall.

It was morning and Henry and Karen sat in the kitchen with the coffee pot between them. They had the phone book laid out while both pointed numbers out.

“Needless to say we started making the calls and trying every which way to fix it.”

Henry held the phone to his ear with a pen in hand and a notebook.

An electrician in jeans and a blue long sleeved shirt went up to and in the house with his tool box in tow. His truck was in the driveway with a picture of a light bulb and a socket on the side.

“We called an electrician… and a plumber…”

An overweight plumber in jeans and a flannel shirt came out of the house with a large wrench over his shoulder.

A priest, in robe, stood in the basement with the two siblings. The un-walled doorway was behind them while the priest had his Bible out in one hand and slung holy water from a little glass bottle with the other.

“We called a priest to bless the house. To baptize it.”

A group of exterminators decked out in the white full body suits, headgear included, got out of a black van in the driveway.

“We called every kind of exterminator and animal control we could find.”

On the roof a couple of guys looked down the chimney. One of them had a large net in his hand.

In the living room, a couple of gals with lots of colorful jewelry on shook their arms at the floor. One sprinkled bright colored stones, gems, while the other lit incense, shaking smoke around. Both women wore rag-like robes with tribal patterns on them. Behind them, Karen and Henry looked at each other with skepticism and tried not to snicker.

“We got a hold of quite the variety of people…”

A paranormal research group inspected the upstairs. Three people; a photographer with ultra-bright flash, a guy holding a large microphone out, and a woman holding a hand-held lighted device pointing it down at the floor, standing slightly away from the other two. All wore black clothing.

Francis was growing bored but tried to seem surprised with his chin resting in the palm of his hand.

“Let me guess…”

“Nothing turned up.”

“Nothing turned up.”

“Everything in and for the house was on the up and up; not a thing wrong with it really other than age.”

Behind the glass with Burke and Dunn, Dr. Turner turned back giving the detectives a quick glance.

“So what happened next?” Turner turned back to Henry.

Henry lay in bed, sound asleep. Everything looked fine; much like it did the last night of the grumbling.

“Even though we didn’t see much noticeable result, we had one of the best nights of sleep ever.”

Karen too was passed out in a thick sleep. Her sounds of the ocean played on the sound machine and she didn’t toss or turn.

The two had blueberry muffins for breakfast and talked. The muffins were large and they each had a couple on their plates with glasses of milk and cups of coffee beside them. They picked their muffins apart, eating them instead of taking large bites.

“So what’s the future for us in this house?” She asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well we live in this house… Who gets it when one of us gets married and starts having a family? Does the other just get grandfathered in and get room and board?”

Scoffing, Henry found the question kind of silly at first but then took it seriously.

“I think we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“Alright.” She rolled her eyes.

They went back to eating their muffins.

“So I kinda had this idea…”

He explained his idea to her.

“I thought maybe it’s about time to take our grandparents’ spot as entertainers as well. I thought maybe that might be part of it, you know, what the house wants.”

Henry talked with his hands, growing more excited as he told her, and Karen took it all in.

“The house wanted you to party…” Dr. Turner sarcastically said.

“No, to gel with the house more.”

She appeared to understand. Karen looked very happy yet very serious.

“Us throw a party? …Yes. I’m so in.” She said with the widest smile she’d worn since relocating.

Outside on a storage lot; rows of solid storage units stood atop a ground of grass and scattered gravel. A row of storage sheds with gray walls and blue shutter doors was still. Henry walked up to the door furthest on the left. He unlocked and rolled up the door with its loud metallic clanging. He stood still for a moment just looking in and around. There was so much in there it was hard to take it all in at once.

“Ah, gotcha.” He spotted it.

Dark blue crates of his grandparents’ old records sat next to the record player. He bent down, grabbing a crate when his eyes peeked to the side. Amidst the other items in the shed was a tote labeled DOLLS, which his eyes had peered over at. Henry shook it off and continued with the records.

Karen sat down at the breakfast nook with pen and paper, hard at work on something when it happened. A slight rumble began but no shaking tremors, just a grumbling noise. She stopped and put her pen down, looking up. Her eyes were alert looking around while her body was still. The rumbling stopped. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before getting back to her work.

“Hey, Kare, you home!?”

“Yeah. I’m coming.” She said getting up.

Karen met her brother at the front door where she saw him bringing in a crate of vinyl records.

“Whoa. What’s all this?”

He passed by her to the dining room table and set the crate down. The blue crates were old and dusty with cobwebs.

“Stopped by the storage. There’s a couple of other crates out in the truck. I didn’t grab them all. There are so many.”

“I’ve never even heard of a lot of these.” She said thumbing through the selection.

“That’s the way they all are. I looked through a bit while I was there and hardly knew a one. I’m gonna assume it’s all pretty rare stuff.”

“Hm.”

“Can you help me bring some of this in?” Henry asked.

“Yeah.”

Karen went out the front door. Henry stretched his back.

The rumbling returned again. His stretch ended abruptly when hearing it, though there were no quake-like tremors. He looked around waiting for what happens next. The sound of the rumble dissipated. When it was over Henry shook his head and headed out to help Karen.

Karen struggled to get the record player out of the back of the truck. Henry swooped in. It was gray and bulky and didn’t look like it should be so heavy. It was also dusty with webbing like the records.

“Here, let me get that.”

“Whew, thanks. That thing’s heavier than it looks.”

“The records aren’t as heavy.”

He carried on with the player and she reached in for the crates.

Everything was loaded in the house and the two looked at everything brought in on the dining room table.

“We’re going to have to clean that thing up.”

“Oh, yeah. These things have been in storage for some time.”

Karen looked through the records.

“Well, it looks like we’ll be having a classy party.”

Henry gave her a look in agreement but it also sounded familiar; something resonating from old Willy.

“Do we have wine glasses?” She asked.

“Not sure. I might have to make another trip or so out to storage.”

“Cool. I’ll get to cleaning all this up.”

They left in two directions while the record player waited on the table.

Detectives Burke and Dunn stood behind the glass drinking coffee and growing angrier with every part of this man’s tale.

Henry and Dr. Turner sat. Henry’s stuttering had ceased and Dr. Turner’s interest in writing things down had seemed to have slowed down as well.

“So we started getting the house ready…” Henry started.

Karen looked at the records before choosing one and putting it on the turntable.

“Once the records and the player were cleaned we put on some tunes; a test-run if you will.”

Karen turned it up as there was a little crackle coming from the speakers.

“Might have to check these speakers out, Hank…”

“I’ll check ‘em out when I get back up.”

She tapped the speaker and adjusted the knobs on the phonograph. The sound was now coming through crystal clear.

“Oh, never mind, I guess.”

Henry went down to the basement. Henry shoveled up rubble from when he broke down the walled up doorway.

“We started cleaning the house up the best we could.”

When the broken blocks and rocks were in the wheelbarrow, Hank stopped and stood up to stretch.

“Hey, Kare, could you bring me something to drink!? …Kare?”

After a moment of waiting for a response it was obvious to him that she couldn’t hear him so he went upstairs. While hurrying up the staircase he slowed down abruptly seeing four long, large claw marks going up the wall. He reached his hand out touching the marks and thought to himself.

Karen was on a step ladder dusting the ceiling lights. The dust came down causing her to sneeze and she almost fell from the ladder only to steady herself first. Henry stepped in with a bottle of water.

“Bless you.” He said.

“Thank you.”

“You see or hear anything?”

“Like what? What now?”

“Nothin’ major; just wondering if we have a squirrel or something in here.”

“No animals here.”

Henry nodded.

“Player seems to be working okay.” He said.

“Yeah, it plays like it’s brand new.” She was surprised.

“Good. I’ll be back.”

Darkness was broken as the door to the storage unit was opened, revealing Henry pushing the door the rest of the way up.

“We were pulling out all the stops.”

He scanned the storage shed.

The blank kitchen counter of the Werner residence was soon covered by a large crate of wine and champagne glasses. A dusty Henry stood back while his sister Karen sat looking at the crate, yet fanning off the dust being kicked off the glasses.

“Holy crap.” She coughed.

“There’s more… You won’t believe what else I found out there. Wait right here, I’ll be back.” He told her.

Henry exited while Karen started taking the glasses out of the crate. She took two out and turned around to put them in the sink when a little porcelain doll ran by her feet. She stopped and screamed, dropping the glasses and breaking them. She looked around to see where it went but couldn’t see where it could’ve gone.

“Get a hold of yourself…” She said to herself aloud.

She kneeled down to pick up the broken glass when a faint rumbling began. She stopped what she was doing and looked around, frozen when the low grumbling stopped. She continued getting the glasses when Hank came back in.

Across the room at the dinner table next to the record player Henry set a new crate down and peeked over the counter to see her on the floor.

“Uh oh, we get some break?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah, dropped a couple. Sorry about that.” She winced.

“Eh, it’ll be alright. You okay?”

“Yeah, I didn’t cut myself or anything. You said you got something else; what’ve you got now?”

Henry turned around with bottles of champagne in his hands.

“Check out what we had all along.” He smiled.

“Damn, this party won’t cost us much, will it?”

“Nope.”

“How many bottles?” Karen asked.

“Plenty… I’m gonna finish getting the yard together if you don’t mind cleaning these up…”

Henry was about to leave again when Karen stopped him.

“Wait a second; I got something to show you too.”

She turned around to the breakfast nook to grab something. She turned back to him holding up a written and drawn invitation. The picture was a slender woman drinking from a martini glass. The picture was done with slim black lines; whimsical yet elegant.

“Is this…?” He asked, looking at the paper.

“It’s our invitations.”

Henry’s face lit up.

“I love it! This is gonna be great!”

Henry drove while Karen sat in the passenger seat driving through town.

“So throughout all this time had either of you seen any more strange things about the house?” Dr. Turner asked.

“If we did, it was small and we never spoke about them to each other.”

“I wish we would’ve thought of this when we first moved in. Probably would’ve made things a lot smoother.” She said.

“Yeah, well, regardless, it’s smoothing out now.” He grinned.

Henry looked up in his rearview mirror to see the Scale-Man. The beast’s eyes pulsated with red and his mouth opened revealing those jagged sharp teeth. Henry’s eyes locked in with the vision in the mirror so much that he didn’t see the man on the bicycle he almost hit.

“Hank, look out!”

“Oh shit!”

The truck swerved just missing the cyclist and pulled over to the side, both breathing heavy.

“What was that!? You could’ve killed someone!” Karen yelled.

“Sorry, I thought I saw something. I’m sorry. I’m-I’m good now.”

Karen was now in the driver’s seat and they left.

“We went around town handing out invitations.”

The Mecklenburg sisters were given their invites. Henry and Karen were in and out, not giving the typically grumpy ladies any time to give the Werners guff.

Willy came outside as Henry handed him his invite. Willy nodded his head smiling and shook hands with Hank.

Another neighbor, an old white woman with dyed red hair, came out of their house looking at the invite taped on their door. She picked it up and looked pleasantly surprised.

A look down the neighborhood block saw an invite on every door. Nothing fancy about the houses but it was a clean street with well-kept homes.

Henry and Karen hung out at a bar having a few beers. The bar was dimly lit and not too crowded.

“Well, tomorrow’s the party.” He said holding up his beer.

“Think we’ll have any trouble?”

“Trouble? Like from guests getting drunk?”

“What? No, it’s not a kegger. I mean trouble from, y’know, the house.”

“I don’t think so. I think everything’s finally on the up and up. We just needed to gel with the house.”

“That’s probably why it stayed vacant so long.” She took a swig of her beer.

“Exactly.” He followed with a drink of his own.

“It’s been a hell of a ride, bro.”

“Yes it has and the house didn’t break us.”

They clinked bottles.

“It certainly tried… I swear I heard that voice in the basement.” She shuddered.

“Hey, I swear I saw the dolls.” He shrugged.

“Oh, I believe you… I believe it was all real to some degree. …A little too real at times.”

“I agree. But it’s time to put all that craziness behind us and have a good time.”

“Hell yeah. Let’s get some shots lined up.”

Karen stood up and motioned to the bartender.

CHAPTER SIX

The front yard looked well taken care of. The front of the Werner house was bright and inviting and cars pulled up.

Guests arrived and walked up to the house. Couples and even single people, all of which looked like they’d come out of a painting; everyone looked refined and sophisticated and spoke to one another.

With the guests reaching the porch, the front door opened by a welcoming Henry and Karen, dressed their best.

“Hi, guys! Glad you could make it!”

“C’mon in, everybody!”

The guests passed through the doorway.

Henry wore a black tuxedo, smooth and well-fitted. His hair was slick and combed and his face shaven. Karen wore in a red dress, a stylish gown. Her hair had a curly bounce to it and her lipstick matched her dress.

They led their guests into their home. Big band music played loudly and lots of people had already arrived. Henry had stopped people in the opening room, a little walk-in space with a coat closet.

“Here, let me get your coats.”

Henry got coats and put them in the already full closet. Through the opening and on through the dining area, other guests waved at and greeted one another. Everyone had a drink and some had a smoke. The living room had a group of guests looking at the house in awe. The lights appeared to shine like gold and the rose-and-ivy walls were vibrant. Everything in the house was eye-popping.

“My Lord, look at this place…” One wide-eyed guest said.

Guests touched the walls and ran their fingers down the ivy and roses just like Karen had. The fireplace was lit and full and the mantle on top held two house plants, one on either side. Above the mantle was the gold-framed mirror. Everyone greeted each other.

Henry and Karen looked at each other happily.

“It looks like it’s working.” Karen said quietly.

Henry nodded and turned the music down before tapping his glass and addressing the crowd.

“If I can have everyone’s attention for just a moment…”

Everyone quieted down and gave him their attention.

“I know most of you don’t know us and if you do, you probably remember us from when we were small children.” Everyone chuckled. “This party’s for you and for our grandparents and for, well, the house, and I…”

In that moment the loud rumbling returned and soon behind it the tremors started. Hank and Karen looked at each other wide-eyed, expecting everyone to race out of there at any second…but everyone was unfazed and, after a moment of panic, the shaking and grumbling tapered off. No one heard it but the two Werners.

“Yeah?” Someone asked.

Henry looked at Karen and then back to the crowd and cleared his throat.

“I, uh, I hope everyone enjoys themselves. Drink up, dance; the night is ours. Enjoy.”

He reached back turning the music back up while everyone carried on indistinctly when Karen approached Henry quietly.

“What the hell was that?” Karen whispered.

“I don’t know. Nobody heard that or felt it or anything.” He whispered back.

“What is going on…?”

An older couple approached the siblings breaking their quiet though frenetic conversation. The wife wore a black silk gown with a black feather boa sporting poofy bleached hair while the husband was taller, in a white suit, and balding.

“Hank, might I have a dance with the host?” The older woman asked.

“Oh, well of course.”

Henry set his drink down before he and his new dance partner went on to the living room to dance. The older man extended his hand to Karen.

“…And the hostess?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

She took his hand and they were off.

The record spun on the turntable emitting music accompanied by people carrying on.

While the record continued to spin, the black pupil of Dr. Turner’s eye was still and watching.

“Okay, Henry, what was it?” Dr. Turner asked quietly. “What was the rumbling?”

A brief moment of silence and a blink later, Henry answered.

“It was the house.” He leaned forward in all seriousness. “It was hungry.”

Burke and Dunn looked at each other with irritation and rolled their eyes and snarled their lips.

Henry continued…

“Of course… We didn’t realize this at first…”

Through the Werner home, the house was full of elegantly dressed people who’d graciously accepted their invitation. Many of them used to come here all the time for Jack Werner’s parties. Everyone enjoyed the big band music playing on the old record player. Some folks were dancing but most just hung out talking to one another, having a good time.

The men were in a variety of suits ranging from black tuxedos to dress slacks and jackets while the women’s variety of dresses was far vaster. The ladies wore black dresses, shawls, sequins, furs, you name it. The Werners mingled with guests when an older woman in a black sequins dress and far too much makeup on approached them.

“This party’s lovely. If only Jack were around to see it; he’d be so proud of you all.” A woman told them.

“Thank you so much.” Karen smiled.

“We’re just happy everyone’s enjoying themselves.” Henry told her.

“I was just telling my husband how much I enjoy being back in this house again.” The woman motioned over to her husband. “There’s just…” She looked up and around, smiling. “…Something about it.”

“Well it’s…” Karen looked at Hank. “…Special to all of us.”

“It’s part of the family.” Henry nodded.

The woman turned to her husband pointing over to the side.

“Look, babe, do you remember that…?”

Upon the woman’s distraction the siblings shared a look saying, ‘This house, if she only knew…’ As the two moved on through the party shaking hands, Mr. Willy Williamson entered putting his hand on Hank’s shoulder. Karen moved on schmoozing with others.

“Well, son, ya pulled it off. This is marvelous.”

Henry and Willy shook hands, both seeming pleased.

“Thanks, Willy. Glad you could make it.”

“A Werner party? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He looked around him. “It’s like being… in a time machine…” He continued to look around him stunned. “I’ll catch you later, young blood. Evelyn, is that you!? C’mon, honey!” He went to schmooze with old friends.

Willy left while Henry laughed to himself shaking his head. Karen came in from the side, nudging her brother.

“Hey, look who’s here.”

The two looked to the side where she motioned. The Mecklenburg sisters, usually grumpy, were in attendance and in good spirits. They both wore dresses and smiled wide, greeting people.

Karen and Henry looked at each other laughing.

“Oh my God, what!?”

“I know it! This is crazy!”

The house was full and everyone was either having captivating conversation or dancing; for the amount of elderly in attendance it was a hot and jumping party. The music was loud and everyone felt it and forgot where they were for that moment in time; they enjoyed themselves, the locals and the Werner siblings alike.

Then it stopped. Everything froze as if someone hit pause. The record skipped on dead air; crackling filled the air along with the drag of the needle against vinyl and the occasional skip. Everyone but Henry and Karen were still in their last position as if they were mannequins.

“Karen?”

Karen came from the other side of the room from behind unmoving guests.

“Yeah… Henry, what is this?”

“I don’t know.”

Henry grabbed the nearest person, a heavyset gentleman in a blue suit, and shook him. No change.

“They’re frozen. Are they hypnotized?” She asked.

“It looks like it, but by what?”

Karen slapped the nearest person to her, the older man who danced with her earlier. No change.

The two walked around their guests, stunned, looking at every one of them. Henry approached Willy.

“Willy! Willy, it’s me; it’s Hank!”

He snapped his fingers and waved his hands in Willy’s face. No change. Good Ol’ Willy was just as bad off as the rest of them.

“Hank! Look!”

Henry looked over and she pointed to the mirror above the fireplace. The fire below died instantly but within the mirror wasn’t the reflection of the crowd but flames, just flames. Not outside the mirror, but inside.

The two looked at the flames in the mirror like a window to hell, mesmerized, while the sound of cracking and popping flame were audible from the mirror.

The mirror began to slowly crack over its fiery image. The cracks started in the corners and spread throughout.

Karen and Hank looked at each other with nervous worry.

The mirror cracked too much and blew out with a loud smash.

The two ducked amongst the crowd of could-be-dummies.

Glass scattered on the floor in front of the cold fireplace and above it the gold frame with nothing in the center, just the wall and a few jagged pieces of mirror left in the edges of the frame.

The rumbling started up again, this time stronger. The tremors didn’t follow as they expected but something else. The Werners stood up and noticed all their guests were slowly melting.

While standing in their places all the guests’ skin began melting off like wax, dripping down to the floor. Henry and Karen saw it up close. They melted like the room was on fire but the two felt no heat.

“Hank, what the hell is going on?”

“It’s the house!”

The doors around the room slammed shut instantly by themselves.

The Werners looked over to the doors before they turned their attention back to their guests whose skin melted off, followed by their flesh melting off, dripping off of their bodies. Willy stood before Henry in his suit, a skeleton covered in human goo.

The same went for the rest of the party goers.

The Werner party was now crowd of standing clothed skeletons with the rumbling noise as loud as ever. Now the tremors began…

The siblings braced themselves while the shaking got stronger. Just as loud as the grumbling itself was a breaking sound; like a tree snapping. The floor between the two broke open loud and jagged, and with vacuum suction began pulling in the gooey skeletons of the former guests. Henry clung to the wall.

“Karen, hang on!”

Karen held on to a recliner despite the strength of the suction.

“I’m trying!”

In a quick moment of action the Scale-Man jumped up out of the broken floor and grabbed Karen and in no time fell right back in the jagged hole.

“No!” He yelled.

Henry lunged for his sister, at the edge of the opening reaching in. He had Karen’s hand but the monster had the rest of her.

“Henry! Please help me! Henry!”

“I got you!”

The creature’s wicked grin was over the shoulder of a crying and terrified Karen. The Scale-Man chuckled.

“Hank…”

Her other arm reached up for Hank but fell deeper into the hole as the floor closed.

Henry found himself on his hands and knees on the bare hardwood floor. The room was empty; no skeletons, no Karen, no creature, and no hole in the floor, not even a crack. He hit the floor in disbelief.

“Karen? …Karen!”

The doors opened by themselves. He put his ear to the floor but there was nothing to be heard. The house grumbled briefly. He slapped the floor one last time.

“Son of a bitch!”

Henry exited the front door in a fury. He marched down the steps of the porch and turned to the side of the house and went right for the shed.

He slung the shed doors open and went in. He came out with two large cans of gasoline and walked back to the house.

Upstairs, he came out of his room slinging gasoline, continuing to do so down the hall. He went into Karen’s room and was about to pour it when he saw little porcelain dolls scramble quickly under the bed. He paused with a look of hatred.

“You bastards…”

Hank doused the room in gas and left with a scowl upon his face.

On the main floor, he covered everything with gas, from the breakfast nook which still had his grandmother’s solitaire deck to the record player.

He stood in the center of the living room unloading the rest of one of the gas cans on the floor where the hellhole was.

Down in the basement, Henry Werner finished up the job flinging gas everywhere until finally out of the second can. He grunted throwing the can across the room.

He stopped, standing up straight. The green scaly demonic hands that haunted him as a child and that had just taken his sister returned creeping over his shoulders.

“Haaaaaaaank…” The dark voice taunted him.

A match was struck. Henry lifted the lit match up in front of him.

“…Not this time.”

He dropped the match and fire ensued.

He headed upstairs in a hurry as the Scale-Man’s devilish hands shot up, ablaze, snatching Henry’s leg. Henry turned and kicked the flaming hands off of him. Demonic screams and cries were loud along with the crackling of the fire.

Upstairs the dolls burned crying and whimpering.

The record player began to play by itself but not for long as the record warped and melted all over the player.

The house burned while pale white arms and hands frantically beat on all the windows as various pitches of screams were heard from high pitched shrills to guttural and gravelly cries.

Henry stood out in the front yard, back a ways, watching the large house that his grandfather had built go up in a blaze.

“And that’s it.”

Henry sat at the table with the doctor.

“That’s everything.” Henry said.

Dr. Turner inhaled deep and then let it out.

“Heh, okay… Quite the story.” Dr. Turner adjusted his glasses.

“It happened. I swear. You gotta believe me.”

Detectives Burke and Dunn entered the room giving Francis a file.

“Ah, thank you.”

He opened it.

“What’s that?” Henry asked.

Dr. Turner removed a photograph from the file and presented it to Henry.

“Have you ever seen this woman?” Dr. Turner asked.

“N-no.”

“This is Traci Headlum. She’s a dancer that went missing a few days ago.”

Dr. Turner held up a second photo.

“…And here she is murdered.”

“Wh-what happened?” Henry asked, disgusted.

A woman entered the interrogation room and greeted Francis. She was tall, thin, white and blonde.

“Hi, Dr. Turner.” She greeted.

“Dr. Roche, glad you could make it.”

They shook hands and she passed a file to him and stood next to the doctor. Henry started to get fidgety.

“What is this? What’s going on?” Hank nervously asked.

Dr. Turner looked at the file folder handed to him.

“Henry, you know Dr. Elizabeth Roche from the Greenwood Clinic…” Dr. Turner motioned to Dr. Roche with his pen.

Henry’s facial expression fell from a nervous confusion to a glum state.

“Oh…”

“We’ve been looking for you, Hank.” She nodded.

Dr. Turner looked through his file.

“Well let’s see, it says here Henry Werner indeed had a sister Karen who had drowned when the two were children; this sounding familiar?” He put down the folder. “This is your file from the Clinic.”

“But it all happened. The house…”

“When the police spotted Ms. Headlum’s car, they found you at the wheel and her dead in the trunk.” Dr. Turner held up the photo.

Henry was stone-faced looking forward. The dancer in the picture matched Henry’s description of Karen.

“We’ll be relocating you to the St. Christopher Mental Hospital. We have a car outside waiting.” She turned to Dr. Turner. “Francis, always a pleasure.”

Detectives Burke and Dunn stood behind the glass.

“From one nuthouse to the next; how is this justice?” Burke looked at Dunn.

“It makes you wonder what justice really means.” Dunn said.

Dr. Roche and Dr. Turner came out of the interrogation room. Dr. Turner was getting his coat on while Dr. Roche had already left the area.

“Detectives, until next time…”

Dr. Turner left the two detectives at the glass where they turned to see Henry sitting in his seat very still and emotionless.

Henry sat in the backseat of a car looking out the window. Trees and houses reflected off of the window in passing. His stone expression broke and his eyes widened and his mouth opened.

The black car containing Henry Werner turned on a corner and passed the very house from his story.

He slowly turned and faced forward with the house in the distance.

The end.