Friday, March 7, 2014
The Haunted House (pt. 6)
As I stood there like I was cemented in place and watched the light dance about the interior of the living room I am somewhat proud to report that my mind did not leap to a supernatural explanation but instead to one more practical, though upon further examination that practicality was tenuous. I came to believe that the people whom I had met on the beach had somehow gotten into the house. Perhaps they had followed me surreptitiously as I had wandered back and forth noticing that I kept considering the stairway before moving on. They may have garnered that it was the way I would eventually go once I cleared my confusions and had covertly made their way up and then broken into the locked house to play some type of game with me. Perhaps they noticed the flavor of shock that struck me when the photo was revealed and thought that I was primed for some promising manipulation.
Well, I was having none of it. They had crossed the line by gaining illegal access and there would be no good cheer when I confronted them and revealed what was becoming a simmering rage at the ploy building inside of me. I finally broke from my stance and cautiously made my way around to the front door. It was still locked. As quietly as I could I inserted the key and opened the door, knowing that it would be to my advantage to give no hint as to my approach and catching them with their guards down as they continued their shenanigans inside. I waited a while as my eyes became accustomed to the dark of the house and then slowly and silently began towards the living room. On the walls I saw the reflected light and shadow of the still bobbing light as it waved about in the darkness.
I crouched low and made my way first to the kitchen counter and then carefully looked around it, past the dining area and into the room where I was sure that they would be. The light had gone. Throughout all of this there had been no sound, including any that I would have made, and so I was sure that if they had been there they would be there still. And yet I saw nothing, no sign of anyone standing in that room nor sitting on any of the furniture. There was no movement at all. I stood up and crept to the corner with a full view of half of the room which was empty and slowly pivoted my head around to see that the other half was doubly so. There simply was no one there.
And just at this moment a new thought came to me, one that still carried on the thread of my original idea, that those from the beach were now in the house and engaged in some chicanery, but the supposed motive took a very dark turn. What if these revelers were not as light-hearted as I had first assumed? What if they were some type of thrill-kill group who liked to single out a victim by taking a very specific type of picture of them so as to put them into a state that was fitting for what they intended as their release from this world in some terrifying sadistic ritual which would feed the dark powers that they nurtured in themselves, cutting a bloody path through humanity on a crazed crusade?
Just what was this that I had wantonly and quite stupidly walked into?
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