Forgotten House (Part Eight)

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven

Audio Recording

I made it to the top of the stairs, and slammed the door shut behind me as I fell against the opposite wall. I heard something heavy fall over from the basement, and I jumped to my feet, forcing back a cough.

It was late on that Saturday afternoon, by this point, for which I was thankful, as I could still see well around the house. Even so, I stumbled over various piles of litter as I made my way to the backdoor. At this point, the only sounds I heard came from my own hurried and panicked movements. I couldn’t shake what I’d seen on that tape, and I couldn’t ignore how recent the footage was. What had happened down there? Who was that person? What was…anything, with that?

The path I had made through the kitchen was still in tact. I began along it, but paused when I heard what must have been a rather small object fall to the floor in the living room.

I turned, slowly, bracing myself for whatever I would see. I saw nothing out of the usual, nothing to explain that noise I’d heard. I wanted out of that house, so I backed through the kitchen, turning to face the backdoor. My eyes went to that small, diamond window embedded higher up on the surface of the door.

A face faded into view, a face distorted and inhuman, yet somehow bearing a resemblance to a woman’s face, framed in wiry, black hair. What was meant to be eyes were twisted with some form of hateful pleasure. What was meant to be a mouth was contorted with that same mix of emotions. At the same moment, I heard clamorous laughter echoing around the house, coming from everywhere at once. I collapsed on the floor among the clutter, my hands instinctively going for my ears.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” I screamed, my voice drowned out by the manic laughter. The only other sound I could hear was a door somewhere behind me being torn open. I wanted so desparately to look away from that face but I couldn’t bring myself to. Those eyes, those horrible eyes, burned through my mind.

I heard windows breaking, countertops smashed, and I prepared for a painful barrage. That laughter continued, mocking me and my inaction.

Then…nothing. The laughter stopped. All other sounds ceased, and all I could hear was the rushing of my own blood through my hands, and my heavy breathing. I opened my eyes, and looked behind me.

Nothing had changed from the last I saw it. Nothing more was broken. I could see down to the other hallway, and the door to the basement was still closed. No windows were smashed. There was still disorder within the house, but nothing new, no sign of the sounds I had just heard.

I looked back to the window in the door, and could see the blue sky beyond. No face leering at me from without. I tried to calm down as I stood, and made for the backdoor, pulling it open on its loud hinges.

I fell to my knees on the remnants of the driveway, in the late afternoon light. It was good to feel that fresh air upon my face. As I gathered my breath, I went over what I had learned in that visit to the house, and whether or not I’d have to visit again. I hadn’t really learned that much, besides seeing bizarre footage from that tape. I’d not even made it to the levels beneath the basement, as I’d sort of been intending when I entered that house today.

Answers probably remained there in the basement itself, I was sure. I guess all that remained was deciding when I would try again. Shrugging, I stood, and faced the house, the back door swinging slightly, beckoning.

Time to try again, I thought, walking back inside.

(concluded in Part Nine)