by Amy Cross
"I must admit," he continues, "I was surprised when he decided to add a third member to your little group. I thought you and Elizabeth were getting on rather well, but apparently he wanted to stir things up." Reaching out, he runs a finger along the side of my face. Even though I'm convinced he's a hallucination, I can feel his touch. "It's so typical of him, isn't it? Always wanting to keep you on your toes. What do you think he wants you to do about Holly? Are you supposed to be friends? Are you supposed to be enemies?" He pauses for a moment. "Do you think he knows about the power that's building down here?"
I pull away sharply. Glancing across the room, I see that Holly has noticed my movement and she seems a little perplexed. I smile weakly, and Holly eventually goes back to arguing with Elizabeth.
"She saw something," the thin-faced man says. "She's a smart one. Maybe it was easy to pull the wool over Elizabeth's eyes, but Holly's a different proposition. You need to be a little more careful, Natalie. Your old tricks and games won't hold up now that you've got two sets of eyes watching you. Maybe it's time to take some action. Do you think you can last indefinitely with three of you down here, or are you thinking of maybe cutting the number back down to two?"
Looking down at my feet, I try to block out the sound of his voice. Above us all, the floorboards creak as our captor walks through one of the rooms. I'm hoping he won't take any of us upstairs today. After all, he took two of us yesterday, which is unusual, so he'll probably take a little break. Besides, Holly's new, so if anyone has to go up, it'll be her. Also, it's been a long time since he took Elizabeth, so maybe it'll be her turn. Either way, I should be safe for a while. Please, God, let me be safe.
"I'm not here to tell you what to do," the thin-faced man continues, "but I'm going to make a friendly suggestion. You need to prune your numbers down. The way I see it, you have to pick either Elizabeth or Holly, and you have to get rid of her. Personally, I think it should be Elizabeth. She's always talked down to you and treated you like an idiot. Haven't you grown to resent her, Natalie?" He reaches out and, once again, he runs a finger down my cheek. "Isn't it a rite of passage for all girls to kill someone who puts them in their place? Do that, and it'll just be you and Holly down here. I'm sure Holly would eventually come around to your way of thinking. What do you say? Does this sound like a good plan?"
I watch as Holly, exasperated by her argument with Elizabeth, walks over to the other side of the basement. It's weird to think that she only arrived yesterday. Already, Holly feels so familiar.
"Elizabeth's been down here for ten years," the thin-faced man says. "The house has got to her. It's got inside her head and it's made her mind start to rot. You know what this place is like, Natalie. It changes a person. It twists their soul and turns them into an echo of its own evil. Elizabeth's been here the longest, so she's been changed the most. Can you even imagine what she must have been like before she came here? She's obviously so unhappy. Kill her. It'd be an act of mercy."
Getting up, I shuffle across the room, hoping that the thin-faced man won't follow me. I pass Elizabeth, and we exchange a brief glance. She's annoyed with me for making a fuss with Holly.
"I even know how you can do it," the thin-faced man says suddenly, having followed me across to the other side of the basement. "I'm going to tell you something that you don't already know, Natalie. Something that a hallucination couldn't tell you. Don't worry, I know you think I'm just a product of your fevered imagination, but I'm going to prove you wrong." He pauses for a moment. "Under the sink, there's a loose brick in the wall. Pull it out, and you'll find a large steak knife that Elizabeth hid there a long time ago. She's keeping it as insurance, and she doesn't trust you enough to tell you about it. I promise it's there, though. Take it, use it on her, and deal with your problems once and for all."
I turn and look over at Elizabeth. Could it be true? Could she be keeping a knife hidden from me? In a way, I wouldn't blame her. In fact, I'd have a little more respect for her if I thought she had a few secrets. She seems so submissive when it comes to the house, as if she's given up on trying to find a way out. On that point, at least, Holly is absolutely right. Elizabeth is hold me back.
"You okay?" Holly asks, coming over to join me.
I nod.
"She's so pretty," the thin-faced man says. "Don't be offended, Holly, but I think she's the prettiest one down here." He pauses. "You're not upset, are you? You're the second prettiest. Most people would be happy with that."
"I don't care," I blurt out.
"You don't care about what?" Holly asks, as the thin-faced man laughs in the background.
"Nothing."
"You seem distracted," Holly continues. She glances over at Elizabeth for a moment, before looking back at me. "Listen, I know you're scared of upsetting her, but you have to help me. I don't know what happened last night with the bars, but whatever it was, I want to do it again. I don't care about understanding it. I just want to see it."
I shake my head.
"Why not?" She pauses, waiting for me to answer. "Are you scared of something else? Are you scared of the guy upstairs?"
"You're scared of everything," the thin-faced man says. "Aren't you?"
"I just don't think it's a good idea," I mutter.
"What's not a good idea?" Holly asks. "Getting out of here?"
"Leave the power alone," the thin-faced man continues. "I don't think you should dabble with something you don't understand. It's all a part of the house, Natalie. Do you really want to attract the house's attention? Believe me, the house has such fury, it'd make the man upstairs seem like an angel." He leans closer. "Leave the power alone."
"I will," I whisper.
"You will what?" Holly asks.
"Nothing," I say, panicking as I realize that the thin-faced man has tricked me into replying to him.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Holly adds, putting a hand on my shoulder. "If you want to talk about anything, I'm here. Let's try to help each other."
I shake my head.
"You don't want to help me?"
I shake my head again.
"You don't want me to help you?"
"She's persistent, isn't she?" the thin-faced man says.
"Leave me alone," I mutter, before hurrying across the room, making my way to the far corner. Right now, I just want to be alone. I don't want to talk to Elizabeth, or Holly, or the thin-faced man. I just want to sit in the shadows and pretend that I don't exist. At least that way, no-one will talk to me or ask me to do anything.
"Natalie!" Holly calls out.
Ignoring her, I sit in the corner and draw my knees up to my face, trying to curl into a ball. I look back across the room and see that Holly's staring at me, and the thin-faced man is standing right next to her. Elizabeth is over by the sink, washing some cups. In a strange way, the whole scene seems very natural and normal, and I find myself wishing that things could be like this all the time. Instead of participating, I could just draw back and be an observer.
"See?" Elizabeth says, glancing over at Holly. "You've upset Natalie. I hope you're happy."
Taking a deep breath, I realize that maybe the thin-faced man is right. Maybe it's getting too crowded down here. Elizabeth is becoming more and more of a dictator, and I can't help thinking that things would be better if she wasn't around. I look over at the sink, and I start to imagine the knife that's apparently lurking behind the bricks. If the thin-faced man is telling the truth, I could use that knife to cut Elizabeth's throat. Until this moment, I never thought I could do something like that, but now I realize that I could. God, forgive me, but I could. I try to imagine myself stepping up behind her, reaching around and slicing the blade through her flesh; I try to imagine her blood pouring down onto my hands as she drops to the floor and the life floods out of her body. As a chill passes up my spine, I realize that it's possible. I could do it. I could kill her. I'll add it to my list of things to do today.
Ben Lawler
Today
&
nbsp; I don't know how long I spend on the ground, but when I eventually regain consciousness, I immediately feel a sharp pain on the side of my head. Sitting up, I look around and realize that there's no-one nearby, and I spot a large beam of wood on the floor next to my leg. Glancing up, I see that a section of the doorway is missing. Rubbing the sore spot on my head, I realize that a rotten section of the frame must have fallen on my head just as I was passing through to the hallway.
"Fuck," I mutter, picking up the piece of wood. I guess I was lucky not to get more seriously hurt.
Slowly, I get back up and brush bits of old wood off my shirt. I lean out into the corridor and double-check that there's no-one around. I guess at least I know now what caused the banging sound earlier; this place must be falling apart. The house didn't attack me. It's just an old, dilapidated building in urgent need of repair.
Reaching down, I grab my camera and find that despite having been dropped, it's still recording. I hit the 'stop' button and rewind the footage to the start, and then I stand for a moment and watch the footage on the screen. After a few seconds, I start skipping through the recording. When I reach the section where I came upstairs, I set the playback to normal speed and watch the image as I move through to the room with the bath. After a moment, I realize that I'm starting to feel a little nervous. It's almost as if I'm expecting to find that I've captured some kind of ghostly image on the recording, but sure enough I eventually reach the part where there's a sudden bang and the camera drops to the ground, with the block of wood falling from the doorway and knocking me out.
I watch as the camera continues to record the image of the doorway. This is the part where I was passed out, and as I watch the screen, I realize that there's an extra sound coming from the tinny little speakers. I lean closer, and finally I hear what sounds like footsteps, getting closer and closer. After a moment, I see a faint shadow on the wall outside the doorway, and finally I watch as a figure steps into view. I turn and look over my shoulder, but the room is empty; glancing back at the screen, I see that there's a man standing over my prone body, staring down at me with an impassive face. It's hard to make out too much detail on his face, but it looks as if he's quite tall and he has an unusually thin and narrow face.
Seconds later, I see my body start to move, and the man walks away from the doorway. Realizing that the footage has caught up with the moment where I came around, I stop the playback and head out into the corridor. My heart is pounding as I realize that I've got absolute, incontrovertible proof that there was someone here. All I need to do now is get this back to Joe Kukil, see if he recognizes the figure, and then go to the police with the video. Once they see that someone else has been here, they'll have to believe me when I explain that I wasn't the one who put Samantha into the ice bath. I don't know whether the figure is a ghost or a real man, but he was here, and he must still be here right now.
Suddenly my phone rings. Pulling it out of my pocket, I see that Joe is trying to get hold of me.
"It's okay," I say as I answer. "I'm fine."
"You were supposed to call me," he replies, not sounding too impressed.
"I'm sorry. I just... I'm going to come over, Joe. I've got something you need to see."
"You found something?"
"I'll explain when I get to your place," I reply, hurrying along the corridor and making my way down the stairs. "Something happened, but I've got part of it on video. I think it links in with what you were saying about there maybe being someone else involved. I'll come and see you later." Turning, I look across the empty room and once again I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched. "I've got to go," I add, cutting the call off before making my way through to the kitchen.
I pause for a moment, listening to the silence of the house.
"Hello?" I call out. My heart is still racing. Although there's a part of me that wants to go looking for the man who appeared in the video, there's another part of me that just wants to get the hell out of here. Finally, resisting the urge to be brave and stupid, I hurry through to the next room and push the metal plate away from the window. It's a relief to finally get outside, and as I walk away from the house I can't help but look back and wonder what I just saw. I stop at the end of the garden and watch the video again, just to make certain that I didn't imagine the whole thing. Sure enough, the footage still shows the man coming to the doorway and looking down at my prostrate body. I rewind and watch it again, and then again, but each time it's the same: there's that figure standing and watching me.
"Mr. Lawler!" a voice calls out suddenly, and I look up to see two police officers making their way toward the house.
"It's okay," I say, "I'm leaving."
"Put your hands behind your head," one of the officers says as he reaches me. His colleague has his hand on his holster, as if he expects to draw his gun at any moment.
"It's really okay," I continue. "You don't need to over-react. If Joe Kukil sent you -"
"Hands behind your head," the officer shouts as he reaches me. "I won't ask you again."
"I'm just -"
With no warning, the cop grabs my arm, turns me around and pulls me back. Seconds later, I feel a pair of handcuffs lock around my wrists. I was hoping this was just going to be a reprimand, but I guess they're going to read me the riot act.
"What the hell are you doing?" I ask, struggling to get free. "Look, I know I'm technically trespassing, but -"
"Ben Lawler," the cop says, starting to lead me to the car as the other cop grabs my arm to help pull me along, "you're under arrest for the attempted murder of Samantha Briggs."
"Attempted murder?"
"Looks like she's not coming out of her coma," he says. "Word is, the charges'll be upped to murder within twenty-four hours. She's not got long left."
"Are you kidding?" I say, trying to pull away from them. I swear, there's no way Samantha should be close to death. I know she went through a lot in the house, but it seemed like I got to her in time. I thought she'd be okay once I got her to the hospital.
"We've been looking for you all morning," the cop continues as we reach the car. "Should have known you'd be out here. Fortunately, you tripped a sensor the second you went in through the window."
"A sensor?" I ask.
"The Mayor had the whole place wired up yesterday. Anyone goes in or out, they break a beam and we get a signal." He pulls the door open and pushes my head down as I get into the back seat.
"There's been a mistake," I say, starting to panic. "I didn't hurt Samantha. I saved her. If you call Joe Kukil, he'll confirm everything I'm telling you."
"I'm not going to be calling anyone, Sir," the cop says as he and his colleague get into the car. "I'm going to take you to the station, where you'll be formally read your rights and informed of the charges against you. You'll be offered -"
"I know how the law works," I reply. "You have to go into the house. There's someone in there. I saw a man."
"The sensor indicated one intruder," the cop replies. "Not two."
"But he's there," I continue, unable to hide my frustration. "Look at my camera. You'll see him in the video. He's real!"
"Someone'll look at your camera at the station," the cop says, starting the engine. He sounds a little bored; to him, I'm just some crackpot who's been caught wandering around an old house. "I'm not here to pass judgment on you, Mr. Lawler. I'm just here to take you in."
As we drive away in silence, I realize I've been a complete fool. Not only did I fail to stop Samantha going to the house, but I went back myself and gave the police a perfect reason to pick me up. I couldn't have made myself look more guilty if I'd tried, and now I'm going to be framed for the accident that left Samantha in a coma. Turning and looking back at the house, I can't help feeling that whatever's lurking in there, it's laughing at me. Worse, it's going to claim another victim soon. I don't have any doubt that another girl is going to wander into its clutches and end up in the ice bath.
Natalie
; 15 years ago
I wait all day, until finally Elizabeth and Holly wear one another out with their incessant arguments. They barely even stop to eat, constantly going on and on about what they should do and how we should try to find a way out. Sitting in the corner, I try to ignore them, but it's impossible: for most of the afternoon, they sit on opposite sides of the basement, calling out to one another. Eventually I try to take a nap, using some pieces of toilet paper for earplugs, but nothing works. Their arguments go on and on all day, until eventually the pair of them calm down. Finally, the silence washes over me and I carefully dig the pieces of toilet paper out of my ears.
I take a deep breath.
It's time.
Once I'm sure that the others are asleep, I crawl across the floor until I reach the sink. My heart feels so much bigger than ever, ready to burst out of my chest, and I can't stop thinking that the mere existence of the knife will be hugely significant. After all, if the knife is hidden behind a loose brick, the thin-faced man must be real; how else could he tell me something that I didn't already know? Taking a deep breath, I reach out and run my fingers across the brickwork under the sink, and soon I find that one is slightly loose. I give it a gentle tug and it falls out, and then I reach my fingers into the hole and, sure enough, I feel the blade of a knife.
It's real.
Which means he's real.
God, why have you put me in this situation? Of all the people in the world, why me? Did I do something wrong? If I knew, I could change it. Is this your way of punishing me for being weird? Sometimes I think Elizabeth's right and I am childish and stupid. I didn't ask to be weird. Why did you make me like this?
Carefully, I pull the knife from the hole and examine it in the shaft of moonlight that's streaming through the window. It's a fairly large knife with a serrated edge, and it's certainly more than enough to end Elizabeth's life. I can't help feeling a little offended that she chose to hide such a thing from me. Was she keeping it back in case we ever needed to defend ourselves from our captor, or was she worried that one day she'd have to use it against me? All my life, even before I was kidnapped, people thought I was a little strange. I guess Elizabeth picked up on something and decided she couldn't quite trust me. It's a shame, really. For a while, I allowed myself to believe that she was my friend, but she's like all the others: when she looks at me, she sees a weird, curled-up little idiot.