Darkhouse (Experiment in Terror #1)

by Karina Halle

  I reached out and grabbed his arm firmly. It felt nice. There was muscle under there after all.

  “Who the hell is Old Roddy?” I said angrily. I was sick of feeling like I wasn’t being told the whole story.

  Dex was silent. I shined my light in his face, causing him to squint harshly.

  “If you don’t know then I don’t have time to explain,” he sneered in the brightness. He eyed my hand on his bicep. I didn’t let go.

  “Make time,” I said.

  Then, from above, another thump. This time much louder than before. It definitely was not the sound of a door banging in the wind.

  Dex stiffened at the sound. He looked at me intently, then relaxed. I let go of his arm.

  He leaned in and pointed above.

  “Old Roddy is the lighthouse keeper.”

  I didn’t get it.

  “There is no lighthouse keeper here. My uncle doesn’t employ anyone, there isn’t even a damn light up there,” I said.

  “Yeah, well, rumor has it that Old Roddy’s been here all this time.”

  “All this time? How long is that?”

  “About eighty years, maybe more, maybe less.”

  “That’s impossible,” I scoffed.

  “I know. Like I said, that’s why I’m here.”

  I took in a slow, deep breath. Whatever Dex was saying wasn’t making any sense to me, and even worse, the more I tried to make sense of it, the more I felt dizzy and disoriented. This situation, this Dex guy, it was all too much for me to process. And unfortunately, when my mind couldn’t properly process what was going on around me, my panic attacks start to kick in and weird shit happens.

  “I need to go lie down,” I said quietly.

  He cocked his head, curious, and reached out for my hand.

  He didn’t give it a comforting squeeze, though, which any normal person would have done. He just pulled me closer to him and led me up the next flight of stairs until we were now on the floor above, where the last few thumps had come from.

  With my breath and heart stuck in my throat, Dex illuminated the level. It looked exactly like the one below it, save for a desk in the corner. The doors were also closed. And no lighthouse keeper was to be found.

  Suffice to say, I had a bad feeling about all of this. Whether it was due to the creepiness of the whole situation or that I should probably head back before people started to worry about me, I couldn’t say.

  Plus, I was starting to question the sanity of Dex and his quest for some lighthouse keeper who clearly didn’t exist.

  “You know—,” I started to say.

  I was interrupted by the door, which blasted open (by itself again) and swung back and forth wildly on its hinges, connecting against the wall with a BANG.

  “What the fuck?” I yelled above the noise. It was literally the only thought I had in my head.

  Dex took a curious step towards the animated door, the breeze from its steady swinging movement ruffling his hair.

  He aimed the camera on the door for a few moments, the eerie glow adding to the mystery, and then shone it on me.

  “What do you make of it?” he asked.

  The light was blinding me.

  “Are you seriously filming me?” I yelled.

  BANG!

  The same sound of doors flying open and shut came from downstairs. The noise was overbearing and within seconds the whole lighthouse was vibrating sonically. I immediately put my hands over my ears. I could feel it in my fillings.

  I took a shaky step towards Dex hoping for some comfort in a beyond-terrifying situation. The only thing he did was aim the camera back on the door, which was still flying open and closed as if some invisible angry teenager was slamming it. He took my hand off my ear and placed my own camera in it.

  “You might want to film this!” he bellowed above the din.

  Though filming was the last thing on my mind, I did what he said.

  I made sure the camera was still recording and focused it on the door and Dex. With my ears exposed, the sound shook me from the inside.

  I managed to record at least thirty seconds of the phenomenon until my vision was suddenly wiped out.

  A white, overpowering light filled the room. My hand completely disappeared in front of my face, as if I was being airbrushed into oblivion. I shut my eyes in pain and crouched low on the ground, my senses knocked completely off balance.

  The white, nuclear light, the banging doors, and internal vibrations—was this the apocalypse?

  I positioned myself so I was closer to where I assumed Dex was and opened my eyes through the spaces between my fingers. It hurt too much to keep them open for more than a second at a time, but I didn’t see him anywhere.

  “Dex!” I yelled as loud as I could. I looked around me but all I saw was whiteout. Where was this horrid light coming from? Was I dying?

  A movement from the direction of the staircase caught my eye. There was a dark shadow of a man (or creature) wavering in the light. It came closer and closer. My mind instantly conjured up images of alien abduction. Every single X-Files episode started flashing through my mind.

  The shadow kept coming. For some reason I thought I should get the cause of my impending death on film, so I pointed my camera at it.

  I closed my eyes, made a silent prayer and braced myself.

  But…silence.

  The noise and vibrations had stopped and the light behind my sore eyelids was quickly fading.

  I opened my eyes to complete blackness, with throbbing fuzzy dots filling my vision. It was almost scarier than all white blindness. Someone could have been standing a few feet away from me completely undetected.

  Slowly, I got to my feet and flicked on the light of my camera, bracing myself for illuminated terrors and the things that went bump in my night.

  There was nothing. The darkness remained. My camera was unresponsive.

  “Fuck,” I swore under my breath. I tried to examine it in the dark but all I could figure was that the battery must have died. Great fucking timing.

  I took in a deep breath and tried not to let the wild feelings take over, that the blackness was alive and ready to eat me.

  “Dex,” I called out. I was still, listening, but heard nothing except my voice echoing across the hallway. Where the hell could he have gone?

  “Old Roddy?” I joked, half hoping some decrepit lighthouse keeper would answer me. It was better than this unnerving silence.

  There was still some moonlight coming in through the windows and that soft illumination was enough to put the idea in my head of getting downstairs and getting the fuck out of there.

  I had inched over to the staircase and was just about to step down on the first step when another light came on below.

  What now? I couldn’t take much more of this.

  But it wasn’t like the apocalyptic virtual H-bomb going off. It was a weak light, which danced on the staircase walls and then settled in one spot. If I were to head downstairs, I would walk straight into its path.

  It reminded me of Dex’s camera light. In fact, I was certain that’s what it was. But in my heightened state of paranoia, I wanted to make sure before I began my descent.

  “Dex, is that you?” I asked rather loudly. No answer. “Dex, I can see a light downstairs. Is that coming from you? Dex, answer me!”

  Still nothing.

  I didn’t know what to do. The fear was palpable; it was physically running up and down my arms in prickly flashes, swarming my body, flaming my racing heart and my throbbing head.

  I must have stood there for five minutes just listening for any sounds whatsoever, terrified of what I might find downstairs. My imagination was conjuring up images of kelp come to life, like some kind of monster. Where was Dex then? Where did he go? Why was the camera light on and not moving? One part of me believed he must be playing a cruel joke. The other part thought he was dead. Or worse.

  And with that thought in mind, I slowly made my way down the stairs. I winc
ed at the creak of each step, though I’m not sure why I bothered trying to be quiet. The moon disappeared behind the clouds, making the light below look sharper and colder. Sly shadows of creepy crawlies skittered across the sweating walls. I turned at the landing and made my way down the rest of the staircase.

  The light was now in front of me on the ground, aimed at my feet. I stopped, wishing I could see beyond the glare.

  “Dex?” I whispered. “Please answer me Dex, this isn’t funny.”

  If he was trying to freak me out, he succeeded, and I knew he would hear the terror in my cracking voice. But still...there was nothing.

  I took a deep breath and bent down to pick up the camera. Only it wasn’t a camera at all. It was a flashlight.

  Confused, I turned it over in my hands. Did Dex have a flashlight before? I was wracking my brain trying to remember when I heard a low groan. Not the groans of a person (or a thing) mind you, but the impersonal sound of a door opening on its hinges. It came from the door to the right.

  I aimed the flashlight into the blackness. For a split second, I was afraid I was going to see something vaguely horrifying like Dex standing in the corner of the room and staring at the wall (yes, the last scene of the Blair Witch Project came to mind) but instead the hall was empty. Nothing there except the door leading to the circular room, which was now wide open.

  I shuffled toward it and stepped inside.

  It was a bedroom. At least it had been at one time. Now all that was left was a thick wooden bed frame that looked partially burnt, a side table with a stack of books, and a wardrobe in the corner. On top of the wardrobe was a porcelain washbasin, with a mirror propped up against the wall. The flashlight’s reflection glared sharply in it.

  There was a round porthole-type window facing the ocean, coated with a thick layer of grime and salt. Something about the window registered in the back of my overworked brain.

  Had I been here before? Was that...possible?

  I took a few steps closer to the window when—

  BLAM!

  The door slammed shut behind me.

  I screamed and dropped the flashlight, the light spraying the walls as it landed on the ground with a clunk. I winced and quickly scooped it up. The light wavered and then started to fade. Panicking, I shook it hard but the bulb had been jarred out of place from the fall. There was still light, but it was growing weaker by the minute. That, or the darkness was growing stronger.

  That’s when it happened. That’s when it hit me.

  A light from the hallway went on.

  The edges of the door glowed amber.

  The image seared into my head and, like pieces in a puzzle, it slowly fit together with another image that came shooting out of my memory.

  My dream. This was my dream. My breath caught in my throat as all the puzzle pieces found each other. The round room, the porthole, the light outside of the door. Sure, I wasn’t standing in a nightgown and barefoot, but it was the same place. It wasn’t possible by any earthly means, and yet…

  I wasn’t sure what it meant either. Things were the same but different. Was it going to follow the direction of my dreams? Was the door going to open with some black, shadowy menace enveloping me into certain death? Was the man in my dreams Old Roddy?

  Or Dex?

  Maybe, I thought quickly, this was a dream. That thought gave me a bit of courage.

  I swallowed hard and walked over to the door. I listened. I couldn’t hear a thing from the hallway.

  I grabbed the knob and tried to turn it.

  It wouldn’t turn. It was stuck.

  I yanked on the door, panic rising from the floor. I started throttling the thing, my hands sweaty and slipping. This was my nightmare. My worst nightmare was coming true. I was locked inside. Someone, something, had locked me inside.

  “Dex!” I screamed, and started banging on the door. “Please, someone, anyone, let me out, please! Pleeeeeease!” I screamed that last word, loud and shrill, hurting my own ears. Screaming seemed like the only thing I could do.

  I screamed again and hurled myself at the door, even though it opened from the inside. My camera swung from my neck and smashed against it but I didn’t care. I had to get out. I put both hands on the knob and pulled until my hands lost their grip and I flew backwards, landing on the hard floor. A pain shot out from my hipbone but I scarcely felt it.

  Then everything turned black. The light outside the door disappeared and the door outline faded into the abyss.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up with icy precision. I knew something was on the other side of the door waiting, listening.

  I lay on the floor watching breathlessly, my body rigid and braced for action.

  The door creaked open, slowly.

  At any moment I expected to see a tall, black figure appear in the doorway, make its way over to me, and smother me with its nebulous face.

  I waited. The terror was indescribable.

  But nothing happened.

  I took a few seconds trying to mull the situation over but everything was coming up blank.

  And so, propelled more by instinct then consciousness, I leaped to my feet in one go and took off like a shot.

  I ran through the door without casting a glance around me. I ran down the stairs until I slipped on the turn and was launched against the slimy, weeping black wall. I had no time to be horrified at the grossness. I regained my footing and leaped over the last few steps and on to the ground floor.

  I wheeled towards the open door and burst through.

  BLAM!

  I collided into something large and heavy. Again.

  I let out a blood-curdling scream and I stumbled from the impact. I might have had an out-of-body experience at that moment. I never knew I could scream like that.

  The figure was screaming back at me. I didn’t know if it was an echo or what, but I wasn’t going to wait to find out.

  I scrambled on my feet, slipping a bit from the goo under my treads, and the thing reached out and steadied me.

  “Perry!” I heard it say.

  How did it know my name? My head reeled, my heart pounded, and all instincts still told me to run for my life.

  I was about to when it shook me.

  “Perry! It’s me!”

  Me? Dex?

  No.

  In the light of the waning moon, Matt thrust his face in front of mine.

  “Holy fuck, you scared the hell out of me,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

  “Matt?” I asked incredulously. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “What am I doing here? Perry, what the fuck? What are you doing here?”

  “Matt?” I could hear Tony’s voice calling from upstairs. “Is that her?”

  I turned and saw Tony coming down the stairs, his phone in one hand and a huge industrial-looking spotlight in the other. He saw me and let out a sigh of relief.

  “Perry, thank God, I almost called dad.”

  Matt put his hand on my shoulder. “What are you doing in here?”

  I had a hard time composing my thoughts and my breath, so I just shook my head and gave myself a moment.

  The twins stared at me, more curious than concerned.

  “What were you screaming about?” Tony asked.

  “Did you leave this?” I managed to ask Matt, holding up the dying flashlight and ignoring Tony’s question.

  He nodded. “Yeah I put it there so Tony could find his way back downstairs. If he used that spotlight in here it would blind us all. This thing is pretty intense.”

  “Huh,” I mused, not sure what to make of that. “Was that what that blinding light was?”

  The twins looked at each other and shrugged.

  “Ada was shining it on the lighthouse from the outside,” Matt said.

  Ada. Her name sounded so sweet and familiar.

  “Where is she? Is she OK?” I asked anxiously.

  “She’s fine,” Tony said warily. “She and Whiz are waiting outsid
e. Are you OK?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  Matt laughed. “How drunk are you? Next time you want to go exploring the lighthouse, just tell us, OK? I mean, are you fucking nuts coming here? Alone? At night? This place gives us the creeps in the daytime.”

  Tony nodded. “I can tell some fucked up stuff has gone on in here. We even get phone calls from ghost hunters and shit wanting to film it. It has a history or something.”

  Ghost hunters? Filming? Suddenly it was all beginning to make some sense.

  And then I remembered Dex.

  “Did you see anyone else in here?” I said slowly. “Or hear anything?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “You didn’t even hear me yelling? For Dex?” I asked.

  “I heard you screaming your head off,” Tony said. “Who’s Dex?”

  I shook my head. Scratch that. Nothing made any sense at all.

  “We should go back,” Tony said gently, perhaps sensing my mental fragility. I nodded, done with talking. We carefully exited the lighthouse through the broken window. I hoped I never had to step inside of that place again.

  There was a comforting sense of normality outside. Ada and Whiz were making out around the corner. OK, that wasn’t the first thing I wanted to see but the minute she saw me, she stopped sucking face and came running over. She threw her arms around me. Not a normal move from her.

  “Thank goodness!” she exclaimed, slurring. “I thought you were dead. Or that maybe you jumped off the cliff.”

  “That’s nice,” I said blankly.

  We started walking back towards Uncle Al’s place.

  “Did ya see anything fucked up?” Whiz called from alongside Ada.

  “I thought I did,” was all I said. If Matt and Tony were roaming the lighthouse while I was inside, and they didn’t see any sign of Dex, maybe Dex never existed. Maybe he was just another one of those imaginary friends of mine, long lost since childhood. I looked down at my camera. It wasn’t working, which meant any proof of what happened would have to wait until I got it fixed. I hoped it wouldn’t cost me a lot of money.

  I sighed with some effort, suddenly overcome with acute mental and physical exhaustion.

  I was so tired that when we finally made our way back to the house and put out the bonfire, I nearly passed out on the pull-out couch with my clothes on. Ironically, drunken Ada was the more coherent one.