House of Shadows

by Darcie Coates

  This looks familiar.

  She turned left and thought she recognised the door at the end. She went to it as she wiped her bloodied hand clean on the already-stained dress. She then sucked in a deep breath and opened the door.

  A huge window filled the wall opposite. The favoured view. This is my room. And yet… it’s not.

  The furniture was gone, save for the wardrobe in the corner. There was something wrong with the cupboard, though; it was the same size and colour as Sophie’s, but the wood was decayed and crumbling, and black stains spread out behind it to grow across the walls like weeds.

  Sophie moved towards the window. The woods were visible in a strange, sickly green light. The trees were all dead and empty. Black branches stretched high above Northwood’s roof, creating jagged matrixes across the tinted sky.

  It’s like a mirror dimension. The same house, but changed.

  A creak startled Sophie, and she turned. The wardrobe door was inching open. A slender, white hand stretched through the gap, and Sophie stumbled away from it.

  “No, please…”

  Marie’s dead face followed the hand as she crawled out of her home. She was fresher than the other corpses and still recognisable. But there was nothing friendly about the gaze she turned on Sophie. Her mouth opened to expose the rows of pointy teeth as she took a rocking, erratic step forward.

  What has this house done to you?

  A faint hiss escaped the open mouth. Sophie skittered backwards into the hallway and slammed the door behind herself.

  “I’m so sorry, Marie,” she whispered. A scrabbling, scratching noise came through the wood as the corpse tried to claw its way out of the room.

  Sophie stepped away from the closed door. Her heart ached, and her limbs were weak and shaking. She wiped sweat away from her face then turned back to the hallway. If this is a mirror of Northwood, I should be able to explore through it. Where should I look, though? Where would Joseph go?

  She didn’t dare call for him. The corpses seemed to respond to noise, and she couldn’t risk attracting more.

  Would he stay on the third floor? Or maybe go to the dining room, or the kitchens…?

  Sophie clasped the candle in front of herself. She only knew one path through Northwood—the way from her room to the staircase—so that was the path she took.

  She moved quickly but cautiously and glanced around corners before passing them. She thought she could hear the corpses’ faint scratching noises deep in the building, but otherwise, Northwood was quiet.

  She’d never hated the mansion as much as she did at that moment. The mirrored red-and-gold wallpaper was sickening. The air left a bad taste on her tongue. Every creak and distant groan made her shiver. But she couldn’t leave until she’d found Joseph—even if she had to search the entire building.

  A strange blue light came from farther ahead, where the passageway opened onto the stairs. Sophie slowed to a creep as she edged nearer, then she bent forward to look around the wall’s corner.

  The foyer, normally a cold, empty expanse, had been decorated with rows of torches around its perimeter. Their flames had an alien blue-white tint, which only barely lit the room. The tiles had changed to a deep-black shade, which gave Sophie the impression of a dark, shiny lake. A rifle lay discarded not far from the base of the stairs. In the centre of the foyer crouched the Grimlock, with Joseph crumpled at its feet.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: The Grimlock

  Sophie clamped her hand over her mouth to smother her cry. Joseph lay on his back, his arms spread and eyes closed. He wasn’t moving.

  The Grimlock bent low over Joseph’s torso, its jaws working as it ate him. It pulled away with a sickeningly wet tearing noise, and raised its head to stare at Sophie.

  It was a thousand times worse than the drawings had prepared her for. Naked, all glistening black and nearly twice as tall as a man, the Grimlock could have stepped out of her worst nightmares. Instead of fingers, long, sharp claws extended from its hands. It crouched and moved like an animal, but the two large, glowing white eyes held a cruel human intellect. Shark-like teeth, which dripped blood, filled its maw.

  Joseph’s blood.

  Sophie screamed. She stumbled down the stairs recklessly, but her legs failed her on the last step, and she collapsed to the floor. A high-pitched ringing noise filled her ears, and her limbs felt numb.

  He can’t be dead. He can’t.

  The Grimlock rose from its prey, and an icy chuckle filled Sophie’s ears as it stepped over Joseph. “Good morning, little lamb.” Its voice sounded like bone being dragged across stone; it was deep and cruel and made Sophie flinch. “Such a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

  Unable to bring herself to look at the Grimlock, she focussed on Joseph. His face was dead-white. She couldn’t tell if he was still breathing.

  The Grimlock took a languid pace closer. It moved with animalistic grace, but bent low so that it could scrape its claws across the black marble. “You’ve made such a poor choice tonight, my pretty,” it murmured, grinning. “Your dear husband bought your freedom with his life. There was nothing I could have done to prevent you from leaving my home if you’d tried. But now, look—you’ve negated his sacrifice by giving yourself to me. So thoughtful. I’ve starved these last eighteen years; tonight I will feast.”

  Hot, raging fury filled Sophie. Between the pain, her terror for Joseph, and her hatred for the creature in front of her, no room for fear remained. She pulled the letter opener free from where she’d hidden it in her dress and ran at the Grimlock.

  Its maw widened into a vicious smile, and it spread its arms, as though welcoming her attack. Sophie hit its chest with all the strength she possessed and plunged the blade deep into where the heart should have been.

  She felt the Grimlock’s cold, slimy flesh under her fingers. Its breath, saturated with rot, washed over her. Sophie released the blade and staggered backwards.

  The Grimlock raised its claws, fixed them around the letter opener, and drew the blade from its breast. The knife clattered to the floor. A hole fluttered open in the beast’s chest, then the skin began to knit back together, closing the wound as the Grimlock’s laughter filled the foyer.

  “Well, well, you have some fight in you after all,” it purred, then swiped Sophie aside with a flick of its hand.

  The impact tossed Sophie through the air. She slammed into the floor and skidded over the tiles before coming to rest against one of the pillars. A burning pain flashed across her ribs, and she coiled over as she fought to drag air into her lungs. Her eyes watered, blinding her.

  The Grimlock stretched, arching its back, then began stalking closer. “It’s been a pleasure, dear Sophie,” it cooed. “You’ll forgive me if I finish this before we can know each other more. Your novelty is wearing off, and I would greatly like to make use of your primary purpose—food.”

  Its claws fixed around her torso and lifted her until her feet dangled above the ground. Sophie tried to beat the hand away, but the pain was debilitating, and the Grimlock was too thick-skinned to feel her punches.

  It opened its red-streaked mouth, then a crack split the air, and Sophie dropped to the ground. Her leg twisted under her, and her stomach heaved, but she managed to roll backwards to get clear of the Grimlock. Looking up, she saw a hole had appeared in the centre of its head. The lamp-white eyes widened in surprise as it turned. Sophie followed its gaze, and what she saw could have made her cry.

  Joseph had dragged himself across the tile, leaving a streak of blood in his wake, to reach the gun. He couldn’t stand—or even sit—but he’d rolled onto his side and propped the gun over his arm to aim at the Grimlock.

  The intense, wolf-like desperation filled his eyes as they met Sophie’s. He opened his mouth, and dark blood flooded from it as he rasped a single word: “Run.”

  He re-aimed the gun and fired a second time. A fresh hole appeared in the Grimlock’s neck, burrowing directly through its spine. The creature didn’
t even flinch.

  “You’re tenacious, aren’t you, Joseph?” The holes were already knitting together as the Grimlock abandoned Sophie. “You must be very fond of her.”

  Joseph fired a third time. Sophie saw the hole appear in the Grimlock’s back and heard the clicking noise as the bullet lodged in one of the marble pillars behind her. The Grimlock bent, plucked the gun from Joseph’s hands, broke it in half and discarded the scraps.

  This is all my fault, Sophie thought as she watched the final hole repair itself. Sickening despair rose in her stomach. I thought its heart was its weakness—but it’s not. It can’t be killed. And now Joseph is going to die because of my advice.

  The Grimlock brought its foot down on Joseph, slamming him into the ground. Joseph gasped in pain, but it was a weak, barely there noise. The Grimlock crouched low over him to whisper, “I’m in no hurry. You know, she doesn’t need to be alive for me to consume her. I’ve always liked you, Joseph; I think I’ll let you watch her die.”

  Joseph’s eyes widened in abject terror. Sophie tried to stand, but the burning pain in her chest kept her from straightening, and dizziness made her topple back to the floor.

  “Come, my pretties,” the Grimlock cooed to the darkness, and the scuttling, scraping noises of a hundred desiccated corpses suddenly filled the room. “Have some fun.”

  The ghostly shapes materialised at the edges of the blue flames’ light. Countless empty eyes fixed on Sophie as the dead began hissing their delight. The closer ones crouched and began creeping towards her.

  Joseph was fighting, but the Grimlock was too strong.

  “How long do you think she’ll scream?” the Grimlock whispered.

  No, we can’t die. Not like this.

  Sophie looked to one side. There was one small splash of colour in the otherwise-cold blue room: the candle she’d dropped at the foot of the stairs still flickered, its pale-golden flame glowing like a beacon.

  The corpses burn, she remembered, and lunged towards the light.

  Dead skin grazed her arms as the creatures snatched at her. Sophie threw herself forward with everything she had. Hands fixed around her ankles, tumbling her to the ground. She glanced behind herself, but there were too many of the dead for her to fight her way free; instead, she rolled onto her stomach. The candle sat barely two feet ahead. She dragged herself closer, using her sweat-dampened palms to pull herself over the floor. The bodies crawled up her legs and scrabbled at her back, their weight forcing the air from her lungs.

  “Do you really think you can escape?” The Grimlock’s scraping voice rose into smug laughter.

  It thinks I’m trying to get to the stairs. Sophie threw her arm forward and felt the warm wax cylinder under her fingers. Let’s see what it thinks of this.

  She stabbed the candle at the closest corpse. The body was so dry that it responded like fine kindling; the flame caught, plumed, and spread across the torso. The corpse wailed and threw itself away from the candle, bumping into its companions and unintentionally spreading the flame.

  Sophie rolled onto her back and waved her flame across the corpses clinging to her legs. Shrieking filled the foyer, echoing off the walls and high ceiling and making Sophie squint against the noise.

  The Grimlock’s bellow cut through the wails. “What have you done?” Abandoning all elegance, it bounded towards her, its face contorted in range… and fear. Its glowing eyes widened as its maw stretched. “Stupid child, I’ll see you suffer for this.”

  The burning corpses were spreading; they had crowded so tightly around Sophie that the fire leapt across them like lightning. They fled for the shadows as they shrieked, blindly bumping into each other and trailing huge clouds of inky black smoke and hot embers.

  The Grimlock screamed and bounded after the bodies. It seemed to be trying to corral them back into the foyer. Some part deep in Sophie’s mind thought this had to be significant, but her fear for Joseph pushed aside every conscious idea. She crawled to him and pressed a hand to his cheek.

  His eyes fluttered. His breathing was a sick, rattling noise. Sophie glanced about the room and felt tears rise as she saw how much blood he’d spilt. She brushed his sweat-slicked hair away from his forehead and gave him a shaky smile. “Hold still. You’re going to be all right.”

  His hand found hers and pressed it as he wheezed, “Get out.”

  “Not without you.”

  Sophie stroked his face as she looked around the foyer. The fiery corpses had spread through the house, but she knew they wouldn’t stay lit for long—the hand had burnt away within a minute. How long would a full body take?

  She guessed they likely had only seconds before the Grimlock returned, and both she and Joseph had to find somewhere safe before then. But Joseph couldn’t stand, and she wasn’t strong enough to carry him. Can I make a pallet and pull him on it? But the red door is on the third floor—I can’t get him up the stairs like that.

  “Get out,” Joseph begged. He took her hand from his face and tried to push her away, but Sophie didn’t move.

  “We’ll be fine. I just need a minute!”

  Panic choked her mind. She couldn’t see any way to move Joseph—let alone move him safely. His shirt was shredded, and she couldn’t bring herself to see how bad the injuries underneath were. For all she knew, he might already be as good as dead.

  Don’t think that. You’ve come this far—he can’t leave you now.

  Smoke was filling the room, making it hard to see and stinging Sophie’s nose. She could still hear the corpses burning in the distance.

  Wait… not the corpses. Something larger.

  Sophie looked over her shoulder, towards the dining room. A deep-golden glow flickered through the doorway.

  The house has caught on fire. I should have expected it to—there’s so much old wood in this building, and the corpses were bumping into furniture and the walls.

  Then a new sound drowned out every other noise. It was a deep, protracted, bestial wail, filled with fury, terror, and pain.

  The Grimlock.

  That was when the clues fell into place for Sophie. The book said to destroy the Grimlock’s heart. But what if the heart isn’t a literal, physical organ? What if it was meant to be symbolic, such as a vital and cherished object? A house, for instance. A house that was built to the Grimlock’s minutely detailed specifications. A house that sometimes feels alive. A house that bleeds.

  “Northwood is its heart,” Sophie breathed.

  The flames were spreading. She could hear the fire’s roar coming from multiple doorways and mingling with the Grimlock’s screams. Joseph’s eyes had closed. His breath had become shallow gasps. Sophie pressed a kiss on his forehead, and a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be bad to die like this. The Grimlock didn’t win. The house didn’t claim us. We fought back, and our deaths bring about our victory.

  She could run, as Joseph wanted her to, and she thought she could reach the third floor and find the red door before the fire overtook her. But that would mean a future without Joseph. The small emotion that had once fluttered weakly in her chest had attached itself to her heart, then spread through her veins to every part of her body like a beautiful, perfect poison.

  I wouldn’t be sad to die with him.

  Sophie leant onto her side so that she lay next to Joseph. She put her head into the crook of his neck, placed her hand on his shoulder, and closed her eyes. As long as the Grimlock didn’t return first—and she thought it would be too preoccupied trying to save the house—the smoke would simply pull them into a sleep they would never wake from.

  With her eyes closed, she was able to focus on the small sounds and sensations. Joseph’s heart still beat. The pulse was weak, but it gave her comfort. There were deep cracking noises coming from farther in the house where the walls and floors crumbled. And, almost inaudible through the fire’s deep roar, was a voice.

  Sophie opened her eyes and sat up, frowning. She could
have sworn the voice had called her name. Then, a second later, it yelled, “Joseph!”

  Garrett.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: Flight

  Sudden, panicky hope sent Sophie stumbling to her feet. “Garrett! Down here!”

  A figure appeared at the top of the stairs. It froze for a second to take in the scene then bounded towards them. Garrett’s round, moustached face came into relief as he burst into the circle of light.

  He pushed past Sophie to kneel by Joseph. He gave his nephew a light shake, pressed his fingers to Joseph’s neck, and swore.

  “Can you run?” he asked Sophie, and she nodded. “Good. I’ll take Joseph. Stay close.”

  Garrett pulled Joseph’s torso over one shoulder and lifted him. Sophie hovered beside them, shaking and terrified that the motion would be more than Joseph could endure. Garrett hitched his nephew higher then led the way back towards the stairs, glancing to each side as he moved.

  “What the hell happened here?” he asked.

  Sophie had neither the breath nor the presence of mind to explain the full story, but she said, “Destroying the house will kill the Grimlock.”

  Garrett made a small choking noise and stopped walking. “You’re certain?”

  “Mostly.”

  He took a deep breath and resumed climbing. His normally dull face twitched and spasmed as confusion, fear, and hope fought for dominance.

  Sophie looked along the second floor as they passed it. She could see fire at the end of the hallway and even feel a little of its heat on her face. A crunching noise rolled through the building, and the stairs shivered under her feet.