by Edward Flora
After months of searching for Leida Nielsen, she had been found dead. Cause of death is being ruled as suicide by hanging. Nielsen was found in the attic of the home she once shared with her late husband, Marshal Nielsen. Leida had been linked to the disappearance and murder of young Lauren Rivers over the summer. A recent tip from a local resident led police back to the Nielsen residence after initial searches inconclusively found the home to be abandoned.
Dani threw the final newspaper clipping back into the chest. Her eyes darted around the room, looking up at the ceiling rafters.
Someone hung themselves up here…
She reached to close the chest, then immediately pulled her hand back in hesitation. She wanted no part of this scene any longer. Whether to leave the chest open or closed became an unimportant detail in her frantic desperation to get out of the attic.
The image of the statue forced itself back into Dani’s memory. The faded brown Kevlar rope draped over the shoulders was not a coincidence. The room began to spin. Was that the same rope that crazy woman hung from up here?
Dani felt sick to her stomach. She left the attic, making her way down the stairs as fast as her feet would allow her. She picked up the phone and dialed Michael. Her sweating hands shook so badly, she could barely navigate her phone in order to make the call.
She stood in the kitchen, nervously tapping the counter with her fingers. Deep down, she knew he was probably the wrong person to be calling while she was in a panic.
Beepbeepbeep beepbeepbeep
This was the most irritating ring Dani had ever heard before, but the sound gave her an odd sense of comfort. At least for a moment. A temporary distraction from the awful rope now back to haunt her conscious.
“Where are you?” she muttered out loud and was about to hang up when her brother’s voice greeted her.
“Hey, Dani.”
“Michael, I need you to do me a favor.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone wary as he sat downtown, his Ford pickup parked on the corner of Main Street, as he watched Peter appear from the bar.
“I found out something horrible about this house and Peter has been hiding it from me.”
Silence.
“Hello?” she snapped.
“Sorry…I just saw something,” Michael said as his face turned red with anger. “Do you know where Peter is right now?”
“Huh? What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I’m looking at him walking out of a bar right now.”
“Michael, please don’t approach him. I just need you to come by with boxes. We had an agreement and I think it’s time to move back home.”
“You got it,” Michael hung up the phone and hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “Dammit!” Nobody was going to make a fool of his family.
THIRTY-TWO
Peter’s run clocked in at just over 53 minutes. A solid effort considering the light dusting of snow on the ground. Piermont had a unique allure to it in the early winter. The sights on his run had evolved with him over the past couple of months. The once soft views of the lake now glistened harshly under the winter sun. The reflection was almost obnoxious in nature, but Peter enjoyed the warmth hitting his face. He had no trepidation about the events preceding the winter. It was all in the past. He had come so far throughout the course of the winter that he deserved to reward himself in the form of a Maker’s Mark. Every once in a while, a little bit to warm the body in the winter wouldn’t hurt. He felt confident. So much so that trips to the bar began to replace stopping at the bookshop.
As his house came into view, he stopped to take it in. It really was a beautiful house. He and Dani always dreamed of having an old-style colonial home. As he stood there, absorbing what was his, it almost didn’t feel real. The white layer of snow on their lawn gave the property an even more picture-perfect look to it. The sky-blue door with rustic white accents and the brass “108” proudly displayed above the mail-slot created a grand entrance. The house served as a strong book-end on the street it lived.
Peter looked on, thinking: This is just a house.
The idea that some bad mojo resided in the structure on Parkridge Way was just silly. There was nothing wrong with it…There was nothing wrong with him. It was all smoke and mirrors. He chuckled at the concept as he pulled the headphones out of his ears and headed inside.
“Dani?”
The house was empty. Strange that she wasn’t home.
It was unlike her to leave or go out somewhere without giving him any sort of warning first. Especially since he had only been gone for about an hour.
“Babe, you down here?” Setting his running jacket down at one of the dining room chairs, Peter confirmed Dani wasn’t on the first floor. He noticed the book she was reading still on the couch.
Peter headed upstairs. “Dani?”
Still no answer. He shrugged it off deciding to clean up from his run and hopped in the shower. Maybe, wherever Dani had gone off to, she’d be back by the time he’d freshened up and they could enjoy the rest of their weekend together.
Getting out of the shower, Peter took a look at himself in the mirror as he had every morning. Pride at staying in shape and keeping the motivation going throughout everything washed over him. He always feared as he approached his 30’s that he’d lose what came so easily to him. So far, that didn’t seem to be the case. He grazed the full beard now budding on his face. So much for the fresh start, he thought to himself, noting the clean-shaven look he opted for on day one in the new home. Dani liked a little bit of scruff, but in recent days, she did say that it was becoming unruly.
Peter dried off and got dressed, completing his post-run ritual. He entered his office; the view of the lake looming in the distance was breathtaking. The lower temperatures gave a glistening texture to the surface of the water, which wasn’t quite frozen solid, but it gave the illusion it could be walked on. The untouched snow surrounding the lake was something out of a calendar. It was pristine with no trace of human contact. Inspired by the beauty, Peter drew from this and began writing a slew of new ideas that sprouted from his mind like a fresh crop. New views, new settings, and fresh ideas had Peter feeling unstoppable and more driven than ever.
Lighting a fresh candle before sitting down, he anticipated the scent of mahogany teakwood that would help keep him in a relaxed mindset and stay focused. An initial discharge of smoke rose from the wick hitting Peter’s face as he shook out the match. The scent of burning candles brought him back to his childhood. It reminded him of freshly blown out candles of a birthday cake. The ashy smoke had the same essence regardless of the candle’s scent.
Peter sat down at his desk staring at the laptop. He couldn’t wait to show Dani the work he had completed. This being another feat he reached over the winter. He sought to be more open with Dani and shared with her what was going on in his mind. He wanted her to be proud of him. To know he had done something good…he also thought it strange how the laptop was open. It had been powered down earlier and closed.
He got back up from his desk, returning with a computer cloth in hand to wipe down the screen and keys. An open screen left the machine more susceptible to dust and other particles getting in between the keys. He certainly couldn’t work under those conditions.
As he gave his station a final wipe, assuring it was up to his standards, the screen came alive. The brightness caused Peter to squint. It caught him off guard for a second. He must have hit a button while wiping the keys.
The screen displayed his finished work. His passion project. The piece that had consumed him and been with him through many changes in his life. This work had been a part of him for years. It had been there, evolving with him through everything. His trials and successes of the past three years had their own stamp somewhere within his novel. Many parts of his writing spoke to the impact Dani had in his own life.
Such as the excerpt which currently flashed on the screen.
The pair trekked along the
snowy path in Central Park. Still a secret to many, their budding relationship knew few places in which it could be itself. The isolated path in one of the deepest corners of the Park was one of those places. The snow on the ground made the trails difficult to navigate, causing a decline in the foot traffic that section of the park would normally see. He reached out to her, as there were not many opportunities to hold hands or act like a couple. They weren’t really a couple…but they felt like they were. They hadn’t even kissed yet, but they both wanted to. As he reached for her hand she gave him a playful look. She ran up ahead just a little bit before stopping in the snow and turning back to face him again. It was only them, the frozen lake, the bare trees and the slippery path covered in snow and ice. She called out to him and talked about this trust game they would play. However, this time with the added element of the slippery ground, it added a bit of danger to the equation.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
He remained silent but stood there bracing himself, not taking his eyes off her. She started towards him, not quite running, but fast enough to knock him over had she simply collided with him.
She jumped and he caught her in his arms, barely keeping his footing steady and preventing them both from falling onto the snowy ground.
They stood for a very brief moment, one that felt like minutes but in reality, lasted maybe seconds. He held her and she wrapped her legs around his torso. He looked up into her eyes, and they locked. He wanted so desperately to kiss her and felt her energy signaling that she wanted to as well. But as fast as that moment sprung upon them, it was yanked away and she punched his shoulder and landed back on her feet, away from his arms. She began to walk away.
Peter pulled away from the screen, reflecting on a moment in his real life that inspired the scene. It did not fit. Much had changed since he wrote the scene. Both in his novel itself as well as in his real life.
Something loomed over him as he read the words he had written years ago. They were now ancient. An energy pushed him away from the state of mind he had been in when he wrote this part. The sentiment was gone. Although he never met the two characters depicted, he knew them better than anyone. He created them. He was them. But not anymore.
He gave one final scan over the small section of words that once upon a time was him. They no longer belonged in the grand picture. He punched the “delete” key and got up from his desk. A light stream of smoke rose from the burning candle wick, spraying the room with a subtle hint of mahogany as he left the room.
THIRTY-THREE
Dani drove towards Main Street in anger. The only place she felt could give her the answers she sought was the same place Peter spent much of his time. She wasn’t entirely sure whether learning the information would benefit her but she needed to know.
Dani pulled the door handle to let herself into the bookshop.
An overpowering sense of déjà vu swept over her. Although she had never physically been here, she sensed Peter’s presence before even entering the building. She knew what she would discover beyond this door had the potential to change everything, yet she moved forward. There was no going back from here.
Tony looked up from behind the front counter as Dani entered the shop. She took everything in. Although, there wasn’t much to take in. She felt a bit underwhelmed. The place was run down. More so than she expected it to be. For Peter to spend so much of his time here, expectations were certainly higher. The big reveal turned out to be a disappointment. However, there had to be something that drew Peter here since it certainly wasn’t the aesthetic.
Based off Peter’s descriptions and hours of conversation, Tony recognized Dani right away. Her body language also gave her away. Nobody stormed into a book shop with that level of purpose and fear as Dani just had. He knew exactly why she had come. Although his warm demeanor didn’t change, painful memories flooded him again. That didn’t stop Tony from greeting her with his famous smile.
Dani approached the counter swiftly. “Tony, we need to talk about Peter.”
Tony hesitated before engaging in the conversation. He knew this discussion needed to happen but he knew it would hurt. His lungs labored to take a deep breath. He exhaled with apprehension; coughing painfully which gave him the temporary ability to barely bring oxygen into his lungs.
“Dani,” he began. “First off, let me just say, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“You know me?”
“Peter admires you greatly,” Tony answered cordially. “He talks about you all the time and when you walked in the door, it was undeniable you were the woman he had described. He is very attentive after all.”
“That’s very kind of you to say, Tony.”
He patted his hands together.
“But I know why you’re here. I was excepting you sooner but Peter has bottled things up well. He’s good at hiding himself. And based on your urgency, I take it that something has happened at home. I’ve seen this before…but I’m old now. Too old to get involved. It still pains me greatly to see someone delve into this dark path again. Seeing it again doesn’t make it any easier. Especially someone as kindhearted and brave as Peter is, sometimes the forces of the mind are too much.”
Dani chewed at her lip, shrouded in the shadows of the towering bookcases. “Tony, I found something very disturbing in our attic. I’m freaked out. Newspaper articles about a murder. It took place in our house! Peter has seen things, which we both wrote off as his anxiety playing tricks on him but that’s not the case…right? It’s something more. Something is actually there, isn’t there? And you know what it is?”
“I do…” he paused again. “There are no tricks in that house. Everything is real. I lost two dear friends in that house. Leida caught her husband in an affair. She lost it and killed him. They never found out until after she ultimately took her own life. She lost her grip on reality. For her, reality became everything she found in these books.” Tony motioned one hand through the air at the walls surrounding them.
“What are you telling me?” Dani asked. “Has Peter lost his grip on reality?”
“I’m telling you Peter hasn’t written a thing. The stack of pages on his desk…simply a recount of what happened in his own life. From losing your first baby to the accident. He hasn’t dealt with it then and he isn’t dealing with it now.”
“But he did so well. He went to therapy, he changed everything around.” Tears began to roll down Dani’s cheeks.
“Surface level. He’s more fascinated now with what happened in that house fifteen years ago than any created original story. He’s created his own reality. Soon enough he’ll lose his ability to tell the difference.”
“But what happened before? What is it? I need to know if we’re in danger.”
“15 years ago, she was angry then and she’s angry now. He was everything to her though. Taking his life didn’t satisfy the betrayal. She felt such rage she developed a hunger for death. You need to leave that house.”
The shop began to feel vast and empty. The far end seemed to stretch beyond the back wall and into a void. The dimness didn’t help as no natural light touched the inside of the shop. It looked like you could be swallowed by the darkness if you spent too long back there.
Dani felt uneasy about the situation but she questioned further.
“But why is this happening to us?”
Tony wheezed and looked at Dani with bereavement.
“Leida found comfort in the wrong place. A dark place where myself or anyone could follow. I watched it unfold and I feel guilty for standing by but there was nothing to be done. Once she started down this path, however, obsessing about pleasing this dark entity she became fixated on. She found a place to direct all of her unused energy and she gripped it tightly.” He paused and struggled to draw in another breath. “She became a murderer. Upon learning what pleased this made-up figure, she acted on the twisted words in these occult manuscripts… She took our daughter.”
“Lauren Rivers…” Dan
i cut in.
Tony just looked back at Dani. She was right.
“Oh God…”
A wave of dizziness swept over Dani and she could barely stand. If it wasn’t for the wall behind her, she would have gone straight down. Regaining her bearings, just barely holding herself up against the shelves, she looked back in Tony’s direction, who stood solemnly behind the counter.
“How?” She could barely focus a concise train of thought. “You knew…you knew we lived in that house. You didn’t say anything to Peter.”
Tony lowered his head.
“He came into the shop one day asking about an old photo he found. It was of her. I knew he would find it out on his own after…”
“After what?” Dani demanded.
“The key...” he went on. “Peter took a key from this shop a couple of months ago. I wasn’t angry with him. I didn’t even feel betrayed. I knew this was part of something Peter needed to figure out for himself. And he is. He’s figuring this mystery out little by little. In fact, he’s figuring out much more than he had bargained for…right about now.”
As Tony said those final words, he vanished before Dani’s eyes. Suddenly, the shop morphed from a sad little fixture into its true form. An abandoned haven for words and memories collected over time, now left to be forgotten, collecting only dust.
Reality barreled into Dani’s senses head-on like a semi. The façade had vanished. Left behind was the truth of what Peter had been doing these last few months. He had been trespassing on a
foreclosed property. What was even more disturbing was the fact that he had built a relationship with an apparition. Unless the forces at play had deceived him just as they had done to Dani.
THIRTY-FOUR
Peter sat there scanning over his work. He used this quiet house as an opportunity for productivity. He punched away at the keys, almost unconsciously. Without even needing to check where he last left off. He instinctively knew already, forming words together like laying down train tracks. Each punch of the keyboard another stake connecting the bigger picture together.