by Carrie Bates
The duo wasted no time. As soon as the realtor was gone and the keys to the house were in their hands, they began unloading their possessions and carting them into the house. There was no vestibule leading to any of the first floor rooms. This was a feature that Leonard could appreciate due to his claustrophobia. Leonard often bemoaned his childhood home for its many narrow hallways. Instead, the house immediately opened into a parlor with great oak staircases swirling upwards on either side. The living space was left of the parlor, and the kitchen was right of the parlor. The interior of the house possessed a simple layout, with large lounge-worthy rooms and enough details to keep an eye interested for ages.
“Catherine?” Leonard called. The moving boxes were stacked so high, Leonard was unable to determine Catherine’s whereabouts. Catherine stuck her arm out from behind a stack of boxes.
“Behind here,” she responded.
Leonard grunted as he put down a particularly heavy box. “That’s the last of them,” he informed her. Catherine took Leonard’s arm just then, directing him towards the staircase.
“Uh, Honey, it’s only the afternoon, I’m not sure going to bed really makes sense right now,” Leonard joked.
Catherine laughed sarcastically. “Stand right here at the base of the staircase and tell me what you feel.”
Leonard obeyed. “I don’t feel anything,” he told her.
“Seriously?” Catherine said. “I was standing there a moment ago and felt an intense chill. It was really… unnerving.”
Whore. Look at that low-cut shirt you are wearing. You are just like my worthless daughter.
Catherine jumped. “Did you hear that?” she shouted at Leonard.
Leonard looked at her like she was crazy. “Hear what?”
“Never mind, I thought I heard something.” She shook her head, trying to remain calm but the icy chill in the room and the nasty words coming from out of nowhere had Catherine on edge. I must just be tired from the move and the life change we just made. Get a grip, Catherine, this house is a new start for us. Get some extra sleep tonight, and everything will be fine.
Chapter Two
Several weeks had passed since Catherine and Leonard’s arrival in their new home. Their boxes had been unloaded, the vintage furniture pieces that came with the house had been sent away to be re-upholstered, and they’d gone to numerous antique shops in search of the right décor to complete their new home. Leonard had begun his new job with a construction company. He was quickly climbing the corporate ladder within the company, which was one of the reasons they’d been able to make their necessary payments on the house. They’d also received inheritance money on Leonard’s side of the family after the passing of his mother during the winter months.
It was an overcast day, and Leonard was away at work, leaving Catherine alone in the house. Lately, she’d been feeling uncomfortable in the house. Naturally, Leonard wanted the two of them to stay in the master bedroom. However, every night they’d slept in that room, Catherine experienced vile nightmares. She woke up screaming on more than one occasion. Each dream had one common element - choking. Catherine’s sleep had been plagued with scenes of her own death. They would start benign. Catherine would see herself having tea outside by the rose bushes. Then all of a sudden, she would feel her throat close up, as though she was having an anaphylactic reaction to something. Her chest would constrict, squeezing the air from her lungs and bursting the blood vessels in her eyes. She’d awake screaming and gasping for air.
“Poor Leonard,” she thought. Catherine’s constant night terrors had prevented Leonard from getting a good night’s sleep. Leonard came home from work each day pale and exhausted. The couple recently made the decision to switch bedrooms. Since making that decision, Catherine’s sleep had been much better. Catherine wondered why the master bedroom sent her dreams spiraling into the abyss. At times, she would be rearranging furniture in the house only to have to stop because she felt as though someone was watching her. Whoever it was who was watching her did not approve of her presence in the house. It was as though a previous owner―perhaps an old, haughty aristocrat―still dwelled in the house. The aura Catherine felt was one of pretentious discrimination. It was the countenance of a traditionalist who cared far too deeply about social standing.
As a result of this frightening ambiance, Catherine spent most of her days avoiding certain rooms of the house and making every excuse to leave the property.
“It’s just stress,” she told herself. She was currently seated alone at a Starbucks, sipping an iced latte. Although she possessed a coffee maker, Catherine had left the house to purchase coffee as a means of avoiding the unsettling disposition she sometimes felt in the kitchen. “This is just your mind and body adjusting to the change,” Catherine continued to reason.
“Why, hello, there!” A friendly greeting made Catherine jump. “Oh, I’m sorry, Dumpling,” the affable woman apologized, “I didn’t mean to startle you. My name is Nadine. I’m a regular here and know almost everyone who visits this place…except for you!”
Without Catherine’s invitation, the woman took a seat across from her. She looked as though she was in her mid-forties and sported a hairdo reminiscent of the eighties. She smiled; her teeth were far too white.
“What are you doing around these parts?” Nadine asked.
Though she wasn’t in the mood for conversation, Catherine politely informed the woman of her recent move into the Redding house. As soon as the name ‘Redding’ left Catherine’s lips, Nadine’s eyes bugged out of her face.
“The Redding house?! Oh, my God! You are a brave one! That place gives me the creeps!” Nadine exclaimed.
Catherine’s stomach turned. Her heart rate increased, and it wasn’t just because of the recent caffeine uptake.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Nadine continued, “the property is breathtaking… literally, though!” she laughed for an uncomfortable length of time. “Like, every time I pass that place I can’t seem to catch my breath.”
“Really?” Catherine acted surprised. She knew exactly what Nadine meant. “Do you, um, know anything about the people who lived there before us?” Catherine was scared to hear the answer to her question. She wanted to clap her hands over her ears.
“Hmmm.” Nadine thought for a moment before responding. “Well, the last people to live in that house were Ken and Riley. They were a lovely couple… but, you know… they…fought a lot,” Nadine paused apprehensively.
“I see…” Catherine responded.
“Yes, well, their lives were none of my business,” Nadine yammered on. “I wonder whatever happened to them. I once saw an ambulance outside of the house. Though, I didn’t see an obituary in the paper so I guess they’re still alive… I think.”
It was at this point that Catherine decided she would rather suffocate in her own house, than bear one more second with Nadine.
“It was lovely to meet you,” Catherine said, pleasantly, “but I have some work I need to do inside the house. I’ll see you later.”
“You know where to find me!” Nadine called after her. It was an odd thing for her to say, given she’d just met Catherine. “Be careful now,” she added.
Catherine was relieved to see Leonard’s car in the driveway when she returned to the house. He was unlacing his steel toed boots as she came through the door.
“Hey, Love. Where were you at?” Leonard asked.
“Uh,” Catherine hesitated. She was reluctant to tell Leonard about the unsettling atmosphere she’d been experiencing in the house. The move didn’t seem to be affecting Leonard the way it had been affecting her. “I wanted to get out, so I went for coffee,” she explained.
“Okay.” Leonard kissed her cheek. Catherine could tell he knew something wasn’t right with her. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” he said, touching her face delicately.
“I know,” Catherine said. She averted her gaze to the floor.
“Then tell me what’s wrong,” he
probed.
“There’s something in this house, Leonard,” she uttered, “I can feel it.”
Chapter Three
“Come here, Sweetie.” Leonard took Catherine by her hands and led her to the chaise lounge that sat on the wall dividing the two staircases. “This is just stress. Nobody is in this house except you and me… and possibly one of those whimsical flat-faced cats at some point.”
Catherine smiled. Leonard always knew how to make her smile. “I can’t explain it,” she said, shaking her head, “some of the rooms in this place make my skin crawl.”
“Well…” Leonard grinned devilishly and slid closer to Catherine. “Perhaps I should give you a bodily inspection to ensure you don’t have cooties.”
“Perhaps later,” Catherine replied, winking cheekily, “I should think a scheduled appointment this evening would suffice.”
This scheduled appointment came and went. Catherine was deemed free of cooties. Although satisfied with the thoroughness of her bodily inspection, Catherine still dreaded the day to come. Again, Leonard would go off to work, and again, Catherine would be left alone in the tense atmosphere of the house. She had planned to begin wallpapering the sunroom in a pastel yellow. For a sunroom, it was awfully dark. The walls were currently coated in an ill-suited maroon. It wasn’t at all the color a sunroom ought to be.
The room was located at the side of the house, adjacent to the kitchen. It was meant as sort of a dining area; a place where one could sit and enjoy their toast and jam in the morning sun without being outside. Catherine dreamed of lounging in the room during a rain storm. The rain would wash down the tall, narrow windows, and Catherine could watch it with a cup of tea in hand, dry and happy… that is, if the house ever allowed her to be happy.
There was one rather prominent problem that came with wallpapering the sunroom - the wallpaper was in the attic. Catherine had purchased the wallpaper around the third or fourth day since their move. Leonard had gotten the wild idea to store it in the attic, where it would be sure to remain dry. Catherine wasn’t sure she could brave going up into the attic after the extreme dark impression she’d been getting from the house. She couldn’t even stand to sleep in the master bedroom! What horrors would she feel in the attic?
“All you have to do is grab the wallpaper and go,” Catherine thought. She took a series of deep, even breaths as an attempt to calm her mind. The breathing was a trick she used to calm down her students when they were upset. The technique worked. Catherine drifted off into the land of the unconscious, and experienced no nasty nightmares.
She awoke the next morning feeling somewhat optimistic due to the peaceful sleep she’d received. After a cup of coffee and some fresh fruit, Catherine was ready to brave the attic. But something on the floor of the kitchen, beside the trash can, caught her eye.
“Cyanide,” she read out loud. What the…
Catherine closed her eyes. Had Leonard put that there to kill rats or something? She didn’t remember him saying anything about rats or any other animals that were running rampant in their house. Catherine felt nausea rising up in her. Did they have rats? She shuddered. Why didn’t Leonard tell me?
Put it out of your mind. You haven’t seen rats running around in here. Maybe Leonard saw them outside? Just ask him when he comes home and calm down!
The attic was located in the room next to the master room. It was the smallest of all the bedrooms. Leonard and Catherine had decided to potentially turn it into an office where Leonard could work. For the time being, however, it was a junk room.
Catherine’s heart hammered anxiously as she opened up the footstool. The attic was located through a trap door in the ceiling. The hinges squealed painfully as Catherine unlatched the door. A somewhat fickle looking ladder slid downwards. It was stiff and took a bit of force in order for it to make contact with the floor. Catherine’s hands trembled terribly as she mounted the ladder. She relaxed herself as best she could, using the same deep breathing exercise she’d used the previous night to help her sleep. The attic was like a black hole descending down upon her, threatening to swallow her whole. When she finally managed to claw her way into the ceiling, she found herself entrapped in darkness.
She took her phone from the pocket in her coveralls and used the light of its screen to brighten the space. It was stiflingly hot and smelt of mildew. Amongst the cobwebs, arachnid corpses, and graveyards of dust, the tubes of wallpaper sat. Leonard had clearly just tossed them into the space without first peering into it, as they were lying haphazardly in the corner of the attic.
“See, everything is fine,” Catherine thought to herself. “This is a normal attic – no rats.”
The attic was, in fact, abnormal. As Catherine neared the tubes of wallpaper, the temperature dropped gradually until it was so cold, Catherine was shivering. A feeling gripped her just then. It was an emotion. Sadness. Extreme melancholy. Without knowing why, Catherine began to cry.
“Why did you do this to me?!” she wailed. She did not will the words from her mouth. The words belonged to someone else… something else. Whatever that something was, it had crawled inside her, using her body like a shell for its shredded soul. The heavy grief lifted from Catherine’s body as swiftly as it had entered. Still, the sobbing continued. Consumed with terror, Catherine grabbed the tubes of wallpaper and darted towards the hole of light. It was this light, emanating from the exit, that lit up a frightening scene.
A woman sat huddled on the opposite side of the exit. Her knees were pressed to her chest, and her eyes were vacant cavities. Tears poured from her empty sockets as readily as water from a tap. The woman rocked back and forth in the fetal position, mumbling curses and flooding the area with her torturous tears. As the liquid vacated her orifices, it turned muddy, like stagnant blood. It smelled of a festering wound, poisoning the air with its putrid stench.
There was another presence close by. This presence was turning the grieving woman’s tears sour. Catherine coughed and spluttered as this hateful gas infiltrated her lungs, causing them to shrivel like grapes in the sun. She heard the tinkling of a bell. Catherine wheezed and hit the attic floor. Her limbs flailed desperately; her entire body writhed like a worm under a boot. Suddenly, everything went black. The ground gave way, and she felt herself fall.
Whore – you let me die…
Chapter Four
“Catherine?!” A worried voice called her name. The voice echoed and sounded as though it was traveling a great distance. Catherine’s eyes opened. The world was a mass of muddled colors. As her vision sharpened, her head began to throb.
“Oh, thank God!” Leonard breathed a sigh of relief. Her fiancé was leaning over her, a look of intense distress on his face. “Talk to me, Baby,” he urged, helping her into a seated position.
Disoriented, Catherine inspected her surroundings. She was on the floor beneath the opening to the attic. The memory of the girl with the hallow crying eyes returned to her in a horrible flash. She moaned.
“Take it easy, Love. You fell from the attic, didn’t you?” Leonard swore. He noticed the rolls of wallpaper lying next to Catherine. “I shouldn’t have put that wallpaper up there,” he said. “ I knew that ladder was a safety hazard! This is all my fault!”
“It’s not your fault,” Catherine uttered. “I was clumsy. I tripped and fell through the opening. Luckily, the ceiling isn’t too high in this room. I didn’t fall too far.”
“You fell far enough!” Leonard cried. “Dear God, Woman, I thought I’d lost you!” Leonard’s voice cracked. His eyes filled with tears. He wrapped his arms around Catherine. “You haven’t broken any bones or anything, have you?”
Catherine shook her head. The slight movement sent her vision spiraling. She immediately felt nauseous. She turned her head just in time to avoid coating her fiancé in vomit.
“That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital… right after I clean up your puke.” Leonard placed a number of cushions beneath Catherine’s head for support, while he
mopped up the contents of her stomach. “Good thing this carpet was ugly!” he said. He then helped Catherine to her feet, wrapping one of her arms around his shoulder for support. “Dang it, Woman! You went and gave yourself a concussion!” Catherine started to apologize, but was immediately shushed. “This isn’t your fault, Love. That attic is a hell hole! As soon as we’re back from the hospital, I’m bolting it off forever!”
Catherine spent the night in the hospital under surveillance. Apart from a concussion and a number of bumps and bruises, Catherine was okay. She was lucky the floor of that room was carpeted, as it had cushioned her fall. She was also thankful for her youth and strong bones. One thing she was not thankful for was the abysmal creature that lived in her attic. Whoever it was had clearly been on the receiving end of a serious injustice. The heartache Catherine had felt in the attic froze every cell in her body. Catherine’s intuition told her whatever being was responsible for the disconcerting aura that plagued a number of the rooms in the house, was also responsible for that woman’s hideous state.
Catherine was released the next day. Leonard had taken the day off to look after her. Catherine was thankful for his presence. The last thing she wanted was to be alone in that house.
“Why don’t I run you a bath?” Leonard suggested, as they entered the house. “I’ll make you a nice fruit cocktail, and you can soak your headache away in the tub.”
“I’m beginning to think I should have these concussions more often!” Catherine joked. Not surprisingly, Leonard did not laugh.
Like everything else in the house, the tub was a vintage piece. The porcelain coated tub had yellowed over time and was beginning to chip in areas, revealing the rusted wrought iron beneath. It most certainly needed to be replaced, however, Catherine couldn’t help but love it for its large volume and classic decorative feet. It was her first time bathing in the tub. Catherine luxuriated in the warm bubbly water, sipping on a strawberry-orange concoction of some sort. Leonard had presented it to her as ‘Le Jus de Leonard.’ Catherine chuckled, finishing the last of the cocktail. She then wondered how she’d explain what she’d seen to Leonard. Her fiancé wasn’t the sort to believe in the supernatural… then again, neither was Catherine. She lowered herself deeper into the tub. Her stomach sank with dread. What would Leonard think of her if she told him? Would he think her mad?