 “I’m glad you decided to come with me,” admitted Mary. “I know my way around here like the back of my hand and I know I’m not afraid of the dark, but it’s good to have company.” “I know, with the recent events, I’m beginning to wonder if Ira inherited a horror house instead of a vacation house,” said Reine wryly as the two woman walked down the foyer back to the living room. The fire in the living room was also unaffected by the power outage, but the flickering flames gave off strange shadows that danced across the room. Some of the light caught into the dead eyes of the hunting trophies mounted to the walls giving the room a macabre look. “Sometimes I wished Ira didn’t have to decorate this room with all those deer and moose heads,” the housekeeper said, continuing on to the dining room after she had taken a candle from the mantle and lighted it with the hearth fire. “Sometimes they give me the creeps.” “So it was Ira’s idea to put all those heads up there?” “Actually, it was her husband’s. Besides collecting books for the library, he was also a rather avid hunter. He would take the boat all the way to the other side, the other shore, mind you, and not just the island, and go hunting in the woods either by himself or with another buddy. He always brought back a kill to be beheaded.” “Perhaps that was what the Baroness dreamed about,” Reine mused. “The decapitations, I mean. I wouldn’t blame her for being rather disturbed about the whole thing.” “Me either.” There was a little light still coming into the dining room from the living room, but once they had entered the kitchen, everything was completely dark. Only the solitary candle that Mary carried gave out light. The tiny pool of light seemed weak compared to the encroaching darkness. “The flashlights and the rest of the candles are in a drawer at the end of the kitchen,” said Mary. “With all these blackouts, it would have been more convenient to place them in the living room.” A loud creak sounded overhead. Then a scrapping sound echoed into the kitchen from elsewhere. Reine thought she heard a faint hiss near her ear. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering and wondering whether she was having auditory hallucinations. “Did you hear something?” “You probably heard the house settling,” the housekeeper replied, apparently unconcerned as she reached the target drawer and opened it with a squeak. Reine edged closer to the light and the housekeeper. “I thought wooden houses settled. Not stone ones.” “Well, this one settles. Oh!” The candle’s light wavered and the taper slipped from Mary’s fingers. It fell and hit the floor. Automatically, Reine grabbed a flower vase she saw on the kitchen counter and dashed its watery contents onto the flame to prevent it from spreading. The light went out in a loud sizzle. “Good thinking Reine,” said Mary. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what made me be so clumsy.” A chuckle surrounded them in the darkness. “Did you hear that?” Reine whispered. “Yes,” the housekeeper’s voice wavered. The chuckle seemed to grow louder. Pretty. All mine. “Did you say something?” “No.” You’ll be pleased. Reine shivered again as she felt something cold and clammy trace the back of her neck and briefly touching her shoulders. A dark pressure trickled along her chest. Hm. Soft. Too many layers. “Reine,” Mary said faintly. “Are you touching me?” “No. My hands are gripping the edge of the counter. Get a flashlight, Mary. Turn it on, now!” There was a sudden clatter as the housekeeper frantically fumbled in the kitchen drawer. The laughter was definitely louder now, bordering on maniacal. The pressure became harsher. Reine could hardly breathe. Suddenly, the flashlight flicked on and the chuckling disappeared. Reine looked down at her sweater and saw nothing. She touched her neck and felt nothing, not even a drop of sweat. Mary was visibly trembling. “Help me get the rest of the lights, Reine and let’s get out of here.” © 2002, S. Y. Affolee |