The House

June 13, 2003. Friday.

“I’m so full,” John Forbes said to himself.

Just at that moment a waitress, Mayling, her name tag said, arrived at his table and smiled. “Would there be anything else sir?” she asked in a Chinese accented voice.

“Not tonight my dear. I went to the buffet twice and indulged in two deserts. That was the best Chinese buffet I’ve ever had!”

“Thank you, sir,” Mayling said still smiling. “When you’re ready we can take care of your bill at the front counter.”

“It may be a minute or two before I can move,” John replied.

“When you’re ready sir and we hope you’ll return.” With this Mayling put his bill and fortune cookie on the table and walked away to another party of diners.

“Fortune cookies. Made by the thousands and stuffed with mindless sayings and lottery numbers. Oh well, let’s see what this one says.”

He cracked it open and took a bite. It’s crunchy sweet flavour tasting good and as he read it. A TIME IN YOUR LIFE IS ABOUT TO CHANGE. He chuckled to himself and turned the small strip of paper over to check his numbers. “What ... no numbers. Guess I won’t play the lottery tonight.” He read the words again shaking his head then stuffed the strip in his pants pocket.

Without looking John slid his chair back and pushed it directly into another diner’s chair. “Please excuse me sir. My fault entirely. I should have looked first. Many apologies.”

“No harm done and no need to apologize,” the other man replied with a smile. “Take all the time you need, and I hope the rest of your evening is most interesting.”

“You are too kind and thank you sir.”

John took his coat from the back of his chair and started thinking of what the other fellow had said. ‘The rest of your evening is most interesting.’ What an odd thing to say and did he stress the word time or is my imagination working a little too hard?

He paid his bill at the front counter telling the person taking his money that he would return.

He went outside to find that the wind had started to blow quite hard. “I didn’t forecast this in my weather report tonight,” he said pulling his coat tight and looked around at the other shops in the little neighbourhood mall. Only one other shop was open, and it looked like a

small curio shop. As the wind was getting stronger he walked over and went inside.

A curio shop it was and filled from floor to ceiling and wall to wall with things. The lighting was dim except where accent lighting was used to highlight specific items.

“Good evening sir,” a hunchbacked little man with sunken eyes said in a little voice. “Getting quite blustery out there now. Welcome to my shop. Is there anything in particular I can help you find?”

“Hello.” John replied. “I just came from the Chinese restaurant and saw you were open, so I thought I’d just drop in for a look.”

“Probably the best Chinese food in town at that restaurant,” the little man said then continued “Take your time and look around. On a night like this I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.”

John nodded politely and started looking and poking around at different things. A few minutes later he said to the little man “You have some amazing things here. I’ve never seen most of them before and have no idea what they are but they’re all interesting.”

“That they are sir. I’ve had a fascination for these types of things for most of my life. In fact, just about everything you’re looking at is from my own personal collection over the years.”

John could see the passion about the little man’s things in his eyes.

He studied John intently for several seconds as if he was trying to decide about him then said, “I have something quite unusual and I think you will be interested in it.”

“Really.” John replied rolling his eyes waiting for the sales pitch to come.

The little man went behind one of his counters and motioned with his hands for John to join him there. He reached into the counter and took something out.

John could sense the apprehension in the little man as he held a small, silver, cylindrical object in his hand. It looked about three inches long and about half an inch wide. “What is it? he asked.

“A light.”

John looked from the little man’s hand to his face. “Another flashlight I don’t need. Even a small one like that.” It looked like the apprehension had moved into the little man’s eyes and was getting more intensive as he looked.

“May I?” asked John as he took it from the others hand. “What makes it special?”

“It allows you to see things.”

“Lights generally do that.” John replied.

“Ah, but not like this one sir.”

John’s interest perked up a little. Mostly from the look on the little hunchbacked mans face with the sunken eyes and his own curiosity. He examined it closer, turning it over and around to get a good look. “How does it work? I don’t see where batteries go, and it has no switch. And that’s the strangest looking bulb.”

“The bulb is a perfectly set diamond sir,” the little man said then continued. “It uses no batteries and has no switch.”

“A diamond for a bulb?” John asked.

“Yes sir. Unbreakable and never needs replacing. Power comes from the reaction of the pure silver and your skin and as soon as it comes in contact with your skin it turns on. Put it down and it shuts off.”

“It’s in my hand now but I don’t see any light.” John said moving it around pointing at different items.

“It is not like a regular light sir. It illuminates ... “the little man hesitated ... “things.”

John let this point go and asked, “You said I will be ‘interested’ in this. Why?”

At that moment, as if on cue, a clap of thunder, so loud, changed the conversation.

“Sir, the weather is getting worse and I fear you may have trouble getting home if you stay longer.” the little man said with a very worried look on his face.

“Before I go, how much would this light cost?” John asked knowing that made of silver and a diamond for a bulb he could never afford it.

“No charge sir. It’s yours.”

“Did I hear you right? Did you say no charge?”

The little man was getting very anxious now. “The person that had it before had no further use for it and it was to be given to someone who was going to need it. It was never to be sold. Only given.”

“Are you saying that I’m going to need this light?”

“All I know is that it is yours now sir.”

“Who had it before?” John asked.

After a few very anxious seconds the little man said, “I did sir.”

John looked at the little man with the anxious look on his face as he stood behind his counter. John stuck out his hand that the little man took, and they shook hands.

“Thank you.” John walked to the door and just as he opened it a hard gust of wind blew it out of his hand. He turned to the little man and with a smile he nodded and shut the door behind him as he left.

“May you be safe on this blustery, stormy night sir.” The little man hunchbacked man with the sunken eyes said as he watched John walk away.

He walked past several of the stores in the mall, all long closed for the night, and came to the sidewalk beside the street. Here he stopped and looked up at the sky. There wasn’t much to see in the dark sky until a single burst of lightning illuminated everything in it’s eerie white light. Heavy, dark, ominous black and grey clouds filled his vision and the roll of thunder broke the sound of the wind in the trees lining the street.

“Several seconds apart so the center of the storm is still a few miles away.” John said to himself. “That gives me some time to get home.”

It was such a nice evening earlier that he decided he would go for the long walk from his house to the restaurant. He had no cash left after paying for the Chinese food and he didn’t have any credit or debit cards with him. He knew the buses had finished for the night and no taxi would take him without payment. His phone was at home in the charger as he wanted to get away from everything technical for a while so there was no way to call anyone for a ride.

He looked back at the curio shop only to find it in darkness. “I guess he’s gone so there goes that idea. Looks like I’m walking.”

Making sure his coat was done up he turned left and started walking. The wind was picking up its intensity and lightning was flashing more often now, and the thunder claps were much closer than before. “I think I’ll go up this street. It’ll save some time.”

As he turned onto the street the lightning became almost continuous and the booms from the thunder were deafening. “I’ve got to get under some cover and soon.” he said out loud. “There. A big old house with a covered porch. I just hope who ever is home doesn’t mind.”

There was no fence or gate separating the house and yard from the sidewalk, so John took the steps three at a time and just as he reached the top step the sky opened up and the rain fell heavily blown in every direction by the wind.

He stood under the cover of the porch, panting slightly from the sudden exertion, looking out at the street watching the rain and lightning and had a feeling something was not right. It was like he was being watched and whoever or whatever was watching him was trying to tell him something. As though he was being told to run. To get away. To leave where he was as quickly as possible and get to a place of safety. The feeling didn’t last long and faded away to nothing.

“I’m in a safe place for now and leaving would be suicide. The lightning would get me for sure.”

John turned around to look at the house from the front porch. The house seemed to be in complete darkness. Not the darkness from no lights but the darkness of emptiness. That thought sent a little shiver along his spine.

The bay window that extended slightly into the front porch had it’s curtains open and even though the house was dark he could see inside easily because of the lightning. He seemed to be looking into a living room and beyond that into what was obviously a large dining room. All the furniture he could see except for one chair at the far end of the dining room table had been covered with sheets. Very little detail was visible inside but from what he could see it looked as if it had been a very elegant house at one time.

The wind had increased and was just starting to blow the rain onto the porch. If he stayed outside he would eventually be very wet and miserably cold. Since the house appeared to be empty he decided to try the front door on the unlikely chance it might be unlocked. He walked to the door and put his hand on the handle and tried it. He was not surprised it was locked.

His hand was still on the door handle and he froze. He had the feeling he was being watched again. Being watched closely. Many seconds passed before he was able to move and let go of the door handle. Slowly he turned and shook his head. “It must be this weather playing tricks on me.” He said to himself. “Of course I’m being watched. The neighbours across the street must have seen me come up onto the porch and saw me try the door. They probably think I’m breaking into the house.” He laughed to himself. “Probably hear police sirens any minute now.”

He looked across the street and didn’t see anybody watching him. No doors were ajar, no curtains were open, nobody was coming over to find out what he was doing. No police sirens broke through the booming of the thunder.

There it was again. That very intense feeling of being watched. “Somebody must be home and my trying the front door disturbed them and now they’re looking out the front window to see what’s going on.”

He held his hands slightly out from his sides to show they were empty and slowly turned to face the window expecting to see someone glaring at him for trying to get into the house. Empty. No one was at the window. The inside of the house looked just as deserted as it did when he first looked in yet that feeling of being watched was even more powerful now.

From where he was standing the wind-blown rain was falling on him, so he decided to move between the window and the front door to lean against the house to get out of the rain.

In between the booms of thunder he thought he heard a click and a then a scraping sound. Suddenly he found himself falling backwards with nothing to grab and hold on to. Instead of leaning against the house he had moved too far and had leaned against the front door. Before he knew it, he was laying on his back on the inside floor of the house looking up at the entry hall ceiling.

He lay there for a short time, a little stunned but not injured. Propping himself up on his elbows he looked around and saw that the front door was closing all by itself. He heard a scraping sound and a click again then the door was closed.

“What the ... “he started but cut himself off as he got up. Trying the door he found it shut tight and securely locked. It wouldn’t budge.

“Great. Now I’m stuck in here. Has to be another way out.” he said. “At least I’ll be dry.”

Saying that, he glanced over at the window in the other room and noticed that the lightning had all but stopped and the thunder was so quiet now it almost couldn’t be heard. The wind was down to just a breeze and the rain had stopped.

The feeling he was being watched was still with him.

He slowly walked into the living room and was looking out the window when he saw all the lights go out. House lights and street lights. “Power’s out. Something must have taken a lightning strike and it’s anybody’s guess how long it’ll be out.”

The darkness on the street didn’t last long. He had just finished saying that when all the lights started coming back on. Houses were lighting up again and the street lights were flickering back to life.

All the houses except the one he was in.

“I guess this house took a direct strike earlier and blew the main breaker. If I could find a light, I’d go looking for the electrical box and see if I can get some power back in the house.”

The lightning and thunder had both completely stopped now. The usual noises of the night neighbourhood could again be faintly heard.

John thought for a moment. “Ah. The light that strange little man in the curio shop gave me.” He reached into his coat pocket and took it out. “Oh sure.” he said frustrated. “When your skin touches it, it comes on. Right.”

Nothing in the way of any light shone from it. He shook it and pointed it around. Still nothing. Just as dark as before. He was just about to put it back in his coat pocket when suddenly something appeared in the direction he was pointing it. Something white, or rather whiteish.

John blinked and then whatever it was had gone. He kept pointing the light where something had been, but it was just empty darkness now. Keeping the light pointing in the same place he slowly walked over to where he thought he had seen something and found nothing. A tremble, not a shiver, ran up and down his spine.

“This is crazy. Between that funny little man, the storm and this dark old house my imagination is getting carried away.” He said in a loud voice more to convince himself than for any other reason.

The street lights were shining weakly through the front window and John’s eyes were getting use to the dim light in the house. He had to find a light of some type, so he slowly and carefully started walking into the dining room. He could make out basic shapes like the table, chairs and the sideboard, all covered in white sheets. The sideboard caught his attention as it seemed to come to a peak in the middle of it where the sheet was covering it.

“Somewhere in this house there has to be a light. Has to be.” he said to himself.

As he was walking towards the sideboard he hadn’t been looking too carefully at where he was walking and bumped his shin on a small table just to his side. It startled him more than hurt. He rubbed his shin for a moment while pushing the table out of the way then continued slowly and more carefully to the sideboard.

The sideboard was covered with a sheet like the rest of the furniture and he could see that it was raised about a foot in the middle. When he got there he tried to remove the sheet but found it securely fastened in place. Not knowing what was under there he gently tried to lift it, but it would not move. He slowly and carefully ran his hand down the sheet to his right and when getting to the end could not see how it was fastened. No clamps, nails or screws were holding it in place. Checking the other side he found it the same. “That’s odd” he thought to himself. Without thinking he reached into his pocket and pulled out the flashlight. Being lost in thought he forgot it was not an ordinary flashlight and he aimed it to the end of the sideboard. He gasped and jumped back when he saw a pale, almost transparent, whiteish figure of a person leaning at the end of the sideboard with its arms down and hands holding the cover in place. When he jumped back he dropped the light and just before it left his hand it illuminated the other end of the sideboard where he glimpsed another pale, almost transparent, whiteish figure holding down the other side of the sheet.

He had jumped back with such a start that he should have fallen into the big, heavy, wooden table. He didn’t though. Something stopped him from falling back. Something very solid and soft.

Startled he took a big step forward and turned to see what had stopped him. Nothing. Nothing was visible except for the big, heavy, wooden table. He shook his head to try and clear his thoughts. “You’re losing it John” he said to himself and tried to laugh but couldn’t.

Turning back to the sideboard he could see in the dim lighting from the street lights that the sheet covering it was now just hanging on it. Draped over it. He stepped over and found he could move the sheet away from what it was covering. Dinner plates, side plates, gravy boats, cutlery, wine glasses were all arranged neatly on it as if getting ready for a gathering. In the center of the side board, about a foot high, was what John was looking for. A light. A storm lantern.

John reached for it and in his haste, it almost slid out of his hands onto the floor. “Be careful” he yelled to himself.

With much more care this time he held it up to the dim light coming from the living room windows. He could see it had a glass container on the bottom with something sloshing around in it, a handle attached to hold it and a glass chimney. “Please be fuel in there and not water and have a wick.” He held it close to his nose and could smell gas in it. Squinting his eyes, he saw a wick leading into the chimney.

“Yes” he shouted happily to nobody then quickly added “No. The wick draws the gas up, but you need something to light it.” His elation quickly turned to defeat, shoulders slumping.

“A match. My kingdom for a match. Damn. A lot of good this is going to do me.” While saying this he held the lamp tightly not wanting to drop it and started walking again. “Somewhere in this house there has to be a match.”

He started back the way he came and walked into that same little table as before. “Ouch,” he said. “That smarts.” He was once again rubbing the same shin trying to stop the discomfort when it suddenly came to him “I moved that table out of the way before and now it’s back in the same place.” He looked around but knew he wouldn’t see anything while he pushed the table out of the way again only to trip over his feet falling flat on his stomach knocking the wind from him.

It was quite the short juggling act while he was falling trying to protect the lamp. He managed to save it from breaking and was laying there trying to get his breath back. When he resumed something close to normal breathing again his eyes focused on that same table just inches from his face. This time, even in the dim light, he could see the table had a small drawer in it. He stared at the drawer for a short time while he considered it. “A drawer.” He thought to himself then continued “So what.”

The events of the evening must have been slowing him down. He just looked at the drawer knowing he should understand something but wasn’t getting it. “A drawer” he repeated. “What’s so special …” he broke off in mid thought. “A drawer holds things.”

He sat up putting the lantern carefully on the floor. With a bit of fumbling he could open the drawer. He leaned over and tried to see inside but it was too dark so put his hand in. Lots of papers, several small bottles, some pens or pencils and a small box that was rough to the touch on one side. “Nothing” he said to himself and closed the drawer. He stood up, started to walk away and in his disappointment forgot the lamp on the floor.

“Wait a minute” he said to himself as he spun around and went to the table. He pulled open the drawer and reached around finding the box. “Rough on one side” he mumbled to himself. Of course. Right size and shape and rough on two sides. “A box of matches.”

He was so happy on finding the match box he forgot about the lantern on the floor and kicked it over with his foot. “Damn” he said as he scrambled to pick it up. Some of the gas had leaked out but it was still over half full. He put it on top of the table where he couldn’t kick it again.

He shook the box of matches and his heart sank. It didn’t sound full. Slowly he pushed on one end realizing too late that it was upside down and the contents, or rather the single content, fell on the floor. The dark wooden floor.

“Damn it,” he said kneeling on the floor to find the single match. Frantically he searched the area with his hands and found nothing. Shifting his position on the floor he felt something under one of his knees. Cautiously he reached under his knee to find the one single match that had fallen on the floor. He started to breathe again. One single match that would give him the power to have light. He struck it on the box and the sudden bright light blinded him. He moved the match around trying to find the lantern but couldn’t see it. Suddenly he felt fire on his thumb and finger from the burning match and reflexively dropped it. His hopes fell away as the match fell. Straight into the chimney of the lantern and with its last tiny bit of flame ignited the wick. Light was at hand.

“Oh that’s better.” John said outload.

Taking a deep breath then letting it out slowly helped calm his nerves then stood up slowly looking at his surroundings. The first thing he saw was the little table he had tripped over twice. “For something so small you sure hurt my shin,” he said giving it a little kick. That bit of retribution helped his mood but not much else. Holding the light higher the sideboard was quite visible now and he could not see the white sheet that had been covering it. “I’m sure I left it there,” he said walking around the big dining table. “I know it was on there.” Looking around he couldn’t see it anywhere and had that feeling of being watched again, only stronger.

John was very surprised when he turned around to look where he had fallen into the dining room table. The chairs on either side of the area had been neatly moved aside giving him a perfect opening to fall into. Remembering he had fallen into something solid but soft he walked over to the table, and knowing what he would feel, he put his free hand on the edge of the table. “Hard. Very hard,” he said thinking that had he fallen into that it could have easily hurt his back. “Hmm. I sure didn’t fall into that.”

Having the lamp in hand lighting the room he looked to the end of the table and the single uncovered chair. He started walking to that end of the big dining room table and rounding the corner he felt a slight coolness as he reached the single chair. It was a big ornate chair and fit in with table and room decor perfectly. There it was again, that feeling he was being watched, and it was strong enough that without realizing it he had walked into the kitchen.

At first it looked like any other kitchen but as he moved the light he found it was an old style one. The stove was an old wood burner and spotlessly clean. He found the sink with its deep porcelain double tubs, also spotlessly clean. The taps were old and turned easily with a high curved spout which no water flowed. Continuing his looking around he found a small room which was a pantry fully stocked with canned goods, and not a speck of dust anywhere. He reached out to take one of the cans but couldn’t reach it. It felt like something was stopping his arm from moving. He stepped back looking around to see what had stopped his arm, fully expecting to see someone, but the pantry was empty. Moving back into the kitchen he said in a loud voice “Hello? Anybody here?” Nothing. No answer. “Hello, anyone?” Silence was the only response. “This is ridiculous,” he said out loud. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

John was starting to get a little more nervous. Things were happening that he couldn’t explain. He opened and closed several cupboard and counter drawers finding what he thought he would. Plates, cups, cutlery, pots, everything you would find in a kitchen.

He looked around more and found “Doors.” He almost shouted this. “A back door. I can get the heck out of here.” He was at that door in a moment and turned the door knob. It turned like it was new, and nothing happened. Pulling and pushing the knob did nothing other than frustrate John. The door would not budge. “Damn it” he said angrily between gritted teeth. “I’ve had it with place,” he said completely frustrated now. He swung around fast and almost dropped the lamp still in his hand. “Don’t be stupid” he said. “You need that lamp you idiot.” The growing frustration was now thinking for him. He put the lamp on the counter with such force he almost smashed it but right now he didn’t care. He saw a wooden chair, grabbed it and threw it as hard as he could at the window in the door. Nothing other than a dull thud. The window remained intact. “No” he shouted as he picked untie chair this time swinging it as hard as he could at the door window. On impact the chair broke into several pieces and the window was still intact. John just stood there in disbelief. “This can’t be happening. Doors that won’t open, windows that won’t break.” He just stood there shaking his head. “This is ridiculous,” he continued. “Who the hell builds a house like this.” It was more of a statement than anything else. He picked up his lamp.

As he turned something caught his eye. “Oh look,” he said. “Another door.” He took a deep breath and exhaled while saying “I’ve got nothing to lose by trying.” The door knob turned easily and this door, unlike the others, opened without a sound. “Wow” he said surprised and felt considerably better. Holding the lamp in front he went through the door.

He found he was on a stairway going down. “I hope this is a basement. They always have windows,” he said to himself while watched shadows move around the room. He got to the bottom of the stairs and stepped onto a dry dirt floor. “Except this one.” He said very disappointedly. “Damn.”

Feeling down he looked around again and two things came to his attention. A large coal burning furnace and an electrical fuse panel. He hadn’t noticed the low ceiling and walked straight into a beam smacking his forehead hard. “Damn, damn, damn, “he grumbled. “Oh that hurts,” he said rubbing his head adding “Keep your eyes open you fool.” Ducking low he went to the fuse panel. “Wow. I haven’t seen one of these in years,” he said holding the lamp close.

A fuse panel it was complete with the old type of glass, screw in fuses, and everyone was blown. The little metal piece inside all the fuses had melted away. “That’s very strange,” John said quietly to himself. “I’ve never seen ever one melted out like that before.” Knowing just enough about electricity to get himself seriously hurt or killed he decided not to touch anything on the panel. “Somewhere the main cable has to enter the house so if I can find it,” he said to himself, “I may find the problem.”

Turning and ducking had his feet moving which immediately caused him to trip and fall. Fortunately he was able to keep the lamp from hitting the ground and breaking. When he fell he had somehow turned and found himself sitting on the ground with his legs straight out in front of him. As well, he was leaning with his back against something cold.

The lamp was still working and as he held it up he twisted at the waist to find it was the furnace he was leaning against. It was cold but that was not really any surprise as there was no coal to shovel into it. Or a shovel.

“Well that explains the cold furnace.” John said. “At least that much makes sense,” which was helping his mood. “Now to see if I can find a way ... wait a minute ... hang on a second John old boy.” Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Something strange then it came to him. “Oh no,” he moaned to himself while raising a hand putting it on the furnace. “Cold, damn it. Why cold.” He sat there really wishing he was somewhere else. Anywhere else but in this damned house.

“The furnace is cold. There’s no coal. There’s no shovel. There’s no electricity. There’s no fireplace burning.” he said counting these facts on his fingers. “Yet it’s warm down here and warm upstairs. This is not good. Not good at all.”

He had just come to that conclusion when he suddenly felt freezing cold. Not cold like an ocean or a snow-covered mountain. A different cold and as suddenly as it came it was gone and he was warm again. That feeling of such cold scared him. “I’ve got to get out of here.” he said.

“Get a grip John. It’s this house freaking you out.” He had no sooner said that then that freezing cold was back again.

He tried to move but found this cold wouldn’t let him. For all intents and purposes he was frozen. Alive and breathing but frozen.

Again, suddenly, the cold was gone, and warmth was within him.

Now John was frightened. Not simply scared, just seriously frightened. He wanted to get up, but his legs weren’t working. He tried and tried but they simply wouldn’t move. They felt fine and it was almost like someone was holding them down.

Now John could hear a very faint noise. So faint he couldn’t make out what it was, but it was there. Without thinking he reached into the pocket where his flashlight was and pulling it out he aimed it all around. There, off to his right, showing clearly and looking directly at him, was the unmistakeable figure of a human, whiteish in color and almost transparent.

John just sat there frozen with fear. He could feel is heart beating away, thumping so hard he thought it would break through his ribs.

He was only frozen with fear for a few moments then tried to push himself away from whatever that was. By doing that the flashlight pointed towards his immobile legs and he saw another whiteish, almost transparent, human like figure standing on his legs. Again he froze in terror not knowing what to do.

The feeling of terror didn’t last long. On regaining some composure he pointed the flashlight back and forth to where the whitish, almost transparent figures had been and now saw nothing. Whatever they were, they were gone. Trying to calm himself he was taking some deep breaths when he thought heard that very faint noise again. He held his breath for a moment trying to hear it better and he could definitely hear it now. Some sort of a high-pitched sound he thought. Then it stopped. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his breathing. As quickly as the faint noise had stopped it started again

Now the noise was much louder and had an unusual tone or quality to. John leaned forward in his sitting position straining to hear the sound clearly. It was getting louder, and he was sure there was panic in the sound. There were scratching sounds now that came from behind a wall on his right. The scratching was getting louder as if someone or something had joined in. Louder and louder the screeching became as well. “What is that noise?” John said out loud then, “What the hell!” In the light of his lantern he saw a small opening appear in wall, that wasn’t there a moment ago, and tiny little mice came through. Not just one or two but dozens it looked like. They were running and scampering around obviously terrified of something. More came through the opening in the wall. Dozens. They were panicked and running all over and around John. Over his legs they went. Up his arms and down his back. They didn’t bite or even stop. They just kept running crazily. More came through the opening in the wall. Hundreds were running everywhere. John still could not move his legs and kept flailing his arms try to brush off the mice crawling all over him.

“Get off me! Go away! Stop it!” He yelled continuing flailing and brushing.

John had been so busy getting the mice off himself he didn’t notice there were fewer of them now. “Huh? What’s going on now?” He wasn’t swatting as many off now, so he could look around a bit.

It was the strangest thing. Off to his left and slightly ahead were the first two steps of the stairs and the mice were climbing to the second step and jumping into an opening in the wall and leaving. They were all leaving that way.

“Well I’ll be.” John said out loud and shortly they were all gone.

He was starting to understand what that little man with the sunken eyes had said about the flashlight. It will let you “see things” he recalled him saying. The light had fallen from his hands to the floor and luckily the mice hadn’t knocked it out of his reach. He found the light and put it put it in his hand pointing it all around. The area was empty save for himself which was a huge relief.

The area where John was now stunk of mice and mice droppings, so he desperately wanted out of there. He stood up easily and took a couple of steps before realizing he was walking. “Now I can walk. Great. Wonderful” he said then continuing “You’re losing it John. Let’s get out of here.”

As he was about to put one foot on the first step when a cold chill ran through him followed almost immediately by fear. It was more than just being watched. He felt like he was being studied and studied very closely.

Slowly, gingerly and quietly he went up the stairs. His left hand on the staircase railing and the right was holding the lamp. About halfway up he stopped suddenly shaking with fear. Panic was about to take over and suddenly the fear was gone. Nothing. No panic. He started to turn and go back down the stairs but with the flickering flame of the lamp producing shadows he turned back and looking up at the closed door into the kitchen he reluctantly continued his climb. At the top of the stairs he reached out and putting his hand on the door knob he turned it. Nothing happened. He tried again, and the same thing happened. It would not turn. “Damn,” he shouted as loud as he could then have settled down a bit to try and think straight. “This damn house is driving me crazy. The door was unlocked when I opened it to go to the basement and now it’s locked.” He smacked the door with his free hand.

Taking a few deep breaths to help him think he looked at the step he was on and put the lamp on it which gave him two hands to try the door again. The door knob still wouldn’t move. Not even a bit. “Come on,” he shouted. “Turn.” Then it suddenly did turn, like something had just released it, and the door was open. Caught off balance he fell through the now open doorway smacking his head on the floor. He just lay there, on the floor, with his sore head and started to laugh. “Okay house. You’ll have to do better than that if you want me!” Still laughing he went on “Give it your best shot.”

He stopped laughing and sat up when he realized he was in the dark. “The lamp. Where’s the lamp?” He remembered putting it on the top step just before he fell through the door. It wasn’t on the top step any more. He must have kicked it as it was on the basement floor and he watched the flickering flame go out through the broken glass chimney. No light. A dark house with an even darker basement that he wanted no part of ever again.

John just sat there on the floor not talking, not thinking, just sitting. He must have been in a daze. After a time he came back to reality and wondered how long he had been there. Not long he thought as it was still dark everywhere. He was leaning against a wall and stood up, arms outstretched, following the wall to get out of the kitchen. He turned a corner and found himself in the big dining room. Lightning was starting to flash.

From the dining room he could easily see the living room and started walking to it with the slowly increasing flashes of lightning. When he got there he went to the couch and sat on it sinking into the soft cushioning.

The sound of thunder was getting louder with each increasing flash of lightning. The back of the couch was under the large window which gave him a perfect view into the dining room. The lightening flashes were almost constant now and the thunder was continuous. “Am I ever glad I’m inside,” he said to himself as the sky opened up and the rain, coming down in sheets, soaked everything.

Suddenly the sound of the thunder stopped. The lightning continued, as did the rain, which was hitting the window.

John thought he heard a noise and cocked his to the side, closing his eyes, to hear it. There it was again. Just loud enough to distinguish. A thumping sound from inside the house. “What is that sound?” he said to himself. “The house is empty,” he started to say when it started. A loud, very loud, pounding could be heard from everywhere around him. It became louder and louder until it was almost deafening as he covered his ears with his hands, pressing so hard to stop the noise it hurt his hands. “Stop it,” he yelled. “Stop it. Stop it. Stop it” he continued yelling but the pounding went on and on. He looked around and could see the walls moving with each sound. The lightning continued flashing now in rhythm to the pounding. “This isn’t happening,” he yelled again but it continued relentlessly. Now he was frightened as he had never been before. He was so frightened his teeth were chattering. “Stop it,” he yelled again but the pounding and moving walls continued. Then the pounding stopped, and the walls were still. He was covered in sweat; his heart was beating hard and fast and his breathing was shallow and rapid.

“Go,” heard in a high pitched shrill voice. “Leave.” it continued.

“Get out,” another high pitched shrill voice said. “We don’t want to hurt you,” it said.

John heard the voices laughing as they faded away to nothing. Then silence. Not even the rain hitting the windows.

Suddenly the booms of thunder were deafeningly loud and constant again. “Stop it,” he yelled again and this time it did stop.

Now he was terrified and frozen with fear on the couch. His eyes were shut hard and his hands were again covering his ears.

Painfully slowly the terror inside him started to subside. He opened his eyes and took his hands away from his ears. He was starting to feel better but now had the idea he was being watched. “This is stupid,” he said to himself while reaching for his flashlight that wasn’t a flashlight. Holding it firmly yet not really wanting to see anything he moved it around the room. He didn’t see anything until he pointed it at the big window. There he saw two whitish, almost transparent, figures looking at him silently laughing.

Terror overcame him again and he yelled “No,” while he backed away and turned to run into the dining room.

He didn’t get far as he ran right into something soft at the end of the dining room table. He didn’t stop to see what is was as he couldn’t make out anything other than the table so spun around and ran down the side of the big table running into that little 4table he had hit earlier in the evening. This did not stop him and all it accomplished was to hurt the same shin again. He kept going rounding the corner of the table and was stopped instantly by running into something soft but solid.

This caused him to fall down right beside the only uncovered chair around the table. The one he had seen before. The spot he had fallen was very cold. Not the cold from a winter’s draft. Just the feeling of deep and unpleasant cold. He stood up using the uncovered chair to help him but pulled his hand away quickly. The chair was so cold it felt frozen but appeared completely normal. Without using the chair John got up and was still feeling the intense cold.

He moved a step away from the chair and the cold was gone. Standing in the warm air he touched the chair. Icy cold. With the same arm he swung it around to where he had been standing and that area was icy cold as well. When he pulled his arm back it was as warm as he was.

Wanting to avoid that unpleasant cold again he stepped to the side and missed the first of two steps leading into the sunroom. Landing hard on the second step he regained his balance and was in the sunroom.

In the sunroom he felt an intense feeling of sadness and depression that bordered on feelings of doom. He couldn’t understand what he was feeling other than the sadness that was almost overwhelming. On top of that he had the feeling he was again being watched.

He tried to ignore that feeling of being watched and looked out the windows of the sunroom. He could just make out what looked to be an overgrown back yard. A few big trees along the back with tall grass and overgrown piles of dirt all over it. Turning to look out another side window he could see what looked like a metal fence with a grey metal gate closing off the back yard. When looking at the gate the feelings of intense sadness came back so strong he felt weak like his strength was being drained from him. Something very bad happened at that gate. He just knew it without knowing why. The intense sadness was becoming so overwhelming that he had to turn away.

He felt his pockets for the flashlight and he found it in one of his pants pockets. He couldn’t remember putting it there. It was on the moment he touched it and he pointed it around the sunroom.

He wasn’t ready for the flashlight to point out the two, whitish, almost transparent figures standing not a foot away from his face. He yelled and panicked at the same time and ran toward the dining room right through the two figures in front of him.

Forgetting about the two steps he tripped on the second one and fell hitting his temple on the top corner of the chair back. He collapsed unconscious on the floor.

At some point he regained consciousness well aware of the pain in his head and the lump at his temple. Groggily he tried to sit up, but his head throbbed worse, so he just lay there on the floor. Slowly the pain subsided, and he noticed he was feeling somehow different. It wasn’t the pain in his head. It felt like he was being crowded inside his own body. “That’s stupid,” he thought. “How can I feel crowded in my own body,” he said thinking it was from the blow on his head. Then he heard something in his head.

“Michelle, Michelle, are you here?” A pause as if waiting for an answer. “Michelle, are you here? Answer me.”

He heard a response in his head. “Yes Alice. I’m here.”

“Oh goody!” the other voice replied in his head. “I really didn’t want to be in here all alone.”

“Well you’re not alone. I’m here too.” That was Alice replying.

“So what do you think?” Michelle asked.

Alice said, “I would have preferred a female body, but I suppose this will do.”

“It will have to do. We don’t get many visitors.”

“Have you done any looking around in his head yet?” Alice asked.

“No dearest cousin. I haven’t.”

John could feel his arms and legs moving a bit as if they were under control of another person. Alice said, “Not too bad for a male.”

“You may think so, but have you poked around in his mind?” Michelle asked. “What a mess in there. Nothing organized. Typical male.”

Alice said nothing for a moment then commented. “You’re so right dear cousin.”

John tried to sit up but found himself being fought and couldn’t do it. “You just lay there young man until we say you can move.”

John tried to move again, and his efforts were rewarded with a horrible pain in his head.

“We can cause pain much worse, so I suggest you don’t move until we want you too.” Alice cautioned him. Now he lay still but terrified of what was going on in his head.

Michelle started speaking again. “Dear cousin, how can we be so rude. We haven’t even introduced ourselves. My name is Michelle, and this is my cousin Alice. We own this house.”

“Michelle dear, look what you’ve done. The poor dear has fainted.” Alice said. “It appears our John is in shock!”

“He couldn’t take our introduction. Typical. Just like a man.” Michelle said. “I suppose we should wake him.” She said adding “He’s got a lot to do with us.” They woke him up.

John felt heavy, sluggish and so very tired. Without thinking he found himself standing and walking to the front door. He put his hand on the door knob which opened easily to a bright, clear morning with no traces of the storm from the night. He started walking.

John’s life was not the same after that night in the house. Alice and Michelle were his constant nemeses with their combined wills being so powerful he could only do what they desired. And they desired everything.

John had been employed as an on-air television meteorologist, with a considerable following of his once very accurate weather forecasts, and the prestige that accompanies a TV personality. Alice and Michelle were extremely jealous of his minor fame and quickly set to ruining this. His personality changed, he became quick tempered and unpleasant to be around. They made sure he alienated his friends and acquaintances. After being removed as an on-air personality he was assigned duties behind the scenes, putting forecasts together, writing scripts and other such duties. Eventually he was retired from that position and sought other employment. Alice and Michelle took great pleasure in running him to the point of exhaustion. His savings, once considerable, were now gone after paying his monthly mortgage and living expenses. Over the years he went from one job to another then another. His house had long been sold and what little money he had made from the sale was gone as well. Most of his belongings, family heirlooms and personal treasures had been pawned just to have food. For several years he had been homeless, living on handouts from kind-hearted people, and experiencing what the four seasons were like. On occasion he would be accepted it into a homeless shelter having a hot meal, a shower and a real bed to sleep on. Alice and Michelle revelled these experiences. Finally, he found a job busing tables, making less than minimum wage but any tips he made were his which allowed him to rent a tiny room in a house. Complete with five others sharing a single bathroom and a communal kitchen. Alice and Michelle were not pleased with this as they felt no cold or pain. Over time he managed to save enough money to buy an old beater of a car but to him it didn’t matter. A warm and dry place to live and wheels were all that mattered.

May 13, 2016. Friday.

For thirteen long and horrible years John survived. Barely. He felt that Alice and Michelle were going to send him to an early grave.

John was in his little room enjoying its meager comfort when he felt an overwhelming urge to go for a drive. He hadn’t been thinking of doing that and this wasn’t an Alice and Michelle order he couldn’t resist. He just lay there on his tiny single bed trying to fight this urge. Finally he relented and went to his car with no idea where he was to go.

As he was stepping in he noticed the sky had darkened with thick, dark and ominous clouds. He thought the temperature had dropped and it was just starting to rain.

He started driving around aimlessly for a few minutes and to his surprise he was at the little strip mall where the curio shop had been those many years ago. It was now gone, and a health food store was in its place.

At that moment he noticed something odd. The voices of Alice and Michelle were unusually quiet. He could feel their overwhelming presence, he had no doubt of that, but they were unusually quiet.

Again he was driving, following the route he had walked thirteen years ago. Along the stores to the exit, turning left onto the street in front of him, then right onto another. He stopped for a moment in the middle of that street, memories of thirteen years ago flooding back. He wanted to get off that street. To go and be somewhere else. Anywhere but here.

The rain was falling heavily now, with lightning flashing all around. The thunder was almost constant. With great trepidation he started driving slowly along the street, finally coming to a stop. In front of where the old house had been.

It was gone. Obviously demolished and replaced by a new, modern house. Lights were on inside. The old, rundown white house that had been next to it on the left was also gone, being replaced with an extension of a small neighbourhood park. On the right of the new modern house was a smaller, slightly older, yellow stucco house.

John parked his little car by the curb. The thunder and lightning was constant, and the rain was a downpour. John found himself getting out of his car despite every nerve in his body screaming at him not too. Alice and Michelle were continuing their uncommon quiet, but John knew something was happening and they were part of it.

Once out of his car John was soaking wet in a matter of seconds. He could feel the static of the electrically charged air on his skin and the booming of the thunder assaulting his ear drums. He stood, frozen, in the middle of the wet road.

Then it happened. A lightning bolt grounded not two feet from where he stood. Millions of volts of electrical energy and tens of thousands of amperes of current flowed through the ground around him.

He had no chance. None. With all that electrical energy flowing where he stood he became part of it and his limp body collapsed to the ground.

“Daddy, is he alright?”

“I’m not sure sweetie, but he’s breathing.”

John thought he heard talking but wasn’t sure. Consciousness was slowly returning. He did know he was down, laying on something cold and very hard.

“Oh daddy look. He’s waking up!” A young girls voice said.

“You’re right honey. He is!” An older male voice said.

John opened his eyes. He didn’t move but was looking at a young girl, maybe ten years old, and a male in his mid thirties. He didn’t understand what he was feeling now but it felt like he was being drained. Not blood or any type of body fluid. Something unusual.

He sat up and noticed it. He felt empty, alone.

He heard the young girl say, in a much older sounding voice, “Alice, I think I’m going to enjoy this one!”

“You know Michelle,” the father said in Alice’s voice, “this one suits me perfectly!”

John tried to scream but nothing came out.