THE HAUNTING OF THE HARPERS

Samuel Harper pulled his large Toyota truck into the new apartment. This was his first purchase, which was a change from the older flat; an old, dying apartment that his dad partly financed. Unlike the previous one, this purchase was affordable and convenient for him.

As he alighted, he ushered Abigail Harper, who was carrying their secondborn carefully in her arms. She was already in a mess due to the travel of six hours, covering a total of three-fifty miles at a stretch. At the rear seat was Nathan Harper, who was in a deep slumber. Sam gently patted on his shoulder and nudged him awake, saying: “We are here, Nate, wake up.”

Nate was barely eight, skinny with just skin and bones. He had deep, monolid-almond-shaped eyes and bright skin flushing red with life. Everybody loved Nate, and he was the kind who would do things to impress his dad, who seemed to have a soft spot for his new sister now. Anybody would have loved her for when such a cute little fairy entered their lives.

“Mr. Harper?” said an old man with a cane in a fluent British accent.

“Yes?” said Sam.

“I'm Edwin, we spoke over the telephone.”

“Oh! Mr. Edwin, it’s great to meet you.”

“Let me show you your flat,” he said and looked over to the family and continued. "Don't worry about the luggage. I will get it set for you.”

Edwin took them around the apartment first before visiting their flat. It was not very impressive, just appropriate to the price. There was a constant sense of slight dampness in the corridor because the light was not sufficient to reach all corners.

“My father built this back in ninety-five," he started. "My mother looked after it since his death. I was only twelve when he died. It’s been thirty years I have been looking after it.”

Finally, after a brief visit of the apartment, they were ushered to their flat. It was in the underground, an additional floor which was improbable to notice from afar. This would raise a question in one's mind: whether it's legal or not? But this was not a concern for this family because they were struggling to get an affordable flat, though whatever it may be, Sam's promise was reassuring, the promise that he will get a better one soon.

Mr. Edwin slid the key into the rusted keyhole. A second's struggle and it was unlocked; the sound of it echoed off the dampening walls of the passage— the passage where the end is engulfed in bitter darkness.

He then pushed open the door, creaking open to reveal a fully furnished flat inside.

“I did not know it was a furnished flat,” said Sam, being unexpectedly impressed.

”I'll get this moved out by evening,” said Mr. Edwin. “You can get yours in here.”

“Oh no, that won't be required, Mr. Edwin, this is very impressive.”

“Are you sure?”

“Obviously. It's a really great offer.”

Abby pulled his sleeve and eyed him in concern. Sam did not listen, so she pulled him by his arm to the side away from Mr. Edwin.

“I don't like this, Sam,” she said. “I don't think it's good. We don't know whose it is, and it has not been used for a long time.”

“How do you know?”

“Look at the dust. Don't you think it's fishy? And he's giving it at no extra cost. That’s weird, isn't it?”

He took a pause as though he was contemplating.

“Don't think too much, honey,” he said, ignoring her concerns. “It's a good offer, and he's an honest old man.”

“What?... No, Sam...”

“Listen, Honey,” he said, interrupting her, “It’s only for some time, okay? We will get to a better one.”

Despite her reluctance to agree, she believed him and followed in acquiescence.

Until sunset, the couple worked tirelessly tidying the furnished house. It was a peculiar house that opened into a large living room that went upstairs directly where two bedrooms were built. The kitchen was partitioned off the large living room, with nothing fancy or artistic to feel about.

The living room was furnished with two independent sofas and a couch with three seats, that all faced to a wall presumably for a television. The kitchen was a tiny one with barely any room for an extra person, and the larger of the two bedrooms, one was spacious for a typical king-sized bed, but the other was cramped where not even a single bed could fit. It seems like a storeroom, but they decided to make it the kids’ room. The light in the flat had to be on always at all times because there was no sunlight. It was not long before the old unused flat was transformed into one with life flowing through it.

Mr. Edwin invited the family to their house which was about four streets down. They owned a spacious house with a reasonable front yard with a driveway and a backyard just like a landowner. The old couple had only one daughter who lived in Washington. She barely kept contact with them due to the work stress. So, they were alone living in the house. For some reason, they did not have much of a recognition in the neighbourhood unlike other old couples residing in a place for a long time. However, the Harpers had qualms about judging them for it.

“Welcome, Mr. Harper.” He greeted them at the doorstep, inviting them inside.

“Please make yourselves at home.” Said the old lady of the house who came walking slowly with a smile. She looked at Nathan standing shyly before them. “Hey there! What's your name?” She continued.

“Nathan.” He answered hesitantly.

“Such a sweet name. Do you like ice cream?”

He nodded, and proceeded to the kitchen along with her.

They were seated at the dining table shortly with dishes served on the plate. Abby was sitting beside Natalie Harper, the little sister of Nate, mothering her.

With a small prayer, they began eating the food.

“It tastes great,” complimented Sam.

“Thank you,” said Edwin and continued. “What do you do?”

“I'm a flatbed driver,” he said.

“Always on the move then?”

“That’s true. Quite a strain, but manageable over time, you know.” He took another bite and continued. “By the way, who was the past owner?”

There was a moment of silence, as though it was unexpected.

“We sold the property to a family who owned farmland in the countryside. After a fire destroyed their crops, they were unable to find a buyer, and we repurchased the property. They left everything behind. We did not sell it, nor the furniture or the flat, and there was no tenant. So we priced it less.”

While their conversation continued, Nathan ventured to explore this house. He trailed the Goldie, the golden retriever, at their house into the rooms where there was only a dim light illuminating the room. At the end of the passage, there was a door that led into a room that was unused. The door was an old wooden one covered in black mould growing over to the ceiling, unlike other doors that were rather new. There was something off about that room.

Suddenly, the door slightly opened as though the wind nudged, except there was no wind. Nate crept slowly toward that door without making a noise. From the slight gap, he peeped into the room. There was a very stale stench of a musty, old room. The monstrous darkness was spread in all corners, an omnipresent weight living inside. Nate could barely see anything inside except for an outline of a figure infused into the darkness of the room. Nate felt something luring him inside, as though the darkness was inviting him in. But he feared it, dreaded the sense of something sinister.

Goldie barked behind Nate, startling him amidst the quietness. Simultaneously, the door shut loud, throwing him onto the floor, where he hit his back. Goldie calmed down and wiggled his tail. He immediately made his way back to the table where they were all exchanging laughs and stories, so, of course, they did not hear anything.

Shorty, the loud laughs, unending talks ended, and silence befell their house. The old couple retired for that day, the lights went off, and eventually, the neighbourhood went silent. Amidst the deafening silence, the unused room kept locked for decades was opened.

The Harpers went to bed early that day. Nate was in his new room, on a small, cramped bed which was just enough for him, with just one small window on the side for air. But none of that bothered him because there was only one thing on his mind. ‘What was that thing I saw in there?’ he thought and pondered. That only led him to fear the dark, which is why he had his bed light specially installed on a bad protest. That haunting figure of it kept flashing, and all he could do was curl up inside the blanket, and before he realised, he'd fallen asleep.

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