Disillusions and Confusion, Part 3/3

[daniomalley22]

Part Two



When he got home, Jared learned that Jensen had been doing some research of his own.

“A psychic?” he asked doubtfully. “What kind of psychic has an ad in the yellow pages?”

“Well, where else would they put one?” Jensen snapped. “These three also have websites. The first one has testimonials, but they all sound a little bit, well... fake.”

“Yeah,” Jared said, “because they’re psychics.”

“You know, this was your idea first,” Jensen retorted.

“You’re right,” Jared said, feeling rather guilty. “Go on.”

“The second one says that she specialises in communication with the dead, which could be useful. The third website was very basic, not much information on it. I think we should give this second one a try, yeah?”

“Yeah?”

So they grabbed the phone and Jared made the call. It rang a couple of times and then went through to voicemail. “Hi, you’ve reached Lady Esmerelda. I’m not able to take your call now, but leave a message and I’ll call you back.”

Jared glanced at Jensen who shrugged at him. The phone beeped, and Jared stammered, “Uh, hi - hi, this is Jared Padalecki. I’m looking for someone who can help with a - a haunted house? So, uh, call back on this number, I guess.”

“If she’s so psychic,” Jensen said once Jared had hung up, “why do we have to call her? Why doesn’t she know to call us?”

Jared rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s an original sentiment,” he said sarcastically.

“Well, sor - ow!” Jensen glared at him, and Jared glared straight back, slowly lifting his foot off Jensen’s.

“I’m meeting Anton Ricks tomorrow,” Jared said, “so maybe he can tell me something useful for when she calls back.”

***

“Oh, yeah, I remember Canning Street.” Anton waved Jared to a seat in his office and pushed some folders out of his way. “Nice little house. I had to move once I got married, though, the little woman wanted some place a bit bigger.” He grinned hugely at Jared, who gave a small smile in return.

“So you never noticed anything... strange about the house?” Jared asked.

“Well, I had a raccoon living in the back yard for about four months, but Animal Control took care of it.”

“I meant more like things you couldn’t understand. Lights turning on and off by themselves, or noises when you were the only one home.”

Anton gave him an odd look. “Look, Jake... can I call you Jake?”

“It’s Jared, actually.”

“Jake, I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but it was just a house. The strangest thing that ever happened there was my little brother locked himself in the bathroom one day and couldn’t get out, but to tell you the truth, he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, know what I mean?”

“Right,” Jared said slowly. “Well. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

Jared went home - reluctantly - and changed into old clothes so he could do some weeding. He had a vague idea in mind of tidying up the backyard so that it would look more appealing to buyers. Jared went through the hallway to the back door and paused opposite the bathroom. He imagined being trapped in there, unable to get the door open, and shuddered.

He was still in the yard when he heard Jensen pull into the driveway. He ran to the gate and waved. “Hey, Jensen!” he said. “Stay there, I’ll move my car out so you can park in front of me.” It had only taken one incident of Jared needing to wake Jensen up at half-past six before they’d started moving their cars around in the afternoons. Jared hurried inside to find his car keys. They weren’t on the hook by the door where they were usually kept. Puzzled, Jared checked the dresser in the bedroom and inside the pocket of his work pants, even though he usually never put anything in there. He hadn’t been anywhere else in the house since coming home; he’d come inside, got changed, and gone straight to the yard. He wandered up and down the hall to check whether he’d somehow dropped the keys on the floor, but they were nowhere in sight.

“Jared?” Jensen called from the front door. “What’s taking so long?”

“I can’t find my fucking keys!” Jared snapped, beginning to feel upset. “I’m sure I put them on the hook, but they’re not there.”

“It’s okay,” Jensen said soothingly, “they’ll turn up. Why don’t we just get dinner and we can look for the keys later?”

Jared didn’t really feel like it; he wanted to find his keys now, damn it, but he didn’t know where to start looking. “Fine,” he said, “but I bet you won’t be this laid back about it when you have to drive me to work tomorrow at six-thirty.”

“It’s only, like, four blocks, you could walk,” Jensen said. Jared glared at him, but it didn’t have much effect.

Later on, when Jensen was returning the ice cream to the freezer after dishing up the pie they were having for desert, they both heard a definite clink. “What’s this?” Jensen asked, reaching in. “Jared!” he exclaimed, “care to explain why you put your car keys in the freezer?” He held them up and shook them; Jared snatched the keys from his hand. They were icy cold to the touch.

“I didn’t!” Jared said indignantly.

“It’s okay, Jared, it’s normal to get a little absentminded in your old age. It happens to the best of us.”

“Listen to me, you jerk, I didn’t leave them in there!” Jared took a deep breath. “I haven’t been anywhere near the freezer all day. I didn’t even go into the kitchen before you got home. How could I have left these in there?” He rattled the keys in Jensen’s face and Jensen batted his hand away.

“Weird,” Jensen said, but Jared could tell he still believed he’d done it and then forgotten about it.

“She put them in there,” Jared muttered. Jensen sighed.

“She’s one wild ghost, trying to steal your Honda Civic for a joyride,” Jensen agreed. Jared rolled his eyes and ignored him.

That night, in his sleep, Jared dreamed that he was in the bathroom and the door was stuck. He couldn’t get it to open, try as he might. The door handle turned freely but the door still wouldn’t budge, and although he shoved and pulled as hard as he could, it was as immovable as stone.

Nothing happened while he was in there. No monsters came out of the woodwork to scare him, there were no noises and no writing on the mirror, but the fear hung heavily on him the entire time. Something could happen at any moment, and there was no escape.

Jared pounded on the door with his fist. “Jensen!” he yelled. “Jensen! Help!”

“Just a minute,” Jensen called back. Jared waited, but no help came.

“Jensen!” he yelled again.

“I’ll be right there!”

“Jensen, come get me out of here!”

“Okay, okay, hold your horses!”

“JENSEN!”

Jared jerked awake, every limb trembling, staring around the dark bedroom with huge eyes. There were shadows in odd corners, but he could identify them all with a little thought. The clothes hamper stood against the far wall, and Jensen had hung his suit for the next day on a hanger on the outside of the closet door. The shape by the door was just the reflection of the moon on the frame of a picture hanging there. The room was empty except for him and Jensen.

Jared really needed to pee, but he could hear music playing and a voice crying softly, and no power on earth could have persuaded him to get out of the bed.

***

It might have been irrational paranoia, but Jared had decided that he couldn’t be too careful, and so he always left the house when he wanted to research it. It meant that he was finding a lot of cafes and malls that offered free wifi, which was a bonus.

He’d got about as far as he could researching the house’s previous tenants, but on a whim Jared typed ‘Trotter murder’ into the Google search bar.

‘Brian Trotter killed in prison’ was one of the first results. Jared read the article and learned that Trotter had been attacked in prison and died from stab wounds to the chest and neck. Further searching revealed that his wife Rachel had been granted parole at the end of the previous year.

Jared read that article twice, thinking hard. It gave no hint about whether she’d remained in the area or moved somewhere else - but she’d have to still live in town, wouldn’t she? Jared wasn’t sure but he thought there were rules like that for parolees. He searched the white pages and found only one result with the correct initial. He copied the address and put it in his wallet for safekeeping, not sure if he would ever use it but wanting to have the option.

It was time to go home after that. They were expecting Lady Esmerelda that evening.

Jensen was sitting on the couch when Jared arrived home, but the TV wasn’t on, and although dusk was setting in, he hadn’t turned on any lights. Jared took care of that immediately, switching lights on in the hallway, living room and kitchen.

“Are you alright there, just staring off into space?” Jared asked Jensen. Jensen turned his head towards Jared but didn’t say anything. Jared felt suddenly uneasy. “Jensen?”

Jensen didn’t respond. Didn’t answer, but more than that, he showed no awareness that Jared had spoken at all.

“Jensen?” Jared repeated, his throat going dry.

Jensen’s eyes were locked on his. He didn’t even seem to be blinking. He was staring at Jared like he could see through his skull and read his thoughts. Not completely by coincidence, Jared’s thoughts at that moment turned to the knife block behind him on the kitchen counter. It was almost within arm’s reach. He hoped Jensen wasn’t actually reading his thoughts, and that that was just a flight of fancy on his part.

Jared gulped and stepped back towards the doorway. Jensen’s head turned to follow his movements, but he didn’t stand up. Jared hesitated at the edge of the room, not sure whether it would be worse to keep watching Jensen do... whatever he was doing, or to have Jensen somewhere Jared couldn’t see him.

“Jensen?” Jared asked again, pleading this time. Jensen was as still as stone. Jared whimpered and backed into the hall. Like ripping off a band-aid, he told himself. Everything’s going to be okay.

He turned around and came face to face with the bathroom door. He glared at the door as though it was the focal point of every shitty thing that had happened since they’d moved in. Impulsively, he lashed out with a foot and kicked at the bottom panel of the door. His boot struck the wood with a loud thud, and some of the paint cracked off. At the same time, the doorbell rang. Jared spun around, startled, and Jensen appeared from the living room.

Jensen opened the front door. “Hi,” he said. “You must be Lady Esmerelda. Come in.” His voice sounded normal. There was nothing off about his movements. Jared watched closely for any signs that something was wrong.

“Jared’s around somewhere,” Jensen said. He turned around. “Oh, there you are, Jared! I wondered where you’d gone. This is Lady Esmerelda.” He smiled, and it looked just like every other time Jensen had ever smiled. Was he unaware of what had just happened? Jared tried to tear his attention away from Jensen and look at the clairvoyant. Now that she was here, she might be able to help.

Lady Esmerelda was a plump middle-aged woman with shoulder length reddish-brown hair. She wore a light blue dress over dark blue leggings, and a number of long chains hung around her neck, all with various symbols hanging from them. Jared spotted a cross and a pentagram, and others he didn’t recognise, like a circle with a line through it inside a triangle.

“When did the first incident happen?”

“The day we moved in, a couple of months ago,” said Jared. “We were bringing in all our furniture, and I said... something, and then the bedroom door slammed in my face. By itself.”

“Hmm,” said Lady Esmerelda, nodding but looking confused. Jared sighed.

“The... spirit, or whatever, doesn’t like it when people, um, apologise? It gets angry.”

“Oh, I see. So if someone says that they’re sorry for something...”

Jared flinched and looked around fearfully, but nothing happened. The room was still, and silent. Eerily so, maybe. Especially considering that he’d really been expecting some sort of reaction.

“What is the history of the house?” asked Lady Esmerelda. “I’m assuming that you’ve researched it.”

“A young girl was murdered here about five years ago. Her parents... it was her parents, and they both went to prison. The father was killed a couple of years ago and the mother was paroled last year.”

“Hmmm.” Lady Esmerelda considered that. “In cases like this, spirits often become angry that they haven’t received justice. Her mother’s release from prison could have provoked her.”

“Maybe,” Jensen said doubtfully.

“I don’t know,” Jared said. “I’ve talked to some of the people who lived in the house before we did, and they both noticed strange things happening too. Well, sort of,” he amended, remembering Anton’s obliviousness.

“It’s hard to say,” said Lady Esmerelda. “Have the strange occurrences escalated over time?”

“Yes,” Jared said emphatically while Jensen nodded. “Especially after we renovated the bathroom.”

“The bathroom. Is that significant?” she asked.

“It’s where she died.”

“Well, let’s go have a look, then.”

So they trooped down to the bathroom, where Jensen showed Lady Esmerelda inside while Jared hovered in the hallway, feeling foolish but reluctant to go through the door.

“A few times I noticed words written in the steam on the shower screen and mirror,” said Jared, pointing. “And we hear strange noises coming from this room a lot. Banging, or a voice calling for help. And once I saw a hand reflected in the mirror, but no one was there.”

Lady Esmerelda stood in the middle of the little room and slowly turned around. “There’s a dark energy in this room,” she said in a low voice. “I sense that this part of the house was central to that poor girl’s death.” She looked sad for a moment, then became more businesslike. “What we need to do is communicate with this spirit and encourage her to move on to the next realm.”

Jared glanced at Jensen. “Okay,” he said. “How do we do that?”

Lady Esmerelda opened the large canvas bag she’d been carrying and pulled out two thick white candles and a lighter. “Would you rather I put these on saucers?” she asked.

“I’ll get some,” Jared volunteered. He darted to the kitchen and returned quickly. When he came back, Lady Esmeralda was drawing on the tile floor with chalk.

“It’ll wipe right off,” she said cheerfully. “Now, you’ll need to come in here, Jared.”

“Okay,” Jared said, but he hesitated outside the door for several seconds before he could make himself step through. He was pretty sure it was just his imagination telling him that there was a noticeable chill inside the room, but he shivered anyway.

“We need to hold hands and stand in a circle,” Lady Esmerelda said. “Jared, you face east, and Jensen, you face west.” She positioned Jared with his back to the mirror - which did not thrill him in any way - and Jensen opposite him. “I’ll face south. We need to focus all our attention on the south side of the circle to provide the spirit with a point through which to communicate.”

That sounded like nonsense to Jared, but what did he know? He took Lady Esmerelda’s hand, and reached across the circle towards Jensen with his other hand.

“No,” said Lady Esmerelda, “don’t close the circle, we need to allow the spirit a way in.”

So Jared kept his right hand down by his side and waited. Lady Esmerelda dropped her chin down onto her chest. “We are calling the spirit that haunts this place,” she said in a deep, melodious voice. She tilted her head back. “We call on that spirit to come forth and make itself known.” She drew in a deep breath, so loudly that Jared almost jumped. He glanced across at Jensen but he was watching the psychic with an incredulous expression on his face.

Lady Esmerelda breathed out, just as loudly. “Reveal yourself to us, spirit!” she cried out, and at that moment, one of the candles she had lit and set on the edge of the bath guttered and went out. Jared stared and the glanced at Jensen, who was looking a little shaken himself.

Lady Esmerelda spoke again, but her voice had changed. “Release me from this place,” she whispered in a high, quavering voice. “Let me be gone.”

“What is keeping you here, child?” she asked in her own voice, speaking gently.

“I cannot rest until justice is done to the ones who wronged me,” answered the high pitched voice coming from Lady Esmerelda’s lips.

“Justice has been done, my child,” Lady Esmerelda answered. “The people who hurt you were arrested and sentenced. Your father is dead. Move on from here, and know that you are beyond their reach now.”

Lady Esmerelda took another deep breath and tilted her head to the side. The doors of the cabinet behind Jared flew open, one of them hitting his leg and the other slamming into the bath. Jared yelped and stepped out of the way, and Lady Esmerelda’s eyes became huge. “I bid you to go forward to the next realm, where you will be free of the hurts from this one!” she cried out, her voice no longer quite so melodious. “Go from this place!”

Lady Esmerelda was gripping his hand so tightly that Jared winced. She breathed in and drew herself up to her full height. “Thank you for freeing me,” she said quickly in her high-pitched voice. The second candle went out.

Lady Esmerelda breathed in and out deeply once more, blinked slowly, and let go of Jared and Jensen’s hands. “Well,” she said, in her normal voice, “I think that’s all taken care of.”

Jared exchanged a glance with Jensen. “You do?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes, I don’t think you’ll be seeing any more of her.” She stepped out into the hallway and Jared followed her quickly. “Most spirits just want someone to listen to them. You give them what they need, and it releases their ties to this world. Now, I can only take cash, so...”

“That’s right, I have it,” Jensen said quickly, and went to get the money.

Lady Esmerelda collected her candles and smiled at Jared. “You have a lovely home,” she said.

“Thanks. Hopefully it will be even better now,” Jared said.

“I’m sure you’ll be very happy here,” she said, accepting payment from Jensen with thanks. They walked her to the front door, and she paused there with a frown.

“I could have sworn I left my bag here,” she said, looking at the corner between the front door and the bedroom door, which was decidedly empty. Jared glanced around but didn’t see the bag.

“It’s over here,” Jensen said, taking a step into the living room. “Next to the sofa.”

“Ah, thanks!” said Lady Esmerelda, taking the bag. “Well,” she said, pausing in the doorway, “good luck.”

“Thanks for your help,” said Jensen. She nodded and left.

Jensen closed the door and Jared looked at him.

“What?” Jensen asked.

“Do you think it worked?”

“For what we paid her, it fucking better have.”

Jared sighed. “I know what you mean, but... did that seem a little bit...”

“Incredibly fake?” Jensen asked. Jared nodded. “I guess so,” said Jensen, “but you know I never believe in any of this stuff, except apparently ghosts are real now? So how can I say whether it was fake or real?”

Jared wasn’t reassured. “She lost her bag,” he pointed out. “She put it down in one place and it turned up somewhere else.”

“Come on, Jared, she just forgot where she put it. People do stuff like that all the time.”

“Didn’t it seem like she was kind of eager to get out of here?”

“You’re right, that is suspicious!” Jensen said. “I’m definitely never in a hurry to get out of the office after a day’s work. I’d stay there all night if I could.”

Jared gave up. “Okay, have it your way,” he said. “I’m sure everything’s fine.”

“It’s not that I’m so sure it worked,” Jensen said. “I just don’t see what the point is to worrying about it. It either worked or it didn’t. If it didn’t work, we’ll find out.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

***

Although Jared was particularly vigilant all evening, nothing happened that was even remotely out of the ordinary. Jensen nudged him in the side as they were going to bed and said, “See? Worrying about nothing.”

The house was just as quiet and normal when Jared woke up in the morning. He left for work, knowing that he should feel relieved, but instead a heavy weight of dread had settled over him and refused to budge.

He went home afterwards, because continuing to avoid the house would have been really hard to explain. He made dinner, meatloaf with steamed vegetables. Over the noise he made chopping vegetables and wrestling the loaf tin out of the cupboard, it was impossible to tell whether or not he was imagining the occasional thump or bang that made him jump. He froze in the middle of putting the meatloaf in the oven, sure that for a second he’d heard a fragment of music, but as soon as he quietened it was gone.

“What’s the occasion?” Jensen asked when he got home to find dinner already prepared and served.

“I’ve been thinking,” Jared said, waving Jensen over to the table. “After dinner, there’s something I’d like to go check out. You could come with me too, if you want.”

“Okay,” Jensen said, sounding a little confused. “What is this, like a club or something?”

“No. Don’t freak out, okay? But I did some research and I learned that the girl’s mother, the one who... you know, she still lives in town. Not all that far from here. I think I want to go talk to her.”

Jensen immediately did what Jared had asked him not to do, and freaked out. “No, Jared, are you nuts? First of all, this woman is probably someone you don’t want to mess with. She just got out of prison, for God’s sake, and she’s not going to want you hanging around being nosy. Secondly, I thought this was all settled now? Why are you still obsessing over it? Nothing’s happened, has it?”

“No,” Jared said defensively, “I just want to be sure...”

“Sure of what? That she’s a terrible person? That something awful happened in this house?” Jensen snapped. “The ghost is gone. Digging up all the grisly details isn’t going to put your mind at ease, it’s just going to make you...”

“Make me what?” Jared asked when Jensen went quiet. Jensen’s eyes slid away from his, and Jared was suddenly pissed off. “Make me keep imagining weird things happening, that’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”

Jensen spluttered, but Jared didn’t stop. “Well you can go to hell, Jensen! I’m going around to talk to this woman, and if you don’t want to come with me, that’s fine!”

“Fine, then I’ll stay here!” Jensen snapped.

Jared stormed off to get his car keys, only to find them missing from the hook once again. Grunting in frustration, he grabbed Jensen’s keys instead. He looked back towards the kitchen, considering, but eventually went out the door without telling Jensen that he was taking his car.

Rachel Trotter lived in a small apartment opposite a strip mall. At this time of night, the stores were closed and graffiti-covered roller shutters were pulled over the doors. Most of the street lights were burnt out, and it felt like a desolate place.

There was no doorbell; Jared rapped gently on the metal frame of the screen door. The front of the apartment was dark, but he could hear the sound of a television somewhere inside. He waited a moment, then knocked again.

Finally, a light switched on behind the door. It spilled through the glass panels and Jared could see a crack running through the central one. The main door opened but the screen door remained closed; the woman inside the house peered up at Jared and said, “What?”

“Mrs Trotter?”

She stared up at him without answering, so Jared cleared his throat and went on. “Um, Mrs Trotter, my name is Jared. I, uh... I live at 1480 Canning Street.”

Rachel’s tired face took on a wary, knowing look, and she straightened up out of her slouch. “What do you want?”

“Um... I’m sorry to bother you at home,” Jared tried, but her expression didn’t soften at all. “I want... some strange things have been happening in the house, and I’m trying to understand...”

“I’m not sure what you think you’re doing here,” she said impatiently. “I served my sentence, alright? I served my sentence, and that’s the end of it. I’m trying to move on, why don’t you let me?”

“I’m sorry,” Jared said automatically. “It’s just that a few things have happened in the house that are a bit... strange.”

“Like what?” Rachel asked, rolling her eyes. “Bumps in the night, things jumping out and saying boo?”

“Well... sort of,” Jared said.”I was hoping you could shed some light on... well, on what happened.”

“I can’t help you,” she said. “It wasn’t my fault, okay? That was all Brian. I would have helped her if I could. I told her I was sorry, but there wasn’t anything I could do.”

A chill ran down Jared’s spine. “So she died in the-” house, he was going to say, but Rachel interrupted him.

“In the bathtub. That was Brian’s idea, too. Easier to clean up afterwards, but she wasn’t as close to dead as he thought. It took days. She screamed and screamed for help. I said we should take her to the hospital.” She scowled up at Jared like she could hear what he was thinking of her. “I did what I could, alright? It was Brian who insisted we cover it up. He’d have the radio blasting all day and all night, but I could still hear her.”

Jared had to look away, the vacant expression on Rachel’s face as she described how her daughter had died becoming too unsettling.

“Why?” Jared asked, wondering why Brian Trotter had been so determined to cover up what he’d done at the expense of his child’s life.

“They used to have the most terrible arguments,” Rachel said. “He’d drink, and she’d hide his car keys so he couldn’t drive. He’d get so furious when she did that. I think she wanted to push him. Maybe she thought she could make him change. I told her not to bother, but she wouldn’t listen to me.” Rachel laughed tiredly. “What do I know, right?”

“Um...” Jared reached for his jacket pocket, feeling the reassuring weight of his phone inside. “I... thanks for your time. I need to go.”

He turned away from the door and began to jog as he reached the footpath. He pulled his phone from his pocket; Jensen’s car keys fell out with it and he picked them up, turning them over in his other hand.

His phone screen was blank, no messages or missed calls. Jared wished he could find that reassuring. He quickly called Jensen’s cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail. He tried the house phone, but it just rang and rang and rang.

Jared ended the call and tapped out a text message as quickly as he could. uok J call md back? He pocketed the phone and got into the car, putting the key in the ignition. He was just buckling the seat belt when his phone buzzed.

sorry? he read when he checked the message.

its ok. I said some shitty things too u ok? he replied.

sorry? came the answer. Jared felt an unwelcome sensation of dread steal into his gut. He called Jensen’s cell phone again and bit on his nails while it rang.

The line went quiet and picked up with a click like it did when the call went through to Jensen’s voicemail, but the usual message didn’t play. Instead, Jared began to hear the lyrics of a familiar song. He listened for a moment, then dropped the phone like it had burned him and started the car engine, pulling away with a screech of tires.

Luckily for Jared, peak hour traffic was well and truly finished because his journey back to the house would have made any reasonable person seriously reconsider ever getting into a car with him. He kept the cell phone in his lap, and tried calling Jensen again when he was halfway there, but there was still no answer.

The house looked normal from the outside. A light was on in the living room; the rest of the house was dark. It was quiet and nothing seemed obviously out of place. Jared advanced on the front door as cautiously, as reluctantly, as he might lift a cobwebby strip of bark from a fallen branch. The door lurked under the overhanging porch like it was waiting for an opportunity to attack. It didn’t look any different than it had before, that was the thing. It looked like it was ready to swallow Jared whole and spit out his bones, and it always had.

Jared’s hand was shaking by the time he touched the doorknob. He actually jerked his arm away, as though he was afraid the door was electrified or something. The handle felt cold to the touch, cold as ice, but after a minute or so of standing there Jared realised he was going to have to go inside.

He pulled the door open, peering down the dark hall. The light which spilled through from the living room didn’t illuminate much, and nothing that Jared could see was out of place. The television was playing softly, but he couldn’t hear anything else that might indicate someone was inside.

“Jensen?” he called, in a voice which was probably too soft to be heard over the television, but which he just couldn’t seem to make louder.

The light went out and the television fell silent. Jared gripped the edge of the door tightly, but it remained still in his grip, and eventually he pushed it open all the way. He stepped into the doorway and hesitated there, fumbling at the wall for the light switch. He flicked it up and down a few times, but the light didn’t come on. Of course.

Jared looked despairingly at the hallstand where they kept the flashlight. He scrutinised the floor in search of the doorstop, which was nowhere to be found. Well, so be it then. He stepped fully inside and moved over to the hallstand with quick steps. Just as he reached it, the door slammed with a resounding bang, making Jared jump. It was dark inside, without the light from the street coming in, and Jared shivered. He opened the hallstand drawer and felt around for the flashlight. He couldn’t find it. He lifted up layers of restaurant menus and vaguely informative pamphlets for local services, but there was clearly nothing in the drawer which resembled a flashlight.

“Shit,” Jared muttered, searching the drawer one last, frantic time. There was no flashlight, but there was something in there, something which moved and had far too many legs. He felt it crawl up his wrist and when his mind supplied the word ‘spider’ logic deserted him.

Jared shrieked and jumped away from the hallstand, waving his hand around wildly and stamping his feet. The spider fell and, presumably, scuttled away unharmed, although it was too dark to see. Jared brushed his clothes down compulsively, running his fingers through his hair, uncomfortably aware of the way his scream had echoed through the house.

“Jensen?” Jared called again. “Jensen? Where are you?” There was no answer. He nudged open the bedroom door and looked inside. Moonlight was coming through the window and he couldn’t see anyone inside.

Jared looked up the hallway. It was pitch dark and forbidding. He crossed the entrance to the living room, meaning to go that way instead. The television was still on, but there was no picture, only flickering static. It did little to illuminate the room, but when Jared tried the light switch nothing happened, so it was all he had.

Things looked normal enough, as far as Jared could see. A few DVD cases had fallen to the floor in front of the television. Jensen must have cleaned up the kitchen, because the dishes had been cleared from the dining table and were stacked in the drying rack. Jared could see all the way through to the kitchen windows, but no further. He knew he should have been able to see the tree in the backyard, illuminated by the neighbour’s lights, but the windows were inky black like the bottom of a well. Maybe the neighbours were just away, their lights turned off, but Jared didn’t think so.

“Jensen?”

Jared edged past the living room towards the dining table, but paused as he passed the TV. If he looked closely, it was almost like there were two darker spots in the static on the screen. Two vaguely oval shaped spots, sitting side by side about halfway down the screen. When Jared moved, so did they.

He stepped sideways a little faster, moving away from the television, afraid to keep looking at it but far too frightened to turn away. “Jensen!”

Jensen didn’t reply but music started to play, and Jared couldn’t be sure but he thought it might be a bit louder this time than it had been before. ‘It’s heavenly,’ cried the singer. Jared started to run, but as he passed the dining table one of the chairs jerked out into his path and he crashed into it. He stumbled and steadied himself by catching the chair, breathing hard.

A whisper seemed to come out of the walls. “No one’s going to hear you.” Jared looked around, but the words weren’t coming from particular spot; they seemed to be all around him. “No one can hear you.”

“Jensen!” Jared screamed, shoving the chair out of his way. The music went on, ‘brings out the devil in me,’ and Jared reached the kitchen. He ducked out of the way when the freezer door swung open unexpectedly, narrowly missing his head. He scurried past, gasping for breath - not from exertion, but from fear. He stood in the doorway and looked across to the bathroom hatefully. He’d known all along that he was going to end up here, that he wasn’t going to find Jensen in any other room of the house. The door was shut and there was no light shining from beneath it, but he was sure Jensen was on the other side.

“Jensen?” Jared called. He stepped across the hallway and his foot slipped. He fell against the banister of the stairs, banging his knee painfully. “Fuck!” Jared put his hand down on the floor to push himself back up, and found that it was wet. From what, he couldn’t be sure.

‘Hell ain’t a bad place to be,’ went the music, ‘I said, hell ain’t a bad place to be.’ It was too dark to see but Jared brought his fingers up to his face and sniffed, gingerly. He rubbed his fingers together, feeling the tackiness of whatever he’d touched. Was it blood? He couldn’t tell, but as soon as his mind conjured the possibility he could consider nothing else.

“Jensen!” Jared reached the bathroom door and pounded on it with his fist. “Jensen, are you in there?”

He waited for Jensen to answer, to say something that would make the whole frightening episode a laughable product of an overactive imagination, like “Wait your turn!” or “Cross your legs!” It didn’t come.

Jared tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. It wasn’t locked; the handle turned but the door was still, like it was stuck in the frame. Or like something was holding it shut. He rattled the knob, putting his shoulder against the door and shoving as hard as he could. It gave slightly, but not enough.

Jared stepped back from the door and lined up a kick. It wasn’t very effective; at the last moment he was too nervous to hit the door with his full force, and his foot barely tapped it. The second kick was better, stronger. Louder, too. Loud enough that Jensen heard it.

“Stop!” Jensen called from inside the bathroom. “Stop it!”

Jared froze. “Jensen?” he yelled. “Jensen, are you okay?”

“Stop it, stop it,” Jensen chanted. Jared wondered if Jensen was replying to him, if Jensen could even hear him.

“Stand back from the door,” he called, just in case, and kicked it again. He heard Jensen give a frightened yell and felt guilty, but the door had split down the middle and Jared was sure one more kick would be enough. He lashed out with his foot and nearly fell through the shattered remains of the door, stumbling into the room.

“Jensen!” Jared gasped. Jensen was slumped against the wall by the bathtub, his arms up over his head. “Jensen, I’m here.”

Jared crossed the room to Jensen’s side and knelt down next to him. He took one of Jensen’s hands in his. Jensen flinched and whimpered, and Jared said soothingly, “It’s just me, Jensen. It’s just me.”

“Jared?” Jensen whispered, lowering his arms. “Oh, God. You’re here. You have to get out.” His face was covered in blood running down from somewhere above his hairline, and his speech was a little bit slurred.

“We’re both getting out,” Jared said, standing and hauling Jensen up with him.

“She’s not going to let us go,” Jensen argued.

“She’s gonna have to,” Jared retorted. He was grateful for his size for once, as it made it easy to steer Jensen towards the door. “What happened to your head?”

“She threw a glass at me,” Jensen growled. The fragments of wood from the door trembled where they were lying on the floor and they both tensed, but they didn’t move any more than that.

“Come on,” Jared said, taking a step. His eyes went to the mirror, and he froze. In the darkness, it was hard to make out, but he could see his own dim reflection, and Jensen next to him. There was a third figure, too, standing on the edge of the bath. There wasn’t enough light to see any features, just a vaguely humanoid shape, and one hand reaching out...

“Run!” Jared yelled, leaping for the door. They crashed through it, tripping over the splintered wood and falling against the wall of the hallway. Jensen grunted in pain and Jared clutched at him, not willing to take the time to figure out how badly he was hurt. He looked back into the bathroom, at the spot where, in the mirror, an unidentifiable figure had been standing behind him.

The space was empty, of course. Jared was pretty sure he wouldn’t have seen anything even if he’d turned around right then and there. The fear was still almost overpowering.

Jared looked with purpose at the back door, and began to walk that way, supporting Jensen as well as he could. It was only a few steps; they could make it. They were nearly out.

The glass panels in the door were just as black and impenetrable as the kitchen windows. It was like they’d been transported to another world, like he might get through the door only to find the house sitting in the middle of a desert, or a forest, or a barren moonscape, with no one around for thousands of miles. But there had to be people out there, people who would help them. There had to be someone. Someone would be out there, wouldn’t they?

Jared stared at the door, willing someone to be on the other side, almost imagining that he could see them. And then, like so many other times since they’d moved, he wasn’t sure where the line sat between what he was imagining and what was real, because he thought he could see a face on the other side of the door. There was barely enough light to make it out, but that looked like an eye, down in the bottom left corner, with dark hair hanging down over the face.

“Help!” Jared yelled. “HELP US!”

The face shifted, like the person had been crouching down and was now standing up. Jared could see a mouth, with full, curved lips, which turned into a smile. The lips parted to reveal teeth, and as Jared watched, the teeth sharpened into fangs.

Can’t go that way, Jared thought dimly. Can’t go that way.

He spun around to go to the other door, and an arm stretched out from where the laundry door sat just barely open. The hand closed around Jensen’s wrist and tugged, hard.

“Get off!” Jensen cried out. Jared put his arms around Jensen’s waist and pulled, but couldn’t break the hand’s grip. Jensen braced his foot against the door jamb, but the hand dragged them both inexorably forward.

“Let me go,” Jensen said. “Let me go and make a run for it, Jared!”

“No!” Jared reached into his pocket for his pocket knife, flicking the blade open. He swung at the hand gripping Jensen’s arm, trying to pull Jensen back at the same time. The hand let go at the last possible moment, slipping away into the darkness behind the door like a fish darting down into a pond. Jared stumbled as the resistance pulling Jensen away disappeared, and the point of his knife stabbed into the back of Jensen’s wrist.

“Ouch!” Jensen yelped.

“Shit,” Jared cursed, seeing blood well up. He hoped the wound wasn’t too deep. “Sorry.”

The ground shuddered, and cracks appeared between the tiles and up the walls. Plaster dust came down from the ceiling. “Oops,” Jared muttered. “Come on, hurry!”

They stumbled down the hallway towards the front door. It looked longer than normal, and as they ran towards it Jared began to doubt that it was just a product of his fear and the dim light. They weren’t getting closer to the door like they should be.

“You won’t get out,” came a voice out of the walls. “You won’t ever get out.”

“Let us go!” Jared sobbed. The tiles underfoot were uneven, sticking up in odd places and shifting underfoot. Jensen tripped and Jared clutched him with shaking hands.

The walls shuddered. A framed picture came loose and crashed to the ground. Jared stepped carelessly over the glass shards that scattered over the floor, but the door was no closer.

“No one gets out,” the voice whispered. “No one gets to leave.”

“Please!” Jared gasped. His lungs were burning and it was getting harder to hold Jensen up. “You could let us go.”

“You have to stay here. Forever.”

Jared glanced behind him. The back door was far, far behind, but the front door was still way ahead. The hallway stretched much longer than it should have. “You don’t have to,” Jared said, resolutely putting one foot ahead of the other. “You don’t have to stay here. You’re not trapped here anymore. You can leave if you want to.”

He waited breathlessly for a response, still striving to reach a door that was almost too far away to see. Jensen coughed and bent over, vomiting on the cracked tiles. Jared shook with the effort of holding onto him. He didn’t dare stop and check if Jensen was okay; worried as he was about how badly Jensen must have hit his head, he felt compelled to keep dragging him forward.

“You can go now,” Jared said, his voice becoming weak. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” His legs felt heavy and stiff and his lungs burned. Jared didn’t think he could keep going much longer.

There was a moment of stillness in the house, a pause, like it was drawing breath. And then Jared slammed against the front door, trying to hold onto Jensen and shield him from some of the impact. He looked up, not quite believing that it was true, that they’d made it.

In the living room, the television was still on, still showing a fuzzy, pictureless screen. Jared remembered the eyes that he’d seen there. They were gone now, the screen showing uniform static.

In the corner between the front door and the living room wall, the darkness moved.

Jared leaped away, shoving open the bedroom door and dragging Jensen through it. He slammed it closed behind him. Pointless, Jared thought. Surely what he’d seen wouldn’t be stopped by a closed door? It didn’t even have a lock. He looked around the room frantically.

“How you holding up, Jensen?” he asked.

“Don’t feel so good,” Jensen mumbled.

Jared backed up towards the bed. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but the dark shape of the door seemed to be growing darker. He reached out, and his hand brushed the shade of the lamp on the bedside table. It had been his grandmother’s, years ago, before he’d moved out of home and she’d given it to him with a pile of other second-hand necessities. It was fifteen inches tall, with a heavy bronze base.

Jared wrapped his hand around the lamp, just below the shade. He didn’t want to take the time to unplug it from the socket so he yanked the cord from the wall forcefully. He glanced over to the door again; that side of the room definitely looked darker, and if he looked at the right spot the shadows had the suggestion of a head, turned his way.

“Jensen?” he asked. Jensen didn’t answer, but gripped his arm. Jared looked at the window, and wound back for a swing. His first effort shattered the window leaving a jagged, two foot hole. He used the lamp to knock free the glass shards still clinging to the window frame at the bottom and around the sides, but the darkness was closing in and Jared didn’t want to take more time.

“Come on, Jensen,” he said, bringing Jensen to the window. He thought about putting a jacket or something over the windowsill, but Jensen put his hands out and Jared decided there was no time. Jensen put one hand on Jared’s shoulder and unsteadily eased himself through the window, hesitating on the edge before toppling to the ground.

“Jensen!” Jared yelled as he fell out of sight, but he ruthlessly told himself he needed to get out before he could worry about anything else. He got his foot up on the windowsill and glanced over his shoulder.

She was standing behind him, as much as what she was doing could be called standing. Her body was as shapeless and dark as black mist, but Jared could see her face. She looked - sad. Her hair was dark and messy and her eyes were sunken, and the look she turned on Jared was so mournful that he felt sympathetic tears stinging his eyes.

“Don’t leave me alone,” she whispered.

Jared shifted on the windowsill. Glass fragments were cutting into his knees. “You’ll kill me,” he answered.

She gazed at him, an expression of loneliness and loss. “You’ll leave me.”

They froze like that, Jared’s eyes locked to the dark empty eyes of the apparition, neither one knowing how to break the stalemate. As the seconds passed and Jared didn’t climb back inside, her eyes began to narrow and her teeth began to lengthen. She lunged, and Jared flung himself backwards with all his might.

He landed with a painful thump on the porch. Jensen grunted; Jared’s foot had hit him in the chest. He tried to pull himself upright and get his bearings. Were they safe now they were outside, or did they need to be further from the house? Jared couldn’t see anything through the window, but that didn’t reassure him.

“Come on, come on, get up,” he said urgently, yanking at Jensen’s arm. They fell down the steps and landed on the front lawn, but Jared kept pulling Jensen along until they passed the front fence and collapsed on the sidewalk.

“We got out,” Jared said, panting.

Jensen was looking around like he didn’t quite believe it. “Yeah,” he said vaguely.

Jared took Jensen’s shoulders and turned the other man towards him. “Look at me,” he said. “You hit your head. Did you black out? How well can you see?” He held up a couple of fingers, but Jensen wasn’t really paying attention.

“Jared,” he said. “I’m-” he glanced back at the house. “I’m really sorry I didn’t believe you. I’m sorry I didn’t take you seriously.”

“It’s okay, Jensen, I’m just glad you’re alright. Let me see your hand. Did the bleeding stop?”

Jared took Jensen’s left arm, and he flinched. “She grabbed me,” he said. “Her hand was right there.”

“Yeah,” Jared said, remembering. “What did it feel like?”

Jensen’s gaze was distant. “Dead,” he said, shuddering.

Jared looked at Jensen, not liking the way his gaze wandered and how his hands shook. “Come on,” he said, “we need to get you to the ER. Let’s see if the people next door will let us use their phone.”

***

“After today, I vote we never move again.”

“Seconded,” Jared said wearily. “If the building collapses, we’ll just live in the rubble.”

It was a two-bedroom apartment on the third floor. It was in a quiet suburb, and through rigorous research, Jared had established that no one had ever died there. It wasn’t perfect, and they would have to live with the ugly wallpaper since they were renting, but it was somewhere to stay while they waited for the insurance to come through on the house.

The evaluator from the insurance company had seemed puzzled, but put the cracked walls and loose tiles down to earthquake damage. He had told them not to expect a huge payout, but there would be enough to keep them from bankruptcy while they put the house on the market.

Jensen squashed the last kitchen box flat and looked around, pleased. “I like it,” he said. “It’s closer to my work, too. I don’t think I’m gonna miss the old place at all.”

Jared had a few more reservations than Jensen seemed to. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing?” he asked. “If we sell the house and someone buys it, they might get hurt.”

“With the condition the house is in, they’ll have to bulldoze it,” Jensen said. “I think they’ll be safe.”

“You can’t know that, though,” Jared protested, but Jensen just shrugged. “And anyway, if destroying the house does get rid of her - what does that mean? What will happen to her? Where does she go?”

“Don’t really care,” Jensen said. “Hopefully to hell, where she belongs.”

“That’s not fair. What happened to her wasn’t her fault. She was hurt and angry and lonely.”

“Yeah, and she tried to kill us.” Jensen stood in front of Jared. “It sucks, but after what we went through I don’t have a lot of sympathy left over.”

Jared nodded reluctantly, hating that Jensen had a point. Jensen gathered together an armful of boxes and headed for the door.

“Hey, wait - where are you going?” Jared asked anxiously.

Jensen looked down at the boxes with a raised eyebrow. “Down to the recycling bin?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” Jared relaxed. “I thought you were leaving.”

Jensen smiled. “I’m not going anywhere, Jared.” He leaned over to peck Jared on the lips. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Jared kissed him back with a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “You won’t leave me.” He watched Jensen pull the door to behind him. “You won’t leave me.”




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