Chapter 54 #2
Focusing on the doorway to the landing, I try to move, but the room slides, like the whole house has been tilted on its side.
I brace myself, hands out in front of me.
Slowing my breathing, I try to process this rationally. Is this a fucking earthquake? That can be the only reason why the room suddenly feels like it’s slipping beneath me.
My heart races in my chest and pounds in my ears, my blood rushing around my body like it’s being chased by a mountain lion. And just when I think life is playing cruel fucking games with me, I hear a noise like the swishing of a skirt, the rustling of movement.
But I’m the only person in this house.
The knives on the table flash before my eyes, the kitchen drawers opened by nothing. Fenrir poised, gun aimed at the emptiness behind me before he fired into the wall. The bed lying two feet below as I floated above, nothing holding me there.
Stop it.
Must move. Must get out of here.
Steadying my footing, I take a step, but the room laughs at me as it tilts me further towards the bed.
Holding both my hands out, I try to grab onto something. As I do, an eerie feeling creeps up the back of my neck, cold and uninvited.
It’s just your imagination. Ignore it. Find something to hold on to.
The bed. My fingers trail over the smooth wood of the headboard, reading it like it’s Braille, telling me a haunting story where a girl gets trapped in a house of tricks and shadows.
Stop it.
It’s just an old house. The lights have tripped before. This isn’t the first time I’ve been stuck in the dark.
But I’m panicking. It’s no wonder after recent events. My heart rate is already elevated.
I’m stressed and hyper-aware of what’s going on. But as I tell myself this, the cold creeps over my neck, and I swear my hair moves.
I slap the back of my head, pulling my hand down my hair and over my neck. I continue to shuffle forwards, using the bed as a guideline.
Not far until I reach the doorway, which is six, maybe seven paces away.
Just get to the end of the bed, then run.
Five paces, four.
I’m almost there.
As I edge forwards, my gaze fixes on the open doorway to the landing. The banister is just visible, running from the stairs along the hall. I brace to run, drawing in a deep breath—
“Where are you going?”
The voice slices through the air, freezing my heart, my body, my soul.
* * *
FENRIR
Starting the engine of the Jeep, I watch the plough turn into the drive, then swing back out slowly onto the road, the driver not giving me a backwards glance.
I’ve kept myself busy all day because if I’d stopped, I wouldn’t have been able to fight the anxiety burrowing under my skin about whether we’re doing the right thing.
The mountain is dangerous, the road precarious.
Thoughts of getting trapped under an avalanche or the Jeep sliding off the road and down the side of the mountain have been plaguing me since we decided we’d leave the house. But the alternative isn’t much better.
By now, Devall will know something is amiss, having been unable to get in contact with us. Yes, I could explain the issue with the phones as the connection being disrupted by the weather, but how the fuck would I have explained why Willa isn’t here? Why she couldn’t come to the phone?
I keep trying to justify the decision to run since Hayami mentioned the idea herself, but I always come back to the fact that she hasn’t run. Because she knows how it’d end. We both know what will be at the end of this.
The whole time we’ve been digging, I’ve been avoiding looking at her.
For the past six months, Hayami’s carried the darkness around with her—the one I presume arrived the minute I pulled her from that pool.
But today, it’s grown darker, as if the shadow’s swarming her, watching, waiting, growing stronger by the second, knowing death is near.
I haven’t looked in a mirror in years. If I were to do so, my own shadow would be the same—pulsing around me like it’s clapping its hands. It knows we’re doomed.
So, I’m sitting in the Jeep, revving the engine, heater on full, prepping myself for the most dangerous drive of my life. We’ve chased off death before, so I’m hoping we can do it again. We have to try.
The plough moves slowly, reaching the corner of the road where it will disappear, its lights blaring against the dark backdrop.
The dark.
Fuck.
I dip my head, analysing the sky that’s changed from a lucid grey to a penetrating gunmetal in the last few minutes. I give it ten more minutes before it’ll be pitch-black.
Come on, Hayami.
I look back at the house.
I wait.
Nothing.
No Hayami.
Impatience drums at my insides along with something else—a nagging familiar feeling that has nothing to do with the icy road, the treacherous drive, or the death run we’re about to embark upon, and everything to do with the shit that’s been going down in that house.
The door is wide open, Hayami having not bothered to close it after she ran inside. I can only just make out the dying headlights of the snow plough.
The sky is closing in on us. There’s no more time.
As I fling open the door to the Jeep and swing my legs out, the house goes black. All the lights have gone out.
Fuck.
I jump out of the Jeep and run towards the front door, trying not to pay attention to how dark the inside of the house looks.
“Hayami!” I call as I race into the grey foyer. No reply.
Fuck!
Stupid, Fucking stupid. Why did I let her go inside by herself?
Stepping further into the house, I can’t ignore the drop in temperature, the sinister feeling that envelops me as soon as my feet hit the floor.
“Hayami!” I call out again. My senses are playing tricks on me, as I swear I see something move by the stairs, a flicker of something dashing by me.
It’s just nerves, just the tension of this situation playing mind games with me.
Stay alert.
Stay focused.
Get Hayami.
Get the fuck out of here.
Making my way to the rear of the house, I wish I had my phone turned on so I could use the torch, as a thick blanket of darkness covers the interior with such menace that I can’t help but wonder if it’s natural or is being pumped out like a smoke machine.
“Hayami?” The change in my voice isn’t lost on me, the way her name sounds like a question.
I reach the downstairs toilet, which I presume is the one she chose to use, with it being the closest, but all I find is the door wide open, the bathroom empty, no running water from the cistern, and no residue in the basin from her having just washed her hands.
Shit.
What the fuck has happened to her? Where could she have gone?
Stop it.
She’ll be upstairs.
She’ll have gone to use the bathroom there for reasons best known to herself.
Despite the darkness, I pick up my pace and jog through the house and up the stairs.
As I stalk the long hallway, I shove open doors to spare rooms, the large bathroom, and my room until I reach the master bedroom. The door is already open. The icy chill of a breeze brushes over my face as if trying to warn me of what’s to come.
“Hayami!” I call, shoving the door open. The room is drenched in darkness that climbs the walls, hovers in plain sight, and clings to my skin.
But the darkness isn’t all I see.
I’d been convinced the draft was supernatural—an icy introduction to the malevolent spirit that roams this house—but I was wrong. The breeze is real, pouring in from the open balcony doors.
Hayami stands with one leg over the railing, her hands gripping either side of the ornate stone facade, her hair whipping in the wind, the darkness buzzing around her as if ready to swallow her whole.
And I freeze.
I don’t want to scare her into falling, and I’m not entirely sure who this is.
“Hayami?” I say her name gently and put out my arm as if to pull her back, using the force of my hand alone.
“Stay back,” she tells me. Her voice. Hayami. She isn’t being possessed. I can tell by the way her head moves, the way her eyes pin me down. This is Hayami. My Hayami. She isn’t crying, but I can tell she has been. Her eyes are glassy, and her cheeks are stained.
Holding both hands up to show her I’m no threat, I take a slow step towards her. “What are you doing out there?” I ask, hoping to distract her from the step I’ve just taken.
“I said stay back!” she insists.
I stop, keep my hands up where she can see them.
“Okay. But just tell me what you’re doing.” My gut churns.
“You know what I’m doing, and don’t you dare try to talk me out of it.” She’s spluttering, anger mixed with fresh tears.
I thought we were over this—the desire to take her own life. I thought I’d given her something to live for. But I think we both know that’s a lie.
“Okay,” I say with as much conviction as I can muster whilst she dangles on the edge of a thirty-foot drop. But I’ve got her attention, and now she stares at me, probably trying to work out my game plan, just as I’m also trying to figure it out.
“You’re not going to try and stop me?” Her eyes narrow, her grip on the balcony flimsy at best.
“No, but I’m going to ask you to tell me why. I need to know why this is the only option.” I lower my arms, hoping it will make her think I’m staying put.
Her head tips to the side, her gaze fixed on me before she inhales.
“I saw her. She was here,” she tells me in a shaky voice.
“Who?” I ask, even though I have a good idea who she’s talking about.
Kuchisake-Onna.
“The lights went out, and then I felt something, a freezing-cold air on the back of my neck, and then I heard a voice—her voice.”
Hayami’s eyes dart around as if checking to see that we’re still alone, even though I don’t think we’ve ever been alone here.
“I thought I saw something, a dark shadow. It was hard to tell, as there was just blackness, but I swear I saw the flash of eyes.”
Her words come quicker now, as if she needs to set them free.