IV. PREMONITION

7 0 0
                                    

I took three breaths before twisting the key in the lock and jiggling the knob three times. Once I was inside my new home, I unlocked and locked the door three times. I had to do everything in threes. Always. Always. Always.

It had been that way ever since the night my parents disappeared; March 3rd, 1933. I was three years old. And now, 33 years later, I had returned. This time as the owner of the house.

Tired from a long drive, I brought in only the boxes that contained items I'd need for my nightly routine. After brushing my teeth, turning on and off the lights, and re-checking the door in sets of threes, I settled into the bed my parents had left behind.

For some strange reason, the house had sat exactly as the night they disappeared. Nobody came to move the furniture or to sell the house. I had been the last, and was now the first, living soul on the premises in those 33 vacant years.

At exactly 3:33 AM, my eyes flickered open. My throat felt incredibly parched and I found myself unable to fall back asleep until I quenched it. I found a glass in one of the boxes and brought it to the kitchen.

As I was pouring my third glass of water, a strange sound erupted from the living room. A glowing light illuminated the tiled flooring and created a path for my curious feet to follow. At the end of the bright trail, I found myself standing before the television.

Static rippled across the screen and drew me in. I stared so long that I began to see shapes in the static. I shook myself out of it and told myself I was just sleep-deprived. I reached down to turn the television off when a shout blasted my eardrums.

"Wait!"

I tripped and fell backwards onto the carpet. Had the television just talked to me?

"Samantha, wait!" the television shouted again. The static moved in the shape of a mouth as it spoke.

"Honey, it's us!" the TV said, but this time the mouth was slimmer and the voice was different; it was a woman's instead of a man's.

"Who--who are you?" I stammered, but somewhere in the pit of my stomach I knew.

"Your parents!" the man said. "We've been trapped in this television for 33 years."

"Sweetheart, we're sorry that we haven't been able to be there for you," the woman continued.

"How did this happen?" I asked.

"When we first turned on the television it sucked us in," the man answered. "Darling, we need your help to get out."

"How?"

"You need to--" the woman said before she was cut off by a sharp series of cackles that sent goosebumps across every inch of my skin.

The screen flickered to black for a split second before an eye appeared on the screen. It blinked and looked down at me frozen on the floor.

Then everything turned black.

Halloween Vault #2Where stories live. Discover now