Chapter 004: Bump In The Night
***
After exploring the first level of the house and the second level, seeing another bathroom, three bedrooms—including a bedroom Emmy assumed was Harold Morrow's and his wife's—a study and a smaller staircase leading to what was probably the attic, the Scooby Gang unanimously decided to head back downstairs and regroup. Going into the living room, they stood next to the coffee table instead of sitting on the couch or any of the two armchairs, since they couldn't be possibly okay for someone to sit on them after forty years of neglect. And just like the rest of the Morrow House, the living room was a picture of slow decay—peeling wallpaper that showed spots of barren wood, an empty fireplace with streaks of soot on the stone and abandoned, charred logs inside, and a clock on top of the mantelpiece practically entombed in cobwebs. A chandelier just as entrapped as the clock hung above their heads while a lamp covered in wispy cobwebs stood on a table next to one of the two armchairs, and just like every light fixture in the house, it didn't work.
But through the cobwebs, through the abandonment, Emmy could see hints of when the Morrows used to live here—a photo next to the clock of the Morrows, smiling at Lake Sampson, a couple magazines on the coffee table, and The Picture Of Dorian Grey next to the lamp, and on the floor next to the couch was a hair clip.
Emmy frowned as she looked at the shiny red hair clip lying next to the couch, almost as if it had been thrown down there. Maybe one of the Morrow girls had lost it. And yet, some parts of the red hair clip didn't look right...
"Emmy! Quick!"
Emmy jumped, turning to her friends grouped together, Sasha gesturing as she held up her camera. Her grin slipped slightly. "Hey, you okay? You've been acting weird all night."
"I'm fine. Must be lost in my own head. Hey, maybe I am possessed," Emmy answered, sarcasm slipping in.
"Want us to call the exorcist? Oh, hey, maybe Ghostbusters are in the neighbourhood," Quinn teased, before Sasha sharply elbowed Quinn. "Ow! Jesus, Sasha, I'm kidding! But Ems, you sure you're okay? You've been really trippin' out since we got here."
"I'm fine, guys. Really. All okay here," Emmy assured, smiling.
Her friends didn't look convinced, but Sasha jerked her head. "Okay. Well, come over here! I'm just about to take the photo!"
"I'm coming!" Emmy said, pausing before she bent down and grabbed the hair clip, sliding it into her pocket next to her switchblade. Something about it making her feel like she needed to get it, like it was important.
Emmy pushed why away as she joined up with her friends, Ben sliding an arm around Quinn and pulling her in close as she rolled her eyes, but grinned and made the rock n' roll sign as Emmy leaned against Sasha, smiling as her friend pressed the button.
The flash went off, momentarily blinding Emmy as it took the photo before it was spat out. Sasha grabbed it, waving it in the air to help it develop as they stepped away. When it was, they peered over Sasha's shoulder to see it.
"Hey, that doesn't look too half-bad," Ben commented,
"You're in doubt of my photography skills, Montgomery?" Sasha asked, eyebrow raised.
Ben raised his hands in peace. "No, not at all! Given how it's so fucking dark in here aside from the flashlights, I thought that it'd be an issue."
"No, you have a point, but I think it looks pretty good," Sasha said, smiling at the picture.
"Yeah. And we do look awesome—who knew exploring abandoned creepy houses could be kinda fun?" Ben mused.
"I think our friend group's namesake, Ben," Emmy pointed out dryly.
"Point."
"Yeah, we do look pretty badass," Quinn concurred, grinning.
"This is definitely going in the scrapbook," Sasha declared as she put the photo in her bag. "Now, time for solos. Quinn, give me your best ghost-debunking smile..."
As Sasha raised the camera and Quinn gave a wide grin, Emmy's skin prickled as something brushed past her arm.
Shivers skittered down her spine as Emmy glanced behind her, but nothing except shadows and the empty, dust-shrouded living room greeted her. Sliding a hand over her neck, Emmy rubbed it to get rid of the prickling, frowning. What was that? And why did the room feel so much... colder?
The prickling rose up as out of the corner of her eye, something seemed to gather shape in the shadows and Emmy turned and—
Nothing. There was nothing there.
Calm down, Emmy. It's just your imagination. It's only shadows. It's just your imagination, Emmy scolded herself as the click of the camera went off and Sasha lowered the camera as Ben dropped his smile, asking, "You caught my good side, right?"
"You always have a good side," Sasha remarked, rolling her eyes fondly as she waved the Polaroid.
"Doesn't hurt to ask," Ben said, shrugging. Glancing over to Emmy, his easy smile fell. "You alright, Ems?"
"Fine. My turn, right?" Emmy asked, trying to ignore the cold, the prickling still lingering on her skin. The goosebumps shivering across her neck, like cold, clawed fingers were scraping across it.
"Yup!" Sasha confirmed, raising the Polaroid. "Say, 'No ghosts!'"
"No ghosts," Emmy deadpanned as the camera went off.
As the Polaroid came out and Sasha grabbed it, she frowned. "Huh."
"What is it?" Emmy asked, moving to her friend.
"Ben's right. The shadows are messing up my photos—there's some real weird distortion here," Sasha observed as they looked over, seeing Emmy standing there, a look as deadpan as her tone on her face, and around her...
Around Emmy, the shadows seemed to be darker, more... solid. Almost... humanoid.
"Yeah, that is a really weird distortion," Emmy agreed, as she looked at it. Even as her skin prickled at seeing it, at feeling that weird cold lingering in the still air.
"Should have known the shadows would be just as creepy," Quinn commented.
"Yeah. Was it too much to ask for normal shadows?" Ben joked, grinning.
"Apparently so," Sasha said, before handing her camera to Emmy. "Ems, you mind if you take my picture?"
"Sure," Emmy said, raising the camera. "Smile, Sash."
Sasha did, smiling brightly as the camera went off.
The phot was spat out, fluttering down to the ground before Emmy caught it and waving it to help it develop.
What Emmy saw had her freeze.
"So, how do I look?" Sasha inquired, grinning. "Any weird shadows?"
Emmy swallowed, staring at the photo. At the captured image of Sasha, trying to ignore the shaking in her hand, the prickling shivering over her body. The cold pressing in, those finger-like brushes skittering over her chilled skin. The uptick in her heartbeat.
"Sasha..."
BANG!
The four teens jolted, whirling as their flashlights lit up the empty, yawning darkness in front of them, the muffled banging noise continuing.
"Did you hear that?" Quinn whispered.
Ben nodded. "Yeah. I... I think we all did."
"What is it?" Sasha murmured.
Emmy gulped, before she said quietly, "That's what we're gonna find out."
Eyeing each other, they all walked forward—rule number one of a horror movie, never split up—and out of the living room, down the hallway. Emmy slipped the photo in her pocket, clutching it in her hand. The hilt of her switchblade grazed her knuckles, as did the red hair clip. As it did, something sharp and hot raced up her hand like she'd been shocked and Emmy bit back a hiss, focusing instead on the noise, on the prickling skittering all over her body and how it only increased as they headed into the kitchen, the banging louder now, and—
A tree branch was banging against the window.
"Oh God. It was just a stupid branch," Quinn muttered, glaring at the branch as if it personally offended her.
"Should have known. Classic horror movie staple," Ben commented.
"I distinctly remember you being just as freaked out as us," Sasha reminded pointedly.
"Oh I totally was. Just saying branch against the window is horror movie 101," Ben argued, but his voice seemed to fade as something pricked at Emmy's ears.
"Yeah, as if our lives are a horror movie."
The noise grew a fraction louder as the prickling intensified, and it almost sounded... it almost sounded like...
"Emmy would agree with me, right, Ems? Ems? Emmy?"
"Oh, yeah, totally. Classic horror movie," Emmy said, her voice sounding vague to her ears.
"Emmy—" Ben started, but Emmy interrupted, "It's okay. I'm okay. But... maybe we should leave."
Her friends exchanged looks, but they left, returning back to the hallway as the noise lessened, the prickling fading.
As they did, Sasha said, "Hey, I never got to see my photo. You still have it, Ems?"
"Yeah, but Sasha, maybe you shouldn't see it," Emmy warned, pulling it out.
Sasha frowned. "Why?"
"I... I guess just see for yourself," Emmy said as she handed it over. Sasha looked at it, for what felt like an agonisingly long time, before saying, "I don't see what the big deal is, I look fine."
"You do?" Emmy questioned as she looked at the photo and saw Sasha smiling. Saw it looked normal.
"Yeah," Sasha answered. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah. Guess the house is screwing with my head," Emmy answered, plastering on a smile as they returned back to the living room, already joking about the tree branch and whatever creepy, easily explainable sounds they would hear next. Emmy tried to join in, but it felt more forced than before, as her skin still had a slight prickle, the chill in the air not leaving, as she knew what she'd seen in Sasha's photo—that her best friend had been covered in shadows, her smile stretched too wide, eyes voids, and her neck split open and oozing red blood.
And the noise she heard, it almost sounded like...
Growling.
But that was the house, being old as shit, and Emmy's mind and the darkness playing tricks on her. There was nothing in the shadows, no ghosts hiding within them. It was only the four of them.
Wasn't it?
***
You sure about that, Emmy?
Okay, I lied. This is the only real calm chapter—but, as you can see, spookiness is happening. And the haunting will definitely begin next chapter...
As for Emmy, she is definitely sensing something, and she—and everyone else—will find out what it is soon >:)
Please read, comment and vote!
GhostWriterGirl out!