Page 7 of Hollow House
It wasn’t until I was far older that the rumors of the party of desires started circulating. There wasn’t a specific person who could point toward it being true, but each Halloween, theproperty lit up. Cars dropped guests off in the big half circle driveway, and the entire house remained completely alive until morning.
Then, the rest of the year, it was vacant besides the workers who took care of the property. Never once had I seen the person who owned the house. No one even knew their name.
A shiver ran down my spine, the cool breeze picking up and rustling leaves that had fallen on the sidewalk.
Only a few blocks from my house, movement to my left caught my eye, a blur I could barely make out down the alley I passed. I tried to take another step but froze, a shadow moving in my peripheral.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I turned fully to face the alley. Part of me was afraid I’d find someone waiting for me. Maybe I should’ve had Felix walk me.
My eyes glanced down the alley, my heart pounding in my chest, but there was nothing. No person or animal sat in the dark, only a trash bin and a few abandoned boxes outside the back door of a restaurant.
I blinked a few more times just to be completely sure. The stress of the job was getting to me. I moved on, afraid to linger much longer. It was growing pitch black out the more time I took to get back home.
My small yellow house sat on the corner of the block. The neighbors were returning home with their children for the night, and I gave a wave as I passed their driveway. It was peaceful in this section of town.
Mail poked out of the mailbox beside my front door. I emptied it, the metal clinking as the top flap shut. The mail shuffled in my hands, and I tried to maneuver finding my key while not dropping it. I pulled it out of my purse while managing to balance everything I held.
The door to my tiny house unlocked seconds after I stuck the key in, and I quickly shut and locked it behind me as I slipped inside, unable to shake the eerie feeling.
Silence was thick in the air, and I hung up my keys and purse on the little hooks next to the door. I had no pets or partner, no one waiting for me to get home.
A small thud sounded down the hall, and I dropped the mail. Instinctively, my eyes looked for the nearest weapon.The only thing I could find was a an old umbrella propped in the corner by the door. It would have to do.
I picked it up and slowly shuffled down the hall, trying to make as little noise as possible. The sound came from the kitchen straight ahead of me.
I couldn’t see anyone, but the narrow hall only showed me a sliver of the space. My heart pounded, and the more sensical side of me started to wonder if I should’ve called the authorities.
And say what?I heard a noise. I thought I saw a shadowy figure down an alley. That was a sure way to have myself questioned, my sanity slipping.
I shook my head.
It was probably nothing. Exhaustion and a tough day, that was all.
I poked my head around the corner, my breath catching in my throat.
Items sat on the island counter in the middle of my kitchen. The red in the middle left me breathless as I approached, my heart still pounding.
The rose sat perfectly placed in the middle of the counter, and I reached out to pick it up. A note sat underneath the flower,and I noticed my name written in cursive on the outside. A mask sat to the side.
My hand trembled, setting the flower down and lifting the note. This wasn’t in my house when I left for work, which meant someone had been inside.
Were they still?
The feeling of being watched crept back in, and my entire body trembled. My phone weighed heavy in my pocket, and the temptation to call someone grew. The tiny note remained firmly in my grasp.
My head whipped around, searching for someone, anyone, inside my home. I looked for whoever left it, wondering if they watched while I decided what to do. The black paper with white writing didn’t look threatening. If someone was watching and waiting for me to open it…
The choice was simple.
Pick up the phone and call the authorities before it was too late or open the note.
I knew what I should do, what any rational person would do.
But—
I opened the note before I could think it through. Inside was a card, the outline of a rose drawn on the left and three words written on the right. The writing was more like a rose gold engraving into the black paper.
“Answer the call.”
