Page 4 of Grotesque
I don’t know whatitwas, only that I feltsomethingmove when I did. But there was nothing in the hallway. Nothing lurking in the room with me, that I could tell. I turned, very slowly back to the window.
The window where I could now see the moon’s light casting down over the forest. It washed over the balcony, bathing the banister and two gargoyles that looked out over the garden in silver.
There had been something there. Something before that had been blocking my view.
I’d never moved so fast in my life.
My heart was pounding, blood pumping in my ears, as I walked quickly to my room. I wanted to run, to sprint, but the idea that something would chase me if I bolted kept me in check.
I reached the safety of my room, locking the door behind me, and rushed to the windows, pulling the curtains closed with shaking hands. Before I could second-guess myself, I was pulling the bedspread free and tossing it over the mirror of the vanity, trying desperately to hook a sheet over the one in the bathroom.
All the while my mind raced.
There had been something watching me. Something obscuring my view of the property.
The rational part of my brain said that a cloud had been covering the moon and that was why I couldn’t see anything. But there is always some sort of light, even if the moon’s face is hidden. You can always see in the darkness, trace outlines and shapes. Through the parlor’s window, there had been nothing.
I rested a trembling hand over my chest and dug a nail into the skin.
One night at a time. I could do this.
It was nothing. It had been a cloud covering the moon. It’s a big house. An old house. A big, old house that had been well taken care of, and houses that are taken care of don’t harbor anything sinister. Ghosts weren’t real.
I went through a list of rationalities until I finally calmed myself down. I let out a breath, my chest tight from holding it. I laughed, leaning my head back against the wall. “Good one, Grandma,” I said. Maybe ghostswerereal and this was Macky’s way of getting back at me for not being part of her life. I get a free home, and she gets a free haunt. It was a win-win.
I alsoclearlyneeded to layoff the horror movies.
The warm water of the shower was a much-needed comfort as I eased out of my anxiety. I lathered quickly, washing and rinsing my hair and body, before standing there to let the heat melt into my bones. It had been a long day. A long week. It had taken me longer than it should have to drive up from Florida. Major life changes always took it out of you, and I was exhausted. Not thinking clearly.
Maybe the house and I had gotten off on the wrong foot.
“Hello Glamis Manor, I’m Sorcha, pleased to meet you.” I held my hand out expectantly.
“Nice to meet you, Sorcha,” I said with a deeper voice.
“I’m sorry for barging in here like this, but you see, Maxine was my grandmother, and she left you to me. I’m going to take care of you from now on. So, I’ll obey the rules, and you don’t pull any pranks. Sound good?”
Of course there was no answer.
Still, it felt like the house was listening. I smiled to myself as I got out of the shower, water dripping lightly to the rug beneath my feet.
I wrung out my hair and changed. Even though I felt better about what had happened earlier, I was still too chicken to pull the sheet from the bathroom mirror. I made another pass through the room, checking all the closets and even under the bed, but as I already knew, it was just me.
I climbed under the covers with my book, but hadn’t even made it another ten pages before my eyes began to droop. Placing it on the bedside table and switching off the light, I curled into a small ball beneath the throw. I was tired. So tired now that everything had finally caught up with me and the adrenaline had completely worn off.
Tomorrow would be better.
Now that the house and I were acquainted, everything would be just fine. I let a soft, rhythmic tapping –like a bare branch on a windowpane – lull me to sleep.
How delicious.
Her brown hair had appeared dull through the windshield of her beat up car, but as soon as she’d stepped out, the sunlight had burnished it a dark copper. She had looked up at the manor and that was when my breath had caught. Bright green eyes, like two fine emerald gems. I flexed my tongue, imagining what they would feel like rolling around the inside of my mouth. She was a long-legged meal I could make several courses out of. I would have to take my time with her. Savor her.
It had been six months since the death of Maxine. Six months of waiting before the jewel-eyed beauty rolled up the drive and stepped onto the Glamis grounds. I’d been seething, a mass of fury and rage until the girl appeared.
Maxine, as dull-witted as she had appeared, had been cleverer than I had given her credit for. As she’d lain dying, her last breaths coming quick and shallow, she had spat in my face.
“You will never get what you desire,” she rasped.
