Page 8 of Grotesque
“A burger sounds amazing,” I said.
“I was going to swing by Carmel’s if you’re interested in joining me? It’s block up from here.” The hope in his question made me smirk.
I’d met guys like Quint before, but he seemed genuine.
Sure, there were a million things that could go wrong leaving with a stranger you just met, especially if you’re a woman, but Quint didn’t strike me as a bad guy. He had the good ol’ boyish character that balanced out his gruff features.
What’s the worst that could happen in a place like this?
We finished our drinks and strolled up the street. I told him about Miami, and he told me how the biggest city he had ever visited was Manhattan – a trip to visit another one of his sisters. Before I knew it, we were seated and stuffing our faces with possibly the best burger I’ve ever had. Whoever Carmel was, hats off to him.
It felt like I had known Quint for longer than a couple of hours. He had a familiar air about him. He was confident with a slight edge, but I caught him blushing at least once when I allowed myself to truly smile.
I’d been so spun up with the drama around Macky’s death and the sudden move, and was finally feeling like I could relax a little.
I stopped mid laugh at a story he was telling about how he had stolen his friend’s car as a prank when he was younger. The sun had completely vanished from the sky. I hadn’t even noticed when it had started to set, but now the tangerine blush of the clouds reflected off the water. I had less than an hour to get back to the house before the light would be gone completely. Before it was dark.Rule #3: Do not leave the shelter of the manor after nightfall.
“Oh fuck,” I hissed under my breath. I burst up from the table, fumbling a wad of cash from my pocket down. “I’m so sorry but I have to go.”
Quint’s entire countenance fell like I had just socked him in the gut. “Is everything ok?”
“No– yes. I’m sorry, I have to get home before dark.”
He cracked a hesitant smile. “You going to turn into a pumpkin or something?”
How did I even begin to explain my grandmother’s crazy rules and that I had no idea what would happen if I broke them? She was clearly superstitious, but I had already made the house a promise: that I wouldn’t break any of said rules. Not on the second night at least. Not until I found outwhyshe had those rules.
“Something like that.”
Quint grabbed my hand before I could dart out. He let it go when I whirled around. “Sorry,” he said. He handed me back the cash I’d left on the table. “I got it. Can I get your number at least? I’d like to see you again, or if you ever need someone to show you around town.” Words were tumbling out of his mouth too quickly for him to keep up with.
A personal rule I have is that you never give the first nice thing that comes your way a shot. At least wait and see what your options are before diving headfirst into anything.
But clearly, I was turning into quite the rebel today.
“Yeah,” I said breathlessly. I watched the color slowly leak from the sky as I rattled off my number to him. It felt like ages for him to type those ten little digits into his phone. I forced a smile as he shot me a text with his info. “I’ll talk to you later.” I was out the door before he could get another word in, sprinting for my car.
Dark was not far off as I rolled through the wrought iron gates and up the drive. The sky had lost most of its color, turning a sickly gray between the muddied pink clouds. I let out a sigh of relief. I had plenty of time to spare. What was I so worried about?
Before I even opened the door I felt it. The awareness of being watched. I hesitated, looking through the windshield for any sign of who might be looking back at me. As the sky darkened further, I felt a prickling sensation on the back of my neck. It took everything in me to exit the car slowly and not sprint into the house. Whatever paranoia was trying to take root inside my body would not win. Grandma Macky wouldnotscare me off with her stupid rules.
I slammed the car door shut and step by step, made my way up to the shadowy entrance. By the time I had locked the front door behind me, it was completely dark outside. White fog was pooling from the forest and slowly creeping toward the house.
I let out a slow, shaky breath and flipped on the porch light. Inside, the pressure of being watched was less intense, like I was safe inside the house.Safer, the thought skulked in. I turned away from the window, taking in the yawning expanse of the shadowy foyer. I’d hadn’t turned any of the lights on before leaving, not having planned on staying in town so late. The dark sprawl of the silent manor was overwhelming.
I flipped a lamp on in the hallway, then moved to the living room and kitchen. The warmth of electric light lifted a little of the weight from my shoulders as it chased away the shadows. I poured a glass of wine before flipping on the tv in the living room. Alcohol wouldn’t fix my paranoia but it would help dull the burning of my nerves. I poured a second glass after downing the first.
I didn’t remember dozing off. I couldn’t say what woke me, just that I was passed out one minute and sitting bolt upright the next, straining to hear whatever sound may have stirred me. An alien chasing crew members on a spaceship flashed across the tv screen. I turned it down just as the creature jumped on one of the men, its long tongue shooting out to wrap around his throat.
At what point had horror become my comfort? There was nothing I enjoyed about the gore and violence that often came with it. Maybe it was the controlled dose of fear, the knowledge that the horror always ended when the movie or book did. Or maybe it was the adrenaline, the chill of it in my blood leaving me wide awake, ready for anything.
I flicked through the channels until a children’s cartoon popped up. Now was as good of a time as any to change my demented habits. I was easing back down against the pillow when I heard a soft swish of fabric from the depths of the house.
What was that?
I padded into the kitchen and cocked my head to listen. Outside the darkness still held its ominous shape. Maybe it wasthe wind I had heard. Until it came again, this time from the back hallway. I headed towards the sound, stopping short as I came face to face with myself. One of the sheets I’d placed earlier in the morning had fallen from the hallway mirror. My pulse skittered as I realized where the first sound must have come from. I backtracked to the bathroom set off the living room – that mirror was uncovered too.
I tucked the corners of the material back around the frame. A mirror revealing itself wasn’t the scariest thing in the world.Wait, why would I think that? A mirror revealing itself?
