Page 7 of The Midnight Order
I’m going to find out what’s wrong in this town and what happened to my aunt.
She was technically the last family I had left; I owe it to her. Not that I have any memories to confirm that, but that’s another story.
Once I’m back home, I check each living space until I find a red phone, much like the one in my hand, mounted on the wall by the back door. There’s a notepad hanging below it, and a stoolsits off to the right as if this is where Aunt Soliel took all her phone calls.
I sit on the stool, thinking of all the times I couldn’t be bothered to speak to her. I’d usually screen her call and let it ring to voicemail. The times I picked up, accidentally, I would rush her off, lying and saying I had too much work or was too busy to entertain her.
My life was fast, and slowing down meant death. Or so I thought.
Now that I’m slowed to a crawl, however, I find that this life might have its perks.
There’s usually an undercurrent of latent anxiety harrowing through me, knotted in my chest and ready to strike at a moment’s notice if it senses weakness.
Currently, it’s absent.
I don’t know if that’s because I’ve slowed down or I’m focusing my brainpower elsewhere, but I’m thankful for the reprieve.
I use the house phone to check my messages, find none from work, and settle even more. The only calls I missed were from the contractors I had called to inspect the place on the way here.
Judging by my foot-sized hole in the porch, that’s still necessary.
I call one man back, who sounded the least chipper. The ones that sound happy are the ones that’ll try to sell you water when it’s raining.
He agrees to come out tomorrow for an estimate but tells me he might have to bring in other companies for the job, which isn’t surprising given the amount of work that needs to be done.
It’s mid-afternoon when I get bored with boxing up Soliel’s things and decide to go for a run.
Part of me recalls Karen saying something about Aunt Soliel living too close to something or someone, but I shove the worryto the back of my head, deciding to use this time to clear my thoughts instead of giving them power.
Chapter 3
Silver
Rock blaststhrough my AirPods as my feet pound the gravel. I started running last year to clear my head and keep my anxiety in check. By the second mile, I knew this was the right choice. My muscles and lungs are burning, and I foresee exhaustion calling my name later, which means I’ll sleep well.
I ran to the end of my drive toward the highway, but I found a well-beaten trail off to the right before I got there. Deciding it was safer than the highway, I took it.
So far, it hasn’t ended, which is good because I’m nowhere near ready to stop running.
The sun is out, and the temperature has finally reached a beautiful seventy-five. My mind is clear as music and adrenaline keeps it that way. And for a moment, I consider running until my muscles give out.
There’s a clearing up ahead, and I’m curious to see what’s beyond until I’m actually there.
I stop and let my eyes wander over a stately manor behind a Gothic-looking fence with the ugliest grotesques on top of its pillars at the gate.
If it were any other building, it would be an attraction, but this place… This placefeelscold and uninviting, even in the afternoon sun.
It’s as if the building has a sentience that screams at you torun.
Suddenly, I wonder if this was where Karen mentioned Aunt Soliel was living too close to. Movement in an upstairs window startles me, and I snap my eyes upward.
The curtain is moving, but there’s no one there.
My stomach stiffens, and I turn back for the comfort of the woods as I take off at a run.
Even though I know it’s probably all in my head, I feel like someone is on my heels.
Gaining my nerve, I whip my head around, still running but glancing back, just in case.
