There was the beautiful old house, covered in ivy and dust. They'd been meaning to go and have a look around for a while, but they had only got around to it that day... and there it was. Those horrible, blank stone eyes staring at her, She heard a shout and glance over the statue's shoulder to see John running toward her, screaming her name... but he had been to late.
Chapter One
The young woman made her way cautiously up the bedraggled garden path. She could barely see the ground among the weeds and rubbish that cluttered the whole garden, but she could hear it crunching beneath her feet. The garden – or jungle, really, the state it was in – seemed to go on forever, and she'd long since lost the comforting gas lamp's glow to light her way. She picked up the bottom of her skirts just in case there was something apart from weeds on the ground – it wouldn't do to be interviewed in a supposedly respectable house looking like she'd walked through – well, their garden. That sort of thing wasn't accepted in this day and age. Unexpectedly, she cleared the horror of the shrubbery to find the house looming over her. She almost wished she hadn't.
The house was straight out of a ghost story. It looked as if there had been a fire there at some point, all black and grey. No lights shone from the windows and no noise came from within. The young woman reached into her bag to check the advertisement – yes, this was the right address. She hesitated on the verge of the garden jungle and then walked firmly up to the front door. There was no bell, and no one answered her knock. She glanced around as she waited and noticed a scrap of paper floating on the wind. She snatched it up and unfolded it to see minute writing.
"To Miss J. Flint. I suggest you just come in, the door is unlocked."
"Miss J. Flint..." She whispered. She was going to have to get used to that name, she supposed, no going back now. She placed the note in her bag and returned to the door.
There wasn't even a door handle that she could see, and it didn't open when she just pushed. This wasn't her only chance of work, so why didn't she just leave? But that felt like giving on, something she wasn't very good at. She ran a hand over the door, reached to the top of the frame and the bottom... nothing. She checked the sides of door – hinged on the left. She sighed and reached inside her bag for something she shouldn't have had, couldn't have had and slotted it down the right hand side of the door. She heard a click, and the door opened silently, which was somehow more frightening than it creaking like its surroundings suggested it would.
She stepped through the door and glanced around furtively. There weren't any statures here, thank God, just cobwebs covering everything. If she did get this job, it was going to take her weeks just to tidy the place up!
