Time and Again
When Emma Finch found the perfect house in the heart of Bucks County Pennsylvania, it seemed like she couldn't wait to sell her New York loft and head south. She pulled her gleaming little black Mercedes into the gravely driveway and eyed the two-story house that painted a cheery yellow.
She smiled prettily and reached into her leather purse and pulled out an envelope that held a set of keys that the old owner had sent her. She climbed the porch and slipped off her painful black ice-pick heels and reduced her height to a non-intimidating 5'3.
She fitted the keys into the front door that was a little scarred from time and pushed it open. Her breath caught in her slender alabaster color throat. It was more 1950's 'Better Homes' magazine then she had imagined.
Wandering through the house, she touched everything. The old owner had actually left fresh towels and little bars of lavender soap. "Must be nice people," She murmured to herself as she ran her manicured fingers over the peaches-and-cream cotton. But she couldn't ignore the little nagging thought in the back of her brain telling her that maybe the family had left in a hurry, slowly, she began to unpack all of her things.
She found herself in the kitchen that was lined with marble gray counter tops and chestnut cabinets. The walls were painted the same buttery yellow of the exterior of the house. Her smile was slow as she gazed out the window at rows and rows of corn.
Out of the corner of her doe brown eyes, she saw two lean men wandering around outside the cornfield. She was alarmed before she reminded herself that she wasn't in New York anymore, and that everyone was not coming to kill you in your sleep.
She leaned against the counter and watched them for a while. One of them, the taller one, turned and walked off a bit, but the other continued to trek forwards towards the house. Every scary movie she had seen began flashing in her mind when the crazy pig farmer killed the pretty young girl. She pulled her chin-length champagne blonde hair out of its bun and began looking for something as a weapon.
Finding nothing, she decided to make use of the self-defense courses her brother Chance had almost forced upon her after the invasion. She shook her head; she didn't like to think about it much. The front door creaked open a little bit and she saw the shadow cast on the floor. Telling herself not to panic, she drummed her black ruby colored nails on the banister and waited.
Merrill Hess walked slowly into the house and his blueberry and cream eyes darted around a corner, he could have sworn he saw the new owner in the kitchen. From what he saw, she was a young pretty thing, she couldn't have been much younger then him, though the sharp black suit she dressed in seemed to add years to her.
He ventured farther into the house, standing wearily in the pallor while he looked around. There wasn't a sound in the house, but the shoes that probably cost more then he could ever make in his life, lay strewn on the hardwood floor. The windows glittered like diamonds, and in their reflection, he saw a young woman with petal pink lips standing on the stairway.
She leaped at him. Though her mere 110 pounds would have felt like a feather to him, the shock knocked him flat on his back with her on him. He wrapped his farm-tanned arms around her to try to lift her off him and she fought like a wild cat. Her long nails lashed out and bit into him skin until he was able to wiggle out from under her.
She jumped back as he did and they eyed each other with mutual contempt as he nursed his wounds. Even spitting mad, she was a pretty thing. Her skin had a rose flush, which made her skin look hot, and tempting, her lips were slightly parted and glossy, nervously she rubbed them together and demanded. "Who the hell are you?"
Merrill rubbed at the raw skin and looked at her from under his long black lashes. "I'm Merrill Hess you psycho" He said angrily. Before he knew what had happened, Emma was on him again and slicing away at him. Just before she had effectively cut him into ribbons, Graham walked in. He had changed out of his church clothes and traded them for a worn blue plaid shirt and jeans.
He yanked Merrill away from her and looked suspiciously at the blood that was oozing out of his brother's face. Before Emma could leap on Graham as well, he offered her a charming smile and held out a hand. "Hello, I'm father Graham Hess, you have just bought this house yes?" Emma nervously played with her amethyst necklace and eyed Graham as she decided to trust him.
"Yeah. I'm Emma Finch, I just moved here from New York," She said. "That would explain it," Merrill said bitterly under his breath as he squeezed at his bleeding right hand. Emma and Graham cast annoyed looks at him and he shut up. "I apologize, Miss Finch, my brother has no tact". Emma smiled and looked a little sadly at Merrill.
"I'm sorry about all that, I'm still a little shaky after-well you know. Can I get ya'll something to drink or anything" Merrill shrugged a broad shoulder. "Whatever you have" She disappeared in the kitchen and returned with 3 nostalgic looking polished emerald Coke bottles filled with the reddish-brown liquid. She handed them the bottles and popped them open with a bottle opener.
"So," She said as she took the first bubbling sip. "Who used to live here?" Graham tilted the bottle to his lips but did not drink yet. "Ray Reddy, he was a veterinarian" Emma looked at them above her bottle. "Used to be? What happened to him?" Merrill and Graham exchanged glances. "He died"
When Emma Finch found the perfect house in the heart of Bucks County Pennsylvania, it seemed like she couldn't wait to sell her New York loft and head south. She pulled her gleaming little black Mercedes into the gravely driveway and eyed the two-story house that painted a cheery yellow.
She smiled prettily and reached into her leather purse and pulled out an envelope that held a set of keys that the old owner had sent her. She climbed the porch and slipped off her painful black ice-pick heels and reduced her height to a non-intimidating 5'3.
She fitted the keys into the front door that was a little scarred from time and pushed it open. Her breath caught in her slender alabaster color throat. It was more 1950's 'Better Homes' magazine then she had imagined.
Wandering through the house, she touched everything. The old owner had actually left fresh towels and little bars of lavender soap. "Must be nice people," She murmured to herself as she ran her manicured fingers over the peaches-and-cream cotton. But she couldn't ignore the little nagging thought in the back of her brain telling her that maybe the family had left in a hurry, slowly, she began to unpack all of her things.
She found herself in the kitchen that was lined with marble gray counter tops and chestnut cabinets. The walls were painted the same buttery yellow of the exterior of the house. Her smile was slow as she gazed out the window at rows and rows of corn.
Out of the corner of her doe brown eyes, she saw two lean men wandering around outside the cornfield. She was alarmed before she reminded herself that she wasn't in New York anymore, and that everyone was not coming to kill you in your sleep.
She leaned against the counter and watched them for a while. One of them, the taller one, turned and walked off a bit, but the other continued to trek forwards towards the house. Every scary movie she had seen began flashing in her mind when the crazy pig farmer killed the pretty young girl. She pulled her chin-length champagne blonde hair out of its bun and began looking for something as a weapon.
Finding nothing, she decided to make use of the self-defense courses her brother Chance had almost forced upon her after the invasion. She shook her head; she didn't like to think about it much. The front door creaked open a little bit and she saw the shadow cast on the floor. Telling herself not to panic, she drummed her black ruby colored nails on the banister and waited.
Merrill Hess walked slowly into the house and his blueberry and cream eyes darted around a corner, he could have sworn he saw the new owner in the kitchen. From what he saw, she was a young pretty thing, she couldn't have been much younger then him, though the sharp black suit she dressed in seemed to add years to her.
He ventured farther into the house, standing wearily in the pallor while he looked around. There wasn't a sound in the house, but the shoes that probably cost more then he could ever make in his life, lay strewn on the hardwood floor. The windows glittered like diamonds, and in their reflection, he saw a young woman with petal pink lips standing on the stairway.
She leaped at him. Though her mere 110 pounds would have felt like a feather to him, the shock knocked him flat on his back with her on him. He wrapped his farm-tanned arms around her to try to lift her off him and she fought like a wild cat. Her long nails lashed out and bit into him skin until he was able to wiggle out from under her.
She jumped back as he did and they eyed each other with mutual contempt as he nursed his wounds. Even spitting mad, she was a pretty thing. Her skin had a rose flush, which made her skin look hot, and tempting, her lips were slightly parted and glossy, nervously she rubbed them together and demanded. "Who the hell are you?"
Merrill rubbed at the raw skin and looked at her from under his long black lashes. "I'm Merrill Hess you psycho" He said angrily. Before he knew what had happened, Emma was on him again and slicing away at him. Just before she had effectively cut him into ribbons, Graham walked in. He had changed out of his church clothes and traded them for a worn blue plaid shirt and jeans.
He yanked Merrill away from her and looked suspiciously at the blood that was oozing out of his brother's face. Before Emma could leap on Graham as well, he offered her a charming smile and held out a hand. "Hello, I'm father Graham Hess, you have just bought this house yes?" Emma nervously played with her amethyst necklace and eyed Graham as she decided to trust him.
"Yeah. I'm Emma Finch, I just moved here from New York," She said. "That would explain it," Merrill said bitterly under his breath as he squeezed at his bleeding right hand. Emma and Graham cast annoyed looks at him and he shut up. "I apologize, Miss Finch, my brother has no tact". Emma smiled and looked a little sadly at Merrill.
"I'm sorry about all that, I'm still a little shaky after-well you know. Can I get ya'll something to drink or anything" Merrill shrugged a broad shoulder. "Whatever you have" She disappeared in the kitchen and returned with 3 nostalgic looking polished emerald Coke bottles filled with the reddish-brown liquid. She handed them the bottles and popped them open with a bottle opener.
"So," She said as she took the first bubbling sip. "Who used to live here?" Graham tilted the bottle to his lips but did not drink yet. "Ray Reddy, he was a veterinarian" Emma looked at them above her bottle. "Used to be? What happened to him?" Merrill and Graham exchanged glances. "He died"