I was asked to put my 'don't read this late at night' warning at the front of the chapter and not the end (fair enough), but I don't think this chapter is as scary as the previous two (if at all), but I've been reading weird things all day, so my radar may be a little off.

On a related note: god damn you, Junji Ito, and your brilliant creepy-ass writing. I didn't plan to spend my whole day reading, but then you came along with your spiral curse and you people shaped holes in mountains...


Uncle

Go away, go away, don't you come back any more!
Go away, go away, and please don't slam the door...

- Antigonish

Marianne was in near hysterics when she arrived at her brothers flat, all the colour drained from her face, eyes red rimmed and lips dry from crying. Being the kind of brother he was, Francis immediately kicked out the girl he had picked up in the bar, pulled his sister inside and put the kettle on, shifting his piles of papers from the kitchen chairs and tables. When she didn't speak right away, just staring at the teacup in her hands, he pulled out some of the leftover pastries from the fridge, warming them up on the hob.

"Francis," she said finally, hardly above a whisper "I'm starting to rethink the wedding."

He looked around, seeing her still stare at her hands. With a horrid knot building in his stomach, he sat at the table with her.

"Did something happen?" he asked "Did he cheat?"

"No, nothing like that." she confessed, shaking her head lightly "I'm just... so very frightened..."

"Frightened?" he asked seriously "Of Arthur? Did he do something to you? Did he threaten you?!"

Hearing his voice raise, she finally looked up, somewhat surprised. She smiled in that gentle way of hers, shaking her head again.

"He wouldn't do that." she assured him "Never."

"Then what's got you scared?" Francis asked "I never took you for one to get cold feet."

She laughed, half derisively, shaking her head again. She looked all around as if trying to find the words, shaking her head over and over.

"Francis," she started "Francis, please don't find me silly, but... do you... believe in ghosts?"

"Ghosts?" he clarified, sitting back in his chair "I suppose. Anything's possible."

"I didn't used to believe." she confessed "Ghosts, spirits, faeries, goblins... I never thought any of it was real, just old stories told by people who didn't understand the world, but..."

She sighed deeply, shaking her head yet again.

"I saw something." she told him "Something I couldn't explain. You know that old doll house I inherited from grand-mama?"

Francis nodded.

"Well, the furniture stared moving about inside. I thought it was Arthur playing with it – you know how he likes these old things – but then I saw that little rocking chair going back and forth all on its own, and I saw these odd tiny footprints like someone had been walking around in muddy shoes. All of a sudden I felt... very scared. Like I was being watched, like a predator was waiting for me to turn my back so it could pounce..."

Confused and concerned, Francis leaned forward again, listening intently. Marianne laced her fingers tightly as her hands started to shake.

"I told Arthur about it... I thought he would laugh... but he didn't. He called his friends – that strange goth boy and the Norwegian girl with the broken face – and they did... something. I heard such strange things, saw such strange things..."

Seeing her physically start to shake, Francis took his sisters hand, holding it tightly. She looked at with with eyes full of gratitude, but also pleading.

"Arthur told me that his family was full of spiritualists, but I thought he meant... I don't know, priests, deeply religious people, harmless eccentric kook's with crystals and dream catchers, but now that I've seen it myself... It's horrible, Francis, like something out of one of those awful movies! I don't know if I can live my life surrounded by stuff like that."

Francis didn't know what to say – he didn't really believe in stuff like ghosts and spirits, but he believed in his sister, and he believed she really was scared. What kind of weird stuff was the freak Arthur trying to get his sister involved with?

"It's alright." he assured her, squeezing her hand "It's not like anyone's holding a gun to your back – you can still walk away. If you're honestly scared, it's best to walk away before the wedding – it'll be so much harder after."

"It's already next to impossible." she told him "We've be planning our life together for so long, imagining the future without him..."

She sighed, expression softening.

"Besides, I can't raise a baby on my own."

"Baby?!" Francis declared, nearly choking "You're pregnant?!"

"That's why we moved the wedding up a few months: we want to be married before he's born."

"Marianne..."

She chuckled a little, patting his hand.

"I know you and Arthur don't get along, but I hoped you would at least say 'congratulations.'"

"I'm sorry. Of course! Congratulations!"

Francis got up, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Normally he would have jumped for joy at the happy news, but his mind was still puzzling over the previous information. He released her and sat back down, taking her hand again.

"What are you going to do?" he asked seriously "If his family and all his friends are like this, then it's not something that just going to go away."

She sighed through her nose.

"I don't know." she admitted "I love him so much, but I'm so frightened... there must be a way to make this work..."


He should have convinced her to leave him. He should have said he would help take care of the baby, that that man wasn't worth all the stress and fear he would cause her over the years. That weird man and his strange friends and their freakish ways... the only good thing that came out of their marriage was those children. Francis had still never seen a ghost or spirit himself, but he had seen how terrified his sister had been, how she started jumping at shadows and strange noises. He should have been more protective, more observant, around more. He should have done a lot of things, back when his sister was alive. It was too late now.

Too late for Marianne, but Francis was going to be damned if he let the Kirklands strangeness kill Alfred and Madeline as well. He would never forget the day of Marianne's funeral, for more reasons than the obvious: that man looked so pale and withdrawn, like it hadn't been all his fault in the first place. Poor Alfred looked so lost, and Madeline was so confused... Francis felt like he was going to punch him right in his face, if not for his friends holding him back.

He couldn't stand to see his precious niece and nephew surrounded by those people and their strangeness, being enveloped by them, drawn away from him and into that world, into the place that killed their mother. Then that man had the nerve to go and disappear, move away and leave Francis no way of getting in touch with him, taking those children beyond his reach.

When Alfred's school called him, saying the child was sleep deprived and refusing to go home, worried about the strange bruises on his arm and his near hysterical panic at the final bell, he rushed straight down there, running any red lights that came his way. Practically running to the office where Alfred was waiting, Francis could see why the school was concerned: the usually hyperactive child looked like a shadow of his normal self, pale and withdrawn.

Just like his mother had towards the end.

"Alfred!" he called, not even realising himself exactly how much he had missed the tyke until that moment.

Spotting him, the child looked like his saviour had arrived from heaven, jumping up from the plastic chair and running into his arms, almost knocking him over.

"Francis!" he cried "Don't make me go back to that house!"

"Hey, hey, it's alright!" he assured immediately, wrapping an arm around him tightly and stroking his hair "You don't have to go anywhere. You can come home with me."

"Hey."

They looked around, and Francis was immediately irked. The creepy silver-haired doll-girl had matured a little since the last time Francis had seen her, but her complete lack of facial expression was as creepy as ever.

"Luca?" Alfred greeted, confused "What are you doing here?"

"The school called you dad, said something was wrong." she explained in that deadpan manner of hers "He couldn't get off work so he asked me to come and get you. You okay, kiddo?"

"That house is haunted!" he practically yelled "I'm not going back! I'm going to stay with Uncle Francis!"

"Most places are haunted." she replied simply "That's no reason to avoid going anywhere."

Alfred went very stiff, horrified expression on his face. Francis immediately wrapped his arms around him, covering his ears.

"That's enough out of you!" he almost yelled at her "I'm not letting you fill this boys head with your garbage!"

This actually seemed to annoy Luca, as for the first time in all their meetings she pulled an expression.

"Garbage?" she growled.

"That's right, garbage!" he spat "There's no such thing as ghosts! I don't know what's going on in that house or what you freaks are up to, but I won't let you drive these kids crazy!"

He grabbed Alfred by the arm and pulled him down the hall past Luca, who continued to scowl at him.

"Tell Arthur I'll see him in court." he spat.

He suddenly tripped, finding himself landing painfully face first on the ground.

"Francis?" Alfred called in concern, just as surprised as he was "What happened? What was that?"

"Something that doesn't exist." Luca replied coldly.

"You tripped me!" Francis accused.

"Would a broken-faced doll-girl really do such a thing?"

Francis stopped – he had never said those words out loud. Luca looked down at him with those cold blue eyes, almost burning with anger and hatred. She went back to her usual level of expression when she turned to Alfred.

"Why do you say it's haunted?" she asked "What happened?"


Arthur put the last of the books on the trolley, shoulders and back aching from a long day shifting tomes around. University text books could be heavy bastards, and so could university students – if he found one more food wrapper shoved in between books on the shelves or 'hidden' behind the displays he was going to institute a bag search policy on every single on of them. The sticky, half eaten stuff was the worst (seriously, were these people raised by animals?). At least now it was finished, and he could go home and make dinner.

The school had called him about Alfred – hopefully Luca had picked him up by now. The boy had just started screaming in the middle of the night and refused to go back to sleep, practically running as fast as his legs would carry him to school come morning. What on earth had happened? He was going to get to the bottom of it when he got home. If it was a haunting, then it was a very concerning one – there was no spirit Arthur couldn't see, no ghost that he couldn't communicate with. Who or what was this one that it was able to hide itself from him? Luca's notes from her visit had mentioned a remnant, but such a thing shouldn't have bothered Alfred, especially after she had cleansed it.

"Arthur." a little voice called.

He looked around. A pixie floated at the door, glowing unhappily.

"What is it?" he asked.

"There's someone here." she told him "They've come to see you."

"Someone bad?"

She 'hmm'ed seriously, looking at the door warily.

"I can't tell." she admitted "But his being here's not a good thing."

"I see." he replied "Okay, I'll deal with it."

Straightening his tie, he grabbed his coat and bag and headed for the locked door, ready for whoever stood there. A large man in a cheap suit waited under the foyer, hiding from the heavy rain. He looked up at the sky the way people do when wondering when the rain would stop, looking over as Arthur locked up.

"Mr Kirkland?" he enquired.

"Speaking." he confirmed "I'm afraid the library is closed: you'll have to come back tomorrow."

"I'm not here for a book." he confessed "My name is Ivan Braginski, I'm from Child Protective Services."

Those three words were enough to make him stop in his tracks, turning to him seriously as he pulled on his coat.

"I don't know what Francis has told you, but it's all lies." he said immediately "I can assure you that my children are very well taken care of."

The man examined him with cold eyes, staring at him like he was looking into his soul.

"I don't know who Francis is." he said "But your sons school seems to think you may be having some problems."

"His school?!" Arthur yelled, almost losing his temper completely "The first time I have ever gotten a call from them was today, and they've already called social services on me?! Maybe if they spent more time teaching and less time sticking their nose in, my sons grades would improve!"

Mr. Braginski seemed unfazed by his outburst, hands calmly placed on the top of his umbrella.

"I understand you lost your wife recently." he went on "And you've shown up to Alfred's school drunk a few times. Now he has strange bruises and is refusing to go home. I'm sure you understand that the school is trained to notice such patterns."

"I don't know anything about any bruises!" Arthur argued "But if someone has hurt him, you better believe I'm going to get to the bottom of it. If you'll excuse me, I have to go home and make dinner."

Arthur went to walk past him, but the big man stood in his way, physically stopping him. He was more than a little intimidating.

"Often, families don't realise they're having difficulties until it's too late." he elaborated "I understand you're in mourning, and there are a lot of changes going on in your life right now. I'd rather work with you than against you, Mr Kirkland."

Arthur could feel all the spirits around him tense, like they were ready to pounce on the man. For their sake, Arthur forced himself to remain calm, buttoning his lip for fear of what might come out. After a moment of silence, Mr. Braginski reached inside his coat and pulled out a business card, handing it to him.

"Please call me so we can set up an appointment." he urged "In the meantime, might I recommend that you cut down on the alcohol? For your children sake."

Well, that pissed him off. Still, he held his tongue, shoving the card in his pocket and marching around the man. He was certain that Mr. Braginski continued to watch him as he walked to the university car park, but wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of looking around to make sure. Someone was going to be in deep trouble tonight, but who Arthur had yet to decide.


With Luca fetching Alfred and Arthur working late, Kiku decided he should start on dinner himself. It was probably too late for him to start his own family, but the thought that he made a good wife made him smile. As he chopped the vegetables, he could hear Madeline playing in the living room, talking to herself and laughing. She always did things like that, so he thought nothing of it. Her teacher had said that she seemed a little off today, but perked up again after nap time, so they had both put it down to the move. There certainly seemed to be nothing wrong with her now.

"Madeline!" he called "Come help me shell some peas!"

"Kay!" she yelled back.

A few seconds later she trotted in, put her bear up on the counter and pulled a chair to, climbing up so that she could reach. Kiku gave her a pile of peas and a bowl, putting the sharp knife just out of her reach.

"Who were to talking to?" he asked.

"My friend." she told him as she got to work.

"Oh yeah? Which friend is that?"

"Natalya."

"That's a pretty name." he thought "But I thought her name was Karen?"

"Uncle Kiku, the bears name is Katelyn!" the little girl scolded.

He was pretty sure is had been Karen last week. Although it had been Kitty the week before. Madeline sure did like 'k' names.

"I'm sorry." he chuckled "So Natalya's not the bear?"

"No, Natalya's my friend." she explained "This used to be her house."

"Oh yeah? When was that?"

"A long time ago. She lived here with her dad and her big brother and sister."

"Did she tell you all that? What a nice friend."

"Yeah, she's really pretty too!"

"That's great. You must invite her to dinner some time."

"Can she come today?"

"Not today, sweetie. Wait until we're all moved in first."

"Aww." the child moaned "But she's already here."

"Then you must apologise to her for me. Maybe next time."

Turning around carefully on the chair, Madeline faced the door, steadying herself on the chair back.

"Sorry, Natalya." she said to the air "Uncle Kiku said no."

The phone went in the hall, startling them both a little. Looking at his watch briefly, Kiku made sure the knife was well out of Madeline's reach before going to answer it, wiping his hands on his apron.

"Good evening, Kirkland residence." he greeted as he put the receiver to his ear.

"Kiku, it's Arthur." he heard immediately "Is Alfred home yet?"

"Not yet. Wasn't Luca going to pick him up?"

"She should be back by now." Arthur grumbled.

"Don't fret, I'm sure everything is fine." Kiku reasoned "Do you want me to call her?"

"No, I'll do it." he sighed "How's Madeline? Everything okay there?"

"No complaints." he assured "She even made a new friend."

"Oh yeah? Well, at least that's one good thing. Anyway, I'll be home in about an hour."

"I'll see you then."

With a brief goodbye, he put the phone down. Going back to the kitchen, he spotted that Madeline had wandered off. Where on earth had she gone?

"Madeline?" he called.

He heard her giggle down the hall.

"Madeline, you're supposed to be helping me with the peas." he reminded her.

He walked down the hall, stopping when he felt something wet seep through his slippers. Looking down, he saw little wet footprints leading to the living room.

"What on earth?" he muttered "Madeline, did you go outside barefoot?"

The front door burst open, scaring the living daylights out of him.

"Luca!" he scolded as his heart started beating again "Don't just burst into someone elses house!"

"Who's here?" she demanded, walking straight in with Vlad on her heels (neither of them taking off their shoes).

"Just me and Madeline." he told her "Where's Alfred?"

"It's time you went home, Kiku."

"Don't ignore me."

She did anyway, marching into the living room looking for something. Vlad seemed uncharacteristically serious, looking all about with nary a 'hello'. With an aggravated sigh, Kiku followed Luca.

"About that," he said "You won't get Arthur to pay attention to you by making me leave. You'll just-"

"I don't think you understand." she interrupted.

She pointed to Madeline. Looking over, he saw the little girl sat on the footstool patiently, humming to herself and fiddling with her bear. Her usual pigtails had been taken out, the bright red ribbons being tied in a bow at the top of her head.

Being tied.

By no-one.

A car passed the house, its headlights illuminating the wall. The shadow of another child stood behind Madeline, disappearing as the light receded. Noticing the adults, she smiled.

"Natalya wanted to do my hair." she told them "Is it cute?"

Kiku was struck dumb. His breath caught. He had seen it.

"Like I said." Luca said sternly "Go home."

He needed no more instruction, darting forward and grabbing Madeline away from it. Where was it now? What did it want?

"Hey!" Madeline protested.

"I'm sorry, sweetie." he apologised, holding her tightly "We have to go now."

"But Daddy and Alfred aren't back yet!" she argued.

"We'll call him in the car. Luca, where is Alfred?"

"With Francis."

"Right."

Kiku went for the door. Had he not been freaking out, he would have noticed the watery footprints follow him, running around him to get to the door first. As he reached it, it slammed shut. He backed away, still holding Madeline tightly. Was is there? The door started to rattle violently, opening and slamming closed as if caught in an argument. Vlad pulled Kiku back further, positioning himself between them and the door.

After a moment, the door stopped moving. It creaked back open, almost apologetically. Little footsteps stomped away angrily, past them and up the stairs, up into the walls of the house, disappearing and echoing away. Vlad was noticeably tense.

"Best you get going." he told Kiku "Before the big one changes her mind."

"The big one?" he breathed.

Vlad just nodded, keeping his eyes on something Kiku couldn't see. There was an almighty crash in the kitchen. Something slammed up in Alfred's room. Kiku bolted for the door, grabbing his shoes as he ran.


"Think they're sisters?" Vlad postured, keeping his eyes on the older girl.

"Looks like it." Luca agreed "All I know is that they weren't here the other day."

"Maybe." Vlad conceded "This doesn't feel like a normal haunting."

The elder sister held the door open, watching them right back. She had short hair and was kind of plain looking, clearly budding into adolescence. Her blue dungarees and white shirt were tattered, her pale skin covered in cuts and bruises.

"Fits the remnant I saw." Luca concluded "Then again, looks a little too old."

"Maybe the little sister was in the cupboard."

"The real question is, where were they hiding? Why didn't Arthur see them?"

The girl let go of the door. It immediately slammed closed. She started walking towards them, movements stilted and juddering like she was walking on broken legs. She opened her mouth and started to cry silently, blood pouring from her eyes. A shrill, inhuman screech resonated through the house, coming not from her, but from the walls, from the very core of the house.

Vlad grabbed his iron cross, Luca pulling her vial from her purse. Troll leapt into the fray, slamming his hand over the door.

"Never mind where they've been." Luca growled "It's time to move them on."


Alfred felt calmer. He was even starting to think he had imagined the whole thing. Sure, Luca had been oddly serious about the whole thing, but there was no such things as ghosts, right? It was a dream. It had to be a dream.

A damn realistic dream... but these things do happen, every now and then. He had read a study about it once and everything! As for the weird bruise on his arm... well, maybe he had done that to himself, somehow. He was flailing about in his sleep and hit himself very hard on something. That made sense. It all made sense, he just had to convince his subconscious.

Francis had taken him out to dinner to help him calm down – it had worked too: he felt calmer, more normal. That's why he could dismiss the whole thing. He would stay with uncle Francis tonight, get a good nights sleep and everything would be clearer in the morning. His dad would probably laugh at him for getting so hysterical. It was probably just a manifestation of a stress response, something buried deep in his psyche.

He finished washing his face in the restaurant sink, wiping it dry with a hand towel. As he looked up, he saw a boy standing in the bathroom behind him. He was just leant against the wall, watching him. That was weird enough, but he was clearly badly beaten up, and recently to boot. Startled by his appearance, Alfred turn around.

No-one there.

He turned back to the mirror. The boy smiled at him.

He turned around again.

No-one there.

He dare not look back at the mirror – even in the corner of his eye he could see the boy moving, getting closer.

Just another symptom, just a stress response. He practically sprinted for the bathroom door, nearly knocking the poor waiter over as he ran back to his uncle.


On a serious note, if you've ever left a crisp packet, empty drink container or half eaten anything in a shop, library or any place other than the bin and you expect someone else to pick it up I am coming for you and I will make you suffer. Working in retail is hard enough without having to clean up after disgusting people. I once found a half eaten sandwich shoved in the middle of a stack of towels. Just ask for a bin, we'll let you use it.

As for the story - as mentioned, I don't think this chapter was as scary. I'll try to ramp up the scares for the next chapter, though. You have been warned ~

As always, all reviews welcome!