The door to the old house creaked open, swinging inward on hinges caked with years of dust. Though the sunlight was wan thanks to the cloud cover, it was far brighter than the abandoned structure had seen in ages. Silhouetted in the doorway, five children stood peering into the gloom. The oldest, Nathaniel, was 13. Robert, his best friend, was 11, as was Ricky. Robert's sister Anabelle was a year younger than them and determined to keep up with the boys. Then there was Lydia, Robert and Anabelle's little sister. She was six years old and tagging along only because their mother wanted them to stay together while she was working.
"Well, come on," Nathaniel urged. He glanced down the street both ways, then motioned the other kids in.
Robert crossed the threshold of the weathered old house first. Ricky was next, then Anabelle. She paused just inside to make sure her sister was following. Seeing the little girl still standing on the porch, she huffed an impatient sigh.
"Come on, Lydia! We're gonna get in trouble if somebody sees us!"
Nathaniel waved her to silence, then crouched down so he could see the younger child's big green eyes. "It's okay. You can stay out here if you want. All by yourself."
Lydia's lashes flared even wider and her brows went up. "Nooo! You can't leave me!" She looked to her sister accusingly. "Mommy said you have to stay with me!"
"Well, I'm going inside," said Anabelle. "If you want to stay with me, you have to come in."
Lydia didn't want to go inside the spooky house. She could see dusty cobwebs and the central hall light had fallen from the ceiling, shattered on the floor so long ago that it, too, was covered in ashen dust. But she wanted to stay out on the porch alone even less. An encouraging smile from Nathaniel helped, but he finally won her over by offering a hand to her. A smile bloomed on her round face and she slipped her hand into his. They entered the house together, following after Anabelle.
Nathaniel pushed the door nearly shut behind them, leaving it open just enough to allow some of the weak daylight into the entry hall. The floor was gritty under their shoes and the air smelled stale and sour from being shut up for so long. Lydia held tight to Nathaniel's hand as she skirted around the broken light on the floor.
Further ahead, the hallway split in two directions, with a dust-covered flight of stairs directly in front of them at the end of the hall. The corridor to the left was dimly lit by indirect sunlight coming from the room to the next left. The right hall was pitch black. The stairs ascended straight up to a landing that was lit by a single, round window high above.
The dust stirred up by their footsteps made Ricky sneeze, startling all of the kids. They giggled nervously.
"Which way do you want to explore?" Nathaniel put to the group.
"Up?" Anabelle suggested. "I want to see the playroom."
She didn't like the looks of the dark hallway to her right and she suspected the better-lit one led to a kitchen. She'd seen enough kitchens in the other abandoned houses to know she didn't want to see that one. If they weren't moldy and infested with nasty critters, they were torn apart by looters scavenging for food.
When no one objected to her vote, Nathaniel motioned for her to lead them up. Ordinarily he would take the lead, but he was still saddled with Lydia.
Anabelle headed over to the staircase and put her hand on the newel post as she looked up the dusty flight. The urn-shaped post cap was loose and almost fell off when she let go of it. She put a foot on the first step and felt a creepy sense of foreboding. Usually, excursions like this excited her. The other times, she felt like an adventurer exploring tombs of yore. This time, she just felt uneasy.
She looked back and took a breath to tell her friends of her misgivings, then hesitated. She couldn't find the words to explain what she was feeling and she knew the boys would just tease her for being scared if she couldn't articulate any valid concerns. So, she simply flashed a smile.
"Last one up is a 'fraidy cat," she said, to be sure they wouldn't think she was scared. Then she hurried up the stairs before she could lose her courage.
The steps creaked loudly and echoed their footfalls in a way that made them all sound heavier, more menacing. Even Lydia's soft-soled, well-worn rubber clogs sounded like hobnail jack boots on the old stairs. The landing was a bit better. A thick carpet smothered their steps but released more dust that turned the air hazy. The light from the round window allowed them to see down the long hall before them.
There were three intersecting hallways that interrupted the main one that stretched before them. Framed paintings lined the walls, but there were no visible doors. There was just the long, dark hallway. At the very end they could just make out a boarded up window, thanks to the midday sunlight that squeezed in between the splintery planks.
"The bedrooms must be down the other halls," Robert theorized.
"Jason said the playroom's down the last hall, to the left," said Nathaniel. He reclaimed his hand so he could take the lead down the spooky hallway. "Follow me."
The other children fell in behind him, stirring up more dust as they went. Ricky sneezed, startling the others. The sound echoed strangely down the halls.
"We should have brought a lantern," muttered Anabelle.
"Why?" Robert challenged. "Are you scared?"
"No!" the younger girl defended. "I just like seeing where I'm going is all."
They passed the first bisecting hall, each child looking this way and that. Each saw what the other did: Darkness. There were no windows, boarded or otherwise, to cut through the shadows. They couldn't even make out the outline of doors. Suddenly Robert didn't find Anabelle's wish for a lantern quite so silly. He didn't say as much, though, not wanting to appear cowardly.
When they reached the second hall, the kids felt a cold draft blowing across the floor. It came from the darkened right-hand passage and smelled musty. Like the last hallway, this one was pitch black on both sides.
"Pee-yoo!" exclaimed Lydia, holding her nose.
"It's not that bad," Anabelle scoffed.
"Is so," said Lydia around her held nose.
"Why's it so cold here?" wondered Ricky.
"Broken window somewhere," dismissed Nathaniel without slowing. He didn't care about musty breezes. He wanted to see the fabled playroom.
The older boy, Jason, had told him about the room and how it held all kinds of toys and diversions: Comics and board games, even a record player. It was Nathaniel's plan to grab that record player and take it home with him. If it actually worked like Jason claimed, it would work if he plugged it in back at the village. He had a few records he'd scavenged over the past months, but the tavern wouldn't let him put them in the jukebox because he wasn't old enough to hang out there. Grown-ups really pissed him off sometimes.
They reached the last hall, where Nathaniel called a halt so he could check both halls. He remembered Jason saying it was the third, to the left, but he suddenly found himself unsure as to whether that meant they should go left here or if the room was on the left side of whatever end of the hall it was on. He decided it meant they should go left, so he headed that way, raising his hand to indicate the others should follow him.
That way was no less dark than any of the other halls they had passed. Just a few steps in, it became impossible to see what lay ahead.
"Shit!" he swore, then remembered Lydia was with them. "Don't repeat that, Lyds."
He waited for her to respond and when she didn't, he glanced back to make sure the little girl wasn't too scared. Only, when he looked back toward the dimly lit hall behind him, there was no one there.
Nathaniel was alone.
His surprise at being abandoned by his friends quickly turned to anger. "Hey, you guys! Not funny!"
He backtracked down the hall. It felt like he had to walk quite a bit further to get back to the main corridor. Stepping out, he glared around, ready to give his companions a piece of his mind for the prank. Except that they weren't out there either.
That was really strange. He was sure he would have heard it if they had run away and the way back was too far for them to get to without running. It was like they vanished.
He looked across the hall, toward the other end of the dark corridor he had just emerged from. Had they ducked down there? They could easily be hiding in the deep shadows there. His irritation renewed and he headed that way, stirring up a cloud of dust.
"Come out, guys," he insisted. Then, to ensure at least one of them would respond, he added: "There's probably spiders and stuff living in the dark places. You don't want spiders to crawl in your ears, do you?"
He expected Lydia at the very least to come bolting out of the shadowed hallway, but only silence answered him. The boy got the distinct impression he was the only living thing in the house. That scared him.
"Fine," he said, injecting attitude into his words to cover his fear. "If you're going to be that way, I'm leaving."
He started back toward the stairs, expecting someone to call to him. They would laugh and apologize; he would bawl them out for a bit, then maybe if they were sorry enough, he might show them to the playroom. But he made it all the way back to the landing without a single peep from the other kids.
He went down a few steps and paused to look back. He felt weird just leaving without his friends. But, he reasoned, they had most likely already left. Why they would do such a thing was beyond him, but he could rationalize no one other reason for their not being there. Unless something in the house had gotten them.
The thought spurred him into motion, and he hurried the rest of the way down the stairs. He tried to tell himself that there wasn't anything to be afraid of. His friends were just big jerks and were having fun at his expense for his leading them into this dark, creepy place. It would serve them all right if he never spoke to any of them ever again.
—
Author's Note:
Welcome to the new world, where kids are kids and old houses are deadly. This chapter was largely inspired by urban explorers of ghost towns and British horror films like The Lodgers. The kids are all named after horror movie personalities: Characters, actors, special FX artists. Lydia in specific is an homage to Beetlejuice and the book Ghost House by Clare McNally. I've been taking in a lot foreign horror films lately. I broke my right ring finger, so I can only write so much at a time. I would take a break but this is my hobby and the way I like to decompress from my hectic life (which is cram-packed full of fun stuff that keeps me going 18 hours a day). If I couldn't write, I'd probably dictate to someone who could.
So, how does this plot twist tie into what's happened so far? You'll have to tune in next time to find out.