Chapter Two
I jumped up from the chair and pushed the table out of my way, spilling hot Earl Gray everywhere. The house went silent and I shook. My mind raced through thoughts of what could have just happened. There was a scream, and a bang. I prayed to myself that my uncle had just shot a bird and did a battle cry whilst doing so. Anything but what probably was.
And there my uncle stood, his frail body hunched recklessly over a puddle of blood. There was no body, and he was not the one that had been shot. There was just a pool of red liquid laying on the floor, and a black revolver in my uncles hands. I inched toward him and helped him move to his bed. He mumbled a few words that were compeltely inaudible. He kept shaking out words, grabbing at my shirt and trembing. I pulled the covers up and over him slightly, just enough to keep him warm. "I can't understand you," I finally said once he had stopped huffing. My uncle stared at me with wide eyes pointing at the blood puddle.
"There's nobody there," I stated. He shoved me and ran to the puddle, pointing and kicking at the air. His foot stopped at a certain point each time, hitting hard against something. I furrowed my brow and walked over to him. "There's nobody there."
My uncle now lay in his bed and I sat next to him in a chair as he fell asleep. Nobody is there. Nobody was there. My uncle is just going insane. I swear it. Though I knew I should probably call the hospital, I didn't. I wanted to clean up the puddle and make sure my uncle was feeling better before I did anything else. Once I heard a small humming from my sleeping uncle I got up from the chair and grabbed some rags and hardwood floor cleaner. I attacked the staining red circle with force. The whole time I was cleaning I couldn't stop wondering what exactly was going on. I could only hope that my uncle was okay and nothing was wrong with him.
"Elliot!" my name was called by my uncle. I dropped the rag and ran to his bed. He wasn't there. I looked down at where his body had left a warm indent in the sheets and my eyes widened. I could feel my body tensing and eyes welling up. In place of where he was sleeping was another pool of blood, and no body. I racked my brain to try and clue in that this could just possibly be another night terror, but it wasn't. I came to that realization after pinching myself multiple times.
I fell forward into the sheets and hugged onto the blood stained pillows. "Fuck!" I forced out multiple swears through my clenched jaw. The blood was still warm and damp, and I knew that it would just be staining my sweater and jeans, but at this point, I really just did not give a damn.
After an hour of being in a break down I forced myself up and off of the bed. He was gone. My uncle was actually gone, and I didn't know where the fuck his body was. I grabbed a knife from his bedside drawer and walked cautiously down the stairs in case somebody was in our house. I made my way to the main telephone and dialed for the police. The line clicked and I heard somebody speak in a rough voice.
"Hello, 911, how may we assist you?"
I felt awkward and scared, and just all around confused. I spoke quietly. "My uncle... he's gone." I sighed, realizing I sounded like an eight year old lost cause. "What do you mean, sir?" the woman replied. I clenched my fist and growled. "Send a fucking ambulance! That's what I mean!" I didn't know where this anger errupted from, but it felt good to yell at somebody for once. I was so used to being quiet. "Ambulance is on their way." I slammed the phone back onto the holdster and shrivled down against the wall, hugging my knees tight to my chest.
There was a hard knock on the front door. They're here. I shook slightly and stayed where I was. A few knocks later and the door was being kicked down. A group of darkly dressed men and a few men in white ran into my house and toward me. "Are you okay?" one of the men in black asked me. I looked up at him and shook my head no. He stayed with me while the others searched the house. "You're not going to find a body," I stammered. I recieved a few strange looks. "I couldn't even find one myself, all I found was blood on his bed." The police officers asked me where his room was, I told them. A while after they returned downstairs with befuzzled looks upon their faces. "There's no blood. No body. Nothing."
I stood up fast and scrunched my eyebrows. "Yes there is! There has to be! Look at me. Look at my clothes," I began, tugging on my shirt. "This is his blood! It was on his bed! I'm not lying!" The man in white took a deep breath and looked at me with a solemn expression. "You're derranged," he muttered, "or you killed him, either one." I shook my head again. "I didn't kill him!" I looked at each of the officers in the room, recgonizing only one. He looked at me and nodded. "This is Elliot Parker. His uncle is my brother in law. Elliot's not lying, he loved him far too much." I gave him a hopeful look. The man in white stared at me. "I can't take your word for it, Neil, he needs to come with us."
My feet, that seemed to have been glued to the floor, unstuck from the hardwood and I bolted for the door. I ran down the steps and down the road. I refused to look back. I just kept running. Wind hit hard against my face. I took occasional glances at the houses I was passing by, knowng that the families inside were probably sitting at their tables eating dinner. They probably had all of their family members alive. Everyday up until the past couple have been normal, nothing ever fucking changed here. I used to hate everyday being the exact same, but now I wished everything stayed the same. I wish Silvie was still alive, maybe then my uncle would be alive too.
I could hear the cop cars and the ambulance sirens moving closer toward me. Part of me knew that I should just stop running and give up, but I didn't want to go with them. I didn't want to be the talk of the damn neighborhood for weeks on end. I turned around a sharp corner, hopefully throwing off the cars. My mind was racing faster and then I saw it. The perfect hiding place.
A large, gray building stood in front of me. It was surrounded by a tall, black fence and outlined by dead, eight foot tall hedges. There was a small house in front of it - it was small, white and had a rusted door. I knew the house. It was the Artaud residence, and quite possibly the most rumoured about house in all of Havenport. I took a deep breath as I heard the sirens getting closer. I ran toward the black fence and shook at the gate. "Let me in!" I huffed loudly and the gates opened slightly. I stumbled inside the gates and fell to the ground as they closed behind me. The sirens passed by the building, and I watched the cars drive off into the distance. I was safe. I was okay. But what the fuck was this place?