Kady missed a lot of things she had before the move to England—the leaves that were still in all shades of Autumn, a heater that actually worked, internet access, but most of all she missed a house that was quiet when she was trying to sleep. At her old house, there were no creaks and groans that she didn't know by heart; hell, she could be sitting in the downstairs game room and tell you that the creaking upstairs was just their lopsided washer. But Allerdale Hall had noises all its own and she was ready to strangle August for making them move here.
There were mice on the third floor that kept scurrying up and down the halls, the pipes in the kitchen would protest loudly whenever she tried to use the sink, the house seemed to groan whenever the wind picked up, and there was some kind of animal in the room next to hers that paced all damn night! She was losing what little sanity she had left, and she was one squeak away from going next door and strangling the woodland creature her damn self.
Growling, she rolls onto her side and presses her pillow against her ear to drown out the sounds, glaring at the wall her bed was set against as though the wall was personally responsible for her suffering. "One more sound," she grumbles irritably," just one more and I'm going to punch something." It went blissfully quiet for a moment, like the house had heard her and was complying, and Kady allowed her eyes to close.
Squeak.
Kady throws her covers off her and quickly pulls on her shoes before stalking out of her room and pushing the door to the room next door wide open, her fear of the Boogeyman clouded by the annoyed rage that was boiling in her veins. What she found on the other side of the door had that fear doubling in size, freezing her in place as she stared at the thing that had been pacing until the door opened.
It—a man, she realized after a second—was standing stock still in the middle of the room, his head turned in her direction with surprise evident on his face. Everything about the man was white except for the black of his hair, one of his eyes, and a gash directly below it, the eye filled with blood and the gash leaking a crimson vapor that curled in the air. Dream guy.
"Who—?"
But he was gone before she could even get the word completely out, and the room seemed colder than it had been when she flung the door open. She was still frozen a minute later when it dawned on her that she wasn't hallucinating, that the squeaking of floorboards had stopped the moment the man had gone still.
In a daze, Kady shuts the door and takes a few healthy steps away from it until she felt the wood of the banister pressing against her lower back. We really do have ghosts. Do they have ghost exterminators or should I call those Warren people that handle stuff like this? She was terrified, shaking all over as she tried to process what she had seen. Am I dreaming again? A quick, not to mention painful, pinch on her arm dismissed that theory and really cemented the fact that she had seen a ghost. Heart beating fast in her chest, Kady ran back into her room and locked the door behind her before diving into bed.
"Covers protect me," she whispers over and over, pulling her blankets over her head and curling up in a ball. Her mother had taught her that when she was little, that monsters couldn't find you once you were under the covers because they work as camouflage. "Covers protect me, covers protect me." But will they protect me from Hannibal Lector's ghost?
Milo didn't want to wake up the next morning, not when every inch of his body was sore from getting most of the parlor set up the night before. He felt like he hadn't had more than two hours of sleep, which might have been accurate considering he had such a hard time last night. It seemed he'd see that ghost's malicious smile every time he closed his eyes and he'd shoot up in bed expecting her to still be leaning over him.
He lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair and causing it to stand up more than it usually did. Maybe August would let him take it easy if Milo promised to work even harder tomorrow? He could only hope, but he had very little of it as he moved into the bathroom for a shower. Maybe the hot water will help ease the soreness in my muscles. He hasn't felt this sore since his first swim practice, but he knew the only way to ease it is to work through it.
As the water was heating up, he walks over to the sink and starts brushing his teeth, eyes trained on his reflection. That's why he saw it, the way the steam from the hot water seemed to part and swirl around empty air the way it would if a human passed through it. "I'm just seeing things," he mutters, staring hard into the basin of the sink as he finishes what he's doing. All the same, he turns slowly and looks around him for any other sign that someone was in the bathroom with him before shutting the door and undressing.
Normally he'd only wear boxers and a pair of sweats to bed, but that was impossible here since the house feels like a freezer. He quickly stepped under the warm spray of water, letting out a sigh of relief as he left the frigid air behind him and his body slowly began to relax. Knowing August would expect him downstairs for a family breakfast soon, Milo washes as quickly as he can before rinsing off and getting out.
The air seemed colder than usual, but he put that down to his wet body and grabbed his towel to dry off, using it on his hair first since his hair is his pride and joy. He was slow when it came to drying everything else, muscles protesting his movements and the arm he broke in sixth grade throbbing because of the cold. He tried to push it all to the back of his mind, going on autopilot to get himself dressed in clothes that would ensure he stayed moderately warm but could move easily.
He pulls on a pair of dark jeans that hung low on his hips, his deodorant, a dark blue tee with an unbuttoned dark blue flannel shirt over that, thick socks, his usual Sneakers, a belt to keep August from giving him the disapproved parent stare, his watch, and a braided cord bracelet that featured two faux silver skulls biting a metal oval. To complete his morning routine, he turns back to the mirror to style his hair and slip on his beanie, but what he finds waiting for him has him shaking from more than just the cold. There were three words written on the steamed up glass, the script elegant and tilted slightly, fading as the steam dispersed, but he could still read them clearly.
Beware Crimson Peak.
Milo stays in there long enough to grab his comb, beanie, and hair gel before bolting out of the bathroom and down the hall to Kady's room where music was playing quietly from the iPod on her desk. Kady was seated next to the iPod, knees drawn nearly to her chest, and she was writing something with an old fashioned fountain pen. Milo moves over to her, tossing her laptop on her rumpled covers before seating himself in her chair and propping his feet up on the desk.
They were quiet for a moment, Kady's eyes trained on the sketchpad and Milo's eyes on her face. She was tense, her brows knitted together, but he couldn't tell if it was from wanting whatever she was writing to be perfect of if she was as scared as he was. Has she experienced anything? But he didn't know how to breach the subject and he didn't want to scare her if she hadn't seen anything. After a moment, Milo stands and hops up on the desk next to her, leaning over to see what she was so focused on.
Calligraphy practice, he realized, taking in the detailed, swirling handwriting, I forgot she'd been taking classes before we moved. Then he really focused on what she had written, it was a saying from American Horror Story that she'd been fond of, but it only made his stomach clench. 'Close your eyes and remember everything is going to be okay.'
"Have you seen her, too," he whispers, voice barely heard over the sound of the classical music Kady had playing. Slowly and carefully, Kady lifts the fountain pen from the paper and screws the lid on it, and it's only then that Milo realizes that the pen was gold—real gold—instead of the blue and metal one August had given her when she'd started her classes. "Where'd you get that pen, Kady-bug?"
"I found it on my desk this morning," she whispers back. She was ashen and there was a tremor in her hands as she hands the pen off to him. He studies it closely, noticing flakes of russet clinging to the gold near the lid. "I think he gave it to me as an apology for keeping me awake at night."
"August?"
"No, th-the other man…. The dead one." The song changes, the tune upbeat and he recognizes it as one from Glee. "Is there a woman here, too? Did you see a woman ghost?" He nods, still staring down at the pen, turning it over and over in his hands until something caught his attention. There was a word etched into one of the sides, barely visible, but it seemed to flash slightly from the light shining into the room. Edith.
"Didn't we have a grandmother named Edith?"
"Uh, yeah, she was crazy so Gram put her in a home until she died. I think we were six and seven when she finally passed away."
"But didn't she always go on and on about a book she'd lost in England?"
"Uh-huh, but she was off her rocker."
"Guys," August calls, cutting off Milo when he walks into Kady's room. "Come on, it's time to get moving." Milo sets the pen down on the desk and hops down, walking to Kady's bathroom to fix his hair, still processing everything. "Geez, Kady, I bought you a chair for a reason."
"I sit in front of a desk for eight hours a day when I'm in school, Dad." The music cut off and their voices faded as they left Kady's room. Milo was still thinking about Edith, trying hard to remember anything about her that didn't involve her crazed ramblings. What was her last name? McMichael or something like that. He shakes his head a little, sliding his beanie on and walking downstairs to the kitchen where everyone had gathered in anticipation of whatever Kady was making.
"Are you feeling okay, Bub?"
"Fine," he mumbles, making a point to sit between August and Emy.
When he looks up from his empty plate, intending to ask about Edith, he freezes in place and stares behind his dad with widened eyes. The woman was there, basically just a shadow that seemed to melt against August's side, but the red accents of her dress stood out from the darkness surrounding her.
"Maybe you should take it easy today, just get some rest."
"Yeah, maybe I should."
