Song: Massive Attack - Voodoo In My Blood
Tonal Song: Hollow - Lucas King
It'd been a few days since the strange incident with the attic happened and most of it had started to fade from Kenny's mind by this point. He'd told Stan and Kyle that he went up there and found an old nightstand and lamp, to which Kyle had told him they had been there when he first took a look around the house himself and probably belonged to the previous home owners, who most likely didn't want the old items anymore. He figures it makes enough sense before telling them to change the light in the attic, omitting the strange details of what had happened to him there, as part of him still believed it wasn't really anything and that it was easily explainable in his mind.
No need to worry them over nothing , his thoughts told him.
After a couple more days pass, the light gets changed by Kyle before he heads off to his semester classes. Unknowing to him though, Kenny had been keeping an eye on the door to the attic the whole time. Expecting it to slowly close behind Kyle as he went in.
But it never did.
He tries not to think of the whole incident again too much and just be glad that the light in the attic now finally worked at least.
A long day of work passes for Kenny, his thoughts filled with relaxation when he arrives back home. A sigh is let out as he enters through the front door. He removes his boots and the quiet murmurs of voices catch his attention. Confused about them, he peers into the living room, where the source of them is. His gaze finds the T.V on, figuring that it was just overlooked before he left that day, he walks over to it and shuts it off before heading upstairs.
He takes a shower and unwinds afterwards by playing some games in his room. The time passes and Stan and Kyle come back home as well, at which point Kenny decides to head downstairs to get something to eat. There's some brief small talk between the three before he heads back up with food and continues on gaming. Eventually night falls and he shuts off his game to get ready for bed. As he makes his way back from the washroom, after brushing his teeth, the faint sounds of something catches his ear.
The T.V.
But not the one from his room.
The sounds were coming from downstairs. He thinks maybe it's one of his friends, but recalls them going to their rooms a couple hours ago and not leaving them. Figuring that one of them must have forgotten to turn it off, he heads downstairs. The lights are off, said for the T.V light coming from the living room, finding it strange that they'd remember to turn off the other lights but not the T.V. Either way, power was wasting, so he makes his way over to it.
He approaches it and readies to turn it off. However, just as he's about to press the button, it shuts off. There's a small bit of confusion that crosses his features before he slowly moves away. He doesn't dwell on it too much though, thinking that maybe it's set on some sort of timer that Stan or Kyle may have forgotten about before he starts making his way back to the staircase. He'd work it out tomorrow, when he was less tired. Carefully he makes his way back up the dark stairs. There's a small creak as he reaches the top step, but it's not from him. He glances back down the steps, but is only met with the darkness. Figuring it's only the house settling, he ignores it and heads to his room for some rest.
Waking, Kenny feels restless about something, something to do with a dream that he can't seem to remember from that night no matter how hard he tries to recall it. The only traces of it seemed to be the bizarre sensation of something heavy on his chest. But he ignores it in favor of getting ready for work that day.
As the day passes, the heavy feeling from that morning fades and he's able to focus on his job. The work day passes by like usual for him and he returns back home. He's glad to not find the T.V had been left on again when he checks the living room. However, the thought reminds him of last night and he decides to check the timer settings on the T.V just to make sure. When he finds there isn't any set up, his confusion from before comes back.
If there was no timer set, then what had caused it to turn on and off?
…
Evening falls and Kenny finds himself lying in his bed, playing another game. It was a nice distraction he found, to keep down the strange uneasy feeling that had somehow crept into him and planted itself there.
A few hours pass by of his gaming, before he starts to tire and decides it best to head to bed. So he saves his game and quits it to the menu screen. With a small yawn, he gets up and makes his way over to the gaming console to turn it off. The console turns off to the sound of a small click under his finger and he goes for the T.V next. However, a strange blur catches in the corner of his eye and he stops to turn his attention to it instead.
He turns around to examine his room, over where his lamp rested on a small nightstand, but finds nothing. When he convinces himself that it must be because of tiredness, he faces back to the T.V. With a small push of the button it shuts off as well. He straightens back up once more and goes to head back to bed. But stops. Something catches his eye again, and this time he clearly catches the glimpse of what looks like a small shadow standing right next to his on the wall. Least that's what he thinks it is, before he quickly glances around his room to try and find the source of it. When he looks back to where it was, only his shadow is there. He stares at his shadow, intently, half expecting the smaller one to emerge from his. The thought doesn't unsettle him, till he notices the loud sound of his own heart pulse beating in his ears. At that point he decides to forgo watching his shadow and lie down instead. Telling soft murmurs to himself that it must be because of the lack of sleep behind it.
It takes several hours of trying to ignore the side of his room that he saw the small shadow on, until sleep finds him.
When he wakes, his chest is heavy again. His body aches as well and he thinks it best to take a warm shower to help ease it. He stretches a few times, before actually getting out of bed to take the shower. Once he's gathered some clothes to change into, he makes his way to the bathroom.
The warm water does indeed seem to help ease his ache a bit as he washes himself. After a certain point he just lets the water hit and run over his skin, just taking in the comforting feeling of it. Once he feels relaxed enough, he turns the shower off and gets out.
The bathroom walls sweat with a thin layer of condensation that covers everything in it. Kenny dries himself off with the towel briefly and heads over to the sink. He stops though when his gaze finds something odd. The bathroom mirror had one lone handprint on its steamed surface. It stands out to Kenny, as he was certain it wasn't there when he got in the shower and he wonders where it could have come from. After debating it over for a short while, he decides to chalk it up to one of his friends probably coming in and needing something from the cabinet, or some kind of prank, and that the water was just too loud for him to hear.
He walks over to it and readies to just wipe it away with his hand, but stops again. The handprint placed next to his own is… small. Like that of a child's hand. The eerie inklings of last night's incident slowly start to plague his mind and he quickly wipes the mirror clean.
After he dresses, he spends some time eating and getting ready for the work day. His thoughts quickly latch onto his job and shove the ones from earlier to the corners of his mind.
His work day passes by as usual and when he makes it back home, he grabs something small to eat before heading to the living room to watch some T.V for a bit. He stays there, watching it until his friends return home. Stan joins him for a while, while Kyle heads upstairs to study. Eventually as evening falls, Kenny takes his leave to get ready for the night.
He goes about his usual nightly routine, which mainly just consisted of brushing his teeth and changing into clothing that was more comfortable. He walks back to his room, debating about gaming for a bit. Picking up a pile of discarded clothes on the floor, he tosses them into a small laundry basket, his mind made up by the time the action is done, when turning to face the direction of the console.
"Just a short one should be fine."
He makes his way over to it but stops to the sound of something muffled. He turns back around and finds that one of his shirts has fallen out of the basket. He goes back over to it and places it back in, figuring it must have been hanging off the side or something, and he didn't notice it. With the small chore done, he turns back to his previous objection.
But he stops again.
Something, there's something that catches his eye. Something yellow peering from the crack of his closet door. But when he looks directly at it, there's nothing there. Still though, he was almost certain that he saw something bright yellow catch his eye from there. He shakes his head, deciding it's probably nothing and continues to his gaming console.
The following day passes as usual, although Kenny had woken that morning very restless for some reason, but unable to remember why. His chest was heavy as well, which was seeming to be a growing theme for some reason or other. At some point, he was planning to try and figure out the cause of it, but most of the time felt too tired once he got back home from work. Maybe it was something in the air? He wondered.
When he makes it home he decides to wash his clothes, since he figured that the pile had grown big enough when tossing his clothes in the basket last night, and also because he was slowly starting to run out of socks to wear.
Luckily, he nor his friends needed to go to the laundromat in order to do their laundry, since Kyle's parents decided to gift them, or rather, Kyle, a washer and dryer as a present for his new home. Both Stan and Kenny pretty much figured it was just because they were over worrying about their son needing to head out in the middle of the night, or getting into some possible danger because he needed to wash his clothes, as the real reason why. Since they worried too much about their son, especially his mother, about all the possible dangers he could face in the world on his own, and wanting to prevent them as much as possible, they gave him something like this. Still though, Kenny couldn't complain, it certainly made his and Stan's life a bit easier. So if anything, he guessed he was pretty thankful for their overbearing nature in a way.
He grabs the laundry basket from his room and heads down to the basement. Thankfully, neither he or his friends had to move the heavy appliances to the basement themselves, as the movers took care of all that when they came. The only real pain they had was setting the machines up properly, but were able to get it sorted out.
With a flick of the switch, he makes his way down the old wooden steps to the basement floor. Each step creaks under his weight until reaching the solid cement floor at the bottom. The cool surface of the floor seeps into each step he takes towards the large machines set up almost directly across the staircase. The space of the room was still quite empty, only sports gear, boxes, equipment and other miscellaneous things that weren't required for everyday use were placed here.
The basket lands with a loud thud when reaching the machines, promptly being dropped there. Then a light clang of the lid echoes as he opens the top of the washer. The sorting of his clothes is minimal, figuring it best to see how much he could fit into it, or if it would need to be divided into two loads or not. While tossing his things in, the subtle sound of a creak catches his ear, causing him to stop.
Slowly he turns around, but is only met with minor confusion. The light at the top of the stairs was off, despite knowing that he had turned it on. Positive he did. Squinting at the door, it's dark, of course that was to be expected since the light had gone out but, did the light going out in front of it really cause it to be so dark? He figures it must be the case and faces back to the washer, deciding to chalk up the light as faulty wiring.
Only a mere few seconds pass before yet another small creak catches his ear. Attention is drawn back to the staircase, but it remains the same. At least, at first glance. For it's only when he goes to look away, does he notice the door doesn't seem as dark. It appeared almost as if the darkness in front of it was off a tad. As if it was lower than the last somehow. However, staring into a dark area and its shadows, always had ways to play tricks on the eyes.
Turning back around, he quickly puts the rest of his clothes into the wash. There's a loud clang of metal as the lid slips from his grasp, its sound bouncing off the walls and interior of the machine. A self curse is given from the sudden noise, before he goes to turn the dial on. But the sound of a very distinctive creak stops him. There's something strange he gets from it, as if telling him not to dare another glance back this time. Unexplainably so. However… His curiosity's hunger is greater... So he looks.
At first his mind tells him everything is fine when he looks at the door. But what he was seeing and what his mind was thinking didn't align. The darkness that had been in front of the door was no longer there. Confusion fills his mind at first and tries to explain away that the door had always looked that way. But part of him knew it didn't, because he had seen it much darker than that, two times prior. As irrational as it was, his thoughts couldn't help but wonder, where did the darkness of it go? He almost wanted to laugh at that absurd thought the more it settled in his mind, but finds any such feeling of amusement gone in an instant the moment his gaze travels down the stairs.
He'd found the darkness.
It was resting under the door. Across the stairs as if lying on them sprawled out. Time slows in an instant for him, the present becomes still and detached, even his own body. Breathing grows hard and shallow, unlike his rapid pulse. Eyes wide as he watches it intently. It blended so well into the dark, that he even debates if what he's seeing is real or not.
But he gets his answer when it actually moves, causing a sharp inhale of breath to fill his lungs. It inches its way down the next step, its movement lethargic and unnatural, causing the hairs on his body to stand on end in a chill. It's only when it begins its trek down the following step, is he made acutely aware that he's at the bottom of those steps it was on.
Part of him still doubted if it was real or not, but he didn't care to find out. Hurriedly, he makes his way over to the cellar door. Creaks come from the old stairs, causing him to glance back almost every second at them. He tries to push the cellar door open a few times, but to no avail, the double door must've been locked from the outside. A part of himself can't help but curse at it, wondering why they never bothered to remove it, he of course knew the logical answer to this, but that was irrelevant to his current state.
The creaks continue, seeming to grow closer together now. It was moving faster down the steps. He tries the cellar door again, this time much more urgent, trying his best to shove all his weight into it and maybe by some miracle he could break the damn lock. Over and over he slams against it with all his might, ignoring the soreness that was starting to form around his shoulder. The sound of his adrenaline filled ears only being silenced, when met with silence after one final creak.
He doesn't want to turn and face whatever may be behind him now, but the feeling of not knowing where it could be is stronger and he forces himself to turn around.
Doing so, he quickly finds—nothing. There's nothing. He had expected to find it lying on the floor, crawling towards him, but is only met with silence. His ears strain for sound, but none comes. For a moment he breathes, calming down, before another thought wonders if it's hiding in wait somewhere for him.
For a long while he doesn't move and just remains on the cellar steps. Sparing quick glances at anything he thinks has a hint of movement. Still though, nothing happens. Time is frozen, everything around him is, until he finally decides to move it again. The only thought driving him to do so being, that if it was indeed down here with him, hiding, he didn't want to be around it. Caution fills every step he takes back to the stairs, keeping distance from any potential hiding spots. Hesitation strikes him for a second when he reaches them, some part of him not wanting to look up, but needing to. There's nothing. He glances around the basement once more. Still nothing. Did he really see what he thought he saw? Was it really real?
Either way, he takes the chance to ascend the steps. The first couple he takes slow, still filled with caution, but a sudden gut instinct takes hold of him and he finds himself rushing up them. As if something told him to. The sound of his rushing steps seem to double as he reaches the top. But when he turns to quickly slam the door shut behind himself, nothing is there.
Backing away from the door, he leans against the wall opposite to it with a sigh. He only rests for a moment before his head turns to the front door and he makes his way over to it. Unlocking it, fresh air fills his lungs. He steps onto the porch to take in a few deep breaths, calming him. Walking over to the concrete steps, he takes a seat on them, letting the sounds and sensations of the outside world consume him for a while.
He remains sitting there, until a couple hours later, when his friends arrive back home with minor confusion on their faces.
There's a brief debate in his mind on if he should tell them what he saw, or thought he saw, before deciding not to. In the end, how was he going to tell them what happened, if he himself wasn't even sure it was real in the first place. Because there was nothing. Nothing at all. Still though, he decides it best not to make them worry and only replies with, "I'm fine," and, "I just needed some fresh air is all," when they inquire about him sitting there.
It's not until evening arrives, does he head back in. Looking around, everything seems normal, which only makes him question himself even more as he makes his way to his room. The first thing he spots when entering it, is a familiar white laundry basket now placed upon his bed, causing him to freeze.
"Kyle brought that up," Stan's voice says from behind.
It startles Kenny for a moment, before he turns to him. "Oh."
"He was pretty annoyed that you left it down there. Complained about it for a while, but ended up doing it anyway so he could use the wash next," Stan explains, seeming mildly amused when recalling the event.
"I see…" Kenny says looking back at it, "so that's why…"
"Hey man, you sure you're okay? You seemed kind of out of it when we talked with you outside earlier."
"Yeah I'm fine," Kenny says as he walks over to the basket, "just… tired is all."
"If you say so," Stan shrugs, "anyways, I'm going to go take a shower. You need to use the bathroom or anything before I do?"
"No, I'm good."
"Alright then," Stan says before he heads off.
Once Kenny hears the water turn on from the bathroom, he moves the basket to the floor and falls onto his bed.
He may not know if what he saw was real or not, but he did know for certain that he was tired.
…
Night finds Kenny in his room, playing a game on his phone. Time idles by, until the sound of a small creak stops it. A glance is speared in the direction of the closet to a small opening. It transfixes his gaze, drawing it into the darkness of the closet. Waiting as if something should happen.
And something does.
Four small fingers of murky black, extend from the dark opening. They curl around the closet door gently. They move in motions of clawing once settled, but no sound is made. Said for the faint heartbeat in Kenny's ears.
The light in his room flickers.
They disappear.
Kenny walks over to the closet with caution. Wanting to know if what he saw was real or not. Each step forward, made the beating in his ears grow. Almost to an unbearable amount. The faintest creak pierces the beating and all returns to silence. He stops, eyes unable to look away from the small space. As if the darkness behind it demanded his attention. Drawing him in closer to comfort his curiosity.
Then it's back.
The fingers.
They curve around the side of the door again.
Kenny's heart starts to race.
The door slowly slides open.
Kenny can't run, he's trapped in place.
Darkness greets him from the closet.
There's silence again.
Long.
Deafening.
Silence.
Kenny moves.
A single step.
The darkness breathes in response.
Giant yellow eyes emerge from it.
And Kenny is consumed by the dark.
Kenny wakes to a sharp gasp. Multiple quick breaths are taken, mixed with the beating of a racing pulse. Shirt drenched in cold sweat, sticking to his skin. A quick glance is given to his surroundings. The familiar setting of his room eases him. When he calms more, he holds his head and lets out a deep sigh.
He hadn't known when he fell asleep, or even what he had been doing before it. His mind was fuzzy and chest heavy. While trying to clear his thoughts, his gaze is drawn to the closet. Staring at it for a long while, before deciding to get up and walk towards it.
He chews at the inside of his cheek, when stopping in front of it. Hesitating for only a moment, before grabbing the door and sliding it open with such force, it slams against the wall. He doesn't breathe at first, but relaxes when he finds nothing but clothes and a few boxes.
He sighs.
"Of course there's nothing."
The door slides shut and he makes his way to the bathroom. A part of him felt dumb that he expected something to actually be there. But another part was glad there wasn't. Turning the tap on, he splashes some water onto his face. The feeling is a nice bit of small relief. Water drips down his face as he glances up at the mirror. Red eyes and faint circles that had formed under them greeted his gaze.
"None of it is real… I'm fine."