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Each door in the house has an ode to whoever once lived behind it. At first, I found it odd, but now that I’m intrigued by what happened here before, I’m thankful for them.
Lenore, it reads.
“Lenore,” I whisper, running my index finger over it and clearing the thick dust from her name.
As if the person behind the door has heard me, the noise ceases, and a spike of adrenaline races through my veins.
I freeze, my finger still hovering over the nameplate.
“Hello?” I manage shakily.
The light inside the room flickers off.
I gasp, stepping back into the middle of the hall, hating the looming space bearing down on my back like the hot breath of a monster about to gobble me whole.
“I just wanted to ask that you be respectful. It’s the middle of the night, and I’m trying to sleep!” I say it loud enough that I hope whoever it is will quiet down.
Nothing.
No reply, no movement, and the light remains off.
I sigh, too chicken shit to walk into a room I’m not expressly allowed to enter, as I turn to escape back the way I came.
The creaking of an opening door causes me to squeak with fear and rush to the left wall, backing myself into it as the door I was just at, Lenore’s door, slowly opens.
My heart is the only sound I can hear, the rushing whomp of blood beating my eardrums. My breathing is threatening to kill the candle, and I move it away from my body, holding it toward where the door now stands wide.
“Hello? I didn’t mean to offend or bother you. I only wanted you to quiet down.”
It feels a bit foolish to speak to open air, but a presence other than mine fills the space; it’s like I know someone’s there, just not who.
For moments untold, I remain in a suspended state of fear, clinging to the wall like I’m becoming a paisley doodle within it, sinking into the damask design.
Fear slowly turns to anger, naturally, and I call out, “Look, just show yourself, so we can talk this through!”
Nothing.
Empty silence.
Rage propels me toward the open door, but it slams as soon as I get close.
Gripping the handle, I rip it open and step inside, holding up my candle like a beacon of safety.
“Can’t we just talk about this?” I ask, my voice betraying my fear, quivering.
My words, while meek, reverberate through the empty space.
I turn the candle’s light over the room, finding… nothing.
There’s no one here. The closet stands open and empty, and the bathroom is the same.
The room… is empty.
There’s not a scrap of furniture in sight.
“What the fuck?” I whisper, and my heart sinks when the flame on my candle extinguishes. “No, no, no!”
I lit it the same way Sophie had, with the fire.
