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"Sir, we're finished." We all look behind us to see one of the movers with a clipboard in hand.
Samuel grabs the clipboard and pen from the mover before glancing back at us. "Why don't you guys go ahead and explore the rest of the house? The basement is right down the hall if you want to look around, otherwise you can head upstairs if you want to check out your room."
My mom reaches her hand up, her red nails clinging to Samuel’s black suit jacket. “That sounds lovely. We’ll go wander around and find you in a bit.”
He bends down, pressing his lips to my mom’s cheek.
I heft my bag up farther over my shoulder as I avert my eyes, stepping around the mover and out of the library.
“I think I’m going to check out my room.”
"Do you want to go check out the basement with me?" My mom has an excitement in her eyes as she looks around the house. I get it, it's a big house, beautiful, but it's also a little cold. It makes me feel like I'm in the house on a haunted hill or something.
I shake my head. "I'm tired from the drive. I think I'm going to lay down for a bit. I'll check out the basement later tonight."
She gives me a small smile, her eyes already focused on Samuel as she wraps her arm around his bicep, happiness that I haven't seen in so long lighting up her entire face. Samuel smiles back at her, a tenderness he doesn't seem capable of having softening his harsh features.
I take the nausea in my stomach as my cue, slipping out of the library and walking back toward the living room. I feel like I haven’t even checked out half of the main level, but this place kind of gives me the creeps. It's dark in here, and it's not just because everything around me is dark and gray. The trees outside cover every bit of sunlight that would ever make its way inside the house. I walk up to the window near one of the sofas, peeking outside and into the backyard.
Trees that tower as tall as the house fill the entire backyard. Barely any grass is present, the only green being the amount of pine needles that litter the ground. My fingers press into the wood of the windowsill, the trim old and worn, scratches and dents here and there, yet it still looks pristine and expensive as it lines the window.
There aren't any plants around the house either, I realize. But I don't imagine any plants would be able to flourish in this environment, mostly with no sunlight. This feels like a place where you go to die, not to live.
I shove off the window, turning around and seeing the vast, empty room. It smells like pine in here, like the trees outside have snuck their way through the cracks of the doors and windows and made themselves a permanent fixture in the air.
With my worn, black backpack in hand, I walk toward the staircase. My boots thump against the floor as I walk through the empty house, echoing with each step. I pass the double door office, and I step up to it, my hand poised above the knob. Maybe I can uncover something about Samuel, get my mom to hate him, and we can go back to Fargo where we belong.
My hand presses against the handle, the silver cool against my palm. I grip it, and a blast of cold air hits the back of my neck. I whip my head around, glancing over my shoulder, expecting Samuel to be there with his fierce gaze, looking at me with disdain, and yelling at me for encroaching on his private area.
Except no one is there.
My hand reaches up and I press my fingers against the raised hairs on the back of my neck as I step back from the door. Shivers rack my body as I make my way to the staircase. Each stair is long, about four feet in length. The stone steps are shiny, and I grip the cool railing as I make my way upstairs. It curves around, and I feel like I'm in a dream as I make my way to the second level.
This place really is creepy. There’s no other word for it.
The railing extends over the second level, and once I make it to the top, I glance over the edge, my face the same height as the chandelier. I look down the hallway to the left and see only darkness. Looking right, I again only see more darkness.
Which way do I go?
I decide to head right, leading me down the hallway that's nearly pitch-black the farther I go. There's more artwork up here, eerie paintings of Castle Pointe, dark castles, the forest with fog. I stop when I get to some portraits. Old, black-and-white photos of people that don’t smile. Heavy lines crease their faces as they stare at the camera angrily.
Weird.
Are these their ancestors? Who else would they be? What a weird fucking family.
I step away from the photos and walk up to a door, pressing my hand around the knob and turning it, only to find it locked.
I look around for a light switch, not liking standing in an almost completely blacked-out hallway, but I can't find one.
There's one other door down this way, and that one is also locked. The hall goes even farther, but for some reason, I don't think my bedroom will be down there.
"Well, shit." I walk back the way I came, heading toward the other side of the house. The first room I hit has its door opened, and glancing inside, I see my bed and dresser placed against the wall.
I drop my backpack in the doorway. "Well, I guess this is it." It feels weird seeing my stuff here. Like this is my room, except this isn't my room at all.
I glance farther down the hallway, seeing it extend for what seems like forever. I walk across the hall, opening up the door and seeing a bathroom. Gray and black. That seems to be the theme. Dark wood trim and crown moldings have made their way around the entirety of the house. The place is old, although bits and pieces seem to be modernized, as industrial as they may seem. There is no color here, no feel of warmth. Only darkness and coldness.
The shower is a walk in, no curtain and no door, just a dark, gray stone shower, and peeking around the corner, I see an oversized showerhead that puts a smile on my face.
