The lights were out in the house. Darren checked and rechecked the windows for any sign of life. This was his job tonight. Slowly he peered around the shadowy edges of the wild creepers and bushes he had been hiding behind. Mosquitoes greeted him with their low buzzing and he blew at them to get them out of his face.
The grass made the barest rustle as he crept towards the back door. Surprisingly, the door wasn't even locked. He had been told that there was someone living in the house and automatically assumed that it was probably an old lady or someone else just as helpless since his boss hadn't given him a gun for the night. He had brought his knife along just in case. All he needed was to get whatever money he could get his hands on and the photo album that his boss had asked for then he would be out and nobody would hurt. A prickling feeling of being watched trickled down his spine like cold water as he turned the doorknob and let himself into the house.
The kitchen was clean. Spotless in fact with not even a cobweb in sight. The shelves were unusually empty though, as was the pantry that he passed by. A silent chill that made his flesh creep came and went every time he thought about stopping or turning back. He had no choice but to go on. The stairway was just a empty, no vases or crazy cat pictures. Not even a porcelain teacup in sight. In fact, there was only empty furniture arranged around the house to imitate a lived-in house. No wonder it was cold, he thought to himself. As he set foot on the first step of the stairs, he suddenly remembered that he had seen a light on in the upstairs bedroom window. He freaked out and tried to turn around. His leg refused to move. He was stuck.
Darren slumped down on the step, his leg twisted at an uncomfortable angle as he tried to prise his foot out of the shoe. It wouldn't budge, not even when he used his knife. His foot was bleeding a little inside the shoe. He could only hope that someone noticed his absence and came for him. It occured to him that perhaps the house was haunted and he shivered. He didn't believe in God or ghosts and now wasn't exactly when he wanted to be proved wrong. His entire life, he had believed in what was tangible, material things. Money to be exact. That was what he took the job up for anyway. Breaking in wasn't his usual job. He put his head between his hands and squeezed his eyelids shut. He felt like crying, screaming. He had spent the last 20 minutes yelling for help, but nobody seemed to have heard him. His handphone wasn't where it was supposed to be in his pocket.
A whisper caught his attention. It was soft but the voice sounded urgent. He whipped his head up and looked around. There was no one in sight yet. Darren didn't care even if he was found by a cop. He just wanted out. The whisper came again. It sounded like it was from upstairs. He craned his neck up, towards the landing. Nothing. The moonlight came in through a window at the top of the stairs.
Again the whisper. Darren frantically tugged at his foot and then he heard it, right next to his ear. "Do you need any help with the leg?" came the soft voice. He jumped, screamed and tried to leap away but managed to only twist his leg even further. A girl stood next to him, dressed in a grey nightgown that billowed around her. Darren pushed himself further up the steps, his leg still anchoring him to the bottom step as she got closer to him. "Who- who the heck are you?" he stuttered. She smiled prettily and picked up the knife he dropped on the floor. His knife. He couldn't see her eyes clearly, but she had a lovely smile and sharp cheekbones. Darren's eyes widened as she bent to his foot and aimed the tip at the bottom of his shoe. A sharp crack and he came free, the carpeting glued to the bottom of his sole.
"Uh, thanks. Could I have that back please?" he mustered as he gestured towards the knife the girl still held. Her eyes were a beautiful black that shone in the dim light. Something was wrong about them despite her beauty. Her waist length hair waved around her in a wind he didn't feel. Only a draft, he convinced himself as the girl made as if to step closer to him and hand him the knife. She put her face next to his and whispered "Run." Darren did as she said, his heart hammering like a hummingbird's wings. Her eyes were empty hollows.
He never reached the landing. A silver blur shot through the air and he didn't move again. "Ah, pity. He never made it." came the whisper that echoed through the empty house.
~Rei Shiori
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