Rachael was inside the house again.
The long, dark hallway stretched ahead of her like a throat-wet, rotting, and pulsing with something alive. She ran, barefoot on cold wooden floors that groaned with every step, splinters digging into her skin. The wallpaper peeled and pulsed like skin, breathing in and out.
Then the banging started.
BOOM.
A wall to her left slammed inward-missing her by inches. Dust and debris burst into the air.
She screamed and ran faster.
BOOM.
Another wall came from the right-slamming like a beast's fist, splintering wood flying past her ear. The corridor was closing in, shifting, changing, as if the house itself was reshaping to trap her. The floor tilted under her feet, the stairs behind vanished.
The house was alive-and it wanted her dead.
A door at the end of the hall lit up with a pale, golden glow.
She ran toward it.
The walls thudded and crashed beside her, the floor trembled beneath her steps. Blood began seeping through the cracks of the wood-trickling, then pouring-coating her legs, sticking to her skin like tar.
A voice boomed through the house, guttural and ancient.
"You belong to me."
Rachael sobbed and kept running. Her breath caught in her throat. Her fingers stretched out toward the light-
Just a few more steps.
The walls on either side lunged, like jaws closing to crush her-
She leapt forward.
And landed in silence.
The light swallowed everything.
The noise, the walls, the blood-all vanished into brilliant white. She floated, breathless, suspended in the stillness. Her heart pounded like a drum, but the silence was complete.
Then she saw it.
A figure.
Standing in the light-tall, cloaked in black mist, with no face... but it saw her. It knew her.
The figure slowly raised its arm, pointing straight at her.
And then, in a voice like dry leaves cracking underfoot, it said:
"You cannot escape the house. It knows you now."
Rachael gasped-eyes snapping open in the real world, heart hammering, drenched in cold sweat. The room was dark. Still. Safe.
Rachael sat at the edge of her bed, her hands trembling slightly as she replayed the nightmare in her mind. The dream had felt real-too real. The crushing walls, the blood-soaked floors, the voice that echoed in the house. She peeked through the window. The sky was still tinted with darkness, but the first sliver of sunrise had begun to push through the horizon.
She pulled the curtain aside and stared out at the silhouette of the abandoned house. It stood still and hollow, as though watching her. Catherine's voice echoed in her head-"You think a lot about that house. Just stop thinking about it." Maybe she was right. Maybe the dreams were because her mind was always circling back to it.
Rachael opened the window, letting the morning breeze sweep into the room. It tangled through her hair, bringing with it the scent of damp earth and early dew. She smiled slightly, the house forgotten for a moment, as her thoughts drifted to Dylan-his voice, his sparkling blue eyes, that crooked smile. Just thinking about him made her cheeks warm.
She stepped into the washroom, splashed cold water on her face, and took a quick shower. she felt more like herself. She changed into a soft blue top and crisp white trousers. As she rummaged through the drawer for her comb, her eyes landed on something else-the oval golden pendant.
She picked it up gently. The pendant still held the faint scent of river water. She had found it on the day of their last family picnic-the last day she saw her father. It had been glinting in the mud near the riverbank, and something about it had drawn her in. She wore it now, letting the familiar weight settle against her chest.
Downstairs, she prepared a simple breakfast-toast and fresh orange juice. The silence of the house made every movement louder, every thought deeper. When her mother came down, she kissed Rachael's forehead and smiled.
"Breakfast is already ready? My little girl is all grown up."
They sat and ate together, chatting quietly.
Rachael studied her mother-the woman she used to be. Before her father's disappearance, she was lively and outspoken. Now she was more reserved, the dark circles under her eyes more permanent, her once-vibrant hair streaked with silver. She was quieter these days, burdened with something she never spoke about.
After breakfast, Rachael grabbed her bag.
"I'm going to Teapot. Want me to bring you something?"
"No, darling. Just have a good time."
As Rachael walked through the streets, she spotted a familiar face coming her way. Anna her neighbor Her silver-streaked curls bounced as she waved, always carrying that signature spark in her eyes.
"Rachael! Did you hear?"
"Hear what?"
"You don't know? Mr. Peter's son-Liam-his body was found near the abandoned house. Police are investigating."
Rachael stopped in her tracks. "Liam? That guy was obsessed with solving the town's murders. He used to talk about sneaking into the house after 9."
Anna raised a brow. "How do you know that?"
"I heard him once at the canteen. He was talking to his friends-I happened to be sitting right next to them. He said he wanted to go there and prove everyone wrong."
"Want to check it out?"
Together, they walked to the edge of the cordoned-off area. Yellow tape screamed CRIME SCENE - DO NOT CROSS. The body had already been taken, but investigators were swarming the area. An officer even asked if they had seen anything. Both shook their heads, knowing that whatever happened would likely disappear into unsolved files like the others.
They left soon after, heading to Teapot for some tea.
As Anna sipped her drink, Rachael's thoughts spiraled. Who killed Liam? Was it really some spirit? Or was it something far more human?
One thing was clear-something was wrong in their town.
Something deadly.
And it was far from over.
As evening painted the town in golden-orange hues, Rachael hurried to the park, her heart fluttering with anticipation. The park was alive with movement and laughter. Children giggled as they swung high into the air, some pushing each other with bursts of joyful energy, while nearby, their mothers sat on benches, immersed in their own conversations. The swings echoed with the creaks of rusted chains under playful weight.
Rachael scanned the park. The swings were full, so she settled on a nearby bench, her eyes constantly drifting to the entrance, waiting-hoping-for Dylan to appear. The sun slowly dipped behind the horizon, and the sky wore shades of lavender and pink. She listened to the birds, their songs sounding almost melancholic, as if mourning something unseen.
Her thoughts floated to Dylan-his charming smile, the glint in his blue eyes, the calm confidence in his voice. Everything about him seemed like a dream. A perfect, mysterious dream.
Catherine's voice snapped her out of her trance.
"Hey, Rachael! You waiting for someone?"
Rachael blinked. "No, I was just listening to the birds."
Catherine smiled, sitting beside her. "Yeah, this time of day... the sky, the breeze, the birds singing-it's perfect."
Rachael nodded quietly.
Catherine noticed the pendant hanging around Rachael's neck. "Hey, when did you get that?"
Rachael held it up. The golden oval shimmered faintly. "I found it on the riverbank the last time we went for that family picnic. It was covered in mud. I don't know why, but I kept it."
Catherine leaned closer, inspecting it. "It looks old. Really old. Like something ancient, from a different time."
Rachael's gaze wandered again, scanning the park. Her fingers toyed with the pendant.
Catherine nudged her. "Looking for someone?"
Rachael shook her head. "No. Just watching the kids. They'll leave soon before night."
The air grew heavier as dusk deepened.
Catherine sighed. "Did you hear about the murder this morning? Another body found... near the abandoned house."
Rachael's spine stiffened. "Yeah. I went with Anna. We saw the police, but the body was already taken."
Catherine looked down. "They won't find the killer. Just like the others. These cases always end the same. Closed. Forgotten."
Rachael murmured, "Let's hope this time is different."
Catherine gave her a small, weary smile. "Yeah... let's hope."
As the evening chilled and darkness crept in, the park slowly emptied. The swings hung still once more. The laughter faded. Rachael remained seated, her heart sinking. Dylan never came.
Maybe he was busy. Maybe something came up.
But as she stood and glanced back at the empty park one last time, an odd chill ran down her spine. She could almost feel eyes on her. Watching. Waiting.
She pulled her jacket closer and hurried home, the quiet night echoing with the unanswered question:
Where was Dylan?