“Why did you do this?”

A little figure painted in red.

“Why did you do this to me?”

Another figure joins, head gone.

Eyes, eyes, eyes.

Where are the eyes?

The floor is disappearing.

Everything is disappearing.

What is real?

Nothing is happening.

Nothing at all.

N

o

t

h

i

n

g

. . .

WHY?

You open your eyes with a gasp. The bath water has gone cold by now, bubbles slowly

fading into murky water, the candles having long gone out. You breathe slowly, taking a look

around the bathroom.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Where am I?

The house is dark, you take notice as you walk to the bedroom. You walk through hall

after hall of pictures and mirrors in a house long since has been in the family. Great Aunt

Beatrice with her estranged husband John sits at the end of the hall, a single candle burning

under them. It is their house. It is not yours.

A shadow passes. It is lonely. It wants you to play with it. You have to make up for what

you did anyways.

What you did?

No.

You don’t have that responsibility.

That is on your predecessors alone.

But you are alone. Therefore it shall be you.

You breathe. The shadow disappears, the air lifts.

She is gone for now.

A ringing from the attic. You ignore it. That is what Mother taught you anyways. The

ones up there don’t like you. It is best to ignore them.

A door slams behind you. It is locked. It will not open.

You push forward into the kitchen. The locked door will open later. Better to just wait it

out.

The light is on over a chess board. It wasn’t there when you came home. That’s ok, he is

friendly and likes the company. Play with him. He will not harm you.

Red stains your eyes every time they close. The color associated with love, hate, power,

and danger. All things that once lived in this house. It will not leave your eyes. They were

stained from the moment you were born.

You eat your sandwich, moving a chess piece. The chess piece moves.

Checkmate. Your loss.

Oh well, the light turns off and he leaves, happy he won.

A flash outside. You didn’t realize a storm was coming. Maybe it was a trick of the mind.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

You go to the front door. It slams and locks. They won’t let you leave, not without a

payment. Not the normal way. You turn around.

You enter the hallway. The lights lead to the attic.

No.

You already told them you will not.

A flash outside. A little figure painted in red.

You know what happens if you go upstairs.

A pull on your hair.

Come child.

Your eyes are leaking, the red is still there but your eyes are open.

Your legs start to move. You are not moving them. You are unwilling.

The strong willed are powerful. The strong willed stay human. You don’t think you are

quite human anymore. Not after this house.

The air grows cold.

They are happy. Another one of the same blood finally theirs.

They jeer and crow as you pass them. Hundreds of souls who all want one thing.

Step

by

Step

You cannot see anymore. All you see is red as your legs move climbing the stairs.

They are very impatient. You have entertained them long enough.

They are very persuasive. You guess they gave up wanting revenge from the willing.

They will take from the dead. That’s how they did it before.