“I think we should head back,” Austin shook his head. “I don’t like the vibe of this place.”
“Do you ever hear yourself and wonder why you whine so much?” Emlyn asked him.
I was used to their bickering: for Austin and Emlyn, it was almost a natural way of communication. If they were not busy getting on each other’s nerves, then I would be worried.
Emlyn headed to the left wing of the house, and I followed her, letting my instincts guide me. She led us across a hallway decorated with dust and cobwebs. This was the good part of the house, where the windows hadn’t been charred by the fire decades ago, and this section of the house was in remarkably good shape. The lack of graffiti, or of dirt thrown on the floor, was unnerving; you would expect at least some empty cans or candy wrappers, or any indication of a human presence besides the original inhabitants.
Following after Emlyn, I entered the first room to the right, which turned out to be a library. Walking in here was like entering a time capsule. If the previous inhabitants had just up and left a week ago rather than fifteen years, I would’ve believed it. Except for all items in the room being caked in a layer of dust, everything else was undisturbed.
“It’s creepy how they just left everything.” Austin let his hand slide over an armchair standing to the left. “Place could use a sweep, though.”
“Glad you’ve found your sense of humor again,” Emlyn said.
“I guess with the fire, they didn’t have time to grab everything. And then afterward… Four people died in the fire, so maybe there was no one left.” Finding information about the people living in Ash House before it burned down had been a near impossible task, even with the help of the internet.
“So, no one inherited the house either?” Austin asked, inspecting the books.
I focused on the notebook lying open on the desk. Blowing the dust away from the book, I could make out a scribbly handwriting. November 1st, 2003 was written on top of the page, the date of the entry. A shiver ran down my spine. That was the date of the fire.
“Not that I know,” I replied while I tried to read the rest of the entry. “The newspapers weren’t exactly forthcoming on that part, but even if someone inherited the house, clearly he or she wasn’t interested in it.”
“How can you let a place like this go to waste?” Emlyn asked. “Even if the left wing burned down, this part looks inhabitable.”
I agreed, which made it all the more curious why no one had moved in during the last decade, or never even made an effort to sell the property.
Lifting up the notebook, I squinted to read the rest of the entry.
November 1st, 2003.
We thought we had defeated her, but we were wrong. She followed us, and now she is lying in wait, desperate to catch us on our own and exploit our weaknesses. She shattered our defenses. We underestimated the threat, and it might get us killed. We’re under siege by an enemy we can’t defeat.
A threat? An enemy?
“What are you reading?” Austin asked. “Found anything interesting?”
“I want to explore the rest of this mastodon, not stay in this stuffy library.” Emlyn rolled her eyes. “Can we get going?”
“I…” I opened my mouth, about to tell them what I had read, but then promptly closed my mouth again. “It’s nothing, just a stupid diary. Emlyn’s right.” I slammed the book shut. “Let’s go.”
“Hm.” Austin’s gaze bored into me, suspicion written all over his features, but he didn’t protest while I chased after Emlyn to the next room.
“Well…” Emlyn stayed frozen in the entrance. “Hello, darkness, my old friend.”
The library had been illuminated by two windows inside the room itself, and another from the hallway, but all windows in this room were boarded up.
I fiddled with the switch on the flashlight and let out a relieved sigh when the torch turned on, casting an eerie golden glow into the room.
Emlyn struggled with her torch as well, but eventually the light popped on.
“Seems like a curiosity cabinet,” I said as I wandered from closet to closet, staring at the oddities hidden behind glass. Jars upon jars of animals on formaldehyde, ranging from mice to coiled snakes, filled the glass cabinets.
“What’s that?” Austin asked. “Seems more like a crazy scientist’s lab, if you ask me.”
“Back in the Victorian era, just about every household had a cabinet filled with curiosities like these.” I lifted one of the jars, almost dropping it when the gigantic eye of an owl stared straight at me. “The only difference is that here, the cabinet is a room.”
“I don’t know, Faye.” Emlyn inspected a jar filled with the same green-brown liquid. “I’m pretty sure this is a brain, and at this point, I’m just hoping it’s not human.”
“A crumbling house, a cabinet filled with horrors.” Austin walked toward the desk standing in the middle of the room. “I’m pretty sure the previous inhabitants of Ash House were lunatics.” He paused for a second, staring at a glass box lying on top of the desk. “What in god’s name… Is that a golden hand?”
I moved next to him, following his gaze. “It appears so.” The golden hand wasn’t just a hand piece, an ancient replica to be worn by someone who had lost his limbs. It looked every bit like an actual hand, complete with veins and nails, that had been dipped in gold and was cut off at the wrist.
I suppressed a shudder.
“Admit it, this is spooky as hell.” Austin looked at me, forcing me to focus on him.
“Okay, the hand is creepy,” I admitted. “But apart from that, it’s pretty cool, no?”
Austin sighed. “You two are insane. This isn’t cool, it’s terrifying.”
“Weren’t we here to take some pictures?” Emlyn reminded me, ignoring Austin’s complaints. “For on our blog? Our readers will love this.”
“You’re right.” I had nearly forgotten
