Page 3 of Hollow House

The walk home started peacefully enough.

I crossed my arms tightly across my body, the night providing a cool breeze and taking any remaining warmth with it.

From the road I was on, there wasn’t much blocking the view just beyond the small town. The one house beyond the outskirts sat on a hill, making it an easy sight to see. Its large presence remained year round.

The vague lighting of the gate to Hollow House glowed in the distance. The gothic mansion sat on a hill just outside town, and I could just see the start of the property.

Its eerie presence was like a shadow watching over everyone.

No one knew much about it, but everyone knew it was there.

When I was a child, we would bike out there just to catch a peek inside. We never saw much. Instead, we told stories about the things that happened in that house and tried to scare each other.

We were far from knowing the truth.

It wasn’t until I was far older that the rumors of the party of desires started circulating.

There wasn’t a specific person who could point toward it being true, but each Halloween, the property lit up.

Cars dropped guests off in the big half circle driveway, and the entire house remained completely alive until morning.

Then, the rest of the year, it was vacant besides the workers who took care of the property. Never once had I seen the person who owned the house. No one even knew their name.

A shiver ran down my spine, the cool breeze picking up and rustling leaves that had fallen on the sidewalk.

Only a few blocks from my house, movement to my left caught my eye, a blur I could barely make out down the alley I passed. I tried to take another step but froze, a shadow moving in my peripheral.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I turned fully to face the alley. Part of me was afraid I’d find someone waiting for me. Maybe I should’ve had Felix walk me.

My eyes glanced down the alley, my heart pounding in my chest, but there was nothing. No person or animal sat in the dark, only a trash bin and a few abandoned boxes outside the back door of a restaurant.

I blinked a few more times just to be completely sure. The stress of the job was getting to me. I moved on, afraid to linger much longer. It was growing pitch black out the more time I took to get back home.

My small yellow house sat on the corner of the block. The neighbors were returning home with their children for the night, and I gave a wave as I passed their driveway. It was peaceful in this section of town.

Mail poked out of the mailbox beside my front door. I emptied it, the metal clinking as the top flap shut. The mail shuffled in my hands, and I tried to maneuver finding my key while not dropping it. I pulled it out of my purse while managing to balance everything I held.

The door to my tiny house unlocked seconds after I stuck the key in, and I quickly shut and locked it behind me as I slipped inside, unable to shake the eerie feeling.

Silence was thick in the air, and I hung up my keys and purse on the little hooks next to the door. I had no pets or partner, no one waiting for me to get home.

A small thud sounded down the hall, and I dropped the mail. Instinctively, my eyes looked for the nearest weapon.The only thing I could find was a an old umbrella propped in the corner by the door. It would have to do.

I picked it up and slowly shuffled down the hall, trying to make as little noise as possible. The sound came from the kitchen straight ahead of me.

I couldn’t see anyone, but the narrow hall only showed me a sliver of the space. My heart pounded, and the more sensical side of me started to wonder if I should’ve called the authorities.

And say what? I heard a noise. I thought I saw a shadowy figure down an alley . That was a sure way to have myself questioned, my sanity slipping.

I shook my head.

It was probably nothing. Exhaustion and a tough day, that was all.

I poked my head around the corner, my breath catching in my throat.

Items sat on the island counter in the middle of my kitchen. The red in the middle left me breathless as I approached, my heart still pounding.

The rose sat perfectly placed in the middle of the counter, and I reached out to pick it up. A note sat underneath the flower,and I noticed my name written in cursive on the outside. A mask sat to the side.

My hand trembled, setting the flower down and lifting the note. This wasn’t in my house when I left for work, which meant someone had been inside.

Were they still?

The feeling of being watched crept back in, and my entire body trembled. My phone weighed heavy in my pocket, and the temptation to call someone grew. The tiny note remained firmly in my grasp.

My head whipped around, searching for someone, anyone, inside my home. I looked for whoever left it, wondering if they watched while I decided what to do. The black paper with white writing didn’t look threatening. If someone was watching and waiting for me to open it…

The choice was simple.

Pick up the phone and call the authorities before it was too late or open the note.

I knew what I should do, what any rational person would do.

But—

I opened the note before I could think it through. Inside was a card, the outline of a rose drawn on the left and three words written on the right. The writing was more like a rose gold engraving into the black paper.

“Answer the call.”

My heart stopped, the pounding gone, breathing no longer possible.

I dropped the note quietly back on the island.

My hands rose to my chest, clawing at it, begging myself to take a breath.

I tried and forced myself to take in straggling gasps of air.

After a few minutes, I managed something resembling ragged breathing.

I forced myself to pick up the mask. I knew what the invite was.

People would give anything to find those three words addressed to them. Only hours, before I had thought the same, but now, I stood in my kitchen trembling in fear.

What had I done?

I held the mask up to my face. The black material was adorned with gold. As I held it up, movement outside my kitchen window had me dropping it just as quickly. I ran to the back door and scanned the small, fenced in yard.

There was nothing there at first glance, but with the sun set, could I be sure of that? Shadows took up almost every corner of the yard. An extensive garden and a couple of trees throughout the space provided the perfect coverage.

I opened the back sliding door and stepped outside. Either adrenaline or stupidity drove me out the door. What was I going to do if someone was there? I had no protection beyond my two bare hands.

A snapping twig startled me, and I glanced in the direction of the sound. My feet slowly moved down the two concrete steps into the grass. Little blades of the plush grass rubbed my ankles and sent shivers up my legs.

I stood there for another moment, my heart practically in my throat by that point. The wind blew, rustling the trees, but beyond that, I heard nothing.

I backed slowly toward the door, keeping my eyes on the yard.

Nothing jumped out at me as out of place.

There was something there, though. I couldn’t explain it, the horrifying feeling that another presence sat in the shadows.

My heart raced, but I found my trembling had stopped.

If whoever was there hadn’t hurt me yet, I didn’t think they would now.

What did they want with me?

Was the invite to Hollow House my answer?

After a couple minutes of standing frozen with one foot in the door, I shut the slider door, giving up on seeing anything.

Instead, I turned my attention back to the invite I dropped. I picked it up again, turning it over and over in my hands. Was this even real, or was it a cruel joke?

Things couldn’t be that easy, right?

It begged the question: what did they want with me? Had my single day of poking around caught their attention? Felix had warned me the shop had ears.

He was usually right.

Maybe whatever took place at the pleasure house was something they didn’t want a journalist poking into. That fueled me even further to chase the article. Once I set my sights on a story, nothing stood in my way.