Page 5

When it all came flooding back to me, I was impressed that I had slept at all. It felt like years had passed since I'd heard that horrible animalistic scream, yet it had only been last night, mere hours ago...

The banging came again. I froze, suddenly fearful that the phantom creature had returned, had followed me to this unfamiliar home. Fear surged through me. I was trapped in this room... Perhaps trapped with it... with no way out...

"Rachel?" Polly called, her voice sounding worried. "Are you okay?"

Hearing Polly dispelled my paranoia. I realized the banging was coming from the other side of the door. The lock clinked as it released, then the door opened just enough for Polly to peer in. "Ah! You're awake."

I nodded, my hand on my chest, trying to calm my erratic heart.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice no longer worried, but back to that calm sing-song. What had she been worried about when I hadn't answered right away?

"I feel a lot better, actually, after resting. Calmer." I emphasized the word to let Polly know that I wasn't completely gone like she obviously assumed.

"Would you like some breakfast?"

"Uhm... sure," I said, getting up from the bed.

Breakfast sounded nice; hunger was gnawing at my insides.

But the need was soon pushed aside the more my mind woke up, remembering the terrible details of last night.

Once again I began obsessing over the strange, hostile message that had been left on my computer.

Polly didn't notice my preoccupation and opened the door wider, standing aside to let me through.

"Actually, Polly," I began, trying my best to appear calm and collected.

Last night, tortured by the questions the message had raised, I had come up with a theory of its origin.

I wanted to test it, but I needed Polly's help, and I wasn't sure if she was willing to trust me.

.

.

but I had to try.

"I need something."

Polly stilled in the doorway, watching me with what looked like equal parts curiosity and caution, just like I'd expected.

"You did a great job of packing my things last night, but you forgot some stuff. I was wondering if we could perhaps stop by my apartment to get it." My voice threatened to tremble at the mention of my apartment, but I persevered. "It'd only take a second."

Polly continued to eye me, apparently hesitant to trust my sudden confidence, but after a moment, it seemed to work.

"Alright, if it's quick," she said with an edge, confirming my suspicions—she was still on guard, just in case I had another meltdown.

Forcing my lips into a smile, I grabbed my laptop from its spot on the floor next to my bed, and I crossed the threshold into the hall.

Polly closed the door behind me and locked it with a little ornate golden key, which I only now noticed hung on a long chain around her neck.

She slipped the chain and key down her shirt—away from the temptation for me to snatch it and run, I assumed—and stepped in front of me, beckoning to me with her hand.

She led me down the hallway and back out into the foyer.

Even though I hadn't thought it possible, the house was even more beautiful during the day, bathed in golden sunlight that streamed through the windows that flanked the bright red front door. As we walked towards it, I glanced into the rooms that led off the entrance hall. One was a study, another a living room, both furnished lavishly.

I looked over my shoulder at the large, sweeping staircase that led to an open landing on the second floor.

At the top of the stairs, I glimpsed a couple of the portraits, large paintings of two girls: one was a strawberry blonde and very pretty, and the other had a lot of flaming red hair and sharp eyes.

"Is that you?" I asked Polly, pointing at it.

Polly looked over her shoulder and glanced at the painting. She didn't respond, just made a face and kept walking. I felt like I might get whiplash from all the turning and gawking and I was doing, but I didn't get much chance to ogle.

Polly headed straight to the door, pulled the key from her shirt again, and used it to unlock the front door.

It had to be some kind of skeleton key; I didn't realize that they still made those... We stepped out into the bright day; despite the sun, the autumn air was sharp with cold. It was shocking but clarifying, and I breathed deeply with pleasure. Polly, however, didn't linger.

She was already halfway to her car by the time I righted myself, and I had to jog to catch up.

This time she didn't say anything as I tentatively approached the passenger door. I couldn't help but feel a little relieved; it had to mean she trusted me—even if just a little—again.

I had to keep this up.

As I buckled myself in and Polly started the car, I hoped we'd strike up a friendly conversation like we'd done a hundred times before, and we could put this stiff, awkward mood behind us.

But as I glanced at Polly, I saw it was unlikely.

Her jaw was clenched tight, and her steel grey eyes stared straight ahead as she pulled out of the driveway, as if she were determined to look anywhere but at me.

I leaned back against the leather seat and turned my gaze out the window, watching the luxurious houses blur past as we picked up speed. The silence of the car was stifling, so I tried to focus on what I intended to do once I got to the apartment.

I was sure there had to be some logical explanation for the eerie little text file that had been left on my desktop.

Last night, as I laid in bed tortured by the questions it raised, I had decided that my home network had to have been compromised somehow; after all, I hadn't taken the time to set it up properly in my rush to move in. Maybe I had a shit?disturbing neighbour—another one—that had exploited my connection and placed the file on my desktop just to fuck with me...

Of course, that didn't explain the noise, but that had to be a mere coincidence. Though it had been shaken, my steadfast belief that the supernatural wasn't real persisted.

The sound I had heard was probably just a dog on the street or a stray cat in the alley.

Somewhere deep inside, at the far reaches of my mind, a little voice poked holes in all my sensible theories, but I did all I could to ignore it.

I knew my explanation was a bit of a stretch, and it didn't explain my laptop's disappearing act, but I was too scared to admit to myself that my grip on reality was hanging by a string.

Lost in my daze, it seemed like no time at all had passed... until I heard Polly unbuckling her seatbelt, and I noticed we were right outside my apartment.

The street was dead, just like it had been during my first night visit; the building itself was completely still, and the upper floors were still dark, as was my apartment and the strange little shop beside it. No movement or light indicated life dwelled in either place...

Something about that thought made my stomach curl into a cold, hard ball, but I tried to play confident for Polly's watchful eyes as I strode towards the door to my apartment. I struggled to keep up the facade that I wasn't bothered by the events that had occurred here just the day before, and that I was keen on getting to the bottom of this.

Which I was, but that didn't mean that the thought of entering the apartment didn't give me chills that ran deep, burrowing right into my bones.

I reached into my pockets for the keys, but realized I didn't have them. Crap. After all this, after all my convincing, how could I have forgotten them? I was about to kick myself when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Here," Polly said, handing over my keys. "I kept them after I locked up yesterday."

I took them from her. I realized it was the first thing she had said to me since we had left her house. "Thanks..."

Putting the key in the lock, it opened without complaint. The apartment was dark, still, and smelled of dust; perfectly harmless.

I moved slowly now, anticipating an ambush at every turn, but nothing happened.

As I flicked on the lights, the place lit up happily.

I walked across the living room and, still, nothing.

Standing in place for a few moments, skin prickling, I waited for some sign, something to happen and tilt the balance of my beliefs.

It didn't come.

Polly did though, closing the door behind her with a bang. She watched me, assessing my reaction to the change in environment. I reverted back to my steely self, still trying to convince Polly that I was capable of dealing with this without some psychiatric intervention.

"What did you forget?"

"Uhm, I needed to do something to my laptop. Install something for homework," I muttered.

Polly didn't look too pleased that we'd have to stay here a little longer, but she didn't object either. She just nodded and went to stand in my kitchen, leaning against the counter so she could keep me in her sight.

I plunked my laptop down at my desk and sat in front of it. Pulling out a random USB key from a drawer in my desk, I popped it in one of the ports, and went about re-installing a program that I already had.

Thankfully, Polly wasn't close enough to read the screen. I moved the program's window to the side and began sifting through my security settings, scanning my drives to see if I had contracted any malware or viruses, anything that would provide some backdoor for a trolling shithead.

It was slow work.

The bar on screen that indicated the progress of the scan crawled at a pathetic speed, dragging the process out.

I really needed a new computer.

Perhaps I'd splurge and buy one as a present to myself once I was able to verify my own sanity, as some sort of reality check reward.

Polly fidgeted as she leaned against the counter in my kitchen. She looked uncomfortable, her face slightly scrunched in displeasure. Her foot tapped rapidly on the floor.

"Sorry, I know this is taking a long time," I apologized, half sincerely. Truthfully, it made me tense that Polly was being so impatient. I was playing nice, I wasn't inconveniencing her in some huge way; she was the one who—for some reason—insisted on being my guardian.

She shrugged, like she had barely noticed my apology and continued to fidget.

To ease the mood, attempting to behave as normally as possible, I got up to get myself a drink and left the scan to its own business. Walking past her, I opened the cupboard to retrieve a glass. I held one out to her. "Would you like a drink?"

Polly furrowed her brow, like that was the last thing she wanted. "No, thanks."

It was my turn to shrug. "Suit yourself."

I held the glass under the tap and let the water rush into it for a while, washing the dust out and waiting for it to reach a satisfying level of cool. Polly's fidgeting intensified for a moment, before she sighed loudly, exasperated.

"I'm going to use the bathroom. I'll be right back," Polly said, emphasizing the last two syllables. She darted around the corner and into the bathroom.

I scoffed as I raised the glass to my lips. So that was what was bothering her. Had she been holding it in this whole time? Was Polly really so paranoid that she thought I couldn't be left on my own for the two minutes it took to pee—

The glass flew out of my hand, sailing past my head and smashing into the cupboard behind me. I went rigid, my hand still frozen in position of raising the glass to my mouth.

What just happened?

The glass had broken... but I hadn't dropped it. It was torn from my hand. I had felt a pull on it as it left my grasp.

I was careful not to move, my ears strained to hear every sound. I could hear Polly in the bathroom, the muffled sounds of the toilet flushing.

"Polly!" I called for her, my voice shrill and shaky.

Her name had just passed my lips when I heard it. A growl, right in my ear. Quiet, yet invasive... I knew what it meant. I would be sorry for disobeying its order to stay away.

A sharp burning ripped through both my arms, and I screamed. I couldn't see it, I didn't know what it was, but it could understand me, and worst of all, it was real.

I heard myself sob, and my arms felt like they were on fire. It wasn't in my head, I wasn't losing my marbles, there was something here, something beyond my grasp and it was after me... haunting me...

Polly rushed into the room, her eyes wide and fearful. They somehow widened even more when she saw me. I held my arms, trying to subdue the pain, but I followed her horrified gaze to see what had happened. Immediately, I forgot my pain and was lost in the sight.

Four identical long, red gashes striped each of my arms, blood streaming from each cut, dripping to the floor. I began to clutch at them frantically, glancing around desperately for something to stem the flow.

Polly's face twisted in anger; she looked like I had betrayed her.

"What the hell, Rachel?! I left you alone for one damn minute!" she snarled, grabbing my wrists and turning my arms up to examine the damage. The cuts didn't look as deep as I initially thought, but her touch still stung the tender wounds.

"Polly, Polly no, I didn't... I couldn't have!" I sobbed, my world crumbling around me.

"I knew it! I knew I couldn't trust you... You're exactly the same..." Polly wasn't listening to me or speaking to me; she was just muttering furiously to herself. She pulled the long sleeves of my sweater over the gashes.

She held them there for a minute before looking me dead in the eye. "Keep applying pressure," she hissed, her voice threatening, more vicious than I had ever heard it, more than I had expected she was capable. I complied because something told me it was dangerous to cross her right now.

As I pressed the fabric of the sweater down onto my wounds, the pale mauve turning scarlet as it soaked up my blood, Polly grabbed the waist hem of the sweater and dragged me from my apartment. We left my computer on the desk. I didn't care. I no longer needed to check it.

I had already gotten my answer.

?