The Tunnel

Chapter 1

Present Day

"It's only for a week, Peter". His father's voice drowned into the background as Peter watched the trees blur past outside the car window. "Besides, your mother and I need a little vacation getaway and we don't get to do that very often."

"Peter, are you even listening....Peter!"

'Hm? Yeah" the boy mumbled, his eyes still focused on the scenery. "I just don't get why you couldn't leave me at home. I'm fifteen, I don't need a babysitter."

His father sighed, "Your grandfather is not there to babysit you, he's there to spend time with you." Plus we don't want to come home to the house in flames."

Peter slumped back into his seat and grumbled. "You try to use the stove one time and never hear the end of it."

"I haven't seen grandfather in years, what are we even going to do?"

"My father isn't really the social type, he likes to keep to himself ever since Gabe went missing all those years ago."

His father was silent for a moment, "But I'm sure you guys will hit it off."

The car turned into a winding road that led to a big white house surrounded by overgrown grass and weeds. It almost looked abandoned.

Peter gazed at the sight, "It's creepier than I remember it."

"Me too..." His father agreed.

Standing in front of the double doors was Peter's grandfather, or so he thought. "He's creepier than I remember too."

His father was not amused at his joke which made Peter's stomach sink a little.

The old man walked up to the car over to the passenger's side. "Hello there son."

"Father." "Thank you for agreeing to take Peter for the week. He can be a handful."

Peter rolled his eyes at the demeaning comment.

"Well I have a lot of experience with handfuls now don't I son?" The grandfather wheezed at his own retort, which Peter couldn't help but find amusing.

"Well what are you waiting for boy? Come on inside."

Peter grabbed his bag and slowly stepped out of the vehicle, wanting to stall the moment as much as he could. "Tell mom I said bye, okay?"

His father looked him in the eyes to reassure him, "I will, it's only a week son, it'll be over before you know it."

And surely, before Peter knew it, his grandfather was leading him into the old house, while his father drove off, ready for his cruise.

Peter was in shock at how much the inside of the house contrasted heavily to the outside. Lavished in beautiful furniture and antique paintings, it resembled a small castle in Peter's eyes.

"You must remember where all the rooms are, don't you?"

"Vaguely, I mean I was four the last time I was here."

"Right well, let's give a little tour then, shall we? Just head right up those stairs, I'll meet you in a moment, my knees aren't quite as good as they used to be."

Peter smiled awkwardly at the joke and started for the stairs.

"Alright, right down there at the end of the hall is where you will sleep."

Peter nodded intently and followed him to the other side of the house. On the way, they passed a room with lavish double doors which quickly caught Peter's attention.

"I don't remember this room and I feel it would be hard to forget." Curiously, he went to push the doors open but was stopped by a firm hand, blocking his way.

He felt as if the old man's eyes were piercing into Peter's soul, which made his stomach drop for the second time today.

"This room is off limits. It is my private office and I don't intend on sharing it, is that clear?"

Peter's throat was dry and could barely make out his response, "Y- yes Sir."

"I'm glad that we are on the same page. Now why don't you go to your room and get your things unpacked, dinner will be ready soon. Hope you like fish." The grandfather said sternly.

Peter quietly walked away with a bad feeling in his stomach. It was going to be a long week.

And he hated fish...