The PickAx House

(Chapter 5) The Attic

1.

Day 2. Thump, thump, thump. Tim's eyes opened. All he could see were red beams of blurry light that slowly sharpened and almost intertwined. 12:12 a.m. the clock read. At first, he was not sure what had awoken him. Had it been a bad dream? No, I do not think so, he thought. Though it would make sense given everything that has happened. As he laid there thinking about his actions trying to make sense of it all he was filled with a flood of conflict, which flowed back and forth between anger and guilt. It was an accident. She knew that! She lay next to him as if nothing had ever happened. The warmth of her body still radiating off her. Oh, how he wished it had never happened, as he slowly smelled her. It had happened and that look, that look she had on her face like, like I was a monster! He thought. I would never hurt them. I would do anything to protect them, give anything, but still they look at me like a monster. In my own house. What about the footsteps? What do they think? I just made them up or maybe I'm just going crazy. Yeah, they probably think I'm just getting old and senile. I just imagined the footsteps while I was butchering the animal...because I'm a monster...monster. They wouldn't know a monster if it was staring at them!

Thump, thump, he sat up and looked up. The attic, that's what woke me up he thought. Suddenly his ears started ringing loud, very loud! Which gave him a piercing migraine almost immediately. Tim had grown used to violent migraines during his life. His doctor said they come on strong during the stressful times. That's it I've just been stressed out lately he thought, as he stretched over and grabbed his prescription pills off the nightstand. He popped them in his mouth one by one and started chewing them. Another habit he had picked up from his migraines. The taste bitter yet satisfying. They had become an acquired taste. The kind of taste you start off disliking but after a while find yourself craving because it made you feel better. Chewing them always seem to make them work faster, he thought. It was kind of like the taste of whiskey the first time he had tried it. He thought it was disgusting but, after a while he found himself starting to look forward to that old familiar taste that was going to take the edge off. He reached up and covered his ears with is hands trying to block the noise from outside, but the noise came from the inside.

Thump, thump, thump came from the attic. He looked up again realizing he had been awake for a while and lost track of time. The clock now read 1:11 a.m. This was the third time he had heard footsteps coming from the attic tonight. No, he was not imagining this. Then suddenly the ringing stopped and for the first time since he could remember he could think clearly. He could see the whole picture. The footsteps in the snow, the butchered animal, the noises in the attic, everything that didn't make sense started to fall into place. He had not checked the attic! For days now, he had noises coming from up there and just chalked it up to be some kind of rodent trying to stay warm, but he had never checked. Not yesterday morning when he was awoken and not that afternoon when he was looking for a trespasser. Hell, I didn't even check the basement, he thought. The trespasser could have been hiding in either place!

2.

He stood up walked to the corner of the bedroom slowly, quietly unlocking his gun cabinet and took his flashlight and Remington 12-gauge shotgun out. He started to load it and stopped. But what if I'm wrong. What if I wake everyone up and scare them and there is no one there. Then they are really going to think I'm losing it! This is my job to do. He continued to load his shotgun and then quietly left the room. The house was still. Still but not quiet. Outside the wind from the snowstorm howled and screamed, on the inside the house creeped and moaned. The house was old, and Tim knew the old familiar sounds of his home. He knew what he had heard. He thought to himself how the screams of the wind sounded like lost souls in pain. He quickly but vaguely searched the home to make sure his family was safe before heading to the basement.

Opening the basement door, he shined his light down into darkness, piercing it with a beam just small enough to try to make out the stairs leading down. Gripping his gun tight, he smirked. Step by step his anticipation grew, excitement like a hunter stalking his prey. Step by step until finally he was in the belly of the beast but, to his surprise nothing, no one was there. Disappointment took him with disbelief. He collected himself and remembered that this is a good thing. Now to the attic.

Tim stared up at the long dangly string with a ring on the end for your finger to go into, that was hanging down from the ceiling. His anticipation returned, he pulled the string to release the stairs that now led up into the dark void. As he started creeping up the stairs, as quietly as he could, he found himself nervous to stick his head up into the darkness before he could see what was there. Imagining someone was there waiting on him and as soon as the top of his head popped up, smash, the sharp pointy end of a pickaxe entering his skull, turning his lights off for good. The thought made him cringe a little, but he continued up the stairs. This is my job he thought, I'm going to do my job! No one is going to disrespect me.

Now he was up far enough for his eyes to see. He looked around raising his flashlight, it's more cluttered than I remembered he thought. Things left from generation to generation packed up and boxed, Christmas decorations, old mattresses that needed to be thrown out and a man-made path through it all but no one waiting on him with a pickaxe. As he made his way up into the attic, he heard thump, thump, thump. He quickly turned shinning his light and gun towards the man-made path. He could not quite see the other side through all the stuff. He quietly pointed his riffle and started walking through the path until he heard another thump, thump, thump directly in front of him. Shinning his light up he realized it was the small attic window unlocked and now blowing loose by the wind. He let out a laugh with an instant feeling of relief that washed over him.

3.

He started walking toward the window to lock it, wait, what the hell? He thought. Realizing there are small round holes in the wall beside it. Confused, he started looking around and as he went to lock the window, he seen a man standing in his yard looking away from him. Just standing there, staring towards the fields, holding a pickaxe! Holding his shotgun in his hands, squinting with his eyes, trying to make sure what he was seeing is real. "Hey!" he screamed. The man never turned around. Suddenly the winds outside stopped, and all went silent.

Out of the void behind him he heard someone breathing. A cold shiver ran down his spine turning his blood to ice as he felt the breath on his neck. The breathing stopped... "Shhhhhhh" someone whispered in his ear! Before he could turn around his eardrums felt like they exploded with the loudest ringing he could imagine. Blood trickled out. He quickly turned to see who was behind him but, when he turned around no one was there, and the ringing stopped.

Now he can hear the wind blowing strong outside, He looked down and he is holding the pickaxe in his hands. His eyes widened as sweat poured down his brow. He felt that he was in a fog, a dream, this could not be real! How could he have the pickaxe in his hands right now? He tossed it up a few times with his right hand while still holding it with his left to feel the weight of it. To assure himself that he was holding it in his hands but, what about the man, he thought. He turned back to look through the window, no one was there!

4.

Suddenly he was blinded by the light reflecting off the locked window shinning in his eyes. Mary's voice slowly came into focus "Tim... honey...are you okay?" He turned around to look at her holding his shotgun now back firmly in his hands. He stared at her with a loss for words and a bewildered look on his face. "Yeah, I just came up here because I heard the window blowing around making some noise. Then when I got up here, I saw the holes." "What holes honey? And the windows locked." He slowly turned fully aware of what he was going to see but still having trouble coming to terms with it. The holes were gone, the pickaxe was gone, the blood was gone, the window was locked. He turned back towards her, took a deep breath and said "Yeah, I locked the window, it was open, and I was worried the snow would blow in and rot holes in the floor." Mary's eyebrows frowned a little. He wasn't sure what she was thinking so he smiled, walked towards her and said "Honey it's just for precautions. It's no big deal, let's go back to bed."