His Daughter

Chapter 25

Greg stared at the stairs, not believing what he was seeing. It was walking down the steps, born out of slaughter yet graceful like an angel. The entity emitted a soft white glow, making the surfaces glisten with dampness as it descended down; their bare feet making no sound. Greg felt shame rise up deep within him; something so regal and majestic about this creature made him feel like a fool, undeserving to look upon a being superior to any man walking the earth. As its feet touched the floor of the basement everything went still; the temperature dropping beyond freezing as the creature rose it's eyes to meet Greg's ones.

It was its house.

He was merely a guest.

It felt as if his heart stopped beating. Greg was floating in oblivion as everything stopped existing in that very moment. He was not in the basement. He was not in the house.

He was nowhere.

The place existed, in spite of being the very essence of primal emptiness.

The only beings in the space was him...and it.

Greg was unable to break the eye contact, hypnotised by the face devoid of features yet wearing faces of many. Its eyes scrutinising him, diving deep within his soul and making a judgement. A judgement that would weigh heavy on how this night would end.

Suddenly, the world went dark, but only for a split second. Greg was back in the basement, now once again aware of being bound to the chair. He struggled, trying to rip his limbs out of tape, having forgotten the uncomfortable feeling of the too-tight straps.

-Good evening Gregory.- the voice had spoken, making his head shot up. In place of a creature sat what looked like a girl, dimly illuminated by the light coming seemingly from upstairs. He couldn't see her features, only catching a glance of red hair; the colour clear at the edges of her silhouette. The voice was distorted, sounding as if multiple people tried to talk from the far side of a corridor.

The unexpected elation gone, Greg felt fear creep up into his heart as he stared at now what seemed to be a new form of the very same creature. The eery familiarness of the sight, somehow reminding him of Jenny, made his stomach queasy.

-W-Who are you?- he stuttered out.

The creature tilted it's head to the side.

-We have met already, but I suppose you know me as... Ginny?- It's voice suddenly changed imitating the recognisable rasp of pale girls voice.

-Or maybe Sally?- she rose her hand, pointing at the corner of the room like the sheet ghost.

- If anything...- she let out a humourless laugh .

-You could even call me Jenny.

His sweet daughter's voice rung through the walls of the basement. Greg squeezed his eyes shut; the noise making him severely uncomfortable.

-I apologise...- the entity spoke, now in its distorted voice.

-I suppose it's much less humours for you, than it is for me.

Greg opened one of his eyes, looking apprehensively at the creature. The lack of features, changing voices. It all felt... uncanny. This? This was mind-bending. There was something seriously wrong with the presence residing on the steps, making Greg's pulse quicken. It didn't seem threatening, yet Greg felt as if he was trapped with something so unbelievably dangerous, that one wrong move would cost him his life. His mind scrambled to find reasons to fear, pointing at the features or the unusual presentation, but none of them fit... at least not really. The fear felt somehow irrational, as if his brain and heart were at a serious disagreement about the situation. His pulse was skyrocketing; too loud in his ears.