The Internship

Chapter 9: Curiosity Killed The Cat

It's been two weeks—two whole weeks since I have been taken under a gardening freak.

"I want to teach you the ropes of killing people." Mara reminisced about the moment Greg recruited her, but now, a week has gone by, and by far, all she has learned is the difference between soils and which seeds best complement them.

She looks down at her hand, the garden edger weighing heavy in her gloved hand. She is sick of learning how to wield each tool and mostly remembering the names of said tools. Ugh! It's such a pain.

Mara looked around the basement room; it had grown on her. It's not as creepy now that she has spent most of her days here. In broad daylight, too.

The collective walls still creeped her out, though.

Apart from that, nothing really changed; the house still creaked under her feet, the dried blood smell was still there, and there was still no getting out of gardening lessons.

Mara placed the edger beside the planter and stood up from her hunched position, brushing off invisible dust from her jeans while doing so. Getting bored of the gardening lessons, she started to walk towards the basement exit.

Once she stepped foot on the old, creaking wooden staircase, faint music caught her attention. Her ears perked up at the sudden sound, and her footfalls faltered.

"Greg?" Mara meekly called out, "Is that you?" She walked out of the basement into the long corridor that peeked into the kitchen.

"Greg?" Mara called out again, her voice faltering with each step out of the corridor. The cold wind rattled the half-broken windows in the corridor, letting in cold gusts of air inside the already cold and empty house.

I take back whatever I said about getting used to this house. I am not. Absolutely not.

The kitchen was empty, but the warm melody of the music still flowed in her ears. Mara walked further into the kitchen, her eyes scanning for Greg.

"This is not funny anymore. Please, come out," Mara pleaded once again. She slowly crossed the kitchen to the open living room. The melody continued its soft hums throughout the house as if flowing from within the walls. Its gentle cords seep into the core of this broken house.

The floorboards continued to creak in complaint under Mara's heavy steps. The onslaught of spring winds swept by now and then, bringing with it pieces of fallen leaves, the faint laughter of neighboring kids, and the jingles of a creaking swing set.

With each step, Mara regretted coming out of the basement. The room was in the same broken state as the house's exterior; the old school wallpapers were clipped off in random, scattered patches, and dust and cobwebs blanketed the white sheets-covered furniture like a second skin. Her shoe-clad steps met the plush surface of a Turkish carpet, numbing the creaks in her walk. Specs of dust swirled around her like pixie dust, the tune vibrating under her feet with each step she took in exploring the house.

The gentle chords of the music humming through the walls pulled her deep into the house like a fish caught in a hook and being dragged to the surface. To a surface where an unknown world exists, ready to munch at her flesh and bones. But this unknown world is an abandoned townhouse with its glory covered in spider territories and the deteriorating state of negligence.

The tune continued to pull Mara, her feet unconsciously following the hum out of the room into the foyer. A tall and gorgeous chandelier greeted her, its crystal pendants twinkling in the sunlight coming through the windows from the open upper floor, casting a rainbow streak on the opposite wall. Her feet bumped into the beginning of a wooden spiral staircase leading to the upper floor. She peeked up the stairs; the warm glow of the afternoon sun from the windows shielded the upper floor from Mara's curious gaze.