Part One

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(Disclaimer: 

This work is not beta-read and there might be errors. This is a work of fiction. The cover was created by Maesthic.)

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Purring. It was gentle, consistent, yet eerily out of place. He couldn't pinpoint where it was exactly, and it comforted him, nonetheless.

Cats always had that effect on him.

Abandoned a decade ago by the previous owners who claimed to hear incessant banging at all odd hours, creaking stairs and attics with walls that wailed in their own agony from faded fingerprint outlined markings, and faint meowing when no cat was within visible sight. The house was suffering from the inside out and wanted its occupants to wallow in its misery.

It was the intrigue of the mysterious lore that surrounded the origins of this new home that gave Mile the push he wanted to purchase it. No conviction or hesitance; all up front with no intention of backing out. The locals had warned him, hell even the realtor had told him that the house was 'unsellable'; however, Mile personally relished the unknown. The potential to exposure to the paranormal was his cup of tea and he intended to brew the leaves, give them a little read as he had read up on 'reading tea leaves' as a pastime, and proceed to sip idly at the beverage.

He was currently doing just that as he crossed one leg over the other, seated comfortably on the couch as he watched the men that he'd paid to help unload everything into place. Boxes upon boxes were settled into rooms as designated by the realtor who was Mile's college friend. He could easily read the room that everyone, except him, were bothered by the tense atmosphere.

The movers were zipping around him at impressive speed, unpacked most of his belongings and trinkets he'd brought with him from the city, and didn't even bother to wait for a tip the minute they realized the house they were in.

"Are you sure about this Mile?"

"Natcha. Don't worry about me."

"When you said you were looking for properties to move into...I didn't think you meant somewhere like this," The woman stood there and barely moved an inch. It was like she felt rooted and afraid to go too deeply into the house again. She'd been given the keys to the property by the local government, toured Mile through it quickly when he came, and almost beseeched him to turn away. That she'd show him other properties; however, a little glint in his eye told her that he was sold on it. "I forgot you like weird things."

"Are you calling me weird?" Mile's eyebrow rose as he also gathered to his feet, brushed off any lingering dust that gathered in the small amount of time he'd been seated. Walking over towards the woman, he clapped her on the shoulder and laughed at her outright jump at the action, "You alright?"

"Don't you hear it?"

"Hear what?"

"The PURRING?!" She hissed at him.

Mile popped his lips, cupped a hand to his ear, looked around and pretended to not hear a thing. He had heard it, of course, but seeing as Natcha was already spooked to the bones if her trembling was reflective of her fright, he shook his head, "I don't hear anything. You said nothing has lived in here for years."

"Twenty-nine to be exact."

Letting out a low whistle, Mile peeked around as if attempting to allocate the noise to assuage Natcha's worries when a sound from the kitchen made her screech in surprise. He frowned and ran towards it instead of away from it, ignored her 'MILE!' as he entered the kitchen area. Glass on the floor. He clicked his tongue. One of his favorite vases for flowers, a green one with gold adornments, had been set on the marble kitchen top by the movers and somehow fell over. It was probably unstable to begin with and he sighed, "They ran off in a hurry because they did a lousy job."

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