Yeah, you can start over you can run free
You can find other fish in the sea
You can pretend it's meant to be
But you can't stay away from me
I can still hear you making that sound
Taking me down rolling on the ground
You can pretend that it was me
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝑰ntroduction ౨ৎ 🍓｡˚🍰♡ ˚₊‧ ︎
In towering dark tree trunks, a 1,380-square-foot cabin stood hidden behind overhanging branches. Clumped bushes cast shadows over the barely visible pebble trail, with new plant growth emerging through the small rocks. The home had been there since 1979 and had new owners coming and leaving within a year. This two-story home has a three-bedroom, three-bathroom, with an outdoor patio. The house seemed like a dream come true for $127,200. However, townspeople whispered about an evil spirit lurking within its walls, patiently biding its time to claim new owners.
Deep, soft hoots resonated from an owl perched above, observing a couple stealthily as they made their way up the cabin's stairs. The owl's pupils dilated as the couple exchanged laughter and giggles while attempting to break the lock on the rustic entrance door. With a long, jarring creak, the door swung open, inviting them into what appeared to be abandoned.
"Are you sure about this? I mean, we could've done it in the car," As Sally flipped her red hair over her shoulder, she surveyed the dusty house. The furniture was covered in thick plastic sheets, neatly arranged in its proper spots. Ripped spider webs hung from the ceiling, swaying gently in the soft breeze that wafted through the home. The pungent odor that filled the air was earthy and meaty, reminiscent of wet socks or rotting wood. It was an intense smell that caused Sally to grimace in distaste. "The car is too cramped, plus you said you wouldn't mind having sex in a haunted home," David said with a smirk plastered across his lips. In front of the fireplace, David hastily removed the plastic wrapping from a cream-colored leather couch.
In the dimly lit house, Sally searched for a light source. Freshly chopped wood rested above the cold ashes, but there was nothing to start a fire. Light switches were broken, and some windows were covered in brown paper. "I'll see if I can find something upstairs. Just stay here and get ready," David said before he kissed Sally's cold cheek and bounded up the creaking stairs.
She slowly walked from the center of the kitchen to the couch, her arms wrapped tightly across her body. She first slipped her feet free from her heels, then fell onto the sofa with a loud thump. Sally flopped down, only to lift and curl her thin fingers around the sides of her lace panties, pulling them down her slim hips with ease. Sitting back down, she curled her thumb and index finger as she unhooked the buttons from her dress. "David! Hurry up. My mother will throw a fit if I'm past my curfew." She said, her tone laced with annoyance.
" Hold on!" He replied while quickly stumping through each room. Sally's eyes roamed the house more, and she noticed an open can of corn. The sweet syrup oozed from the can, seeping through the cracks in the wooden floor. It looked fresh as if someone had just opened it. Ants swarmed over the kernels, their tiny black bodies covering the yellow food. She was so engrossed in observing them that she didn't realize David's stomping feet had fallen silent in the cabin.
A sudden thin stream of red liquid trickled through a crack in the wooden ceiling and dripped slowly onto the back of Sally's head. Startled, she lifted her head and stared at the ceiling. Crimson droplets fell onto her face, staining her pale skin. It might have been something rotten upstairs, and its foul juices were dripping. But the more she smelled it, the more she detected a faint metallic scent. She felt a sudden tight knot in her stomach. She placed a hand over her belly as her heart beat so loudly she could hear it. With a sense of unease, she felt her veins throbbing. A voice in her mind urged her to leave, but she remained seated, waiting for David to descend the stairs, anticipating his usual self-assured smile.
"David?" Finally swallowing the large rock in her throat, she waited. No answer, only a long, deafening silence.
Sally bolted upright, her feet instinctively carrying her toward the stairs. But before she could take a single step, something sharp pierced through the back of her neck and emerged from the front. Its shiny gray surface was covered in her blood, slicing through her throat like butter. Her skin split in half, and blood poured out like a waterfall, staining her soft pink sundress. Her green eyes shed streams of tears as they stared at the ceiling. With her lips dry and cracked, Sally's mouth moved in a desperate attempt to draw in air, but no relief came.
As the knife was pulled from her throat, her body fell to the cold, hard floor. A tall, dark figure loomed over her, staring down as her blood pooled around her head. "Please, I- I'm not ready to die," she choked out, spitting up blood from her lips. The figure stepped over her like she was nothing but dirt, slowly walking up the stairs and leaving her to watch ants crawl toward an open can. "I'm not ready," she whispered before death overtook her.
─ Two years later: A strangers diary
─
Dear me,
I feel trapped like an animal stuck in its cage. This alcohol isn't working, and my body is slowly disintegrating from the long dreadful hours of sleep. Nobody has bought the home since 1983, newcomers are scared of dead spirits coming from beneath the ground and haunting them. I've been haunted since 1952, thirty-five years of misery. I covered the windows with black fabric when I was seventeen, hiding myself from the face of the earth. Nobody knows my name, nor has anybody seen my face. Everything I do is in the dark, stealing food, watching strangers roam through the cabin, cleaning up, reading anatomy books, and feeding the animals. Sometimes, I even pass out underneath the patio. It begins to become boring, but I am trapped in this cycle of pain that I am not ready to come out of.
Yesterday, a real estate agent, brought a woman by. She looked young like she was in her mid-twenties. She was dressed in a white lace maxi dress with her long, raven French girl braids pushed back by a white headband. She spoke when she was spoken to and kept her hands behind her back as she took in the home. I heard the real estate agent say that her father always spoke of his daughter loving a home like this and that he made a down payment before dying. That explains why nobody has lived here.
After a while of listening, I learned the girl's name was India. She was more oblivious than I thought. After she moved in, I would take her alcohol, steal cans, and sometimes even take her pottery. Sometimes, she would even forget to give her golden retriever food, so I fed him at night without anyone knowing. I didn't like her at first and felt like she was stupid, but the more she stayed, the more I grew interested in her presence. Why is she quiet like a mouse? What is with the large fish tank for only a few fish? I'm not sure, but someday I will have the answers.
Authors note 📝 : Like it? I did some good research, so hopefully, it's as good as I imagined it would be. I feel bad for Sally and David. They could've been a great couple, but that's what happens when you roam around at night. Anyways
