✞IRIS ➳ TATE LANGDON ✞

✞CHAPTER 2- HAUNTING✞

"You put a fever inside me. And I've been cold since you left. Cause I came here so you'd come for me. I'm begging you to keep on haunting. I know your gonna keep on haunting me"
~"HAUNTING" HALSEY

OCTOBER 20, 1996
2:27 AM

The day was almost over before I knew it. Hell, we got there at sundown. Trouble sleeping isn't usually a task that hinders me. But it is when something...someone is haunting me. Something about his smirk, the way he winked. It just won't shake out of my head. But also the vibe he gave off. A dark, alluring aura. Probably the same gloomy feel I give off. But I can tell by the look in his eyes. The slight emptiness.

He's seen things. Felt things. Done things. But one question remains unsolved. How did he get in? Why was he there in the first place? I feel as though I may never sleep unless my questions are answered. Rolling to my back, I see Kurt remains awake with me. He doesn't fall asleep until I do. Never has. I begin to kinda feel excited to go to school tomorrow. The slightest hope that I will see him.

But why was he so shy? Why was he in a hurry to leave? I must have scared him away or something. You best wish you did. The voice had always made me just wanna scream, but this time I just ignore it. My brain functions are too busy focused on another topic. I inhale a big sigh, closing my eyes. My attempted slumber is interrupted all too quickly. A thumping sound.

Kinda like a basketball tumbling off a shelf and bouncing against the concrete. And the sound is coming from under me. Actually, almost as though it's right under my bed. What's under me too? I might be above the dining room, but what's under that? Basement. The word is a breathy whisper inside the depths of my mind. I roll over onto my feet, picking up the bottom hem of my nightdress.

A lit, scentless candle lays atop my night stand. The wax drops down the radius like teardrops. I crack the door open a slight bit, peering on both sides. My father snores in the room down the hall. It couldn't have been them. Backing up, I step back in the dimly lit room. I cup my hands around the candle, holding it almost against my breast. I must look I belong in a 1970s horror movie. Large candle, long white nightgown, exploring throughout a Victorian style horror house. Murder house.

The halls are almost pitch black, besides the moon casting its light shone through the various windows. The oak boards beneath my bare feet, creak at my light footsteps. I head down the vast staircase to the first floor. The living room remains still, the kitchen, lifeless. Then the door catches the corner of my eye. Basement. To be honest I completely forgot about the basement. Of course all old houses have basements.

Shifting the candle to my left hand, I place my hand against the cool brass knob. Turning it ever so gently, I pull it towards me. The old wood squeaks and screams. Hinges need to be greased or something. The black whole that meets my eyes is the most jet dark scenery I've ever seen. I lower the candle to see where I should exactly step. Someone could be face to face with me and I swear I wouldn't be aware whatsoever.

The steps almost buckle under my feet. If I fall through these steps all for a mouse, I swear it'll be dead if ever get to see it. The soles of my feet make contact with the icy concrete. Solid, level ground. I scan the area with the candle, holding it slightly in front of me. Brown boxes litter the ground along with a corner infested with dust bunnies and spider webs. "What the hell could've fallen?" I whisper out loud. Almost as though my question was answered, a green ball grazes my right foot.

"Ahh it was you." Hunching over I picked up the forest green ball. Wasn't much bigger than my own hand. But where'd it come from? It almost just appeared out of thin air. To my left a jar smashes, leaking a moldy liquid onto the the gray flooring. Everything appears to be happening on cue. The supernatural darling. I've never really thought about that option before. Of course that topic highly intrigues me. Never really believed in a heaven or hell, but always the fact that a soul has to go somewhere.