The Henhouse

June 7th, 2019 - 1:02 AM

Justin was ashamed it had taken him this long. Not to figure it out, but to work up the courage to confront it.    

And he still couldn't even do it without Casper by his side. Casper, the 5-foot ginger with a stutter. Yet somehow, his presence made Justin feel more comfortable - confident, even.

Justin's fingers drummed against his thigh again before they scratched behind his ear. His foot tapped the chocolate floors. Where was he-?

The door handle jiggled suddenly and Justin forced his heart from his throat back into his chest. He took a breath and unlocked the door, cracking it open.

"Justin!" a voice hissed from the darkness.

Casper crawled in and Justin closed the door behind him.

"Remember that thing about being quiet and all?"

"I know, I know.... S-sorry. I'm just ner- nervous. Well, e-excited, too. You know? It's l-like a TV show or some- something."

"Sure. Just keep it down from now on."

Doubt crept through the darkness to Justin's mind, not that Casper would notice.

"Are you ready?" he asked. "Just follow my lead."

"S-Sure."

Justin opened the door.

The Henhouse felt colder than past nights. It looked colder, too; all the warm, creamy colors of the daytime had faded to blue-grey, and an absence of hallway decór didn't help matters any. The atmosphere might have been great for a flash horror game, Justin thought... but standing there in the thick of it felt just about anything but entertaining.

Justin's throat was tightening more each second, his fingers spasming, flexing out and into his palm. It felt like public speaking, taken to an extreme. He leaned around the corner of the doorway to the living room. The footsteps continued to patter around the floorboards. Mixed with these was a clinking of metal, subtle and blunt, just like he'd heard on that first night – plus the next six. Justin kept his door open every time, listening carefully through the mist of his insomniac's daze in small hours of the morning, trying to coax himself out into the hallway. It never worked, but he'd at least figured out her routine. The noises always began at around 12:30, and continued sometime past 2:00, when he usually dozed off.

Somehow it just slipped through his voicebox, coming out of his mouth in a feeble croak: "Ivy?"

She didn't answer. Justin's heart skipped.

"Ivy?" he repeated. Casper strained to look over his shoulder, but there was nothing yet there to see.

Closer now than ever, Justin realized he could hear the fine creak of cabinets opening and closing. Mixed in with these were the faint sound of breathy whispers.

Justin had a thought. "Peter?" he tried, his voice sturdy now.

The whispers halted at once, and Justin knew.

Step by step, he inched slowly into the living room. The creaks and clinks grew more and more immediate as he and Casper neared the kitchen.

"Just- just wait, Peter, okay? It's only going to take me a second; don't be so boss-"

Ivy dropped her sentence as soon as her eyes met Justin's.

The pause that followed was almost unbearable.

Casper walked before Justin with slow, timid steps.