Leave This House

Day 5 - Ghost

When Becca finally opened her eyes, Iris was looking at her. Eyes a cool blue and hair wavy and blonde. "You killed him," Becca said.

"Yes."

"You lied. You went back on your deal."

Iris snorted. "I didn't lie. Solomon didn't keep his end of the deal. Madison was still quite alive. I had the opportunity to kill him and I took it."

"Is it your plan to kill us all, one by one? Did you kill everyone before me too?"

"Some. I can only come out during the month I was murdered. Then I have to go."

"Go where?"

"Nowhere," Iris said and then with a thought, "And everywhere. I don't know where I go. I only know during September is when I can come back and talk to people."

"You should use the time to help people," Becca said. "Get them away from Granny. Not kill them."

Iris looked at the floor. "I can't."

Becca raised an eyebrow. "It's not that hard to not kill people."

"It is for me." Iris rushed forward and grabbed Becca's shirt. "No one understands!" she cried. "I have to kill."

"Or else what?" Becca asked, hoping Iris would move back.

"I don't know. It's like an addiction. A ritual. I have to kill. Or else... I don't know!"

The basement door opened and Granny came out. She didn't look up at them. Iris pulled Becca to the bedroom. She closed the door. Becca backed to the bed and sat down. There was something tugging in her chest. Sympathy? She wanted to hear this crazy girl out.

Iris sat by her. She seemed very happy that Becca didn't move away from her.

"You said 'ritual'," Becca began again. "What kind of ritual. Do you have to do anything else?"

Iris thought a moment. "Only that I leave the bodies for mother."

"Did you learn to kill from Gr- your mother?"

"Yes! She killed my father when I was ten."

Becca winced. "I'm so sorry."

Iris nodded. "She made me help too."

"And that's when you learned?"

Iris nodded fervently again. "Mother always called it my first blood."

Pieces began to fall into place. Becca gave a silent prayer of thanks that she took all those psychology classes in high school.

"Do you want to please your mother?" Becca asked. Iris was quiet.

"She always hated me. She told me all the time. The only time she looked at me with pride was when I helped kill Father. After Father died, she began to take children. Kids my age. I began to help kill them too. It was exhilarating! Tracking them down then finally killing them. Mother was so proud of me too. But there was one boy after a few years of this, that was unusually hard to kill. He talked to me. He... loved me. More than Mother and Father ever did. Then Mother told me to kill my Joshua. My poor, poor Joshua. He was so handsome. But Mother wouldn't listen. I refused to for five days. Then, she threatened to kill me. So I had to. I killed my Joshua."

Tears began to roll down her white cheeks. But she kept reciting her tale.

"After I... completed the task, I told Mother. She then stabbed me." Iris pulled down her gown a bit and Becca could see the stab wound. Iris fiddled with the knife she had stabbed Solomon with then inserted it into the fresh looking cut. It slid in perfectly. Iris pulled the gown back up. The frills masked the protrusion of the handle perfectly.

"The last thing she said to me before I died was, 'I shouldn't need to tell twice.' I came back next year. She was very surprised but pleased. Now she could hurt and abuse me for a whole month out of the year. I soon discovered the more I killed during that time, the less she hurt me."

"And that's why you murder," Becca said. "It started out to just please your mother. Now it's a way to protect yourself."

"It might be a habit a little too," Iris admitted.

"Good thing bad habits can be broken," Becca said.

Iris smiled a real, happy smile. "Thank you so, so much Becca. No one has ever talked to me. Except for Joshua maybe."

"Didn't Corbin talk to you?" Becca asked.

"Not like this," Iris said. "But he will have to now."

"What do you mean?" Becca said, concerned now.

"Hi, Becca."

Becca gasped and looked around her. Corbin was sitting on the bed next to her. Becca jumped up and away from the bed. She faced the two not-quite-alive teens.

"Corbin?" she said breathlessly. "How-"

"I saved him from death!" Iris said excitedly.

"I wouldn't call it 'saved' necessarily," Corbin mumbled. Iris smacked him. His head bounced up a little before falling back on to his shoulders.

"But, you're here now!" Becca said. "You were dead! This is nothing short of a miracle!"

Corbin sighed wearily. "It might seem like that but Iris explained the terms of my death. I can only come during this month, like her, and I can't leave the house. When I'm not 'here', it's hell. The rest of the other people that lost their lives here. They're stuck."

"How are they stuck?" Becca asked, confused.

Iris and Corbin shrugged. "Something about the house, we think," Iris said.

"They wander about the house, moaning and crying. Bloody wounds seeping into their clothes for eternity. They crawl around on their hands and knees and try to grasp the legs of the living," Corbin said darkly.

Becca leaned forward. "Corbin, can you talk to Elvyne?"

Corbin frowned. "She can't see me. Or anyone else. Everyone is stuck in their own darkness. Only Iris and I can see everyone and visit 'here'."

"I am very sorry," Becca said. "Is there anything I can do?"

"If we figure out anything, we'll tell you," Corbin said wryly.

"But we can help you!" Iris said. "Corbin knows where the padlock key is!"

"The screwdriver," Corbin said, "Do you have it?"

Becca went to the dresser and opened the drawer. "Here."

"Those tunnels, go down them until the last set of stairs. The last room is completely empty. On the side of the stairs, there's a vent. Unscrew it and the key should be there. Then you're out!"

***

Becca held her breath as she slipped into the closet. If Granny was down here, she didn't know how many ways of escape there were. With the screwdriver clutched in her hand, Becca stepped over the boxes and into the tunnel.

She followed the stairs and held her breath as she came past the meat room. Her eyes scanned it involuntarily and her stomach heaved. The door was partially open and she could see Corbin sprawled out on the floor. His head was separated and lying a little ways away.

Becca ran down the other stairs as fast as she could. These were the last ones. And no Granny.

Becca crouched down and looked near the floor for the vent. Its paleness stuck out of the darkness like a sore thumb.

The screwdriver fit perfectly.