The House on Clamoribus St

Chapter 6 -John

Chapter Six

John

I entered the house through an old green door from the mudroom. It was cold inside and my jeans were still wet from falling in the woods. I held my breath and listened. Creaking sounds like the house settling come from all around, but nothing out of the ordinary. I exhaled and looked around. My phone light in my jacket pocket illuminated the dark hall. It looked like a kitchen to the right and a living room to the left.

“We have a phone in the kitchen and the living room,” I whispered. “Let’s try the living room.” I turned left and moved down the hall. Soaking newspapers covered the floor in the hall, each too water damaged to read. I entered the living room and looked around. A sofa slumped over a carpet in front of an old TV in the room. Fog curled into the room through cracks in the boarded up windows.

“That looks like my old TV,” I said.

Something walked heavily out the room’s other exit. My light shined on it in time to see a tail turn the corner. I jumped into my karate stance and took in several deep breaths. “Just a dog. Or that stupid cat. But it looked like a dog. Go away doggie! I did four karate courses on YouTube!”

Nothing. No more walking sounds, no breathing, no barking. I shined my light around the room. The loveseat in front of the TV looked more depressed than ever. Wait, loveseat?  I thought. “Wasn’t that a sofa? Never mind. I’m losing it.”

I walked as quietly as I could to the other side of the room. Strong winds howled outside and I swore I heard thunder. There was nothing in the next room over, which appeared to be a ruined play area for children. I turned back to the living room, remembering my mission to find a phone and froze when my light hit the back of the couch. Where the loveseat had been was now an old recliner. And someone sat in it.

“Hello,” I said. “I’m sorry to bother you. I didn’t mean to intrude. My name is John and I’m looking for my sister and her friend.”

The couch creaked as whoever sat on it turned their head. I couldn’t make out any features, but I pressed my back against the wall and moved along it to get a better look. My light was almost on the person when the TV turned on.

I looked at the TV, then back at the recliner. It was an empty sofa again. My heart was racing. Someone spoke on the TV, but the audio was terrible. It looked like a home video recorded with a shoulder top camcorder.

A woman’s voice seemed familiar and I swore I knew the kids on the playground. The footage was grainy, but I knew what was about to happen. Because I was one of the children playing on the equipment.

“No, no, no,” I said as memories of me and the little boy and girl flooded my head. The girl was Jamie, my stepsister. Who was the boy?

I ran from the room, back down the hall, ruining wet newspapers as I sprinted into the kitchen. I stopped and looked around. The room was white and black tiled in a checkers pattern. An old fridge that looked like a converted juke box sat open on one side of the kitchen, and pots and pans lay scattered on and around on old stove. It appeared they had fallen from their hanging wire above the stove.

On the wall by the kitchen’s other entry was an old black phone. I took the receiver and thanked heaven when I heard a dial tone. I dialed 9-1-1 and waited. The phone rang twice and a man picked up. “Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”

“Hello, my name is John, my stepsister Jamie and our friend Starlight got in a wreck and we need help!”

“Where exactly are you?” the operator said.

“We are about an hour outside of Houston. A tree fell and blocked the road so we left the highway. I think we’re on Clamoribus Street.”

“Clamoribus street? I don’t have that on any of my maps.”

“It intersects with Bragg Road in Saratoga,” I said.

“I see,” the operator said. “Do you realize that it’s against the law to prank call an emergency line?”

“What? I’m not pranking you. We’re in trouble. My car is a mess. We crossed an old bridge and broke it.”

“Old haunted Bragg Road?” the operator said. “No roads intersect with that. This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny,” I said. “Something weird is going on here.”

“What if I told you a secret?” the operator said.

“What?”

“What if I told you I have your sister and her friend,” the operator giggled. “I have her here. With me. And she isn’t okay.”

“Look you may think I was messing with you, but that’s messed up,” I said.

“John, John, John,” the operator said. “I see the kitty gave you a good scare. I thought I was a pretty solid guy until you ran into me.”

I looked around the kitchen, trying to think. “Who is this?”

There was a creaking sound from the ceiling as if someone were walking on the floor above me. “You don’t remember me, old buddy?”

I hung up the phone, panting. I picked up the phone again and dialed home. After several rings someone answered. “Hello, this is dad.”

“What?” I said.

“I mean mom?” the operator said.

“Who are you? Where are you? What do you want? Let my sister go!”

The man laughed as if I’d told a mildly funny joke. A loud clanking noise came form behind me and I shot around. The pots and pans fell one at a time form their hanging line.

“No! Those were already on the ground!”

Another sound came from upstairs. “I’m coming for you,” I growled into the phone, then dropped the receiver and ran for the stairs.