The House on Clamoribus St

Chapter 8 - Jamie

The cat danced around my sneakers with a interested purr. I didn't think ours was a friendship that would outlast the night, but I was still grateful to have him there. Being alone on a dark, misty night, stranded in the middle of no where, was even remotely included on my bucket list.

    A howl erupted from the distance. An icy chill danced over the grassy lawn. An owl hooted from a near by tree. All signs that an impending doom was just waiting to stereotype the hell out of looming death. “Oh for the love of Captain Kirk,” I sighed. “My imagination is going to kill me long before a chain saw flinging maniac does.”

    The cat purred again, by now he was in the lead, “meeeow.”

    “I'll have you know that I don't fancy your tone fur ball!” I scolded, skipping over a loose stone that just barely poked from the grass. “People rarely kill off cats in the movies. It's always the lonely little dork with no self defense skills. I'm doomed doomed. Like rea... What the heck?” I sprang to avoid another stone. Like the first it was well hidden in the overflowing grass.

    “What is this, a rock garden?” The combination of fog and poor landscaping made it impossible to tell when the next rock would appear until I was almost stepping on it. “You would think the owner would've wanted to include some lanterns out here. Whats the point in having a lovely little rock garden if your company can't enjoy it?”

    Another rock shot out of the ground, this one bigger then the other three.

    “Must be an old ladies side hobby. These rocks aren't even remotely proportional.”

    Already my mind was adjusting to make room for the new image of a crazy cat lady living in a mansion with a handful of elderly servants. Most of the halls were probably in disrepair, and there was a huge likelihood that the place would smell like old cabbages.

    “Maybe she'll have some fig newtons.... Man I have the serious munchies.”

    Another rock came and went, this one almost big enough to reach my lower calf. “Now that is just tacky,” I muttered, leaning down to press a hand to the cold stone. “Someone really should have helped with structure.” My finger's pressed down onto the surface, I had thought it would have been completely smooth but strange groove danced along the tips.

    “Are these words?” I squinted down. Words would've made perfect sense, having seen more then enough rock gardens with the occasional motivational plaque. I let my fingers continue to glide, expecting Shakespeare or Frost, but instead three letters held deeper grooves then the rest.

    RIP

    “HOLY FUDGERUCKERS!” I shot back from the stone, practically crossing myself as I did. “It's a cemetery!”

    The mist was still thick enough to cake the ground in an icy blanket, but now, expecting to see them, my eyes took in an abundance of haphazardly skewed stone relics. They were everywhere. Each one announcing the passing of a living being.

    “No way!” I shouted to the cat. “No friggin way!”

    “Meeow.” The feline retorted with boredom.

    The house was a jot away, but at that moment I really just wanted to go back to the car. What sort of people kept a cemetery in their own front yard?

    “We should go back,” I told the cat. “Maybe we'll be safe hiding in the trunk. By morning my Dad would surely have already called the police, wondering why we haven't called with an update yet. The car is chipped, they'll find us.” The assurance wasn't so much for the cat, but for my own self. “Yeah....lets....”

    A fresh howl shot from the woods with an unmasked fervor. It was much louder then it had been before, as if the creature who emitted it was suddenly growing bold enough to come nearer to the house.

    It was unsettling enough to make me bolt, but not for the car as planned.

    No.

    I was going straight for the house.