It was a cold and bleak November night, with the wind howling and rain beating at the window panes of my small-yet-classy Victorian house. It was a little run-down, I was only renting it, but with a little love it could've been a rather appealing dwelling. At first, I had wished to buy it some day, but something felt a little off about the house. Floorboards with creaks akin to the wretched screeching of broken souls and vintage photographs that adorned the the fading floral print of the walls. One time, I could've sworn blind that the stoic woman portrayed in the early 1880s photograph that hung in the main hall had looked at me, her usually glassy and far-off stare appeared fixated for a moment on me. Maybe it was my imagination, but an unknown force in my mind urged me to believe otherwise.
Despite all this, however, I was beginning to feel at home in the house frequented solely by myself and my black cat. As I washed the dishes from my dinner that evening, my mind was focused partially on catching up on the newest episode of Backstabber, the chilling murder sci-fi drama that had been my obsession for the past month and a half. The rest of my thoughts were taken up with studying for my degree in scientific anomalies and paying that electricity bill. God, being an adult sucks, I thought, judging myself thoroughly on my shitty bar tending job. It pays the bills. That had become my mantra for surviving the myriad of odd jobs I'd had over the past year. From evening entertainment to creating horrendous concoctions for the alcoholics that frequented my current place of work, my life was less than perfect. I had, however, a glimmer of hope. If I suffered through this year and made it out alive, I'd have my bachelors' degree and I could move to California or somewhere idealistic where life was seemingly less complicated.
As these thoughts filled my head and took me to the sunny west coast, I
remembered the dish I had been scrubbing vigorously. In my fantastical dreaming I had forgotten I was still scrubbing said dish, and the enamel was now already scraping off, thanks to the Brillo pad I had insisted on using to rid the plate of tomato stains. I groaned, and began to dry the plate off.
Presently, Shadow, my feline companion and sole housemate, padded into the room and leapt with grace and agility onto the counter adjacent to the sink I stood next to. She once again began to stare at me, or rather behind me. She hadn't done that since... no.I was being paranoid. I quickly banished from my mind the horrid thought I had conjured. Even still, the same force that willed me to become suspicious of my house had willed me not to ignore this, it had to be a sign of something, I had that gut feeling which was hardly ever wrong. It has to.
I scolded myself for that last thought. What was I playing at? Twenty-one years old and still indulging thoughts of the supernatural actually existing right out in the open. The supernatural that did exist kept themselves well hidden, for fear of persecution. Humans liked to destroy what they couldn't comprehend, and nearly all magical kinds gave them just a tad more than a wide berth. I suppose you'll be expecting a letter from Hogwarts soon as well then, I thought. If only all my problems could be fixed by a half-giant with a magical umbrella.
I once again brought myself back to reality and far away from my vivid imagination and idealistic thoughts. Shadow was still staring at me, but was now emitting a low, growling sound. That, I recognized as a warning not to be taken lightly. Cats are perceptive animals, I mused, so something must've set her off.
No sooner had I thought this, however, there was a loud BANG! that interrupted the dense silence I had grown temporarily accustomed to. Damn power cuts, I thought, feeling just a little more than right-and-royally pissed at the world. And I actually pay my bill! Ohoho, there better be a good reason for this happening three times in one month! Before I could begin to feel sorry for the poor sucker who would be at the receiving end of my (apparently rather terrifying) wrath, the surrounding atmosphere enveloping me in the seemingly endless, suffocating darkness.
