Monster Stories (Melancholic Euphoria's Tumblr Stories)

Dreamcatcher Albino Drider: Levi

Made of Silk

It was the smallest of noises that you heard above you: the groaning of old floorboards, the continuous presence of something that you could never find, always sounding so large yet so minuscule. You could confirm that your great-aunt Fern's old home was haunted, but you were the person to always be in denial.

She had this place for a long time, it wouldn't come to anyone's surprise if your speculations were true, especially in light of her passing. With no other children or relatives that were on her will, the inheritance and house she had lived in for more than 50 years fell into your hands, and you didn't take a second to pack your bags and move in.

Her home may have been full of dust and full of more antiques than life, but it was the one thing of your family that meant so much to you, especially when you felt so much more like a burden to those you knew, and having this place instead of it being sold or given to another one of your relatives meant so much.

You remember so much to the house with its blue-grey bricks and oddly shaped corridors that were great for running around in, but your attention was always for trying to up to the attic. The attic hiding spots would've been perfect in your eyes... if your aunt Fern had allowed you.

You protested and whined, but you were always quick to try and get up there without fail and always never succeeding - being whisked away and told how unkempt it was up there.

There are many things up there, some that you will understand when you're older, but for now, go seek play in the garden, it is sunny today. She would remind you, and you would naively forget everything for that visit until the next and next one after.

It would be sunny and the rays would warm your back as you played, but you enjoyed the comfort of silence, the lack of light as you want to seek darkness.

Maybe it was the lack of attention you got as a child? You enjoyed your own company the older you got, enjoying times to play with yourself whilst your siblings got your family's love – your friends chatting around you and never seem to add you to their conversations.

You never cared too much so they noticed, but the one who seemed to notify you and seemingly cared was your great-aunt.

Her illness brought her wits to falter and for her delusions to fester: the kind lady you had known for the majority of your life withered into nothing more than a shell of a human being within months, her passing had been the hardest on you. Which was why you took the offer of owning her home before anyone else could. This place shall be my resting place if it has to be, but it shall be my home like hers.

The smallest of noises brought your attention, but you dismissed them at first to the old house being so rusted with age, life had come and gone and you didn't surprise that it needed more tender care. Old homes like these keep the warmth even when not much was left, but they stay true and loving no matter what. Aunt Fern kept this place in the best of conditions when she was healthier, and you wanted to get it back to that wonderful state.

Then, things started disappearing. You would go to sleep and wake up to things that had been moved or things that had gone completely. You would turn off your radio to be startled awake with it playing downstairs in your kitchen when you had been certain that you had switched it off at the plug.

For months, you tried ignoring it whilst fixing the house room by room, before it slowed consumed you from the inside out. Where you going insane just like they said about Aunt Fern? The disappearances grew more frequent and you slowly believed that you were forgetting things.

The delusions and denials grew into anger then confusion then slow acceptance, having it eat at you like a storm consuming the land. It hurt to dream, the nights of sleep that didn't help to silence the growing sounds and things moving and emerging someplace else, but the one thing that didn't help was that you believed it all.