Staring into the Brink: A Collection of Abysmal Tales

237: A Night on Crowd Road - Part 1

The sky is dark, as it has been for quite some time. The sun disappeared hours ago, leaving to wake the people of the neighbouring hemisphere. This night is darker than usual, being less spiritual and more ominous. There is no silver glow from the moon, nor any pale specks from the stars. These cosmic staples are blocked out by the gigantic cloud looming overhead.

There is a storm raging tonight, which is adding chaos to the usually serene scene. The trees are violently swaying and trembling from the gusts; creaking and threatening to come crashing down with every blow. Lightning cracks through the sky, giving brief glimpses into an illuminated day. These glowing cracks in the air are swiftly followed by a dense bellow, reverberating through the Earth's core.

The rain is coming down hard, creating an audible thud with every drop. On its own, it wouldn't seem like much, but on a rainfall like tonight, the sky is making its own symphony of percussion. With each drop landing on separate textures, the sounds are immeasurable. On their own you would be able to hear the subtle difference. But with the speed and force of their downfall, all the sounds blur together in a rapid overlay.

In the middle of the storm is quiet little road in the suburbs, Crowd Road. This road is one of the few in the area that isn't surrounded by fully developed land; instead it still has the traces of nature around it. The curvy, short street is flanked on either side by uniform, cookie-cutter back split houses. To most, the uniform nature of the houses would seem unoriginal and boring, except to the residents who have personalized what's inside. To each family, their own is as unique as themselves, and this sentiment holds true for the house of fifty-four Crowd Road.

Fifty-four Crowd Road, the Carlisle residence. They bought this house when it was only in the developmental stage and were the first family to move in on the road. In fact, they are the only original family left on the street. In June of 1999, the Carlisle's, Ethan and Sarah, moved in with their three-year-old, Richard, and quickly made this house into a home. There have been many memories in this house, most of them were great. Most, but not all.

Currently, the only person who is occupying fifty-four Crowd Road is Rick Carlisle. While he doesn't live on Crowd Road anymore, he was asked to stay a couple nights to check in on the house while his parents are away; his father is on a business trip and his mother is visiting her sister on the other side of the country. Rick didn't mind, as it gave him something to do on this weekend. This is where he grew up, and he always had fond memories of this place.

He was sleeping on the couch in the sub-basement, lost in a deep sleep. The sounds of the rain were always so soothing and relaxing to him. His parents had offered up their own bed for him to sleep in while they were gone, but he opted for the couch.

Since he moved out last year, his old bedroom had stayed unfurnished. His parents offered to put another bed in there, so Rick had a place to sleep when he visited, but he preferred the couch. Ever since he was little, he would get uncomfortable if he slept on a single surface for too long. He figured out that if he slept on a couch occasionally, he could surpass this problem, especially during a rainy night like tonight.

The natural sounds of the thunder never bothered Rick. He knew that it woke some of his friends up, and it always woke up his dad, but never himself. His mom used to joke that there could be an intruder in the house, and it wouldn't make Rick stir out of his REM cycle, comparing him to a comfy house pet. He would laugh it off, often replying with,

"Well we don't have to worry about that here, so what does it matter?"

It sounded cocky, but it was true. They lived in a quiet suburb in a calm city in Canada. Rick did understand that cities like Winchester could see a rise in home invasions due to the residents letting their guard down, but he still wasn't worried about his parent's house. When he was a kid, they installed an alarm system. A system that was updated every few years, and one that kept the inhabitants feeling secure.

The alarm had one downside though; whenever it close to the time to update it, it would go off for no real reason. The system only monitored the doors and windows, so there was never any risk of the alarm going off from movement inside of the house. Rick was young when they first had the system installed, but he remembers when it went off for the first time. He was about ten years old, and his family was having a movie night. They were mid way through an animated comedy film when the alarm went off.

At first, the Carlisle's thought the loud, obnoxious beeps were coming from the movie. That thought only lasted a couple seconds before Rick's father paused it and they all realized that the alarm was real. Mr. Carlisle jumped to his feet as he raced upstairs grabbing a lamp from the nearby end table as he raced by. Mrs. Carlisle embraced her son in fear, but also in maternal protection. The pair waited in the sub-basement as they heard their family patriarch explore upstairs. They listened intently, awaiting any noise that would give away any altercation.

After three, excruciatingly long minutes, the duo heard the alarm turn off, and shortly after Rick's father returned downstairs, lamp in hand with the most perplexed look on his face. He walked to the table to return his oblong weapon and turned to his family.

"There... There was nothing wrong up there."

"What do you mean there was nothing wrong? The alarm went off!"

Rick's mom stood up and spoke with her husband, while Rick sat there, staring at the frozen image on the TV.

"I checked all the doors and windows, there is nothing open, broken, or even askew."

"So, what does that mean?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. You and Rick should continue with the movie; I'm going to call he company and see if they have any idea about what happened."

Turns out, there was a little bug with the system. Since the Carlisle's never had any intruders or incidents, they never had any reason for maintenance on their security sensors. On occasion, the sensors would detect a bug, or an over-abundance of dust as breaking the sensor, thus making it go off.

This started the Carlisle family getting routine maintenance done on their security system, and if they ever forgot, the alarm would randomly go off, signalling that they needed to be cleaned, or replaced.

When the alarm went off on this rainy night, it did wake Rick from his deep sleep. At first, he thought it was just a dream. But after the blaring persistence, he groggily sat up, with two thoughts simultaneously entering his head.

"They really need to get a new system so that this doesn't happen anymore." And, "Wouldn't wake up to a home invasion, my ass!"

He slowly stood up, feeling the creaks in his arms and legs as he gave a giant stretch. There were a couple loud pops in his back and knees as he did this. Feeling limber, he climbed the stairs to the alarm panel to put in the alarm's "shut up code", as he liked to think of it. Rick entered the six-digit code, each number producing its own little happy chime as he did so. Once the sequence was fully entered, the panel made a satisfied ring, and the alarm was off. The sequence was one that his parents would never let Rick forget, thus it became ingrained in his memory forever.

062499

The day that fifty-four Crowd Road became the Carlisle residence. Rick knew that in similar situations, people would use birthdays or anniversary dates for a six-digit code, but his father didn't want that. Partially because it was a little obvious, but partially because it was a well-known fact that the Carlisle's took great pride in their family home, so that date made a lot of sense to the family.

Rick closed the panel and slowly walked back downstairs. He was still in a lethargic haze from being abruptly woken up and was habitually rubbing his eyes as he approached the staircase. He descended the stairs and laid back down on his makeshift bed; his head hitting the pillow with a soft thud. As Rick Carlisle drifted back to sleep, he didn't hear anything but the sound of his own breathing mixed with the rain.

If he paid more attention when he went to the alarm panel, he would have noticed the patio door's curtain swaying with the wind from the storm. He would have noticed the broken glass in front of the locked, sliding door, and the sleek shards resting around it. He would have noticed the oddity of it all, and known that the alarm wasn't random this time. He would have felt the panic crawl through his chest as he searched for the culprit, and that panic would have risen into a deep fear when he saw the figure that was standing in the corner of the kitchen, waiting for Rick to notice it.

But alas, Rick didn't pay attention to any of this, and was completely ignorant of the scene on the floor above.