The wind outside moaned in protest to the rising sun, which had broken through the fog with a vengeance and sat warding the clouds of its presence in the sky.
Jacob had searched the house from top to bottom, unable to find where Erin had vanished too. It was safe to say panic was setting in and his mind raced to find any possibility of her disappearance. The dust that covered the floor in every room remained untouched, aside from his personal boot prints.
She had been right behind him, as he stared down the hall, concentrating hard on a picture hanging on the wall. It had wrapped his attention and drew him, as the figure head stared back at him, smoothed by time and disfigured by the moisture of the old house. Although it was cloudy and questionably 50 years old, he could not shun the idea that the man in the portrait looked very similar to him.
When his thoughts rushed back and brought him from the trance of concentration, Erin was gone. He could not understand how she could just vanish, or why she would have left him along in the house without something terrible happening.
That thought did not help to settle his mind.
The house had 5 rooms upstairs, each Victorian in design and wrapped in age old wallpaper that was yellowing and crumbling with age and humidity. The downstairs of the home was wrapped in one giant semi-circle, first the foyer, which opened into the seating area, and across which lead to a study of sorts with a large oaken desk at its center. Books lined the walls of the study and appeared to be periodical listings of history and ancient wars.
Nothing in which drew Jacob’s attention with the absence of Erin.
He proceeded down the hallway into the kitchen, which sat directly off from a side dining room and a large open area pantry with old jars of miscellaneous canned foods, long past their due dates. He saw no doors leading to a basement and no trap doors leading to an attack above, though by the design and nature of the home, he was sure there had to be something above the second floor. Its large cascading pillars lifted a roof far above the ceiling of the second floor, though he was no architect.
Jacob decided, after resting a moment on the couch and thinking soundly, where Erin may have went too. He had not done a walk around outside and although it seemed pointless in the darkness, he now knew that dawn had broke and that the light outside would have drove those fowl creatures away into hiding for the time being.
One helpful thing Jacob did find was a gun. It was not a modern, lever action rifle with a 40 round clip like he had hoped, but rather a shotgun with a single shot chamber and rough wooden stock. It was aged and not kept clean with oils and showed some signs of disrepair and rust, but it was crafted well and luckily he had also found a couple boxes of copper plated rounds, which were sealed and in perfect condition.
He strapped the rifle across his shoulder, using some old rope he found, and ventured out the front door onto the porch. Across the driveway, there was a barn with a stable at its front. It was an open area, with old ropes and hooks hanging from the wooden roof that arched in the front and provided a peak in which the horses or cattle could stay dry if a storm hit too quickly.
The open access carried the smell of decayed hay and straw across the yard and Jacob decided that that was the best place to start his search. As he left the porch he felt a wave of déjà vu come over him. It was not the subtle, “I remember something like this” feeling but rather, I remember this exact event. It was strange and catching to the tune of paucity.
Jacob continued on, more pressed to find Erin than to worry about the smaller nuances that seemed to occur almost hourly on this island and place. He entered the side of the barn and took note of the various barrels and rotting farm tools. In truth, the whole barn seemed to be ready to cave in at any given moment and that left Jacob wary about continuing too deep into the darkened corners of the 30 foot high ceiling.
“Erin!?” Jacob called out, and heard no answer in reply. He turned to walk back out when a face appeared in the upstairs bedroom of the home. It was the face of a girl, around 10 years old. Its eyes were not sinister or evil, but rather those of pure and true terror. Her face looked oddly familiar.
Her hair was pulled into a tight pony tail. He began a quick pace towards the front door, and as he did so he saw what looked like a shadow, appear behind her. It was larger than any normal person, but held a shape similar to one. He watched, frozen and unable to comprehend what to do. He wanted to run up to the second floor and try to help her, but he somehow knew that if he did, he would not find her or that thing there. It was as if he was watching an old movie screen, and the things within were not to be found when you turned your head away, if only for a moment.
The creature wrapped its long fingers over the girls head, and squeezed at the top. Jacob watched as blood ran down her forehead, the look of fear on her face suddenly replaced with pain. He saw its nails scrape and dig deeper into her flesh. He watched as her body went from fragile and full of life, to limp and lifeless before his eyes. The creature studied Jacob, shadowed by the darkness of the room behind.
Jacob suddenly remembered the gun on his shoulder and brought it up, thanking himself silently for loading one bullet into the chamber beforehand. He brought the tiny metal ball at the end of the barrel above the girl, and fired. The hammer struck the bullet with a vengeance. The bullet sailed through the air at warp speed, cutting through the glass of the window and shattering the image like a TV screen on impact.
What was left in the window was not a little girl, or creature, but rather emptiness. Silence followed the echo of the gun shot, that bounced off of the neighboring hilltops and filled the valley with the sounds of fluttering birds.
In a quickened dash, Jacob jumped onto the porch and headed up the stairs. He took each two at a time, and ran straight into the first room in which lead to the window he had just witnessed the entire event within.
He went to the window, staring down at the glass underneath his boots, and as he gazed upon them, one larger piece still remotely intact held within it an image of a girl. Her eyes were now closed and her body was limp. Her face no longer showed fear and anguish, but rather the peaceful look of death.
Jacob went over to the bed and sat down. His heart was still racing and his eyes began to water uncontrollably. He placed his hands over his face and cried. The anger, fear, and stress of all that had happened to him finally took its bony grip on his mentality and erupted with pure and raw emotion. He cried, wailed at times, for the situation he was in. He cried for Erin. He cried for his daughter which he may or may not ever see again. He cried for the little girl who he had just seen murdered; though in the weirdest of circumstances. Most of all, he cried for the tiny flicker of flame that he had ignited, that tiny strand of hope that was quickly and harshly burning out.
As if on cue, a muffled moan sounded from within the walls of the room. It was feminine, or at least appeared to be so. The wallpapered room was not entirely in the square shape one would usually find in old farm houses, or rather in most houses. Jacob looked about the room, for once taking in the architectural design of the room and something was off.
He went to the first wall, nearest the door and began running his fingers along the wallpaper. He came to a crease just feet from the window. A crease that either signaled an exposed board for the wall, or a door behind the wallpaper; and Jacob had his assumption as to which is truly was.
He pulled a knife from his belt and began to cut along the crease. He shoved the point where his fingers pressed deep into the crisp and yellowed wallpaper and followed it to the floor. He pried with his fingers at the rough texture and eventually and crudely a square door began to take shape. There was no handle, and instead the door itself seemed to move on a running metal strip on the floor. He slid the door, with all of his strength off to the side and with a loud crash it toppled out onto the floor. Dust flew up and saturated the room in a brown cloud of particles.
Jacob stepped back, coughing and bringing his forearm up over his face to shield himself from the inevitable barrage of dust and debris. The dust settled moments later and all he saw was a rectangular blackness where there was once a wall. He could hear the muffled moans once again and stepped inside the gaping hole. Inside was another room, not as big as the one he was just in, but equally as grotesque with more floral wallpaper and another bed. This bed was much different though.
Leather straps held the braces in place, wrapped along the sides of metal bars that encircled the old mattress. The mattress was stained with large brown splotches and was elevated at an angle beside a small table. It looked like the table from the Frankenstein movies, though with less mad-scientist vibes. This was something altogether different. Jacob searched the room for any signs of the source of the muffled sound, hoping that it was Erin and that she was without injury.
Erin was nowhere to be found. Instead there was another door off to the back of the room and a large cast iron padlock held it fast to the wooden framing. As Jacob walked to the edge of the room, a familiar and putrid smell hit him hard and he turned at once to see the boy, staring at him from beside the bed.
“Hello Jacob.”
“Who are you?” Jacob managed to squeak, the smell once again stealing his breath and causing him to swallow a small bit of stomach bile.
“I see your memory has not returned. I am afraid I cannot wait any longer for you to open your eyes to what is happening and what has already happened. There are things you need to know before you continue on.”
With a loud thud and cracking, the padlock fell from the metal ring that held it fast and in place.
Jacob turned to acknowledge the door and turned back to see the boy closer to him now; only a step or two away. Jacob attempted to back up, but the boy held out his hand and as Jacob watched, offered his palm in a nonthreatening way. As if by some force, Jacobs arm moved forward, his hand outstretched to take the boys and as he touched the cold and pale leathery skin of the boy, he fell to his knees.
The world around him moved through time like a reel from an old camera on fast forward. Lights whipped to and fro and burst into a blur of colors and sounds. The boy was no longer standing with him, or holding his hand, but he was lost and dizzy in the confusion and could not bear to stand up.
The lights stopped and Jacob saw a small girl playing beside a dollhouse in the far corner of the room. It was the same room he was in before, only this time the wallpaper looked newer, fresher and less faded by time. The house no longer appeared weathered by time, but rather stood fresh, clean and brilliant in appearance.
Jacob stepped forward and kneeled down beside the little girl; she was humming softly and combing the hair of what looked like a hand-made doll with long strands of yarn for hair. It had two large red buttons for eyes and a crooked stitched line for a mouth.
“Hello?” Jacob called out, and at once the humming stopped. The little girl started shaking slightly and Jacob suddenly realized he was a stranger in her room and that she might be afraid.
“I am not here to hurt you; it’s okay. Is your parents home?” Jacob said, trying to sound sincere and do his best not to scare her.
She turned her head towards him, staring with blue eyes through her long brown hair. She did not speak and in fact looked too afraid to speak, which Jacob thought was completely understandable considering he just appeared before her in her room with no acknowledgement or warning.
She pointed at him. Her small fingers were shaking and then put her head back down. Jacob stood up, alarmed by what she was pointing at and turned to look behind him. There was no one there. He turned again and the little girl had turned back around and was playing once more with her doll.
“Is someone else here with us right now?” Jacob said, with obvious fear rising in his heart and mind.
She never turned back around and continued to play. Jacob did not want to press her and he did not want to frighten her any more than she already was so he walked out of the room and back into the bedroom. The four poster bed was now covered in fresh linens and a neatly folded quilt. The wallpaper was in pristine condition and looked freshly applied to the wooden walls. There was now a small desk beside the window and on top of the desk sat a vase with a freshly picked yellow flower within it.
Jacob walked out into the hallway and stood just above the foyer. The staircases wrapped down along both walls, each with paintings and portraits in a semi circle along the border. The wooden craftsmanship of the railings was exquisite and exhibited a talented artist that knew his art well.
Jacob walked down along the left side, taking note of some of the portraits as he passed by.
What or where did the boy send me?
He made it to the first floor landing just in time to see a familiar face in one of the portraits. As Jacob studied it closely, the others took familiarity as well. It was a portrait of him, sitting in a chair. Standing beside him was Erin, her eyes fixed in a tight and almost forced smile and sitting beside her was the girl he had seen upstairs.
Jacob looked back up to the second floor and noticed the little girl was peaking through the railings watching him. Her eyes were solemn and sad, with a tinge of fear and knowing. It was as if she expected something.
He heard a loud crash outside and walked to the window beside the front door. Outside in the barn a man emerged, one who looked exactly like him. His eyes locked with Jacobs across the yard and he broke into a run. Jacob stepped back, confused and alarmed and unsure as to what to do or where he should go.
The man entered and looked right passed him up to the top of the stairs. His eyes held within them an evil Jacob had never seen before, an evil that was estranged and at the same time, familiar.
The little girl stood and backed against the wall, afraid and cringing. Jacob watched in horror as the man went up the stairs and stood on the landing, waiting for what he knew would happen. The little girl looked back down at him and tears appeared on her cheeks as she waited for the inevitable to happen. The man raised his hand and just before he brought it down on her face the room once again began to swirl in a mixture of bright lights and mixed colors.
The room returned to a rough and un-maintained foyer with crumbling wallpaper and layers of dust and cobwebs.
Jacob fell to his knees, his emotions burning within him. He felt the anger and savage nature of what he had just witnessed and wanted to strangle the life out of that man for hurting the child. Then he remembered, as if by some Twilight Zone event, that that man was him.
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