House of the Damned
Never Alone
I really, really didn’t want to go back to the room that night.
But still I did. Out of perverse and morbid curiosity, I crept across the hallway, praying I wouldn’t be heard, and slipped inside.
He was waiting for me, it seemed.
The blood red orbs seemed to soften just a little when they saw me. But being just as transparent and as fleeting as Frank’s ghostly form, they quickly faded and were replaced by anger.
“I thought I told you to leave!” he growled, half to himself.
“You know I can’t,” I replied, still standing by the doorway, a few yards from where he was sitting chained.
“Look, kid…If you know what’s best for you, and for your friends, you’d run screaming from these God-awful premises. And I’d be the last one to stop you.”
“Why do you even care about my orphanage in the first place?” I snapped, frustrated. “It’s not like you know me.”
“Yeah, well,” he muttered, looking away. “It’s not all that fun being locked up all these years. But there’s one more thing.”
“What?” I pressed.
“C’mere.”
As I stepped forward, he stood up and leaned against the corner. It was almost comical, this old apparition with a death wound relaxing as if he was chatting with an old friend. My questions seemed to have opened him up a little.
“Remember what I told you? About the woman?”
“Mmm.”
“I wasn’t kidding when I told you she’d get you all.”
A slight shiver ran down my spine. “But if she kills everyone that stays in the house…Then why aren’t there any other…people like you…?”
“Oh, there are,” he said, grimacing and dipping his head. “You need to open your eyes more, Karen. We’re all there. I hear them yelling and banging around a lot. Some of them have gone mad—well, all of them really. I’m the newest one here.”
“But why can’t I hear them?”
He stared up through the pearly locks that had fallen across his face. I felt like I was being scrutinized and had to look away.
“What d’you think? Not all of us like to be heard…but I can always hear them. I’m the only one who ever tried talking to anyone, well, still living, as far as I know. I’ve never really tried holding a conversation with any of the others. Did you know that one of them is in your room?”
As an afterthought, he added, “But I guess it’s all right. She doesn’t scream as much as the others.”
Half an hour later, I had to leave or risk being exhausted by lessons again. Frank seemed disappointed.
“Come back again, okay?”
“…Why?”
“Dunno,” he shrugged. “It’s…nice, I guess, to be able to talk to someone. And if you die, do it here, okay? It gets kind of lonely.”
But still I did. Out of perverse and morbid curiosity, I crept across the hallway, praying I wouldn’t be heard, and slipped inside.
He was waiting for me, it seemed.
The blood red orbs seemed to soften just a little when they saw me. But being just as transparent and as fleeting as Frank’s ghostly form, they quickly faded and were replaced by anger.
“I thought I told you to leave!” he growled, half to himself.
“You know I can’t,” I replied, still standing by the doorway, a few yards from where he was sitting chained.
“Look, kid…If you know what’s best for you, and for your friends, you’d run screaming from these God-awful premises. And I’d be the last one to stop you.”
“Why do you even care about my orphanage in the first place?” I snapped, frustrated. “It’s not like you know me.”
“Yeah, well,” he muttered, looking away. “It’s not all that fun being locked up all these years. But there’s one more thing.”
“What?” I pressed.
“C’mere.”
As I stepped forward, he stood up and leaned against the corner. It was almost comical, this old apparition with a death wound relaxing as if he was chatting with an old friend. My questions seemed to have opened him up a little.
“Remember what I told you? About the woman?”
“Mmm.”
“I wasn’t kidding when I told you she’d get you all.”
A slight shiver ran down my spine. “But if she kills everyone that stays in the house…Then why aren’t there any other…people like you…?”
“Oh, there are,” he said, grimacing and dipping his head. “You need to open your eyes more, Karen. We’re all there. I hear them yelling and banging around a lot. Some of them have gone mad—well, all of them really. I’m the newest one here.”
“But why can’t I hear them?”
He stared up through the pearly locks that had fallen across his face. I felt like I was being scrutinized and had to look away.
“What d’you think? Not all of us like to be heard…but I can always hear them. I’m the only one who ever tried talking to anyone, well, still living, as far as I know. I’ve never really tried holding a conversation with any of the others. Did you know that one of them is in your room?”
As an afterthought, he added, “But I guess it’s all right. She doesn’t scream as much as the others.”
Half an hour later, I had to leave or risk being exhausted by lessons again. Frank seemed disappointed.
“Come back again, okay?”
“…Why?”
“Dunno,” he shrugged. “It’s…nice, I guess, to be able to talk to someone. And if you die, do it here, okay? It gets kind of lonely.”