by Brian Harmon
Now another thought occurred to Eric. “Wait… I thought the resort’s been closed the past forty years.”
“Thirty-six years, actually.”
Eric stared at her, astounded by what she was suggesting.
Isabelle lifted her hands in a mock expression of shock and said, “Surprise!”
“You’ve been here for thirty-six years?”
“Yep.”
“So you’re… What? A ghost?”
“Not exactly. I don’t think I’m actually dead. I’m just…different now.”
Eric sat there. It was difficult to imagine. “How did it happen?”
“I went nosing around where I shouldn’t’ve. Found my way into the kitchen stairway. Altrusk always said it was his personal wine cellar. Off limits. But there wasn’t any wine down there. I wandered out into the yard here, same way you did. It was all a big, incredible adventure until I found a way inside. Then I got real scared real fast. It was crazy terrifying. I don’t even remember most of it. I just remember screaming.”
Eric felt a shiver creep through him.
“Then I was just here.”
“And you’re aware of how much time has passed?”
“Yeah, that’s weird too. I’m aware of time. But I don’t actually feel time. It doesn’t have any effect on me anymore.”
“Weird.”
“I know, right? I think I’m only aware of time because I still have a connection to my family. I can constantly feel my parents. I can get into their thoughts from here. I can see how time passes through them.” She paused for a moment and stared down at the floor, her pretty smile gone. “I was with them when I first disappeared, when they went through all that hell, but they don’t know it. They’re still alive today. They still think about me every day.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She made herself smile again and gave him a little shrug.
Suddenly, Eric recalled his conversation with Taylor. He said something bad happened at the resort, something that closed it down. He said he didn’t recall what really happened, suggesting that there were multiple stories, but apparently it was that a thirteen-year-old girl went missing.
He looked down at his phone, considered it. Then he lifted it and snapped the girl’s picture. He wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted the picture. Maybe there was something he could do for her. Assuming he actually survived this house of horrors.
“Are there others like you trapped here?”
“Yeah. But they won’t come out. They’re too afraid of Altrusk. Some of them are afraid of you, too.”
“Me?”
“People just don’t come here. Ever. This place doesn’t even exist to people. So you must be a bad thing.”
“I see. But what makes you different from them?”
“I’m not sure. I think it’s just that I refuse to give up. Like I said, I can still feel my parents out there. I have to keep thinking there’s got to be a way back to them. Over the years I learned some things about the house.”
“But you never found a way out?”
She hesitated. “I might have found one way. But I’m too afraid to try it. There’s a room hidden somewhere in the house. You couldn’t get to it. You have to be…like me. There’s a doorway there. It doesn’t go anywhere else in the house. I’m sure of that. But I don’t know where it goes. Every time I’ve tried it… It hurts. It’s like an electric current. It cuts into me, makes me pull back. I can’t stand to go in. And I don’t have the courage to force myself to go through because I’m not even sure it’s really a way out. It might actually kill me, instead. And I just can’t do that to my parents.”
“I don’t blame you.”
She gave him a sweet smile. “So what about you? What are you doing here anyway?”
Eric laughed. If only it was as simple as nosing around where he wasn’t supposed to be. He told her his story, beginning with the dream and ending with him stranded inside this house.
“That must’ve been Altrusk you saw in the mirror. Sometimes he appears like that, just standing there for a second. I don’t know if it’s something left of who he used to be or what. He doesn’t last long. He kind of flickers through the house like that and then disappears back into it.”
“That’s weird.”
“Totally.”
The two of them fell silent. Eric reflected on all that Isabelle had told him and was surprised to realize just how easily he’d begun to accept these things. He began this day by rationalizing every odd thing he experienced and cramming it into whatever form of rational logic he could make himself believe. The recurring dream that filled him with terror and woke him with a driving conviction that he must get out of bed right now and leave, that there was somewhere he desperately needed to be, could only have been some form of repressed emotions, perhaps nothing more sinister than a subconscious desire to get out and see the world before he grew too old. The woman hanging her laundry, Annette, was only an old and addle-minded widow whose nonsensical ramblings were not prophetic, but merely coincidental. Even the barn was a fabrication, an optical illusion, a game of special effects. Even when he knew that his explanations no longer made sense, he clung stubbornly to them because these things simply could not exist. And then he met the wardrobe monster. Grant. The coyote-deer with their amusingly oversized heads. And all that had transpired to lead him here, to this queer little room. He was not forced to accept every word as God-given truth, but he was forced to accept that he did not have a rational explanation. Whether Grant and Taylor and now Isabelle were telling him the truth or not, it was the only explanation he had.
If he survived this, he was going to have an entirely new respect for all things paranormal and strange.
“He’s gone up to the library.”
“Altrusk?”
She nodded. Standing up, she said, “That’s at the far end of the house. Top floor. He’s still looking for you, but he’s calmer now. So is the house.”
Eric was now on his feet, too. He was pleased to hear that the house was calmer. That was good. Apparently.
“We may not have another chance. He doesn’t like coming down here, but when he doesn’t find us anywhere else, he eventually will.”
“Okay then. What do we do?”
“I’ve been able to open some of the doors here a few times, even though I can’t leave. Some have been easier than others. We’re going to head for the parlor. I’m not sure why, but that door’s always been the easiest for me. If I can get it open, I think I can get you out. But we’ll have to hurry. He’ll feel us before we can get there, but I know the house well enough to make it a fair chase.”
“Are you sure I’ll be able to leave?”
“No. I’m not. But I know Altrusk used to come and go before he was completely changed. I’m hoping you can, too. Besides, it’s the only chance you’ve got.”
There was no arguing with that logic. “So if I don’t make it, I could end up stuck here like you, right?”
“You could,” she admitted. Then, hesitantly, she added, “Or you could die.”
Eric nodded. “Okay then.”
Isabelle opened the door and peered out into the hallway. Finding it clear, she took his hand again. Her skin was warm, solid. Nothing about the feel of her revealed that she no longer existed in this world the same way he did.
“Hold on to me,” she told him. “If we get separated, you won’t stand a chance.”
“Got it.”
She looked up at him now, her eyes soft. “By the way, if you do end up stuck here, I’ll keep you company. Even if you’re crazy.”
Eric smiled down at her. “That’s…lovely,” he told her. “Thank you.”
She smiled brightly up at him and then led him out into the bedroom through which they’d entered the electrical room.
Chapter Thirteen
Isabelle led him by the hand through the empty bedroom, across a hallway, into another bedroom and through the bathroom door into what proved to be n
ot a bathroom but a very large garage.
“He’s noticed us,” she warned.
“Already?”
“He’s a part of the house now. It’s kind of hard to keep things from him.”
“How long do we have?”
“Not long. But he’s restricted by the house just like we are. Weird as this place is, you still can’t walk through walls.”
They ran through the empty garage as a low, strumming reverberation began to rise in the walls around them. Upon reaching the far door, they passed through it and emerged from what should have been the linen closet of a small bathroom.
Trippy.
Out of the bathroom, through another bedroom and into another hallway, where they raced to the far end, opened a bedroom door and immediately ascended a wide set of stairs as the whole house began to tremble with a warbling, muffled tone that Eric once again realized contained words that he desperately did not want to hear.
A door at the top of the stairs deposited them in a large dining room.
“We’re almost there.”
“Thank God.”
They ran through the dining room and directly into another bedroom, into a closet and up another flight of stairs as the unnerving thrumming rose into a terrifying roar of voices.
“We have to hurry!” screamed Isabelle as they burst through one last door and into what must have been the parlor that she described.
There were large windows spaced all along the outer wall and a pair of matching French doors directly in the middle. Isabelle led him to this door and then let go of his hand as she seized the handle. The door did not budge.
“Don’t listen to it!” she cried.
Eric realized that the muttering had become a sort of chant. Words he didn’t yet recognize flowed over him, filling him with deep and inexplicable dread. He clamped his hands over his ears and tried not to listen.
Isabelle pulled at the door, her bright eyes fiercely fixed on the handle, her jaw clenched, her muscles taut. She looked intense, as if she were giving it everything she had, both physically and emotionally.
He began humming loudly to himself to cover the disturbing sound of the chanting, desperate to avoid hearing it. There seemed to be something profoundly evil about the voice.
Looking back, he saw something enter the room.
It had a vaguely man-like shape, but was little more than a smoky haze rippling through the air. Dark shadows etched themselves across the wall and carpet, snaking out from the shape at its center. Somewhere in the middle of the mass, an evil pair of eyes glared at him, as if not from a man’s head, but from his belly.
Altrusk.
There was a sound like fabric tearing apart and Eric looked back to see Isabelle slowly inching the door open, the small cords in her neck standing out with the exertion.
“Go!” she screamed at him. “Go now!”
The chanting suddenly gave way to an insane shriek.
Altrusk darted forward.
Eric wasted no time. He bolted through the door and out of the house.
Free now, he turned quickly and seized Isabelle’s wrist. “Come with me!” he cried.
Dark, twisted arms wrapped around her, clutching her, pulling her backward. A terrible voice howled with fury.
Eric held fast.
“Just go!” Isabelle screamed. “Leave me!”
“No! I’m taking you with me!”
“I can’t!”
“Try!”
“No! I physically can’t!”
Eric’s eyes dropped to her hand and he saw that her fingers were sinking into the door, binding her to the house. He knew she was right. Whatever happened to her, whatever Altrusk did to her, it had somehow fused her into the house. But he couldn’t bear to leave her. She didn’t belong there.
“Just go!” Isabelle screamed again. “I’ll be fine! He can’t hurt me anymore!”
The dark, snaking fingers crept up her arm and reached for his hand. In another moment, those foul tethers would coil around his wrist and he would be dragged back inside to suffer fates worse than madness and death.
“Go! Before it’s too late!”
His heart breaking, Eric let go.
The door snapped shut like a steel trap and left him standing there, staring at his own reflection in the window. Instantly, all was silent. Nothing stirred. There was no movement behind the glass. All that remained were shadows and dust. Both Altrusk and Isabelle were gone.
Feeling profoundly numb, Eric turned and gazed around. He was on the patio. He ran by here while fleeing the monster. To his left was the planter it shattered as it raced after him. Rich, dark soil and fragments of clay were spilled across the pavement. To his right was the pile of broken scaffolding.
Again, he was struck by the forgotten memories of his dream. Everything came back to him. He walked past here, calmly, curiously, wondering about the purpose of this building that looked so elegant but appeared abandoned. Nothing pursued him. Nothing shattered the planter. With no need to flee for his very life, he never climbed the scaffolding. It never collapsed. He was never stranded on the roof and therefore never needed to break into the house to get down.
He never met Isabelle.
That version of him simply walked on by, around the corner of the building, utterly and blissfully unaware.
His heart still pounding in his chest, a deep aching inside him, Eric began to walk in that direction.
The house loomed over him, monstrous in size and eerie in its silence, but otherwise perfectly unremarkable. There was absolutely no way to know that the rooms and hallways did not lead where they were supposed to, that a man who had become a monster stalked unwary trespassers…that a young girl was hopelessly trapped inside.
It was difficult to breathe.
In the dream, he’d wandered these grounds for a while before discovering the little path that weaved through the garden and into a dense thicket of trees. But because of the dream, he already knew it was there. He followed the path and left the house of Altrusk behind him forever.
Once he reached the other side of these trees, once the house was completely out of view, Eric succumbed to the weakness in his legs and sat down in the middle of the path, where he stared despairingly up at the bright sky.
The trees swayed gently in a soft breeze. A hawk was circling lazily overhead. Inexplicably, the world carried on.
His phone rang.
Apparently, he was home again.
He fished it from his pocket. It was Karen.
“Thank God, Eric. I’ve been trying to reach you for like two hours now.”
“I’m sorry.”
Apparently, something about his voice revealed his distress because she immediately asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” But his voice was unconvincing.
“What’s wrong?”
“She’s gone.”
“What?”
“Isabelle. She’s gone. I couldn’t save her.”
“Baby, what are you talking about?”
“She’s just a little girl. Just a girl… And I couldn’t save her…”
“God Eric, what happened? Talk to me.”
“I never should’ve gone inside. I didn’t know. Never could’ve known. But she saved me. She saved me and I couldn’t save her.”
Karen fell quiet.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s fine.”
“It’s just hard right now.”
“I can tell.”
“I just need a minute.”
“You want me to call back later?”
“No. It’s okay.” And it was. He didn’t have time to sit down and cry. He had to keep moving. The cathedral waited. The foggy man might already be there. He couldn’t stay here, couldn’t fail again.
He stood up and continued walking. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Just… Just talk to me for a little bit, okay?”
“Okay. Well… You want to tel
l me what these things are that you sent me a picture of?”
“Picture? What things? Oh!” Now he remembered. Before entering the resort’s main building, back in the world before Altrusk, while he was still speaking with Taylor, he’d snapped a picture of the three creatures that were watching them. He’d completely forgotten that he sent it. “Just some things I saw following me. Taylor says they’re harmless. Basically some freaky breed of wild dogs or something.”
“Taylor?”
“Guy I met. Friend of Grant and Annette, I guess.”
“Oh. Well I didn’t know what was going on. I got this picture and then you stopped answering your phone.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to worry you.”
“You were just gone for so long.”
“Didn’t feel like so long. What time is it?” He looked at his watch.
“Almost noon.”
That wasn’t right. “My watch says it’s not even eleven yet.”
“Well it’s almost noon here in the real world.”
Eric compared his watch to the time on the phone. They matched.
“I wasn’t gone that long…” he said. He’d lost over an hour while stuck in Altrusk’s insane house.
“What?”
“I don’t know.” He closed his eyes. His head hurt.
“Well I was worried. I was starting to think these things attacked you after you took the picture.”
“Like I said, I was told they’re pretty well harmless. Other things out here…not so much.”
“What other things?”
Eric told her about the abandoned nudist resort and the monster that was waiting for him behind the kitchen door. He described his terrifying flight through the garden and up onto the roof. He told her of his lucky escape. Somehow, he even managed to tell her the rest of the story as well, including his encounter with Altrusk and losing Isabelle. It all poured out of him. He couldn’t seem to help himself.
“That’s horrible,” Karen said when he’d finished. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
“Me too.” He remembered Isabelle promising him that if he became a permanent addition to the house, like her, she would keep him company, and he found himself struggling just to hold back a tear. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.
