He couldn’t hear anything other than the sound of the rain bouncing off the car. It was coming down hard now; each drop, a kamikaze intent on burrowing itself in the vehicle’s frame. “It was a pretty lousy show” said Andy as he pulled himself forward to change the radio station. “I’m on a highway to hell” washed over the car with a sudden fury, his heart beat falling in line with the bass player’s every strum.
The dark blue Passat was pulling in the driveway, finally stopping with crunch on the gravel in front of an ordinary looking house. Following the clicking of doors they were out. They’re faces flayed as they zigzagged through the narrow streams of light the streetlamps were stabbing the pavement with.
“God knows I could use a nightcap, not a bad place to call home Rob” He exclaimed to the driver. Rob only nodded in reply, as he fumbled with the keys. He seemed to be having a problem with the lock.
Finally the key turned, the door slowly sprawling back on its hinges. His eyes were plunged in a sea of darkness; that is except for a pale red light scratching away under the door of the room directly overlooking the stairs. Click! The lights were on and it had vanished. “Would a rum and coke work?” Rob managed to seethe. “Whatever Andy’s having” he replied. As they headed downstairs towards the kitchen he couldn’t help throwing a glance back at the door above the stairs.
“To new friends” Rob said as he clinked glasses with them. He couldn’t help noticing that Rob’s eyes were more bloodshot than usual. A few drinks later he stumbled to his feet “Where’s the bathroom?” he asked. “Up the stairs, second door on the left” was the reply. As he left the room he couldn’t fight the feeling that a pair of unwanted eyes was burning a hole in the back of his neck. He shrugged off the feeling and headed for the stairs.
The rest of the house was engulfed in black. He tried searching for a light switch but gave up almost as soon as he had begun. He moved for the stairs, grasping onto the railway with both hands, he began to ascend.
As he glanced up, his eye once again caught sight of the faint red light that was casting dancing shadows under the door. As he arrived in front of the door, he hesitated. He couldn’t help fight the feeling he shouldn’t be there. He shouldn’t even be looking at it, he couldn’t explain why. He stretched out his hand but stopped mid motion. He could’ve sworn he had just heard muffled whispers. He couldn’t make out where the voices were coming from so he thought better of it, and quickly turned to the left and opened and latched the bathroom door.
Upon exiting, everything was as it had been nothing but a void, except for that pale red glow under the door. His heart was beating faster now as he passed it and took a step down the stairs. He stopped cold. Turning around he tiptoed back towards the door, every creak of the wooden floorboards sending shivers down his spine. He placed his hand on the door handle and silently pressed down. As he slowly pushed the door open he felt another hand firmly grasp his own. His stomach clenched and he started. “Didn’t you find the bathroom?” Rob croaked in an oddly assertive way. “It’s right over there” he said as he pointed to the left down the hallway “I thought we’d watch a movie, we’re waiting for you” he grinned. “Thanks” was the only answer he could manage to conjure.
The peculiar feeling he had was beginning to fade as he descended into the living room. Rob and Andy were already sprawled on the couches. “Finally” exclaimed Rob as he motioned for him to take the empty couch in the middle. As the images on the screen raced in front of him, his eyelids slowly began to shroud his vision. The sounds grew further away until finally all was quiet.
In a flash his eyes were open; he sat up and glanced around. The grey emptiness of dawn was already seeping through the cracks in the curtains. Everything was still silent, the ticking of the clock setting the rhythm of his pulse. As he began to wipe the sleep out of his eyes he noticed that Rob’s blankets were lying lifelessly on the floor. He’d probably gone out he thought. It was a good a time as any to leave, although he would have liked to say goodbye or thank him at the very least, but it was probably better for everyone if he left.
He laced his shoes and before he knew it was standing in the entrance, as he looked around in one last half hearted attempt to catch any signs of life, his gaze froze. The door above the stairs stood partly ajar. He hesitantly looked around him, put his bag down beside the door and slowly began climbing the stairs. “Rob” he whispered as he arrived on the landing. His palm pressed on the door and he stepped inside.
The room was empty, of any person that is. However it was cluttered to near breaking point. His eyes took a few moments to adapt to the dim light, which was sparingly being sprayed by nothing more than a red lamp on a little wooden table on the right hand side of the room. After having caught sight of it he couldn’t help himself from letting out a little sigh of relief. It appeared to be some sort of red room. The walls were plastered with photographs and negatives were strewn all over the floor. A number of strings ran through the room from one end to the other like laundry string; each of them burdened by a couple dozen photos. He got closer to get a better look at one of them. As the plastic touched his fingertips, he felt his bowels swirl. It was a picture of a mangled head, the eyes, lifeless and gaunt. He glanced at the next and he could just make out the maggots tearing away at an open torso, the intestines hanging out like a parasite to its host. The fear was taking over, or was it fear.
He dropped the pictures and sprung into the hallway. As he glanced around to reassure himself that he was still truly alone he noticed a family portrait on the wall. The more he looked at it, the more the sickening sensation in his stomach grew. It was a photograph of the picture perfect family; mom, dad, and two young girls. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the children’s innocent faces, their hair curled perfectly to the sides; he placed his fingers on their faces, running their outline back and forth; his every swipe kindling the fire that shone in his eyes more and more. He was gone.
He finally moved down the stairs, he could see the door was unlocked. He picked up his bag, and calmly latched the door. As he tip toed down the stairs his bag fell away, leaving nothing more than heavy headed hammer planted squarely in his hand. He was looking at Andy now. His eyes were still closed; his face turned ever so much on his left side. He could feel the blood pulsing through the veins in his hand as his grip around the hammer’s handle tightened. His arm rose, and with a muffled thud, fell.
He could still taste the metallic twang of the blood in his mouth, the hammer still in his hand. He heard the click of a key in the front door’s lock and stood up. As he began to trudge up the stairs, he could feel the warm streams of blood trickling down his arm to his fingers. Rob was closing the door; a bundle of groceries in hand.
He just stood there, waiting, the hammer gently caressing his outer thigh.