Chapter Text
You suppressed a yawn as you wearily looked at the GPS's screen, a sleepy smile pulling on your lips as you read the estimated time until you arrive at your new home.
Just 30 more minutes, you thought.
Moving to a whole different state was a giant step towards an independent life, it meant that you had to leave the familiarity of your hometown. Neighbors, friends, acquaintances, you wouldn't see them again in a very, very long time.
It wasn't easy leaving everything behind.
But for your mental health's sake, you needed to focus on something else. That's why you invested your inheritance in this project. Restoring an antique residence that has been desolated for 70 years. It may sound reckless or a useless investment, but for you, it was a challenge that you had to overcome--and the perfect distraction.
But finding a house that met all your requirements wasn't as simple as you thought. It took you a long while until you discovered your current dwelling. It was a pretty big deal -for you, at least- for someone else with more than two brain cells would've scrolled past the house ad without a second thought, but not you. Something about the house's peculiar and mysterious vibe drew you in. Maybe it was the crimson peeled off wallpaper; maybe it was the sheet-covered furniture; maybe it was its mix between the 20s and the 50s style. You weren't sure why, but you had to buy the domicile.
And so, here you were, on your way to New Orleans, ready to start your project.
Taking a sip from your energy drink, you looked back at the GPS, 4 am. You sighed, maybe you should have stopped by a rest area, sleep for 3 hours, and you would be back on your feet. But, if you slept until dawn, traffic wouldn't have been kind in broad daylight. Well, no time to sulk now, since you were less than half an hour from arriving.
"In 100 yards, turn right." the monotone voice of the GPS announced.
Putting on the blinker, you turned right, entering an earthen road. Now, it was only going straight for 20 minutes, and you would arrive at the property's fence.
The house was isolated from the world, being 15 minutes away from the city, completely enclosed by vegetation. But you didn't complain, neighbors wouldn't be a problem, and the air was pretty clean.
As you progressed through the road, the number of trees and bushes increased, until you were surrounded by them. It would be a beautiful sight had it not be the dead of the night with the only light source being your car lights. After driving for ten more minutes, you could see the faint outline of the fence. Silently cheering, you smiled a little.
It didn't feel real, but it was, this was reality. Once you opened the house's wooden doors, it would make it official, and you couldn't wait. As you got closer to it, a faint anxious feeling started creeping in, like a faded voice in the back of your head screaming for you to turn back. You shook your head, you are not going to back down now, definitely not for a bit of anxiety.
It's a change of environment, it's normal to feel like this you reasoned with your subconsciousness.
Without realizing it, you were in front of the metal fence. The house's shadow towered over your car. You felt a tad bit intimidated by the two-floored structure, it looked as if it could collapse any minute now. Prying your eyes off of it, you needed to find your phone and house keys.
Rummaging through your purse, you picked them. Ready to step out of the car, you spared one last glance at the house.
'Why does it have to be so creepy?' You asked yourself.
The first thing you felt when you stepped out of the car was how the temperature dropped. It didn't felt like summer, the humidity of the night seeped through your bones. You rubbed your arms in an attempt to fight off the cold.
Why couldn't you have a jacket in hand when you needed one?
Your thoughts were cut short when you felt being stared at. No, not stared, observed, maybe even judged. It made you shiver, but you decided to blame it on the fatigue. Turning on your phone's flashlight, you pointed it to the fence. You couldn't help but grimace by its state. It had seen better days. The black paint was peeling off, some spikes were missing, and the hinges were rusty. Taking off the chains that kept the fence closed. The metal gates whined and screeched as you pushed them open, a sound you detested. You'll have to fix that.
Walking along the rocky path, you reached the house's porch. It wasn't any better than the fence. The wood needed to be repolished- or just altogether replaced- a layer of paint, adding some furniture, plants and it would look just like when it was built. Climbing up the wooden steps, it creaked displeasingly. It felt like as if you breathed too hard, it would collapse below your feet, turning into millions of splinters.
Scurrying your way to the front door, you were about to insert the black key into the keyhole, but you stopped, key hovering near it.
That nagging anxiety was back, but this time, the voice screamed your ears off, begging, pleading for you to turn back and speed off.
Something was wrong about the house.
Summoning up all the courage you had, you inserted the key, a right twist of the wrist and, it was open. Pressing your shaking hand over the rough textured door, you slowly pushed it open. Peeking inside, you let out a relieved sigh, there was nothing out of the ordinary, absolutely nothing. Then, why did you felt so paranoid? It was just a regular, abandoned house.
Fully stepping inside, you turned on the lights and, to no one's surprise, they didn't turn on. No one has lived there since the 50s, there couldn't be any electricity. Focusing back on the hall, it was a disaster; dust lingering in the air; dirt and filth everywhere; floors a dirty mess; wallpaper peeling off; and the furniture covered in white sheets.
Seeing this again, made you reconsider your choice. Maybe you should have stayed in California.
Nope.
You were not going back, not anymore.
Leaving the keys on the table, you went further inside the house. You had an inspection to do.
After 10 minutes, you had examined all the rooms on the first floor. Well, all of them except the basement. You didn't want to get near that room at the dead of the night.
Climbing up the stairs, you went to the second floor to check the remaining rooms. Going for the door in front of you, you grabbed the handle, but stopped. There was noise inside the room, it sounded like... static? Pressing your ear against the door, you confirmed your suspicions, it was static, but it sounded as if you had put a radio underwater.
Yanking the door open, you frantically searched for the source of the sound, but to your dismay, the noise suddenly stopped: no white noise, no static, no radio. There was nothing in the room except for a ton of boxes.
You were utterly confused, from where was the noise coming from, why did the noise appeared in the first place? Rubbing your eyes, you came up with the most logical explanation, it must have been something inside one of those boxes.
Pushing aside the strange occurrence, you recontinued your mini inspection. After finishing, you went back downstairs. Ready to leave the house and go to your temporary rental apartment
Since the house was in no condition for someone to sleep in it, much less live without having an asthma attack, you had to rent a place while the house was being reformed to make at least habitable. Talking about reforms, tomorrow it'll start, meaning that tomorrow your General Contractor will come.
Thinking about everything there has to be done gave you a headache.
You briefly looked back at the pitch-black entrance hall, before closing the door behind you.
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Before leaving, you didn't notice the translucent figure forming at the corner of the room. It took the form of a thin, tall man, probably in his late 30s. Wild brown locks messily brushed to the side that framed his dead complexion flawlessly.
He dressed a maroon vest over a bleach-white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. His bowtie was a dark shade of maroon hang loosely around his neck. His most distinctive feature was that wide, pearly-white smile. He strolled towards the window, his eyes fixed on your retreating form. He smiled a grin so wide it could split his face in two. His facial expression darkened, eyes of those of a predator.
It was time someone finally moved in.
Satisfied, Alastor turned around and vanished, just in time when you looked behind you, eyes riveted in the same spot he once was. With a small squint of eyes, you shook your head, and returned your way to the car.
This is going to be very entertaining.