What if buildings had souls? What if they could tell us their stories? What then? It would be great? Wouldn’t it? To go to England and hear the tales of bygone ages. Or to hear the war stories of forts and camps. To hear how King George III plotted to rule the greatest empire. Or listen to one who witnessed Einstein genius at work?
But what if those souls witnessed terrible acts? Whose very walls were coated the blood of innocent? What if the acts we make, both innocent and evil, could change the way the building behaves? What then?
How would the buildings behave?
Would they be things of evil?
Two small girls slip out of a small bedroom window. The brick house is mostly dark save the living room. The flicker of white light is the hint of a television. A door opens and closes. The two girls freeze in place. After a moment, they continue to slip down the roof. They drop to the ground soundlessly. The girls keep to the shadows of a hedge until they reach the sidewalk.
They step into the light of a street lamp.
Both girls share identical small faces, slender bodies, and waist long hair. One has red hair while the other has light brown hair. Although both wear tank tops, the redhead wears a skirt. The other wears short shorts. The brunette climbs up a tree then drops two backpacks down to the second girl. Once they shoulder their packs, they begin to walk down the street.
The redhead girl glances back at the house.
“Dani? What’s wrong? Are you worried? Do you want to go back?”
“No.” She answers softly, “Let’s go.”
“Are you sure?”
She takes a deep breath, “No, Chloe. I need to do this. If I don’t do this, I am never going to be willing to venture back out.”
“Okay. Then let’s do this.”
The two girls quickly and quietly walk down the street. The air is thick with humidity and the sound of insects. The either side of the street is lined with small houses. Warm, friendly light shines out of the windows. Some are made of bricks. Others are made of siding. Street lamps stand at regular points. Young trees provide a warm, homey atmosphere.
Ten minutes later, the two girls step around the corner on Fifth and South West. Without saying a word, the children come to a stop.
There is only one lamp on this street. Its weak orange light is barely enough to shine at its base. The trees that line the street are much older and wilder than the other trees. A few houses can be seen through the thick brush. However, at the end of the street is a single house.
Three stories tall with large windows. Its front porch is lined with ornate pillars. A wide path stretches from the porch to the street. Once it was beautiful and stood with dignity. But now the paint is peeling and parts of the porch are sagging in places.
The two girls come to a stop underneath the lamp.
A few moments later, they are joined by three other teens. The biggest and largest teen flashes a smile at them. The second teen is a boy that is getting some recording gear. The second is a tall girl. All three wear letterman jackets. The weak orange light casts deep shadows.
“Hello, all of you!” The tall boy says, “Welcome to your challenge.”
“Mike.” The tall girl says, “Do we have to do this?”
“Everyone at the school has gone through it. Regardless if they are born her or not.”
“What are we doing.” Chloe says as she folds her arms, “What are we doing?”
“Fine. Anthony. You ready?”
“Hey, you are asking me to do the job of three people. Give me a second.” He lifts a camcorder fitted with an external mic and light source. “And we are ready to record.”
“Good evening! It is just past ten o’clock.” Mike says, “We are here to witness the night of terror! Where Chloe and Dani must stay the night at the old Miller’s House. Eight hours. Recording this adventure is Anthony. Who also has yet to do this.” He looks at the girls, “Are you ready?”
“Yeah.” Chloe squares her shoulders.
“The rules are simple. One. You cannot leave the house until you can hear the town square clock. Two. You cannot call for help. Four. You can only use what you have in your bags. And lastly, you must be recording at all times.”
“Got it.” Chloe says, “We’re ready.”
“Okay then. Good luck.”
“Wait!” Chloe says, “How do we get in?”
“That is what you three need to figure out.”
The two girls look at each other and roll their eyes. The three teens head towards the house. Mike laughs while his friend glares at him.
“This is such a stupid tradition.”
“Hey, our parents did this. Even the mayor did this.”
“Yeah…” She looks at the house, “but… something feels different now.”
“Oh, you have just been watching too many horror movies.” He grins at her, “Come on. Sonic is still open. I’ll buy you a lime aid.”
To be continued…