Red House

The icy gusts pushed at my back freezing the skin under my soaked overcoat motivating me further down the laneway in an ever growing hurry. Just as the winds became a fearsome gale throwing the rain at an odd angle I managed to seek shelter inside the old barn. Rickety as it was it seemed a fortress from the maelstrom outside and was a tremendous solace.

Throwing my coat over a bale of hay I retrieved from it my sealed tin container full of tobacco, a small fisherman's pipe, and some matches. As I sat on an old three-legged stool, attempting not to totter from the missing fourth leg, I uneasily smoked my pipe and saw as the light waned from the solitary window amidst the high arch of the worn structure throwing an even darker shadow on the opposing hay loft.

I tapped the ashes out of the now empty pipe and walked over to one of the oil lanterns that hung on hooks outside each stall, presumably once used for some sort of livestock and now all sat forlorn. As the flame danced inside its glass confines, I looked around the ramshackle old barn noting how tightly placed the boards were that formed the walls and ceiling and in direct juxtaposition to such sturdiness everything else was decrepit and appeared sloppy in its abandoned state. Against the far side was the wilted loft, crookedly angled as if in a decades long free fall pouring a cascade of molding hay like some mildewed waterfall. As my gaze traced the sagging floor of the loft wrapping around the northern wall, hanging precariously over the stalls which were once home to some variety of animals, I noticed in the far corner a broken window that shewed the inside of some sort of makeshift office. A dusty chair and cabinet accompanied a paper strewn desk as the only desolate furnishings of the claustrophobic room. Setting the lamp on the desk I sat in the creaky old chair and stoked another pipe to enjoy as the assaulting storm seemed to drum familiar beats upon the roof.

It must have been a couple hours later when I awoke as the lantern had burnt out and the rain seemed to have stopped. As I lit the lantern once more terror gripped me in unfathomable paralysis for all the papers on the desk were now neatly stacked and yet not a trace of dust seemed disturbed. Frantically I grasped my illuminating beacon and dashed towards the office door, which was now firmly bolted and stood fast despite its aged aesthetics.  I made my way through the broken window leading back into the open plane of the barn's main space and sliced my arm deeply in doing so. The first drops of blood sizzled when meeting the heated glass of the lantern and when a thicker stream rolled down it painted my path in a crimson hue while I stumbled forward ignoring the pain. I could see the two great doors were barred with a wooden beam and showed no give when I finally reached its barrier. Despite all my strength it produced zero sign of hope as if the beam was welded in place.

Now angered I started kicking the doors with all my might only managing to break free the leather sole from my boot's embrace.  A slight buzzing started inside of my ears, akin to a mass of flies swarming about and along with this new annoyance I made out barely audible whispers assailing my ears from all directions. Straining to hear what they were saying over the insecroid buzzing still within my ears.

"Who's there?" I managed to gasp aloud not realising how dry my throat had become.

My question was only met with whispered laughter tormenting me with their mockery.

"This isn't funny!" I hollered hoarsely, choking on my own words and falling into a coughing fit as I stumbled to my coat, still draped over the bale of hay, guided by the blood-dampened light of my lantern across the room. Ripping the flask from the contents of my coat I drank deeply hoping to not only quench my thrist but restore some sanity to my increasingly rabid predicament.

Through the solitary window a flash caught my eye and all courage drained from me as I saw the face that rested on the other side of that pane. A sharply featured and ghostly white profile that I would have guessed was a mask if not for the gruesomely sardonic smile that slowly crept into being tearing a void across its blank landscape.

The hollow eyes gripped me in terror and held me in their command until the tickling sensations crawling over my body and the fleeting shadows jumping in and out of my peripherals broke the spell of its evil gaze. The buzzing, now building to a deafening height, accompanied by the intelligible whispers all culminated to a single moment of pure silence and in that terrorible moment a single word spoken aloud held soul crushing weight:

"Jessica!"

The thousand voices sharply proclaimed in unison.

"That wasn't my fault!" I loudly and  indignantly replied.

Now banging started up all around me, a thousand hands drumming the full perimeter of the structure as if the barn were besieged by an army. This newly deafening zenith culminated into another equally deafening silence penetrated by the hard and venomous hiss:

"Madelyn!"

"I loved her!" I shouted as I emptied the flask into my mouth and flung its empty remains at the sneering face perched in the window, watching me with amusement, mocking me with it's terrible smile.

"Enough of this foolishness!" I shouted, now enraged, storming over to the sealed exit as a new round of drumming began. Ignoring the cacophony I produced my revelover from my waistband and emptied it's contents into the insolent beam which barred my escape. Not only was my endevour in sheer vain, the beam itself showed no additional marks upon the worn surface. Bewildered I stumbled backward and with a dull thud the pistol dropped to the ground from my now limp hand. I looked skyward toward that evil smile, in that solitary window, and it began to cackle; its face eerily splitting in two with each sharp exclamation.

The whispering voices now at a fever pitch became ever more clear in announcing names familiar to me and in between sobbing breaths I choked out, "I loved them all!" In babbling repetition. In this moment I flung my lantern at the great wooden barrier hoping to burn it down in a final attempt at freedom. While the flames engulfed the door I seized the other lanterns hanging about the old barn and threw them onto the inferno that was now the entryway of the place. With each new lantern crashing into the blaze, adding to its ferocity, a shower of burning hay was blown into the eves and rained down singeing embers. The hay was the only thing that was burning for the barn showed no sign of succumbing to the flames; no scorching, no marks. Yet the fire raged on as I stood there trapped and sobbing pleading to the eternally staring face, in that solitary window. Collapsing onto my knees, sobbing apologies became a maniacal cackling as shadow and flame danced around me amidst whispering voices announcing names all too familiar to me.