It's been a couple of days since mom had left me here, and all I had done was inspect the house and note down everything that had to be done. It wasn't desolate, it wasn't falling apart, but it was rundown. There was a leak in the upper bathroom and a draft in the main bedroom. The heater in the living room didn't work, and most of the doors refused to close properly. Most of the floors were creaking, and there was even a hole in the kitchen. Tiles and all missing.
Besides that, it was outdated. The colors were dark, almost depressing. I loved the wood aesthetics, the dark tones of the Victorian era, but I hated the combination. It wasn't just dark walls and dark floors, no, the carpets were dark too, the ceilings, the lamps, the curtains, everything was dark. All types of dark – dark red, dark blue, dark brown, dark mustard yellow, dark green.
The pond in the garden was completely overgrown, and the only fish I could find was a dead goldfish floating on the surface. The gazebo next to the pond was falling apart, the garden chairs and the little table couldn't possibly be saved, and even after the electricity got reinstated, half of the house had no light due to faulty cables.
The moment the inheritance had been transferred to my account, I went shopping. Not to stock my fridge, not for furniture. No, no. I went right to the building center to get myself equipped to get that place fixed up. I had no car, so it took me a while to get there – at some point, I would really need to buy a bike or something – but once I got there, there was no stopping me.
It was early in the morning when they arrived to drop everything off. And it took them almost an hour. I had inspected my grandpa's workshop, but most of the machinery he had was either broken or so close to its breaking point that I was afraid to use it. Luckily, they took the old stuff with them. It did cost me a little more, but at least I wouldn't have it sit around forever.
Instead, I had a whole workshop to set up. And the first thing was the lights. I turned off the electricity and got to work. The rest of the house could wait, but I needed light in the workshop, or else the whole project would fail.
The first day had been dragging along. I had problems getting accustomed to my new home, troubles to start things off. But by the second day, I had found the energy to lift my butt and get things done. Now, a week in, I was fixing the workshop lights. That was… an immense improvement. It showed me once again how much of my drive my dad had killed by forbidding me from using his garage.
This place… It needed fixing. It needed it as badly as I did, and for some reason, that energized me. It wasn't like I inherited millions and could just sit back and do whatever I wanted without a care in the world, but it was enough to allow me to get back to an enjoyable life on my own terms. At least I hoped it would.
"Would you look at that," a low voice said, startling me so badly I almost fell down the ladder.
"What the?" I turned just enough to see someone standing on the path leading to the workshop. This workshop… used to be a garage. Or was meant to be one at some point? But no one ever built a proper street leading up to it. And instead of a proper garage door, it had a wooden sliding door, similar to barn doors, just smaller. I had left them open because I needed the light of the day to see what I was doing.
And now someone was watching me like I was a zoo animal.
"Can I help you?" I asked, once I had gathered my thoughts and descended the ladder.
"Maybe," he said. I didn't want him to walk into my workshop, so I moved towards him. What was it with the people randomly showing up here? I had no reason to compare this guy to the one my mom and I had encountered on arrival, were it not for the fact that this one looked just as perfect.
He was neither blond nor blue-eyed, but he seemed similar in composure. That weird elegance I couldn't place. He had black hair reaching his shoulders, and what seemed like green eyes. He was built stronger than the previous visitor, with arms bigger than my tights, and a jawline so perfectly chiseled he may as well have been a marble statue.
He looked so… misplaced. Too perfect for this little rural town.
"Maybe?" I asked.
"I was told the Wells have passed," he said, as if it were a question.
I nodded. "They have indeed."
"Shame."
"You knew them?" I asked. Suddenly, I remembered how shaken my mother had been the last time.
"Yes. Quite well, even. Good friends."
"Friends?" Not to be that type of person, but this guy couldn't be older than 25. Maybe 30, max. What business did my grandparents have with someone that young? A foster? The child of their friends, maybe? A caretaker from an elderly organization?
"Friends," he chuckled, and a shiver ran down my spine. Something didn't feel right. "I lived with them for a while. That was before they started to prepare."
"I'm sorry, I'm– I'm not following." I shook my head, irritated. He was just talking like he was sure I knew them. Of course, I did, but he couldn't know that.
He laughed, almost mockingly. "You will, eventually. You'll have to."
"You make no sense."
"Says you. Nice to see you came back after everything. It's been a while. I couldn't believe it when I heard it, but I guess the rumors were true." He smiled at me, widely. Wide enough for me to see the sharp teeth even from a distance. Nothing about this guy seemed human. It felt like something foreign wearing human skin, faking human speech – something lying through gritted teeth just to observe how I would react.
"I have no idea what you are talking about. Please, leave my property." I was not dealing with this. I felt uneasy, maybe even as uneasy as my mother did. Suddenly, I felt like shaking, too. I didn't. I stood my ground, trying to find an explanation. Probably the local trouble makers who had heard of the new face in town. That must have been it, right? They heard of me and now tried to spook the shit out of me just for the fun of it.
"I fear that is not possible, but I will take my leave," he waved at me, turned around, and walked away again.
I blinked. How did this make any sense – like… at all? Then again, wasn't the whole point of pranks that they didn't make sense?
"Shit…" I mumbled under my breath before I threw my head back to look up at the light fixture I had been working on. "I can't deal with this shit right now…" And thus, my drive for the next few hours had been successfully killed.
I closed the door to the workshop and went back inside. I wouldn't let the light hang just like that. I had all the intention to finish it before sunset, but for now, I needed a break. So I started cooking. And while I was at it, I decided to call my mother.
The service had just been established this morning, but knowing that she had to work, I didn't call her right away. But I did stick to my word nevertheless.
"Mom? It's me," I announced myself the moment someone picked up.
For a moment, there was silence, and I heard rustling, like the phone was handed over from one person to another. It was probably my father who had picked up… Why didn't he say anything? He always answered the phone properly. Then again, maybe I didn't leave him enough time, and once he realized it was me, he decided to just hand the phone over to Mom. Or… something like that?
"Darling?" Her voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
"Hi mom," I greeted her.
"Oh, it's so good to hear your voice. How are things going?"
"I'm fine, but the place needs a lot of work," I admitted.
"Yes, it has been neglected for a while now. Ma and Pa weren't really able to do much around the house anymore for a long time."
"How do you know?" They were no contact, so how did she know?
For a moment, she didn't answer. I even though she may have hung up on me, but I could still hear her breathing.
"The elderly organization checking in on them every week kept me up to date…" she finally said, her voice low. "They called me almost two years ago after Pa had a heart attack. I was their emergency number, after all. I couldn't bring myself to contact them directly but… You know… I couldn't not care."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, trying not to sound like I was blaming her. But I was. Why did no one ever tell me what was happening to my family members?
"It was already over by the time everything was handled, and Pa was doing fine. I didn't see a reason to scare you."
Okay, fair. Because neither grandma nor grandpa told me either. But I still felt a little sour about it. "I understand," I said. I wasn't lying; I did understand, I just had a hard time accepting it. But it didn't matter anymore, did it now?
"Mom?" I asked. "What exactly happened back then?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean… why did you go no contact with them?" Silence again. But this time, waiting didn't break the silence. So I did, instead. "There was a guy here today," I explained.
"The same as last time?" she asked too fast.
"No. But, just as strange. And he seemed to know me. He said he wasn't expecting to see me here after everything." She was quiet again. "Mom," I sighed. "I live here now. If there are people around who recognize me and know me, it will only be a matter of time until they'll tell me."
"Don't trust them." Her voice was merely a whisper, almost drowned out by a faint static that grew louder with every word.
"What, why?"
"Just don't!" she suddenly yelled. " Never trust them! Not their smiles, not their promises, not their words. Cover your ears, and Do. Not. List–"
The sound of the static made her last word almost inaudible, and suddenly, the line was dead. Once the static ended, all I could hear was the flat tone of an ended call.