The Soul Eater by S. C. Alban

Author:S. C. Alban [Alban, S. C.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Solstice Publishing - Solstice Shadows Imprint
Published: 2017-10-29T04:00:00+00:00

Carol heard the relief pour through the phone. “Oh, yes, ma’am, first thing in the morning. I promise we’ll figure this out. Even if we have to get another truck and reload your whole house, we’ll get your stuff to you.”

“Fine, just know I also don’t plan on charges for an extra night caused by your…”

Carol’s voice trailed off as her attention focused to the ceiling. What was that sound?

“Of course, we wouldn’t think of charging a fee for something…” Gus’ voice faded as Carol lowered the phone from earshot. She tilted her head up and looked at the ceiling above.

The creaking sound was light… barely audible, but nonetheless, there. Carol narrowed her eyes, her forehead crinkled as she attempted to make sense of what she heard.

It sounded like footsteps, the sounds of someone tiptoeing. Not quite the creaking of long and heavy full footfalls, it was the short rounded squeaks of small, slow, hesitant steps across a floor. Carol froze when the sound registered in her brain.

It was coming from the room above where she stood. Which room was that? A slideshow of her tour with Sue flipped through her mind. It paused on the last room on the right. The den. Yes, the smallest of the upstairs rooms, perfect for her home office.

“Hello? Hello, Ms. Monroe? Ms. Monroe, are you still there?” Gus’ voice crackled through the receiver.

Carol blinked her eyes and brought the phone back up to her ear. “Um, yes, yes, I’m here. Tomorrow morning will be fine. I… I have to go. Goodbye.” Her words were brusque. She quickly hung up the phone and stood silent straining to hear more creaking.

The sound grew louder. She shook her head. There was no way she was imagining it. The steps moved across the ceiling back and forth. Like someone was pacing above her.

Someone with little feet.

Her heart raced. Adrenaline rushed through her head in loud whooshes.

Carol still grasped her phone in her hand. She unlocked the screen and opened the keypad with trembling fingers. Should she dial 911? If being a lawyer had taught her anything, it was that people always underutilized 911. She was no stranger to facts that proved anything could happen at any time in one’s own home. She was not willing to take any chances. Her finger hovered over the keypad.

But, what were the odds someone was actually in her home? In this small town? It was unlikely, practically non-existent. Still, she couldn’t ignore the feeling she had to do something. Ignoring the sound would do nothing to ease her trepidations and, she didn’t want to end up on Unsolved Mysteries. Decision made, she dialed 911.

“911 operator speaking, what is your emergency?”

Carol whispered into the phone. “I think there’s someone in my house. I’m at 696 Walnut Avenue.”

“Are you in a safe place, ma’am?”

“Yes.”

“Are you in the house now, ma’am?”

“Yes, I’m downstairs… in the living room.” Carol tried to remain calm, though the intensity of the situation shot goose bumps down her spine. “But, I hear.

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