Skyla Dawn Cameron - Dweller on the Threshold (retail) (epub) by Anonymous

Author:Anonymous [Anonymous]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-04T00:00:00+00:00

No Ouija Board

The trouble, as I saw it, was that being creeped out by a haunted house wasn’t really grounds to leave.

Nothing had actually hurt me. Or my cats—they were largely oblivious. Even the couple from decades ago going missing and maybe one or both of them being murdered—no bodies were found, so the homicide was merely an assumption. And where would corpses be hidden? I assumed the police had been very thorough. And unless the ghosts were responsible for said murder(s), that didn’t mean anything. Dad hadn’t gone missing from here. My grandparents hadn’t gone missing from here, I didn’t think. They’d all just died, like all people do. Dad hadn’t even died at the house. Granted, I had no idea how his parents died, and maybe that was something horrifying tied to the house, but probably it was just normal death. I’d check their obituaries when I was online later.

I was the first person to shout during a supernatural horror movie, Oh my god, get the fuck out of the house, you dumbasses! Like as soon as shit started getting weird, I rolled my eyes because they never left the house. Then it was too late, everyone was murderated, and I have no sympathy for self-inflicted wounds.

But I wasn’t a dumbass: I was just broke.

So the question became, Can I live with this? And given the alternative—which included being homeless during a pandemic—yes, yes, I would live with it. I just wished I could get the ghost(s) to dial it down a tad.

That evening I was lying in bed with the cats, Netflix running on my laptop, checking the delivery date for the loveseat and TV—now scheduled for Friday—when FaceTime rang with the promised call from Gavin.

I paused the movie on my laptop and answered. “Hey.”

His face and shoulders filled the small screen of my phone; it looked like he sat on a couch, the soft blue overstuffed cushions rising behind him. He had an easy, casual smile, and his dark eyes still popped even without the guyliner. “Hey. You read the article?”

“Yeah. I did a quick search and found an archived article about it from a bigger paper but there were even fewer details, just a photo of the people. I thought my dad grew up here but I guess my grandparents bought the place after the Bennetts. Do you know if there’s a way to access house purchase history?”

“Land registry, you can find property records there, but you have to pay for it. I got looking into it, though, because I figured you’d ask, and I was curious too. Your grandparents—Ernest and Mildred-Anne Pattson?”

That sounded right so I nodded.

“They owned the house—they rented it to the Bennetts.” He gave me a slow, slick smile, his eyes bright like he enjoyed the mystery as well. “Rented it a couple more times over the year or so after the Bennetts disappeared but no one stuck around longer than a few months so they moved in.”

I leaned back on the pillows and thought on that.

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