A Dance in the Moonlight

Treasure

Well-Known Member

Irie lay on the thin mattress on the little twin bed in the back bedroom on the second story of the silent, empty house. He stared up at the cobwebbed ceiling, painting, gripping his stomach hard. Hungry... so very hungry! He rolled onto his side and half curled, whimpering softly. If only he could just sleep through the pain, but he couldn't. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat, he couldn't leave! Was this his curse? For not being a better son to his dead parents? For not being a friend? For that one time when he kicked a dog when he was six years old? Why?! His throat was still sore from screaming that very question into the darkness.

Noise from outside. A voice, soft and distant.

Irie rolled off the bed and almost collapsed. Legs shaking, he staggered to the window and peered out, trying to avoid the dim light of the moon, but even with his care, a single beam brushed across his cheek, and he drew back, hissing in pain. He'd caught a glimpse of someone, but not enough to tell who or what. They were close to the house and bent over. Maybe they'd lost something. What did it matter? Nothing at all, but he wished they'd come inside. Maybe save him. Maybe kill him. He wasn't quite suicidal yet, but each agonizing hour that passed made death look less and less terrifying. Could it really be as bad as what he was existing with?

He dragged himself back to bed and flopped down again. The sun would be coming up soon. When that happened, he would be forced to sleep. Some experimentation had shown him he could resist the sleep, but it was nearly impossible and felt worse than being awake, so he curled in a tight ball and waited. Just before sunrise, he'd put himself in his little "coffin bed" he'd made for himself in a hidden compartment under the kitchen table. No one else knew about it, not even his mother, only himself and his father. Now... only him. It would keep him safe in case of intruders until he could wake again. Maybe he'd find another rat. That would help.

For now... All he could do was what he'd done every day for nearly three weeks: wait in misery for death to finally take him.
 
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KJDarKnight

You can make anything by writing -C.S Lewis
Amara was the daughter of a wealthy family who mostly did not approve of her. Much to "hippie" for their liking. She didn't buy into the latest fashions and trends and didn't care about "the finer things" she believed in hard work and forging her own path.

Amara had worked hard to become a real estate agent and was both looking to get a comission on a sale and flip a few of her own.

This particular house peaked her interest, would sell quickly and help her work on that nest egg.

Amara always came the day before a showing to check up on everything, today was no different. She popped in her headphones after climbing out of the car, bobbing her head to the sound of the music and singing quietly along as she walked up to the house and unlocked the door, letting herself in.

Whence inside she sang along more to the music, walking around the empty house
 

Treasure

Well-Known Member
The sun was almost down. He could feel it in his bones. He did not exactly sleep as most people did, and he certainly didn't dream, but as the sky darkened and the sun dropped, he felt himself becoming more and more aware of what was going on even if he could not react to it. Right now, he was hearing rustling and... music? A voice, at least, possibly chanting. A voice that had... a heartbeat!

If he drooled, he would have done so now, but for whatever reason, he couldn't drool anymore. So instead, he lay listening to the tantalizing heartbeat and waiting for the sun to finish its descent and release him from its cold chains. The heartbeat... he heard nothing else as he followed its path somewhere above him. Just a few more minutes. He found himself internally pleading with it to stay... just a few more minutes!
 

KJDarKnight

You can make anything by writing -C.S Lewis
She did stay as she was going through the house room by room to make sure everything looked nice for the showing. Eventually she got to the room he was in, still humming along to her music, flipping the light on as the sunlight disappeared
 

Treasure

Well-Known Member
He was released! He pressed his ear against the floor, listening, panting softly. When the heartbeat was farthest away, he took the risk and slipped out of his hiding place. The person was facing away at the moment, and he silently closed the hatch on his hideaway. Then he crept soundlessly around the corner and hid, peering around the corner as he knelt on the floor.

Who was she? What was she doing in his house? Why was she here? And most importantly, why did she seem so... apealingly tasty? He wanted to touch her... hold her close... lick her soft neck and taste her blood. Just a taste!

NO!! He whimpered softly and tapped his forehead. No, no, no! He couldn't do that! No, he would not kill a human! He must not! He gripped the door frame hard enough to scratch the paint, but he didn't move forward. He didn't leave her, either, just sat watching.
 

KJDarKnight

You can make anything by writing -C.S Lewis
Amara was oblivious, the earbuds and music blocking out the quiet sounds he made.

She wondered through a couple more rooms before she seemed satisfied "should sell quickly" she said to herself and seemed quite pleased. An easy sell and a comission was just what she needed right now.

With that she flipped the light off and headed out
 

Treasure

Well-Known Member
She was gone! Gone at last! Gone already? Irie bit the side of his hand, whimpering as he tried to come to grips with two conflicting emotions. He wanted her to stay! He was so very lonely... No, no, he needed her to stay away! Her and everyone else! It wasn't safe to be around him. He needed them gone! It was the only way. At least he thought it was.

He spent a few minutes laying on the floor of what used to be his parent's bedroom whining and crying before he picked himself up and moved on. Sulking and pitying himself wouldn't fix anything. Not that he had any idea what he should be doing, so he supposed a few minutes spent on a pity party or two wouldn't hurt, but there had to be something he could be doing. Somehow, someway, there had to be an answer. Right?

In the meantime, he sat cross-legged on the floor of the guest bedroom as he tried to figure out the best way to drain a rat. He was making an incredible mess at the moment and wasting a lot of the precious red fluid, red fluid he found himself licking up from the wooden floor, but not before it stained, leaving a faint red stain in the middle of the empty room. Good thing it wasn't carpet like his bedroom or his parent's old bedroom. Which was why he chose here to try to drain and drink the three rats he'd managed to catch in the crawlspace under the house. It made a beautiful mess on the floor here.

Once he'd cleaned himself up, he went upstairs to lay on his bed again. It was one of the few pieces of furniture left in the house for some reason, and he appreciated that. The rats had helped a little, but he still felt the hole gnawing away in his stomach. It wasn't enough! He needed more! But there wasn't any more. Finally, he dragged himself back to the tiny hideaway where he could barely fit and lay waiting for daylight to take him once again.
 

KJDarKnight

You can make anything by writing -C.S Lewis
The next day Amara pulled up to the house again, dressed in a proper pant suit instead of her more casual loose style.

The potential buyers were due any moment. She climbed out of the car and went to unlock the door while she waited
 

Treasure

Well-Known Member
The well-dressed couple arrived only moments later. They were approaching middle age but were desperately trying to hide it behind artful choices in clothing, a touch of cosmetic surgery, and dyed hair - blonde for her and black for him. They got out of their black car and walked up the front walk, their eyes critically roaming over the face of the house.

"We are the Eriksons," said the woman. "You are that agent we spoke to? Yes?"
 

KJDarKnight

You can make anything by writing -C.S Lewis
"Yes that's me!" She answered cheerfully and walked back to meet them "Please call me Amara" she said happily "she's a beautiful house isn't she!"
 

Treasure

Well-Known Member
"It will do. The landscape needs some work," Mrs. Erikson sniffed, but neither of them managed to look displeased. There wasn't much to be displeased about. The house was in good shape and obviously well-cared for.

"What is the history of the house?" Mr. Erikson asked, moving toward the door in a clear indication he wanted to walk and talk.
 

KJDarKnight

You can make anything by writing -C.S Lewis
"Oh well, the owners passed away, not in the home, it was left to their son but he never came to claim it. Just disapeared, so Went to the bank" she explained "which good news for tou, selling cheap! Beautiful area and of course they maintained the house well" she saif as she showed them inside
 

Treasure

Well-Known Member
"Oh, dear, you are certain they were not killed at home?" Mrs. Erikson fretted, pausing as she looked around as if expecting to see a dead body in an arm chair.

"She said passed away, not killed, dear," Mr. Erikson sighed as he guided her forward. "There's not a murderous maniac trying to kill anyone who steps into this house."

Mrs. Erikson's look of alarm was replaced by one of annoyance. "It happens. Don't make fun of me, Barnaby! Now, miss, I wish to see the master bedroom. You said there is one in this house, correct?"
 

KJDarKnight

You can make anything by writing -C.S Lewis
"Quite certain. I checked into everything personally" she assured as she gave rhe woman a nod and lead the way to the master bedroom "I do believe you will quite enjoy the master bedroom. Based on our conversation I'd say it is exactly what you were looking for"
 

Treasure

Well-Known Member
The woman's eyes virtually lit up, and while she tried to play it cool, she couldn't help a slight smile. "Oh, my, yes, this is quite lovely," she agreed as she walked in and looked around. "The bathroom is even nice! I usually find those are horrible even when the rest of the house is amazing."

The husband nodded, a little less excited, but still approving. "It's a good space. I'd rather see the family room, and I think you said there was some extra space upstairs?"

"Ah, yes, we still haven't see upstairs," the wife nodded, calming.
 

KJDarKnight

You can make anything by writing -C.S Lewis
"It is rather common really for the bathroom to be the worst. It is the most used room" she reasoned "I believe it was remodeled though rather recently" she said, she did do her research before showing a house.

"Of course! Why not the living room first then I can show you the other rooms?"
 

Treasure

Well-Known Member
The pair murmured their agreement and took their time wandering from one room to another and inspecting such things as light fixtures and outlets. The wife appeared thoroughly sold on the house, but the husband was taking his time. He seemed far less impressed than his wife, though he did make comments about which wall they could hang their tv or where he could put his weight lifting equitment.
 

KJDarKnight

You can make anything by writing -C.S Lewis
Amara was pleased with how it was going, happy to answer their questions.

"This is the other room I.." she gasped as she stepped into the room and saw the dead rats and the blood. That hadn't been there the night before!
 

Treasure

Well-Known Member
Mrs. Erikson let out a shriek that could have woken the dead and pointed to the floor. "BLOOD!! I knew they'd been murdered! Murdered in this very room!" She put a hand to her forehead. "I think I am going to faint."
 

KJDarKnight

You can make anything by writing -C.S Lewis
"Oh no! No it just..I think an animal got in" she quickly guided them out of that room "I must have forgotten to lock a window I..I am so sorry ma'am!"
 
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