Chapter 5 - The Knock on the Door
Mark dropped the flashlight, plunging the basement into sudden, disorienting darkness before the beam stabilized against the damp concrete floor, casting long, writhing shadows against the stone walls. Clara screamed softly, grabbing Lily as the little girl wandered further down the steps toward them.
"Someone is inside the house," Clara whispered, her eyes wide with unadulterated terror as she pressed Lily against her chest. "Mark, check the front door. We locked it twice."
"Stay here," Mark commanded, grabbing a heavy rusted iron poker from beside the basement woodstove. He took the wooden steps three at a time, bursting into the main hallway with the heavy poker raised in defense.
The house was deathly quiet. The storm outside had paused momentarily, leaving only the steady, monotonous drip of rain from the gutters. The front door stood slightly ajar, the heavy deadbolt turned back as if a gentle hand had simply willed the brass mechanism to open from the inside. A puddle of fresh, muddy water had formed right on the polished hardwood floor just inside the threshold—shaped in the unmistakable outline of a small child's bare foot.
"Lily?" Mark called out, his voice trembling as he checked the empty kitchen and the quiet dining room. "Clara, she is not down here with you, is she?"
"She was right behind me on the stairs!" Clara cried out, rushing up from the basement with panic tearing at her throat. She searched the living room frantically, her eyes darting toward the open front door and out across the dark lake. "Lily! Lily, where are you?!"
May you like
Mark stepped out onto the front porch, the cold rain instantly soaking through his green knit sweater. Across the water, the abandoned house was completely dark now, its broken windows staring back at him like empty eye sockets in a skull. But sitting squarely on the porch railing right in front of him was a single, wet white stuffed rabbit toy—its cotton stuffing stained with old, dark mud.
---
