Chapter 6: The Sound Beneath the Floor
The metallic thud echoed again, vibrating through the white rug and straight up into the soles of Elena’s shoes. Maya stirred in her arms, letting out a soft whimper as Elena clutched her tighter against her red silk blouse.
"David, lock the door. Lock the nursery door right now," Elena pleaded, her voice trembling as she backed toward the corner of the room.
David didn't move toward the door. Instead, he took two long strides past the crib and pulled open a small, unassuming white panel set flush into the baseboard near the closet—an access hatch leading directly to the old chimney flue and the crawlspace beneath the house.
"Stay here," David commanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous, protective growl as he reached down to unlatch the metal hook.
"No, don't open that! Are you out of your mind?" Elena screamed in a frantic whisper, terrified of what might be lurking in the dark passages of the old house.
David ignored her, pulling the small panel open with a sharp squeak of rusted hinges. A wave of cold, damp air rushed up from the dark void below, carrying with it the faint, unmistakable scent of damp earth and old iron. Inside the pitch-black opening, something shifted—a soft rustling of fabric followed by the sound of heavy, deliberate breathing.
David reached into his pocket, flicking on the flashlight feature of his phone and thrusting the blinding beam down into the crawlspace.
The harsh light cut through the gloom, illuminating jagged stone foundations, cobwebs, and tucked tightly against the far corner, a discarded grey nurse scrub top identical to the one Clara had been wearing.
Elena gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
"She had a spare... Clara had a spare uniform hidden down there all along," Elena breathed, her mind racing to connect the terrifying pieces.
David’s face darkened with a fury that superseded his earlier rage. He reached inside the opening, grabbing the fabric and pulling it out into the nursery light. Tangled in the folds of the grey scrub top was a set of heavy iron skeleton keys—keys that fit every single antique lock in the historic house, including the master bedroom and the front gate.
May you like
"She wasn't just a nanny," David said through gritted teeth, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the keys. "She was scouting the house for someone else."
Before David could close the access panel, a sudden, violent scratching sound erupted from deep within the crawlspace wall, moving rapidly upward toward the second-floor ceiling right above their heads.
