CreepCast - We Used To Live Here | CreepCast

Episode Date: September 13, 2026

We got special permission to read the reddit version of Marcus Kliewer's story We Used To Live Here, now a published novel. Ready to be seen? Check that appointment off your to-do list with Zocdoc ✅ :  http://zocdoc.com/CREEPCAST #sponsored One thing to pack, five ways to power! Get 10% Off @Ridge with code CREEPCAST at https://ridge.com/CREEPCAST #Ridgepod Our listeners can buy one pair of glasses and get 20% off any additional pairs at https://warbyparker.com/CREEPCAST — and using our link helps support the show. #WarbyParker #ad Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Toronto, every arrival is a statement, and nothing says it better than this. Cadillac Optic was the number one selling luxury EV in Canada for 2025. Find your rhythm across a seamless 33-inch display and an immersive 19-speaker AKG surround audio system. This city demands agility, and Optic delivers with precision to make every drive extraordinary. Let's take the Cadillac. Find out more at Cadillac Canada.ca. Luxury sales claim based on S&P Global Mobility Canadian New Vehicle Total Registrations for calendar year 2025 for the Cadillac definition of luxury. Don't you wish you could just hit skip on the worst parts of your life?

You know the same way you can skip an ad? I get it. I'm Siaia and I live in Ice Cove. I've made some questionable decisions that didn't end up the way I planned. And today I'm still figuring it out. Somehow things usually get worse before they get better. Apparently, that's how I roll. So bundle up and come along for the bumpy ride.

Stream a new episode of North of North Tuesdays on CBC Gem. A Creamcast! We got a really exciting episode today. I'm fired up. Because we are reading a story from an author that the last episode we read was fucking awesome. Also, almost instantly became like a fan favorite. Oh yeah. It was such a good story.

Little things in the basement are moving. A little coat rack meme. So Marcus Cleaver, the author of The Thing in My Basement, takes a step closer every week. Every week, yeah. which got a ton of traction online. Marcus continued to write up. He was polter kites on Reddit, so a bunch of his stories just started to take off.

And one of his stories called We Used to Live Here became a book that Marcus has published through Simon and Schuster, right? It's like pretty big publishing house, and it's always cool to see these guys be able to take their stories and make them into like novels and stuff that, you know, they can make income off of and continue to write.

We love to see it. And Marcus and Simon Schuster have been gracious enough to give us access to the original Reddit post that has since been taken down because, according to Marcus in the message he sent after the book came out, the original Reddit story got a copyright notice because I guess Reddit thought he was plagiarizing his own story.

because it's now a novel, which is funny. But he still has all of the text from the original Reddit post. So he has given us that story to read, and this is the Reddit post that got turned into that book. What's kind of fun about that, though, is that this is going to be different than the changes and updates that are happening in there. So it's always fun whenever we touch on something

or we read an author that has translated their stuff until it may be a longer form book, because there's always updates. So you kind of get the best of both worlds of reading the original and then being like, ooh, what changed? After we read the thing in my basement is taking a step every week, whatever,

so many people I saw a post and tag us, whatever, or so many people I saw a post in the subreddit of like went out and got this. And I've been hearing good things. I'm excited to like also look at like the bare bones, like the first approach to the story, you know? I think it's going to give us a lot of sexy insight on.

I think even like Marcus was posting it on his story and we were talking about how cool you all are that after we covered that story so many people went and bought that that it made its way to, it was one of the top Amazon bestsellers

of like the couple weeks around the episode coming out. I think I've reached top 10 maybe for that week. Yeah, yeah. Some metric on Amazon. Yeah, it like you all are fantastic anytime we cover an author

and we're like, hey, they've got this stuff. that author always gets like propelled up from it. But I feel very lucky and stoke that, I don't know, the author was kind enough to give us like the first version. And also like talk with publishing, the publishing house and being like, hey,

you should let them read this because we have tried, transparently in the background. We have tried to be like, oh, is there other cool published books? Because we get that recommended a lot too, people being like, you know,

various new age horror authors that are published that are doing cool stuff that I think would fit really well. well with this channel. But, you know, it's, it, if it, if they're published, it's very hard to, like, actually get that go ahead. Yeah. But we used to live here. Um, is one that, like, after you guys started to pick it up and read it, you're like, a bunch of people have said, oh, you guys got to check this out. Got to read it if you can. So now we are going to be reading the original Reddit version. So if you like this, you can see the version two as it was adapted into a novel. And I think

that's really cool. Marcus even left us to a note that says aside from a couple typo fixes and two small line edits, I thought my instinct to do any changes from the Reddit post. There's obviously changes to the book. But this is other than those small edits preserve from the original Reddit post. And he said, I think it's best to share the story in its original form so people can see how it evolved. So that's what we're going to do today. A lot of fun. It's fun to have the spectrum of stuff of people coming from old creepypastas to now full-fledged published authors is a lot of fun. I think that they all kind of came from the same. I loved the thing in my basement takes a step closer.

I thought that the, I mean, there was so much in it worked that worked well from the characters, the misdirection to even the bear symbolism. I love to that came out at the end with him encountering a bear and stepping back. And just like, you know, sometimes it's best to leave that door shut, you know. Yeah. I'm a sucker for great characters. and I think like, I mean, you know, controversial opinion, but... I like it when things are good.

I like when characters are good in stories, which is pretty fucking stupid to say. But the, uh, pretty big fucking moron forever, actually uttering that into the world. But moral stories, I liked it too. I really didn't know what to expect when going into it. So I'm hoping that we get... Which, well, actually, I was going to say is,

I don't know what to expect we went into with that story. And then we ended up getting, like, blown away and had a lot of fun reading it. there's a level of level of prestige or hype with this motherfucker. So hopefully we'll see how would, uh, let's see how fairs up. Yeah. All right.

We'll see where it goes from here. I'm excited. Guys, if you want some extra content, we did interview Imperial Invective recently, who wrote Fleshgate, he wrote, it breeds, it breeds, it bleeds, it breathes, it bleeds, it breathes, it breathes, it breathes, it breathes, it breed, breed, a breed, it's one of my, it's a story that was right in my alley.

One of my favorite thumbnails we ever did. Yeah, I'm sure. I like that one. And my favorite of his is insourceled in the earth. But creepcast goat, one of the, we've read him a lot. And he's been one of the most vocal and, like, actively supportive members or, like, authors that have, has gone to even our subreddit, Tils from the Creep and, like, gives constructive feedback. Just genuinely a person that, like, wants to help other people be creative and be, you know, be a success. as they can in terms of like writing a story and getting started in that world. And I think

that's really cool. And we got to sit down and talk with them. It was really fun. And we have also done some bonus episodes recently, new stories and stuff. So if you want some extra content over there, go to Patreon.com slash creepcast. And then also if you're listening to this on Spotify or Apple podcast or even like YouTube music or wherever you can listen to podcast, consider getting us a nice rating. It does help us out. Isaiah, are you ready? I'm so ready. Let's do it. My body is ready. Let us begin. We used to live here, part one. The family on my doorstep looked normal enough.

Normal in a 1950 sitcom kind of way. Tall handsome dad, petite, blonde wife. Behind them, three young blue-eyed kids lined up by height. One girl, two boys. This was the type of family that showed up early to get the front row pew. Hello, miss. Set the father. Sorry to bother you so late.

Hey, how can I help you? I grew up in this house. Oh, nice. He cleared his throat. Would you mind if we showed the kids around? Like, like inside the house? He nodded. Show them where their dad grew up, if it's not too much of a problem.

Oh, uh, I'm not sure. My, uh, my girlfriend's coming home soon and... The mother winced at the word girlfriend, almost like someone had spat in her face. I pretended not to see it. The father smiled. We'd only need 10, 15 minutes tops. Yeah, I just, I mean, we're still moving in, and it's a bit of a mess, and say no more. Put up his hands in a little surrender and step back. This is all very last minute, and thank you regardless.

Muted disappointment fell over the kids' faces. We'll give you a proper heads up next time. Might be passing through another, I don't know, a year or two. They all turned around and stared back down the snow-covered driveway. Watching them go, my ever-present people-pleasing personality, he kicked into gear right on cue. Wait. Just 15 minutes?

Father looked back over his shoulder. Tops. Oof. My fuck, you know, burrow himself in the walls. Was Marcus inspired by one of my favorite King of the Hill episodes? Which King of the Hill episode? It's when an old woman comes to visit Hank

and she, like, used to live in his house, so then she wants to go in there and die because she wants to die in the house. and she refuses to leave. That's a really funny episode premise. It's great. Does she die in the house? I can't, I actually can't remember.

I think he lets her die. We'll find it later. Yeah. The, I can, I know it's such a weird interaction, but I can almost see that interaction playing out with some people I know. Like, oh yeah, we'll just swing by the house or girl. They'll be fine.

Don't let me into their home. thought of, have you ever thought about, I like, I've gone by my old childhood home and I've always wanted to just be like, can I, do you care if I walk around? Which is so invasive. Yeah. It's such a like, like, inappropriate thing to ask, especially because it's like, well, just because you lived here doesn't mean that like, you're going to just come over whatever you want. But that has been a thought before of being like, fuck man, I wonder what it looks like now. Yeah. But would you let somebody walk through? Because I tell you what, I wouldn't. So specifically our home where the couple who owned it before us,

had lived there since they were in their 20s, like way back in the 60s. And then now they were elderly and the husband passed. So we got a letter from the woman who previously owned it. And she was like, if it would ever be all right with you all, I'd love to see the place again. So we're probably going to invite her over at some time because it's like, I mean, she lived in that house for 60 years. Yeah.

Everything just that she knows is ripped apart and YouTube or swag hung up all over. I've got like neon lights everywhere. wearing like soundboards. RGB nano leaves up on the wall and stuff like that. Playing among us as loud as you can and she walks in the house. There's holes in the wall. Exactly. Stuff rip.

Yeah, what are these? Well, Isaiah gets mad and he punches holes in the wall. God damn it. Yeah, but, but I could, it's not an impossible interaction. No, I can see someone being like, oh, sure. Yeah. But I will say, I don't know. Yeah.

if I was a bringing the whole family along if it was maybe one person I don't know it would always be a no for me actually and how they think about it even with the nice letter and everything I take that letter

I'd like hmm over the shoulder so if like if the exact same situation happening you a woman's like I lived here with my husband I raised our children

just one last time is that you at the door yawn right in her face yeah listen lady I'm busy Yeah, I just have the office. The office theme song is just blaring in the background. Yeah, she's walking back to her car and she can see through the window you just sitting on the couch.

You take your shirt back off. Joking on my tongue with my sleep apnea, reaching for my seat bat machine. She's like, oh, my father was the one who put up the wallpaper in there. It's very special and it's very special. and it's very rare. She just looks inside. There's like just an Amazon Essentials TV stand just like fucking burrowed into the wall.

Amazon 75 inch TV, six feet away from my face. There's like pieces of the wallpaper just tore up on the ground. Just thrown with the bushes up front. No, it's not impossible. We're also one page into a story and we already have homophobia.

I think that's a record for the channel. She did wince. She did. Yeah. That's our record for homosexuality and homophobia. I think that's pretty fast. We used to live here. We used to live here. Setting new boundaries. We used to have straight heterosexual sex in this house. And you guys are ruining that. You guys are just like, oh, I'm sorry. Are we in the fucking French canals? The French? Okay. Don't cut it, but like a B.

No, no, go ahead. Go ahead. I think a beep. No, you can get it. Yeah, right. Well, Harry knows what to do. My girlfriend, Charlie, and I, just moved in. A killer deal on a two-story at the end of a quiet suburban street.

All surrounded by rolling hills in an old forest. Barbie's Gothic dream house. All right, let me change the voice. Barbie's Gothic dream house. Charlie joked. Needed some work. That was our thing. Fix up old houses, flip them.

move on, lucrative if you do it right. The neighborhood felt good too. The young married couple from across the street, Arpreed and Miguel, even invited us over for a game night next week, an actual game night. Two married couples playing board games. Isn't that like the settling down,

suburbia dream? Granted, Charlie and I weren't married yet, but we talked about it. And for some reason, this house was starting to make that feel possible. Anyway, there I was. alone on a Friday night when this excruciatingly perfect family showed up on my doorstep.

I tell you what it is a horror film is is a millennial couple buying a beautiful home to just destroy it. The house is groaning. Yeah. I don't know. Yeah, she, they're like standing,

I was like, I don't know, this brick is just so abrasive. Let's paint it white. You hear the house. kill me burn me down yeah burn me down the like

the number of times they'll see like a brick fireplace could turn into a drywall or like wood panel get ripped down for gray plaster it's like

oh my gosh it's cool it's so minimalist yeah the front of it let's just paint it white and black all of the spirit and soul let's just destroy all that I saw one

where I don't remember where this was but someone bought a house And it was like a brick like cottage in the outside had like black vertical paneling and like these big like, like, prairie windows with like the white boards through it and stuff. And they converted it. I don't even know how they did it. They may have just built over the brick to just gray concrete and the windows just like your normal giant single pane windows to look like an apartment. I like every, uh, I like every house looking like a dentist office. That's my favorite thing. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. You know what? I hate fun, spirit, joy. I hate architecture and things that remind me of humanity. I like things that remind me of Star Trek.

I hate things that you can tell people made with desires and passions. I think what, though, if this is a horror premise about house flippers, millennial house flippers, I mean, this is horrifying. We are in hell. We used to live here. When we were renovating our house, because it was an old house, but like the carpet needed changed and stuff like that. And we wanted to put up some more wood paneling and whatnot.

And I remember the contractors got there and like the carpenter came in and looked at the plans. and he looked at me and went, thank you. And I go what? He goes, this is the first renovation I've done where I haven't made it look stupid. I will say, one of my, I will say one of my favorite videos on the internet is the Instagram video of you guys

walking through your house with the people who did it. Oh, wow. Whoa. In the comments, like, and the comments were like, Isaiah's never beaten the gay youth pastor allocations. Because you're like, oh my God, this is so great.

Look at the cover tops and the backswash. This table looks so good. I'm bewildered. All right. We don't need to dox me on that. I didn't give your address. Well, it's an area, I guess. I mean, no, it's fine.

I'm saying you don't need to dox my shame. Oh. Because that video, they gave me, like, they're like, oh, do you care if we record it? I'm like, yeah, it's fine. I didn't sleep in two nights. I was working on a video or something.

I'm like, yeah, that's fine. And I was just, like, wearing a t-shirt. I showered last night, so I just looked like a slouch. and then they're like, can we record you? And they're like, yeah, okay, come in and they want these big reactions. Oh, my God. But I'd already seen the house like a week ago.

Yeah, yeah. You've already, you've already. I've already had all my like, wow, this is gorgeous stuff. I was like, cool. Yeah, because she saw, she actually came over three days prior and looked through the windows. Like, oh, looks beautiful. So we get there and I'm like, well, they want a reaction. So, wow.

I know. Oh, it's beautiful. Kayla, look at that. I mean, I'm happy with how it looks obviously, but I'm like, oh my lord, you guys outdid yourself. I did, I did watch that. I was like, cool. I did, I did watch that video after it was posted.

And I was like, why don't I sound like? When I buy a house, I want to, I'm going to pay Isaiah to walk through it. I'm going to record him reacting to my house. That's the, that's the, that's the test, though. That's just to see through. how good did they do with your house? If you walk through and you just do, hmm.

You're being uplifting, but you're not like, oh my Lord. Like if you're just like, well, they were super pumped about me seeing it. Because I didn't know. I'd seen it. So I'm like,

I wouldn't be a people pleaser, right? You know, I'd say, I'd say, fuck no, dude. Didn't you just bleed me dry? You just fucking blood eagled me and left me to fucking die. That wasn't, my feelings on it.

To be honest, that point, I was living in my parents' old place that had no furniture. I was like, please God, give me somewhere that has a couch. Your mom coming in every morning and giving your belly kisses waking up.

Little raspberries are you anytime she says, wake up. We have raisin bread toast waiting for you. Thank you, mommy. It's a mom thing, right? I followed them through the upstairs hallway. This room used to be painted blue, said the father,

pointing into a green walled guest room. strode forward and his family followed. This room. He nudged open a half-closed door. Used to be a library. That was just a storage room. Well, that's what it was until we figured out what to do with it. He kept walking, sharing a brief, mundane fact in each doorway.

And then he stopped in his tracks as if remembering something. Turning around, he stared at the wall, puzzled. What happened to the dumbwaiter? The what? He placed a hand flat against the wall. Used to be a dumb waiter shoot here. Uh, I... I don't know.

He slid his hand down until it snagged. Leaning forward, he squinted. Beneath the wallpaper was a square bump? A handle? Huh. He stepped back. Looks like somebody covered it up. He glanced towards the kids.

There used to be a dumb waiter shoot here. Went all the way down to the basement. They stared at him, confused. It's like a... many elevator. We used it for laundry. Kids nodded. Their mother checked the time on a wrist watch, then crossed her arms, impatient. As the father moved on, his family trailed behind. He stopped at the last room, a closed door, and reached out. He froze, silent. This used to be your anti-Abegall's room. He said, studying the door like it was a sad painting. Strange gloom hung in the

air. Since in a private moment, I cleared my throat. I mean, Villevere to keep sure, showing yourselves around. I'll be downstairs if you'd need anything. He looked back at me and smiled. Grateful. Wouldn't leave him alone. I wouldn't leave him alone. No, that's a little, that's a little too much, you know. I was downstairs now, hammer in hand, prying rusty nails out from above the fireplace mantle. Judging by the discolored rectangles on the wall, several small paintings used to hang here. But they must have been hung crooked, all shifted a bit too far to the right. just as I wrenched out the last nail

the family filed into the living room behind me the father strolled over to the basement door your grandparents used to measure our heights here you said running a hand over the frame smooth white finish all painted over now though you tried for the handle locked looking towards me you opened his mouth to speak but in the kitchen

the oven timer went off one second I said setting down the hammer I crossed over and turned off the timer. Father blinked at me. Can we get into the basement? Yes. Hands still gripped around the doorknob. Ah, shoot.

Sorry, we're renovating down there. Lots of tools laying around. Not exactly safe. Opening the oven, I pulled out steaming roast. We'll be careful. Lights are out too. I set down the roast. Don't work lights set up?

Not yet. His face twitched, for the briefest of moments. Then, all smiles. He released the knob and backed away from the door. All right. No problem. I hadn't even been down there yet, but according to Charlie, the basement was a little screwy.

Funky. Oh yeah, there's a quote. Go ahead. Fucky. There you go. An old labyrinth patchwork with extra bits added on over the decades. According to neighborhood legend, the house architect was a little eccentric, to put it lightly. All right, gang. Let's head out.

Don't want to overstay or welcome. He motioned his family into the foyer. But as they filed out, he mandered his way back towards the kitchen. Thanks again for letting us take a look around. It meant a lot to the kids. Yeah, no problem. Didn't look like it meant shit to the kids, but I kept that to myself. Liggering at the edge of the kitchen, he glanced back towards his family as if making sure they were out of ear shot.

Content turned to face me. Curious. This. This is kind of odd, but... Did you ever notice anything? Hmm. Commotion in the foyer cut him off. Excuse me.

He went to investigate. Intriged. I followed. By the front door, the two young boys argued over something while the mother tried to calm them down. Where's Ginny? Uh-oh. Said the father. No response.

The boys kept arguing. Where's Ginny? Boomed. Voice resonating was set in authority. The room fell silent and everyone. looked around. No Jenny inside. She, she was just here, said the mother. Ginny!

No response. He sighed, rubbing his temples as he turned back to me. I, I'm really sorry about this. Ginny, our youngest, she likes to hide. Hide? Spontaneous hide and seek. We've been trying to correct it, but... Jenny!

The mom called in the background. We should find her easily enough. Gosh, this is so embarrassing. Shook his head, blushing. No, it... It's okay. Turned away. Jenny!

Call out! He said trying to hide the irritation in his voice. Your reach is. I wasn't much of trying to hide that. Trying to hide the irritation. Here, I'll do another one then. No, no, no. Jenny, come on her out.

Call that eye, dude. Jenny! You little bitch! Get your eyes down here! Trying to hide the irritation in his voice As a family Search the house H.

Hahr! What do you get? Like, Willem to Fosang Hark? Sorry about that. She's such a little stinker. You run, pig! When I get a hold of you? Yeah. Oh, when I get my hands on you. I'm buckling his belt like whoosh whip it on the ground.

Trying to hide the irritation in his voice. It's time to talk about something scary. Your health. I know I don't go in the doctor as much as I should. If I'm feeling sick, I'll just lie in bed and sleep it away. But that's only because I don't want to have to deal with the appointments, insurance and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. That's why I have Zakh Doc. Zoc Doc is a free app and website where you can search

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a top-rated doctor today. That's Z-O-C-D-C dot com slash creepcast. Zocdoc.com slash creepcast. Thank you, Zoc doc, for sponsoring the episode. Back to our spooky story. As the family searched the house, I wandered up to the front door

and stared out the window. Now, gentle snow was falling. Where was Charlie? Should have been home 30 minutes ago. I pulled out my phone and two missed calls, both from her. Of course, I called back and three tones ring out. Voice mail.

Hey, Charlie. My phone was on silent. call me back when upstairs someone whistled one of the boys had found something call me back when you can drive safe tucking my phone away I hurried upstairs the family stood huddled in the middle of the hallway

facing the wall stepping forward appeared over the mother's shoulder to see what they were investigating a hanging flap of wallpaper had been torn back revealing the dumb waiter shoot rusty metal door jar no elevator cart inside

damn this could only be one thing Jenny the missing kid was hiding in the basement you think like when they were walking by something like a trapdoor spider just shot out of that shoot no I bet the fucking dad was just like

get your little monkey ass down there crawl into the shoot and get down there I feel like they're trying to implant them basement yeah yeah yeah or just I mean I don't I mean it's a horror story so I'm thinking that something more nefarious is happening but well he wants to see the base or or he wants to see the basement

Or even, to be fair, to be fair, he did, like, visibly show that there was, like, a handle or anything. She could have, like, while they were looking around, just popped up and went down. She could have, but I also feel like that thing where it's like, can we go to the basement? And he, like, gets mad for a second and then quit. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I mean, that was definitely suspicious for sure. It sounds, when he's like, have you noticed anything weird that, you know, he lived here, he probably had supernatural occurrences or something.

Or he is a supernatural occurrence. but he wants to go down to that basement for a reason really bad so i wouldn't say it'd be beyond him to like put her down there just like going down there walks past a white brick wall in the kitchen the coxed his head and looks it says uh it's like one of those like like wooden signs that says live laugh love or something was going to say uh not before my coffee yeah not before i've had my coffee it's like face twitching. What's this?

Oh, just a fun piece of art. Art. That is a justifiable reason to implant your kids into a home. Yeah, exactly. Hide in here and slit their throats while they sleep. Yeah. Kill them. Because we like coffee.

It's so much worse than that. Flashlights in hand. The father and I descended the darkened staircase. So much for the basement being off limits. The rest of his family lingered behind us. weary. At the bottom of the steps, the father looked around and huffed. His lights scanned through rickety shelves, aging support beams, and sagging cobwebs. Down here, the dad almost seemed nervous, like this place brought up bad memories. Know the basement well? Not really. Charlie's more

familiar with the layout. Charlie? Oh, that's my girlfriend. Right. Don't think I caught your name, by the way. Eve. That's a good name. Thomas my wife's page you can just call the kids headache one two and three you glanced at me expecting to laugh I managed to polite chuckle oh yeah I know I know I know also let they know this is 100% the hell of like probably being trapped in your home so much is like oh that's funny right so this one is this is headache one, two, and three.

Except you'd pull a gun off a shelf and back, laugh. Squatting down, he swept his light over the floor. He's probably in full on hiding mode right now. We should split up. A couple more ground that way. I mean, this is... This situation is such a nightmare, awkward scenario already and, like, uncomfortable. I'd also just be like, what the fuck do you mean?

Full on hide mode? I'm like, why don't you just yell for her to come out? I'd be, I don't know. This whole, I'd be pissed. I would be royally pissed. Of course. All gonna be in the walls at the next segment. Yeah, 100%.

They all disappear and Charlie gets there. Hey, Charlie, so, uh, living in the walls now. Yeah. I furrowed my brow, skeptical. You have to be quiet. Thomas pushed off his knees to stand. If you see Jenny, try and grab her.

Or she'll just run away and hide again. she's fast. Do they have like a like a savanna cat for a daughter? His voice strained with the exhaustion of having done this one too many times. You sure? Just grab her?

Yeah, it's fine. All part of the game. Looking to his right, he whispered. I'll go this way. You go that way? He nodded to the left. Sure. I replied, still unsure of the plan.

He turned and disappeared around the corner. I moved left and was greeted by a long, empty hallway. Creepy. I trudged forward. This sucked. Charlie was right. The basement was screwy. All sorts of nooks and pockets. Rounding the next corner, I shone light into a garage like room, mostly empty.

Save for a row of metal shelves. And sitting in the far corner, a coat rack. Coat rack. Coat rack. Coat racks also exist outside of the story. No, I don't. Nope. Okay. Yeah.

Coat rack beside a dozen or so empty picture frames. Cold draft pushed through me. Shivering, I stepped forward and... 100% though, it's at the basement. He made sure to include that for that. Oh, yeah. Yeah. Something clattered against the concrete. Startled, I turned to look and across the room.

Ten can rolled over the floor. A mess of nails and screws. Great. The stupid kid's going to step on a rusty nail. Get tetanus. And the parents are going to sue us. Strolled over. Set the flashlight down.

and used my hand to sweep nails back into the tin can. As I swept, the flashlight started to roll away. Uneven floors. Nice. I set my foot out to block it and... Something in the beam of light caught my eye. Or rather, hundreds of somethings. Ants. A trail of black ants marching along the bottom of the far wall. Fantastic.

Add pest control to the unexpected expenses list. Frustrated, I grabbed my flashlight and slogged over. The ants led around the corner, deeper into the basement, all marching in the same direction. Is that normal ant behavior? I'm supposed to march both ways? Vague memories from a Nat Geo documentary echoed in my head. Shrugging it off, I followed the trail. I rounded the corner into another long, unviting corridor.

The ants trooped into receding darkness. I can almost hear their little feet tapping against the concrete. Where were they going? Curiosity building, I crept forward. halfway down the hallway they took a hard turn into a makeshift wine cellar i stepped inside stone floor arched spray ceilings old empty barrel racks this room almost looked medieval the ants ran in a straight line towards the furthest back corner disappearing out of sight i crossed over and hunched down they filed into a crack at the bottom of the wall what's on the other side i raised my flashlight and behind me two quick footsteps

steps scraped over concrete. I spun around. About 20 feet away in the room's entrance, stood the father. Back turned. His posture was strange, almost rigid. Arms traded to sides, flashlight aiming at the floor. Motionless. Hey. No response. I stood up and glanced around the room. It was blocking the only way in or out. Thomas? Silence. That was his name. right clearing my throat I stepped forward a growing pit of dread in my stomach I was about to call out again but he started whispering talking to the blank space in front of him what are you doing down here happy we've been looking everywhere for you Thomas I said louder now no response he just kept talking to dead air exasperated I'm not shot much rock we can do this

I moved closer reached out touched the back of his shoulder in holy Christ Thomas spun around, setting a hand against his chest. You're a quiet one. He exiled, catching his breath. I stammered, still in a bit of shock. Collecting himself, he chuckled. He almost gave me a heart attack. I called for you like three times.

Who are you talking to? He stared at me, sincerely confused. Come again? You were whispering. You shrugged, unsure what I meant. Huh? Listen, lady I'm not going to ask you about your lifestyle, don't ask about mine

I'd be like, you know who can find your daughter? The police. As a matter of fact, I'll call them right now. You know what? Maybe she's upstairs. I'd go upstairs, lock the door down there and we'd call police and be like, yeah, so I don't know, this family is trying to live in my walls. They're trying to kill me and take the house. He shrugged, I'm sure what I meant. Disturbed, I looked back over my shoulder, just in to glimpse the last of the ants receding into the wall. Any luck?

Turning back, I shook my head. He nodded. Yeah, me neither. Claude a gyms of her, but she slipped away. Anyway, we should head up. Junior'll get spooked down here soon enough. Put up the white flag. Just leave my daughter in your basement.

I agreed. Besides, now I just wanted to get out of this basement. Upstairs, the rest of the family set around the living room fireplace, comfortable. Battle of the wills now. I'd be like, get the fuck out of my house. She's my daughter now, all right? Your fault for having...

She's dead. Having a freak daughter that loves to play spontaneous hide and seek. Sorry. She actually plays spontaneous combustion. He's head. Jenny! His wife gave a slight nod. Still unsettled.

I wandered off into the foyer by myself. Why weren't they more concerned about their missing kid? what just happened in the basement and more importantly where was Charlie? She should have been here like an hour ago pulled up my phone and the front door swung open Charlie stepped through

I'm late roads are shit getting shittier she said shaking off snow what's up with the moving truck the what there's a one ton parked oh my god they brought their shit

there's no way the what there's a one ton parked in the end of the. As if to answer her question, the father stepped into the foyer. Charlie shot him a puzzled look. This is Thomas. He grew up here as a kid. He was just showing his family around and

now our daughter is playing solo, hide, and seek in the basement. He said apologetically. Oh yeah? My brother used to do that. She shot out her hand for a shake. Name's Charlie, Charlie Bashan. They shook hands,

firm, single shake. Charlie was my emotional, polar opposite. chill with everybody confident, extroverted, trusting, and direct. Good at setting boundaries, too. Any hidden rooms or ghost stories we should know about? She asked, hanging up her jacket.

Thomas cleared his throat. It's a ghost-free house. Anyway, don't let us spoil your night. She'll give up any minute now and never seen her hold out too long. We can go sit in the truck if you want in some space. Charlie scoffed. Sit in the truck.

You might as well join us for dinner. I think we'll be all right. I mean, we had a big lunch. Lunch? Come join us, please. Eve always makes more than enough. Yeah, you know, Eve, classic Eve makes food for two,

winds up being food for seven, you know? You know how it is? Also, stuff in your one-ton pickup, or are you one-ton, U-Haul? You want to live here? Bring it in! Just move on in. Fuck it.

Thomas smiled tepidly, looking like he didn't want to impose. Part of me wanted to grab Charlie by the arm. Neckle her to drop it, but I didn't. Yeah. What part of that was you saying was Nick? Drawed by the arm and I was like, Nick. Oh, I'd be like, what I should do it?

I thought you said Nick. No, no, no. This is a Nick interact. No, this is Nick. You know, I used to live here, right? She hadn't seen Thomas's whispering episode in that basement. That being said, maybe I was overreacting. Had a bit of a reputation for that. Sure. But only if it's not a problem.

He glanced over at me as if checking for my approval, but I just shrugged, looking away. Wouldn't be offering if it was. Thank you, Charlie. The fireplace crackled, went outside, billowed. The creeks and groans of the old house filled the silence. Minus the daughter, we're all seated around the dinner table now. It's just like hours. I mean, I would be like, why are you not checking?

Why are we waiting? In the basement. Go get her. Yeah. The fireplace crackled, went outside billowed. Oh, I read that. Charlie reached across and grabbed a wine corkscrew. Maybe the kid will smell the food and give up. Checkling softly, Thomas picked up his fork and...

Thomas! His page, his wife. He sat down the fork, cleared his throat. Would it be all right if we set a quick prayer before eating? Charlie shot me a look. Not wanting to oppose. This is your house after all. Yeah, it's okay. Grateful, he smiled, bowing their heads. They shut their eyes. I never heard a problem with prayer.

grew up in a religious household myself. I still value some of the lessons, but for every great lesson, there was something that made me question who I was. Page cleared her throat. We'd like to thank Eve and Charlie, the host of this house, for allowing us to eat with them.

Considering how traditional this family appeared, I would have expected Thomas to lead the prayer. But as Paige prayed, glanced over at Thomas. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the tablecloth in front of him. Look distant. Almost out of place. Was he even religious?

I mean, down to the basement, he took the precious Lord's name in vain. So, page continued. We'd like to thank God for our health, our family, and our friends. We thank you for allowing us to have a fresh start as we move across country. Amen. I mumbled. Old reflex back from the dead. Charlie shot me another look.

This time with a playful smirk. I glanced away, embarrassed. That look you just gave me was not a playful smirk. imagine yeah you're like amen you look up and the first thing

you see is this you're putting some stink on Charlie I don't think she deserves I think she's being a little too friend no that was the dead oh so I thought that was Thomas

no no no I thought it was gonna be a creepy thing no no no no yeah so she looked up but she was just like yeah because Eve said amen yeah

and Charlie's like oh like there's the old Christian I thought it was Thomas being weird no no that's just Charlie being like ha ha ha Right. So, you're moving, huh? Twisting the cork out of a red wine bottle, Charlie poured herself a glass. What prompted that?

I needed a fresh start. Where, too? Oh, downstate. This is delicious, by the way. Page cut in, looking at Charlie. It's really appreciated. Don't think me, that's Eve, the master cook tonight. Charlie held up the bottle.

Wine? Thomas shook his head. Oh, we don't drink. Very wise, said Charlie. She lanced at the two boys. Listen to your parents, kiddos. Paige smiled. Opened her mouth to speak, but

the techno cover of Beethoven's fifth cut in. Don, don't, dun, dun, Charlie pulled out her phone. My bad. She muted it. She went to put it away. The screen caught her eye.

Oh, shit. She held it up for me to see. Notification. Dangerous driving conditions along the number 5 connector. Winter tires recommend. amended. Hmm?

Said Thomas. They're going to get stuck there. Roads are getting worse. Charlie tucked her phone away. Hopefully the kid shows up soon, huh? Oh, the kid will show up soon, huh? Oh, she will.

Just give her space. Charlie glanced at the time. Looks like she's going for the hide-and-sea record tonight. You guys got winter tires or? I used to drive long haul trucks year round. We'll be fine. Charlie grabbed the salt. this entire chain's up in the attic

We'll be fine Paige looked at him concerned You sure it's worth risking Mouthful of food he half shrugged Page deflecting Thomas' indifference Shifted topic Are you married? Us?

I asked She nodded Charlie almost scoffed Nope Paige There's some There's some animosity Underneath that nope for sure

Yeah she's just like I can fucking put a ring on it yet Fucking Eve, what the fuck's up with that? Page nodded again, as if to say, I expected as much. Are you religious? She asked, looking directly at me now. What, me? No, not really, I mean, I used to be.

Helly asked because I noticed a Bible and living room. Oh, I mean, that was a gift of my parents. We used to go up to church together. Smiling tight, Paige chapped her fork into the roast and started sawing with a steak knife. What about them? Who? yeah, starting to feel interrogated. Your parents.

Do they still go to church? Yeah. What denomination? Lutheran. Are they aware? Her eyes flick to Charlie. Them back to... Immediately.

Couldn't go five seconds. Of your disease? Do they know that you're a sinner? Do they know that? Have you told them? Her eyes flick to Charlie. Then back to me. Aware of what?

Page glanced at her. children as if the following words might be too much for their innocent ears. Of wearing you and your friend's lifestyle choices. Gosh. To be in this situation.

Also I'd be like, dude, get your rat fucking kid out of my house and leave. In the basement? Yeah. I don't give a fuck if it's a terrestrial blinter or winter outside. You are fucking leaving. Go. Yeah. Get out. They are. Lifestyle choices.

And they accept it? Uncomfortable. I opened my mouth to respond, but Charlie cut in, chewing on a mouth full of roast. What about yours? Page looked at her. Hmm? Your parents. They know about your lifestyle choices? Page furrowed her brow. I don't really understand what you're getting at.

She said pointedly. Page. Thomas intervened. That's enough. Page shared to Charlie for a long moment. Charlie didn't break eye contact. Finally, Paige looked away and. return to eating. You're in their house eating their food and you're like, no, I'm going to talk about.

Regardless of the food, your child has been in the house for what I only assume has been an hour. of the objective. To have the audacity to just be like, they know you're sick in the head, right? Or no? You're like, so insulting. I mean, I would seriously just be like, I'd be like, you need, you have 10 minutes or also. I would, I would just be like, cool, I'm going to call the cops. they can hype you find your kid. Yeah. Because it's too, I might give your kid space. You're in my home.

Yeah. You fucking unbelievably disrespectful. Oh, we have to wait for her to come out. I don't actually. It's my house. I can actually do whatever I want. I can do whatever one if I took this. In your house, you can wait.

You're technically a trespasser. There's actually no record of you, you know, being allowed into the house. I don't have a ring doorbell. Be funny if I was just like, well, they do understand our life's choices. And I can also take this crowbar. You put it in the roof of your mouth and Eve up as hard as I possibly could.

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Just head to Ridge.com and use code Creepcast, and you're all set. After your purchase, I'll ask where you heard about them. Please support our show and tell them that the cucks sent you. Thank you so much to Rich for sponsoring the show. Now, hey, back to that episode. Page stared at Charlie for a long moment. Charlie didn't break eye contact. Finally, Paige looked away and returned to eating.

As a chronic conflict avoider, I was actually relieved when Thomas stepped in. But Charlie, she was chomping at the bit, ready to battle. Did I not been there, she would have gone at it until Mary Magdalene started crying. I was only curious. Right then, a blistering gust of wind slammed against the windows. The house lights flickered. Thomas looked over his shoulder. I'll put the power holds out.

Turned back to the table. Went down all the time when I lived here. He said, trying his best to change the topic. The rest of the meal dragged on in tedious silence. The table had been cleared. The kitchen had been cleaned. Now, I was leaning over, setting kindling into the fireplace. Outside, it was a full-on blizzard.

when whipped the quick piling snow into a frenzy. Thomas had already gone down to the basement several more times. But still, no Jenny was in sight. I still couldn't shake how calm he and Paige were about it. Calm might be an understatement. It was bordering on apathetic. Eve? said Thomas, stepping into the living room.

Yeah. I replied, crumbling a ball of newspaper, kindling. No any nearby motels by chance. Hmm. Nothing close by that I can think of. Silence hung in the air, almost like he expected me to say something more. I continued. I mean, worst case scenario, you guys can crash here for the night.

Oh, God. What? Now, you got a U-Haul. Light of fire in there. Keep yourself warm. You can crash here for the night. There's probably a 24-7 Walmart or a McDonald's nearby. Have fun.

You can also get some harsh bars. If these were like, if the... Okay. Yeah. You know what? You know why this bothers me? Because I could 100% see my, if Kayla was not with me,

I would talk myself into this situation. That's why. I was going to ask you, I was like, could you see you getting the situation? Not this far, but inviting them in. If I was,

if I was without Kayla, I would be the, just stay the night. Look at the cover tops and the back splash. This table looks so good. I'm bewildered. I said. And I don't know.

would be the wrong decision, but I couldn't, I could, now if Kayla was there, you're going to make a fine, a very fine skin lamp when you get murdered. I like, okay, I would a million percent do the, oh, come in, right? Yeah, 100%. Um, the dinner thing, I would be like, I would probably do the dinner thing. It'd be a little reluctant. Now, with the whole added layer of like, oh, she's in, she's in, she's in basement somewhere. I would not quit doing that. I would be like, we have to find the child. Yeah. The level of like, oh, it's a game. I mean, I'd be like, I mean, that's fun and everything for you. That's fun. That's fun for 90s. There is a, there is a child in this fixer upper that we do not know where it's, yeah. Yeah, there's a child running around the basement. 100%. Um, I would be like,

we're not leaving that. But even like, remove the child thing from the scenario. It's just a family sticking around. I think that they could get you to do it. I would definitely invite them to dinner. You would have forgot about the kid. Because you would have the thing about you. If someone could try like, I love that shirt. You'd be like, oh my God. Thank you.

And you'd get, you'd get caught up a matter. That'd be a little harsh. I have got mad at people before. Really? Yeah. Oh, yeah. Oh, okay. Yeah. Rarely, rarely.

I've got screaming mad at people before. Really? Yeah. I would not have expected that. Yeah. Yeah. It's rare. But it can't have, but it takes a lot.

it takes so much. To me, this is a lot. This would be at my... To me, this is still like entryway. To me, they're not even... Aside from the daughter getting lost, the daughter getting lost thing and their behavior around that, yes.

But if the daughter was not lost, if a family's like, oh, I used to live here, I'd be like, come in, and then I'd invite them to dinner. And then if it was snowing, I would invite them to stay. Well, here's the thing.

Follow question, though. So you get the girl out of the walls. So they're all seated out having dinner, but then they start making passive-aggressive... Comments or religion. About your religion. Do they get the same? of the night.

Because that's the thing, too, is like it's so much beyond that, but it's also like, now it's like the most condescending conversation of like looking at your lifestyle and judging you. All right, all right. As the snow is falling.

Hold on, hold on. There's layers to this. So if I'm by myself and they were making, you're going to hate this. If I was by myself and they were making passive aggressive comments about my religion, right? And then

it's like after dinner or whatever in my head again by myself I'd be like I'm going to win them over I'm going to show them just how kind Christian man can be you're so dead a million percent

I would be like y'all should stay the night all your kids and stuff I'll make breakfast like I would be there's that skin lamp coming there's that skin lamp

you know what if we were gay together I would be the the voice of reason, I would say. Yeah, you'd be my Kayla. No. Yeah. I got to take his ass. So, so for your, you, what?

Please. That's like, Harry. Sata or something. You blurt. Don't look to him like he's going to delegate this. He did. Would you tell him to stop? No, I'm talking about, because I can't stop you, but he can in the edit.

Harry, please. I need to just like blur. We can also keep reading. No, hold on. Hold on. The point I was trying to get to get to the bottom of. The point I was trying to get. to is Kayla would have said no at the door, right?

So everything afterwards she would be enraged about. And if we were, if we were sending at dinner and like, like Kayla's tattoos, for example, say the wife was like, oh, do your parents, are your parents religious? They know they have those. That would be the like, it's getting pretty late. Y'all should probably go thing, right? But like, Kayla would have been like, no, you can't come inside. Like there would have been no further steps or things like that.

That renovation video is so illustrative now of both of yours dynamics with the outside world. Yeah, because I'm very like, ha-ha, little blah, blah, blah, blah. And she's like. And she's like, yeah, looks good. We have a joke between like the friend group back home, the Kayla face, right? Like anyone who isn't someone we know approaches us or whatever. And someone just something is mundane is like, oh, what, what food did you order?

I want to get that. Or like, oh, I like your shirt. She'll always go. Like, just immediate, like, who's this stranger? I don't like you. Go away. Blah, blah, blah. So I would be there like, yeah, of course you guys can come in.

And Kayla would be over my shoulder like Batman. So. Isaiah, don't check your phone right now. I don't like that. Hunter, the amount you've sent me gay porn. Okay. Well, we're using the word porn loosely here. One of them shirtless.

This is a still image. The implication, sir. Okay, I didn't read the, I didn't read the title. Yeah, the caption is. No, that. I'm just saying that you playing. He's, he's, that could be us right now, man.

We need an HR department that I can go to. I got a couple. I got a couple Bick razors. No, you don't want Allison as HR. All right. She'd be like, do it. I'm scared. Point being,

point being a million percent I would find myself in this situation. I think so too. I regretted the words the second I spoke them. But in my defense, their daughter was still missing. What was I going to do? So they'm off into a blizzard, one kid short. Yes. Yeah, yeah, that's fine.

Are you sure? We wouldn't want to impose. We can sleep in the truck, too. I mean, you've already done so much. No, it's fine. Oh, thank you, Eve. I'm sure Jenny will show up soon, but just in case she doesn't,

that really means a lot to us. We can compensate you financially for the trouble, too. That's okay. But sure enough, Jenny remained a no show. About another hour clocked by until the family finally retired for the night. I mean, bro, how are the cops not been called? Yeah, call the police. Fire department.

Anybody. The actual response to this situation, assuming you let them in, the daughter's missing, is to look hard for like 20 minutes and being like, we should call someone, you know? Yeah, I'd be freaking out. We're not having dinner. We're calling someone right now, yeah. But sure enough, Jenny remained a no show. about another hour clocked by

until the family finally retired for the night two boys into an upstairs guest room, Thomas and Page into adjacent bedrooms. Despite being married, they didn't sleep in the same room. Yikes almost felt bad for him. God, that'd be heaven. I thought about implementing that.

God. I wanted a two-bed set up for a while. Why? I like, you know why? I run hot. Me too. And then I wake up. and I'm in a fucking pool of sweat

because she's sweating. I'm fucking sweating. And I have to have a giant fan on me, but it can't be at a certain angle because then she gets upset because it's like the wind or like the like wind will like wake her up if it's blowing her face.

But I like it when it's just like all in my face. It's two different setups. Right. And I think they too, I can go in there and play Legos. She has her boyfriend show up. I just hate being in the room while it happens, I guess.

It's a biggest thing. Yeah. It's too loud. A chair is fine, but in the bed. Easy with her. That's what I say. Hey, pal, that's my wife. She's not supposed to have been like that.

That's a really, that's a good bit. The dude in the chair like, hey, pal, that's my wife. Yeah, careful. Hey, buddy. Watch it. Honey, you're all right. She's like, shut the fuck up. It's all put in my mind because of the cuckies thing.

That's all that's all that's in my mind. I asked my wife about it and even she knew about it. I was like, kind of the fuck did I miss this. Dude, it was so funny because it was like dropping information. That should be a creepcast episode. We read the entire transcript. Alone at last, Charlie and I shared a blanket on the living room couch. The warmth of the fireplace filled the room.

Charlie leaned forward, grabbed a bottle of wine off the coffee table, noticing the hammer and bent nails from before. Took out the nails. She looked up at the empty wall. From about the fireplace? Yeah. What? That's where I was going to hang her crucifix.

Stop Leading back She twisted the bottle opener into the cork You see you on edge tonight Something up? I mean Besides our new roomies I just Something feels off about them

Yeah agreed But something feels off about everyone to you She popped the cork out And started pouring herself a glass I know I just I need specifics Before you got back Thomas and I were in the basement

Looking for the kid and Charlie finished pouring, set the bottle down, and looked at me attentively. She used to say I overreacted to things, but lately she'd been working on her empathy and active listening skills. The effort was appreciated. In the wine cellar, I heard footsteps, and when I looked back with the dad, Thomas, he was just standing there, back turn, blocking the entrance. I called out like three times, but he didn't respond. He just kept whispering to somebody named Abby. I think that was his sister's name. But there was nobody there.

And then he just snapped out of it. So he was standing in the doorway whispering? Was he talking to the daughter, maybe? No, her name is Jenny. I don't know. Maybe I'm overreacting. What do you think? About the family?

Yeah. Charlie took a long sip. To me, casual bigotry aside, chanted me with a glass of wine. They seem pretty unremarkable, or at the very least, I doubt they're going to murder us in her sleep. don't speak too soon charlie yeah exactly charlie shifted her weight a shiny glint caught my eye i turned to look she's wearing a new necklace thin silver chain with an oval locket what's that it's a necklace

rolled my eyes charlie reached down popped open the locket and held it up inside was a photo a blurry picture of me hiding my face behind a single hand i remembered the moment instantly when we first started dating, Charlie always joked about how less than zero photos of me existed. I was notoriously camera shy. Still am. So one day, Charlie, 35 millimeter pin tacks in hand, snuck up from

behind me. When I started the last second, turned away, held up my hand, and hid my face. Close call. Charlie clicked the locket shut. It's the only known photo of Eve Palmer. When did you get it made? Today in town, a little cheesy, huh?

No, I think it's sweet. Charlie was never the sentimental type But that was a big sap So the locket was a welcome surprise Stared into each other's eyes For a long moment And then behind us Thomas stepped into the living room

Groggy Rubbing his eyes Glanced down Surprised to see us there Hey Said Charlie Mind if I said Sure

I really did Dude We're all getting ready To Les out Oh, Charlie and Eve getting busy. So is this where the scissoring thing happens or? Thomas. He just starts having a really like Reddit conversation about like.

So tell me. How does this actually work? The moment his wife's the way he reverts to that voice. Exactly. I know something of lady. myself. Yeah, exactly. What is it? Menagerie?

100%. That whole interaction about like the necklace and everything is very like one week to retirement coded, you know? Like. Oh, like one last job and then I'm out. Yeah. Like in every horror movie, it's like, oh, the young couple in love and everything. It's like that's who's going to die. Yeah, 100%.

Charlie ain't making it out of the story. Well, at first I thought I was going to say that the lock was something that she found in the house and she's like, I'm just been wearing it. And I was like, well, that's not good. But yeah, it definitely is going to be something where it breaks off or she's going to find it later or something. You know, it's going to have some significance, I think, in the story. So I know this is hard for you to imagine a situation where you're being this hospitable. But if you were to imagine, you're in the same circumstance, dudes in the house, you know, been kind enough or whatever in the middle night.

He's like, can I sit and talk, right? I would almost say you would let him because there's clear. weird stuff going on and you want to learn what you can. Even that comment he made in the kitchen, like, have you noticed anything strange? I would want elaboration on that, right? So I would talk with him to be extremely passive aggressive.

Okay. I don't think you would be passive aggressive. I think you'd be aggressive. I would definitely be passive aggressive to make him feel uncomfortable that I was really, it wouldn't be, I would be like, hmm, your kids really good hide and seek, huh? I'd like, I'd guilt trip him to not sleeping and being like, probably should probably get looking for your daughter, right? She's probably scared right now.

A lot of rusty nails down there. I bet it's cold. Yeah, it'd be a shame if I went downstairs with a ballpin hammer and started swinging violently. I set up all those bear traps earlier. Oops. Exactly. There's about 600 rat traps downstairs. There's also all that water I pour next to that open electrical current.

I was going to start putting buckets of bleach around the entire house. Did I mention there's a boiler down there that's about to blow? It's a bad gas leak down there It's like a Willy Wonka death factory down there Yawning he wandered over to an armchair Beside the fireplace and slumped down Flickering shadow stands on his face As he looked around the room

Zion seemed to fill with memories After a long, ponderous silence He finally spoke By parents They used to make us stand in that corner over there Cool He pointed across the room called it the quiet corner

chuck leaning he leaned back in his chair his eyes cut the bottle of wine may I go for it said Charlie he leaned forward grabbed the spare glass and poured so much for not drinking trouble sleeping setting the bottle down he nodded

and took a sip your kid should give up soon enough Charlie reassured him he nodded again detached they're not even ours he said looking into the fire now their own wife's deadby brother-in-law's kids. We adopted them. Oh. God, this guy's in hell.

Yeah. Yeah. God. Yeah, he's just like, she's like, we don't even, we don't drink, do we Thomas? Nope. 100% that motherfucker's going down to the bar every night. Immediately tries to pick a fight with the lesbian homeowners. And he's just like, oh my God. He else is like, yeah, it's the deadbeat brother-in-law's kids. Yeah. Doesn't sleep in the same bed as her. Man, my motherfarks playing night crawlers every night hiding and shit. He's just like,

you're like holy fuck I will say I mean it could all be a lie right but him showing some level of like discomfort well there's a facade for sure he's playing a character in front of the family but seeing that facade drops them here

makes me feel a bit better about him not being a monster killer I disagree entirely I think it's something to do with his sister because he's like this used to be Aunt Abigail's room and he was talking to Abby in the basement. Maybe like she died here and her spirit haunts the house or something. I don't know. I mean, fuck man.

He's going to get a little Dionysus in his belly and fucking start getting a little loose lip probably. You know? I think that the alcohols probably unlock some demons as I assume. I will say this kind of like cabin fever set up is a real, not camp fever, locked in a cabin set up has been so far a very cool way to like unfurled this story. You know, like they have to be stuck there for a reason. It's a little creepy, but kids do weird things, I guess.

And now, like, up late at night, he's talking, stuff like that. It's very interesting narrative. Uncomfortable silence. That's good of you. I offered. I guess. Didn't have much of us saying it, though. Taking another sip, he turned away from the fire.

Sorry about my wife's comments earlier at the dinner table. I never got the obsession with people's personal lives. Pretty sure Jesus has more important things to worry about. Charlie and I nodded appreciating his effort at the very least he seemed well-meaning he checked the rest of his wine

and set the glass down anyway I'll let you be he started to say okay that that was the whole interaction you want to come down and apologize for that and stuff

it's a very human normal thing what have you say there man skin skin lamp is all I got to say probably would it be be my face or would it just be like the

Edgain patchwork? It'd be a bit of all of it but I think those fucking lips would be covered up the entire top of that. I knew you would get to the lips. Okay. Every time. Small miniature is a lamp that you could have in your desk.

Like instead of the leg, it's just the lips. Then there's a little. Yeah, like the Christmas story. Old man the future takes out. Mama me! It's a giant puppy lips. Wrapped in lace. Yeah. All right, I don't know about the lights.

It was a little more. He started to stand, but... Earlier, you wanted to tell me something? Thomas stared at me, puzzled. Before your daughter started hiding, you asked if I had ever noticed anything... I clarified. Oh.

He said, understand you now. It's stupid. It's nothing. Turned to leave, but... Wait. Said Charlie. No, I'm curious. He sucks. died. It's just weird things happened here when I was a kid as all. What kind of weird things?

Charlie never believed in ghosts, but she sure as hell loved hearing stories. So did I. I mean, I don't know, like it's haunted. Thomas paused debating whether to share more. Relenting, he sat back down. Let out a long sigh and then... We've been living here for about three years when my sister started to believe the house was changing. She'd wake up not recognizing her own room. Said weird things like the walls were a different color now.

The furniture was getting swapped out, but she was the only one who could see it. To everyone else, myself included, it was just the same house like it always was. Paused. Rubbed in square chin with a knuckle. Mom and dad told her it was just nightmares, delusions, but then she started forgetting faces.

People she'd known her whole life became strangers. our parents never took her to the doctors. They didn't believe in that. They believed in prayer. So we tried that for about half a year or so. And then she just vanished. She just vanished. And now the fucking hurt,

his weird half daughter is also gone. Not even half. It's his wife's brother. No biological relation to the child. Man, that's a cool premise. I thought it'd be like ghost or spirits or something, but like a, like a not i know i bring it up every five minutes but like a house of leaves kind of like shifting

room geometry well it also makes the initial uh walk through the house a little more interesting because he's even just like questioning himself like oh is this here i think he's like trying to find that like relation with his sister trying to like get on her level but then it's like brought back to them being like oh no we painted the wall and he's like oh there's even that comment earlier where it's like this room used to be blue you know And then he's like since painted green Like he shakes it off almost Yeah I mean it's interesting from a flipping house standpoint

Of having that kind of weird Back story. It's very fun. Yeah, yeah. Thomas went silent. Eyes flicking back and forth Across the far wall. One winter, she just disappeared In the middle of the night.

Police did a three day search and nothing ever showed up. He shook his head again. But about one week later A witness came forward said he saw a young girl down by the river that night, standing on the kettle bridge. Cubs said she probably jumped. Case closed, right? Made sense to my parents, but I just...

Brode his brow. Wayne, his next words, carefully. It's strange, but... Pardon me, wondered if she ever even... I was paused for a moment. Despite all the searching, all the dimeing teams, they never found anything. I just... Stopped himself again.

Looked towards us. Anyway, it's about it He said with somber finality I was apologizing for the dark story I'm really sorry to hear that Said Charlie He gave a slight shrug and turned towards the fire I guess I thought coming back here would bring some sort of closure

But trailed into silence Muffled wind Aking creeks and groans from the house filled the empty space I didn't know what to say Thomas's gauge drifted up to the blank Paintingless wall above the fireplace man His face twitched ever so slightly. Anyway, I should get back to sleep.

Pushed up to stand in. Good night. Night. Drifted out of the room and went back upstairs. Charlie waited a moment to be sure if he was gone. What the fuck? Fair enough. We went to bed shortly after.

Charlie was out in five minutes flat. But after hearing that story, I lay wide awake, staring up at the stucco ceiling. Considering what happened, why would anyone bring their family? back here. How was he even sleeping while his daughter was still missing? I couldn't shake any of this.

Finally, after two hours or so, somehow managed to fall asleep. I wonder how much of that if any is a lie because there was that thing he said in the basement where it sounded like he was talking to Abby and what was it? He said, you, uh,

I thought you wanted this or whatever. It's almost like he planned to do something. here. Maybe he knows that his sister's still in the house somehow, you know. A distant clang snapped me awake. I sat up, listened carefully. Went outside.

Clock ticking, Charlie breathing. Okay, you're fine. Climbing from bed, I stretched up my arms and shook out my hands. Maybe the dad's story was getting to me. Either way, I needed a glass of water. Downstairs in the kitchen,

I set lukewarm tap water from a tall glass ruminating on the strangeness of everything. When will that stupid kid finally show up? Across the living room, the basement door was wide open. Maybe the kid finally caved. Sitting down the glass, I crossed to the top of the steps and peered down. Uninviting darkness. No, thank you.

I was about to close the door when, at the bottom of the stairs, a small silhouette. Motionless, child-sized, enveloped by shadow Jenny Missing kid I squatted down to appear less intimidating Same way one does

When trying to coax an unfamiliar cat Hey Ginny I said almost whispering Your parents are really worried about you Didn't it be a good time to come back upstairs Her head tilted But otherwise She remained motionless

Now I could see the slightest glimmer in her eyes reflecting the moonlight. A long silence dragged by until I realized something else she wasn't blinking. 10, maybe 20 seconds had gone by and she hadn't blinked

not even once. What the hell? And then, as if reacting to my realization, figure slowly rose to stand. It wasn't child size after all. It was only hunched down. Now, standing at their full height,

the person at the bottom of the stairs must have been six feet tall. In one quick motion, I jumped upright and slammed the door shut. Then I scrambled upstairs with record-breaking speed. No, thank you. I shook Charlie awake. What? There's something in the basement. There's someone in the basement.

Charlie blinked at me. Yeah, the kid. No, an adult. Charlie shook her head and reluctantly pushed up to sitting. How do you know? I saw them on the stairs. They were tall. Charlie sighed.

I could tell part of her wanted to believe me, but mostly she was just tired. In her defense, I had a long history of freaking out over things that turned out to be nothing. Was it dark? She asked, trying and failing to sound patient. Yeah, but Eve. I'm exhausted and still a little drunk. Can we figure this out in the morning? Charlie, I know what I saw.

I know, I believe you, but not enough to look around the basement at three in the morning. I didn't want to let it go, but Charlie was close to a breaking point and barely awake on top of it. Okay. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was just a trick of the light. Maybe my paranoia was getting the better of me once again, but Charlie rolled away and rose back to sleep. So beside her in bed, staring at the cracked open door until finally I fell asleep too. I don't care how much of a nuisance I am.

you're checking on the six-foot-tall shadow Yeah, I've seen stuff before them Like, I almost look like a person But I shake it off. But if I had that, like I'm staring and I'm blinking And it's still there and it's not moving stuff. If you feel like you're in the corner of your eye, maybe, but a full on

I was there for a minute. Yeah. Yeah. Also, I was almost thinking at first, I thought it was going to be the dad. I thought it was Thomas. And he was down there and all of a sudden you, like, stood up.

Could be. or I was actually thinking Paige Well they said she was small and petite But still I mean she gave some supernatural thing She can grow or whatever But if I was like I mean there's been times before Where I thought I've heard someone in the house

Or thought I've like saw someone in the house And stuff like that Do you go check? Yeah with a gun I'm not just like, is anybody there? Sometimes I feel like I hear stuff And I just I like I'm too lazy And too fat to do anything about it

So I'm just like if you're gonna give me you're going to get me. There ain't no if, hands or butts about it. There's not going to be a struggle. What's your procedure if someone breaks in to do you harm? They're going to do harm. They're going to get what they want. It might be about it.

I might tell us and be like, you're just fucking skedaddle. I'm going to sit there. I'm going to lean back into my king-sized bed. So it comes in to kill you. I look at the guy holding the knife or gun. I just say, not the face. And then,

not even an attempt to now now I'm good I'm done I realize yeah there's not a lot that can be done I mean you can shoot them

I can't be bothered I'm gonna make I'm gonna make a zip line from her window to some escape route she can just slide her happy ass down that thing the zip line from her separate bedroom yeah from her bedroom

From her bedroom. That's true. Yeah. Actually, if anything, you know, I do, I lock the door and I, I'm, uh, I set up a speaker system. So all the sounds coming from her room and it diverts the ditches there. And then I run away. Yeah. I'm in here. You hear someone break in and you're just like, peep.

Yeah, you see my fad ass running down the long driveway. You have a sign on your door that's like, she's that way. Yeah, exactly. It just says utility closet on the front of my door. There's a bunch of mobs and shit outside of it. Alson's, why are you decorating me like that? Mm-mm. No idea.

Are you and your boyfriend getting along with? Maybe her boyfriend a defender. I wait to, I stay outside and I look at the windows until I hear pop-pop. And then Allison's just like, how are you out there? And I'm like, oh, thank God. Her boyfriend. Let her boyfriend take care of it. What's that name?

You always say your son. You have some fictional name for like a child. You have the baby doll? Oh, Modine? Modine, that's it, yeah. So where does Modine stack into this? Say you have like five Modines. Modin's been dead for like a year.

No, I'm saying like in this scenario, imagine you have kids. Okay. Where does the order of priority go between like Allison and the kids and stuff? Oh, like what am I doing with Modine? Yeah. Please.

Who's been out? First off, too, this is horrible. I'm going to say this. Never mind. Go ahead. if there was a life or death situation if there was a life or death situation and it was a thing where it was like we had a baby

that had no idea of the world I'd be like Allison we can make a fucking other one okay I mean that little motherfucker ain't gonna even know what's going on if anything I'd probably take the kid that's what I'd say

no integrity I mean it's horrible so would you the secret dear exactly it is it is Would you point the arrow to the child's room instead of Allison's? Where do you want the intruder to go? Anywhere I'm not. And if they're with me, and here's the thing, if they're with me,

I could potentially help them, but like, I'm not going to go out of my way, I guess. Like, I'm not going to be crossing hallways, you know, like I got my escape. I'm not going to leave the room. No, no, exactly. If you're in the room with me and I have my zip line set up, and you have the deal. You can come with me. It's probably about it.

I plan on dying alone in this lifetime. I mean, with this defense description, you're working your way towards it. Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. You're taking all the right steps. Oh, well, yes. Yeah, yeah. Warm beam of sunlight raves me awake.

I look to my side. Charlie wasn't there. Stretching my arms, I climbed out of bed and yawned. All the strangeness of yesterday felt smaller in the morning light, like a fading nightmare. As I stepped out into the hallway, the smell of breakfast filled the air. Eggs, bacon, coffee,

the only meal Charlie knew how to make. Downstairs, I wandered into the kitchen. Charlie was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Thomas stood over the stove, humming a happy tune, making scrambled eggs. his family, might have seen my kid

set at the table and lingered on the edge of the kitchen at a loss. Thomas looked towards me and smiled. Morning, Eve. How do you like your eggs? Where's Charlie? Who?

My girlfriend. Oh, she mentioned something about picking up a generator from town for the basement. Raised an eyebrow. Leaving without telling me. I wasn't like Charlie. She didn't want to wake you.

Remember everything okay? Yeah, I'm good. Unsettled. Stept around the corner and pulled out my phone. Time to call Charlie. Tap the screen and... Nothing. I'll hold down the power button.

Nothing. Dead battery. Paced up to the bedroom and plugged it in. Still nothing. I blew in the socket. Nope. Factory reset? Nata.

I definitely charged this thing last night. Charlie, I'm... plug it and put hers on? Maybe. Regardless, I kept my phone plugged in just in case it started working again. I returned downstairs. Back in the kitchen, Thomas had joined the rest of his family at the table. Can I borrow your phone?

Looked at me, chewing a mouthful of eggs. He swallowed. Don't have one. I blinked in disbelief and looked at Paige. Can I borrow yours? She shook her head. We don't have phones. Modern family without cell phones.

might be the strangest thing to happen yet. You think he's gonna try to gaslight her into thinking that she's the sister? Interesting. It's not a bad idea. A little fucking Shutter Island kind of meme. Yeah.

Could be that. Could also be the like they're disabling the phone and she disappeared in the house just like Jenny did or something like that. I just wonder who the one in the basement was because they said Abigail

died when, or she disappeared when they were kids, right? That's the implication I got. Yeah, well, I think the whole thing was that she ran away and then supposedly they saw her jump off a bridge but no one saw the body. No one covered the body. Yeah, yeah. So she got lost in the house. The house, yeah. What was going on here?

Frustrated, getting more weirded out with each exchange, I turned for the foyer. Just borrow the neighbor's phone. Halfway across the living room, I stopped short. Above the fireplace, where I'd removed the nails, an unfamiliar painting now hung. A large painting of a tree line, the edge of a dark, green forest. Vaguely familiar, looked old, almost menacing. I glanced towards the living room coffee table.

The hammer was gone. Did Charlie put it up to troll me? Maybe, but it seemed a bit much, even for her. Throne, I continued to... for the front door. I needed to phone Charlie now. Dressed for winter. I stepped down onto the driveway and my heel crunched against something. Looking down, I lifted my foot. Buried in the snow was a small, shiny object. Charlie's locket.

End of part one. Holy shit. Oh, boy. Guess what else we have? guess what else we have the Marcus Cleaver special Oh is this uh is there code It says where Where Okay like W-H-E R-H-E

W-H-E Okay All right Part two Get to the neighbor's house Pushing forward down the driveway I tucked Charlie's necklace into my back pocket Maybe she dropped it by accident

Doubtful Regardless My goal didn't change get to the neighbor's house call Charlie find out where she is why she left without telling me at this point I was even considering

calling the police but what would I tell them I had a family of five into my house I think they put up a painting not exactly police priority call Charlie first evaluate from there the storm was getting worse as I dredged down the road

freezing wind swept through me down into the forest at the end of the street my face stung teeth shattered eyes burned fun finally i reached harpeda miguel's place i meant green bungalow with the meticulous but snow-covered japanese garden out front i gave three sharp knocks and waited nothing as i reached for the bell the door swung open harpreed answered hello dressed in a housecoat her eyes were tired and her hair was tasseled wait what time was it i checked my wristwatch 6.58 on a Saturday morning. Yikes. Hey, Opryde. Sorry to bother you so early. She looked at me a little confused. Almost like she didn't know who I was.

Fair enough. We'd only miss once before, but... It's Eve. Just moved in up the street. We're going to do a game night together. She smiled. Oh, right, Eve. But it almost felt like she still didn't recognize me and was just being polite. That or my social anxiety was yet again taking the rain. Can I use your phone? Mine's dead. Sure. She reached into her pocket and handed me her cell phone. Thanks. Punched in Charlie's number. Three tones rang out, but no answer. I went to dial again when Charlie called back. Thank God.

Hello? She said. I excelled relief. Just hearing her voice felt like a big warm hug. Charlie, where are you? Who's this? Raised an eyebrow. Then remembered I wasn't using my phone. It's Eve My phone's dead I'm using the neighbors Oh hey Eve It's pretty loud in here

You'll have to speak up In the background Barcode scanners Beeping Muffled voices Cars Sound like she was lined up In a grocery store

A thousand questions passed through my head But I settled on When are you coming back Long drawn out silence Right now can we do this later Charlie I just Why did you leave without Beep

Oof She on got up on me Hmm. That utter the call dropped. Yeah, the call must have dropped. Storm messed with the signal. That's all. No way Charlie hung up on you.

Stop catastrophizing everything. Our pre-clanced over his shoulder to back to me. Restless. Smiling apologetically, I redialed Charlie, but this time it went straight to voicemail. Hey, Charlie, I think our signal dropped. I fed your lock on the driveway and this feeling is just really weirding me out. Come back as soon as you can. Okay?

Ending the call, I handed back the phone. Ropreet studied me with a subtle concern in her eyes. Is everything okay? Yeah, I'm good. Thanks. Part of me wanted to tell her what was going on, wait here until Charlie got back, until this creepy family was gone. But Ropreet wasn't exactly rolling out the welcome mat.

I couldn't blame her. Because people with healthy boundaries don't just let random strangers into their house. Go figure. Maybe, I feel like there's a time thing happening, you know, between like Abigail being in the house disappearing and now him talking to her in the basement and then the like I can't do this right now felt weirdly like well that's what that's my favorite part so far is that we've gotten a couple things with their dynamic which is Eve seems to be somebody who emotionally maybe is I hate to use the word immature but

someone who like I don't know like goes to the worst place always you know, like almost feels like she needs, she needs her handheld with a lot of stuff. So this whole thing of like even her last night being woken up, she's like, dude, what? There's been a history of her already freaking out about that. And then now in this case, Charlie being gone the day before also sets a presence, dude. I see what you're saying. So the, I can't do this right now. When more so you're like Charlie like quit freaking out.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. And I almost gave me a wrap of like, like time had passed and Charlie had been gone or so or like. Like it's almost like, or not Charlie, Eve had been gone and Eve's almost like skipping to the future or something, you know. But yeah, I could see that. It's just like, just shut up for a second. Yeah. The, uh, the story's doing a good thing, though, too, with the locket dropping and stuff. I feel like it's like you're wanting, you're wanting to figure out where this, not necessarily threat, but like these negative things, I keep assuming the worst.

So then it was kind of interesting that Charlie did answer. Because when she called, I was going to be like, there's not going to be an answer. That's what I thought, yeah. But I like that little misdirect of her answering and being like, dude, fuck it. Because it puts me in the same mindset that maybe I'm on the same kind of like mindset as Eve as well. So I feel a lot of sympathy for her character too. But if you're jumping to conclusion so quick, of course, character's going to be like, dude, what the fuck? Like it's building paranoia very well.

Once again, though, a child be gone overnight and still, that's insane to where that's why I'm also thinking that like, not necessarily. is this in her head, but like, is this like an orchestrated fucking shutter island kind of thing? Yeah, it seems like she's being gaslit. In a way. Yeah. Like with the painting going back up? She doesn't seem like she is in the know and everyone else is kind of just like, oh, yeah, I don't know. It feels a little too, like, I feel like any other rational person would be like the fire department.

And I bet you there, maybe that comes soon, but still, like, how it hasn't happened yet is absurd. Yeah. Your comment about time passing, Isaiah and kind of the, your comment on her about the, suspension of like belief or the suspension of memory kind of makes me think of I'm thinking of ending things. Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, Charlie Kaufman movie. Yeah. Feels like a sequential, but it's also like this was a big future.

Yeah. I agree. I don't know if it's going that way. For people that didn't hear it, Harry said that it's making him think of, I'm thinking of anythings, which is like a Charlie Kaufman movie. I think it was a book too, though. But it's like, but yeah, very dreamlike and it's like a passage of time. it's all from like an entire narrative taking place in like a janitor's mind of like how his

life could have gone or something but the the story presents itself as like the through the lens of a woman gonna break also a wintry storm yeah yeah and the exactly yeah but what a great set piece in that movie too like the milkshake stand or whatever i'll that's i and read is the author he's really good at like building dread i really if we get to read books like One of the books I really want to read is this book, his book called Foe. It's really cool, but published. But yeah. So March back home.

I kept playing the phone call through my head. Something seemed off with Charlie. She sounded distant. Standoffish even. Maybe it was something I said last night. Maybe it was something I did last week. Stop. Stop spiraling.

Stop mind reading. Focus. If something was bothering, Charlie, she would have told you. She's probably just hungover, preoccupied. i took a deep breath and exhaled what would charlie do charlie would go home tell these creeps to get out of her house i sympathize this eve so much that insecurity of like i feel like i do that all the time roll through your head and you're just like oh my god like i'm you just start stacking every like a plate of like catastrophic things of like did i fuck up are they mad at me what did i do

wrong or like just being like people fucking this is terrible whatever and then you have just a a stack of plates that you're carrying or whatever and they have to be like, oh my God, just like fucking give yourself a break. Which is impossible. She can say stop all she wants, but it's like, that within itself is the biggest front and biggest like lie that she's

taught herself. Stop, it's fine. That's the most like, yeah, that's the most damaging thing is her coming up. Be like, no, no, it's fine. Because she like, I think is consciously, she's, it's that fucking horrible thing when you are consciously able to understand that you're like spiraling. Yeah. Is it a fucking, I think a, a

like it's it's a shitty place to be in yeah you know i think so too because i think cala feels a similar way but on the other end of the spectrum i can't if i'm being honest i don't know aside from really weird social interactions when was the last time i've thought about in a negative way my relationship with someone you know i guess less relationship and more so i mean like with me or something it's more like I don't know, like a social interaction or like, uh, I don't know, like just a little. That's what I'm that I don't mean in a relationship. Oh, yeah, yeah. Like, uh, conversational, social stuff. Like, oh, sure. I almost never like second guess myself. Yeah, I feel like,

maybe I should more, but I don't know. I mean, I, I think that's a blessing. I just think what's interesting coming from that is I think like, because of that a lot of the times too, sometimes I, like, will play like almost a catch up game where you were like trying to like, if he's, like, not that if you think someone's mad at you, but like, maybe you're overly friendly or, like, you're just trying to, like, test or feel out that water because you are really unsure of how this person's feeling or, like, how you're standing in this social interaction. So, like, the only thing, the only reason I thought that was interesting is that I wonder, when she's like, Charlie would say, get the fuck out of the house. And I think that she's having this,

a negative, like, negative reaction being like, I bet you Charlie's mad that, like, these people are here at the house and I'm, like, causing a big stink and I'm whatever. So now she's going to have this emotional reaction of being like get the fuck out of the house and be like yeah a little more standoffish and dickheadish to these people and does that just like put up shit creek a bit yeah yeah with renewed focus i slogged back through the snow halfway across the road i noticed a figure obscured by the snow a person standing at the end of the street on the edge of the forest back turned unmoving dressed in a white gown or at least that's what it looked like from this distance.

Gown in the middle of a winter storm? Maybe it was the hiding kid. Jenny? I called out, but the shrieking wind swallowed my voice. I tried again, louder. No response. Then, the figure withdrew into the woods, disappearing from sight.

A little bitch is going to jump off a bridge. I can tell you that right now. I glanced down the street towards my house. Go back inside or go after the kid. It's freezing out here. Even with my whole winter get up on, and a gown she might catch hypothermia or worse took a step forward and an image flashed through my head an image from last night the hunched figure on the stairs slowly rising to stand the memory was so sudden

so vivid i could almost see it projected onto the snow in front of me my eyes drifted back towards the house then back to the dark forest last night was just a trick of the line told myself you've got this leave, go find the kid. Besides, I'll get this family out of your house. Reluctantly, I headed towards the tree line. The old forest swayed and groaned as I tracked the faint trail of footsteps.

Up ahead, the kid slipped behind a gnarled tree. Was her hair black? All the kids were blonde, but maybe it was the light again. Picking up the pace, I trailed the winding footprints as he led deeper into the woods over a bank to a

small crevice and banished. The trail just ended. Hard stop. As if the person I was following just ceased to exist. I paused, looked around the trees, branches, snow, and more trees. I called out again, but only the dim echo of my voice responded. Great.

My skin tied as the wind needled through me. Somewhere close, a heavy crack, followed by a thundering boom. Is that a tree falling over? This was getting dangerous. Left with little choice. Turned back for the house. Sorry, kid.

In the foyer, I shook off snow. The uncanny strangeness of everything still clouding my thoughts. Thomas stepped around the corner. Any luck? Blinked at him. Sure of what he meant. Getting a hold of Charlie. Oh, I had to leave a message.

He nodded. I was just about to mention the kid in the woods when behind him his daughter Ginny stepped into the room I stared at her lost for words Thomas claims back Oh she finally surrendered Ginny wore white t-shirt and blue corduroy overalls not a gown

It's raised an obvious question Who was the person outside I almost brought it up but again Something told me Keep it to yourself I'm distrust in this family And even my own judgment Was growing by the second

anyway we're heading out as soon as the storm clears up I think it's safer now I know but without winter tires my life was a little paranoid don't care I do not care

yeah well next line surprising myself I pushed more I'll get the tire chains from the attic you smiled grimly not sure they'll fit our truck they're universal Thomas paused ever so slightly And then

Perfect, that'll work He excelled with seemingly genuine relief We'll start packing up our stuff right away Check out time's 11 right He smiled at me expecting a laugh I gave him a blank stare His dumb smile evaporated Page

He called out and disappeared in the living room But Jenny lingered behind Looking up at me There's a deep sadness in her eyes almost like she didn't want to leave. Poor kid. It's my brief time around her appearance. I didn't blame her.

I would have hit in the basement too. I smiled sympathetically, but she just looked down at the floor and... Paige's voice snapped from the living room. Help us tidy up now! Gin looked up at me, turned away, slipped out of view. Tire chains, you've tired chains. I turned to head upstairs, but there was a jagged, fist-sized hole. in the drywall.

Wait, was that there before I left? Did the movers do it last week? I didn't notice until now. No, that doesn't make sense. I would have seen that. Better yet, Charlie would have 100% caught a hole in the wall and called them out. Come back to that later.

I was about to step away when I noticed an ant crawl out from the hole. Bloated as hell. A fat fucker. With surprising speed, zigzagged down the wall, slipped, dropped right to the floor. Without missing a beat, it scurried across the hardwood and slipped into a crack beneath the front door.

Okay. Almost felt like it was running from something. What was that about? Focus Eve. Universal tire chains. Standing at the top of a pull-down ceiling ladder, I poked my head into the attic. Hobbled wooden floors, no windows, everything covered in dust.

This will be fun. Flashlight in hand, I hoisted myself. up. I peaked my head in here once before, but never got the whole tour. Slanted boards, low ceilings, narrow hallways, weird attic. I eased my way in. It was quite up here too, save for the muffled sounds of the family downstairs. According to Charlie, the tire chains were in the last room on the left. Stepping deeper into the attic, I entered a long shoulder-width passage. Clostrophobic. Up here, the house's time-warm innards were exposed. Reddish-pink insolet. rusting pipes, frayed wires,

looked like a botched surgery. Curving through the corridor, I came upon a gap in the wall, a three foot by three foot squared stomach height. An entrance? I peered inside. It was the dumb waiter shoot. Why would it go up to the attic?

A beam light down. A long, narrow shaft led all the way to the basement. The elevator cart was at the bottom. Three-story. That's a long drop Suddenly the hair on the back of my neck stood up Memories of the basement twisted through my head And

Was coming up here such a good idea Maybe I should have stayed with the neighbors Maybe I should have Doesn't matter now Eve Tire chains You know the uh The I'm thinking of ending things Parallel seems right too

Because she's so like It's like a lot of inner inner dialogue too of like talking to yourself of like this whole thing of just like is this right is this like kind of like always questioning yourself and kind of moving through there's like so much self introspection like happening in real time yeah of like second guessing and questioning everything it's really putting a lot of like I really like the I like the way that the story keeps tapping that because it makes me so suspicious of everything yeah and but very rarely am I ever like what is she on about like it's always directed.

at something else. And I think that's always a sign of a strong stories whenever you're just like in the pilot seat with the main character. Because you're just like you're kind of like looking at it. I'm looking at it through her lens versus just like continuously questioning the main character or anything like that. I feel like I'm yeah, just sympathetic to,

I don't know, that kind of like uncertainty that she feels that kind of giving more and more into that insecurity and shit and just kind of like the ever growing kind of tension that's building between her and this family. Yeah, I can see that. It's like The self-doubt that sometimes we'll get grading in a lesser story is very applicable here as stuff happens. Finally, I reached the end of the hallway, round to the corner, and a door. Wooden covered it in peeling olive green paint. Adorned with three locks.

Unlatched. An attic with dead bolts on its doors. Any other time this would have sent me running. Pulled it open and. blinding light. From the far wall, glaring sunlight shone through a porthole window. I flicked off the flashlight, stepped forward, looked around. This room was barely bigger than your average walk-in closet, random junk crowded up against the walls, a motley crew of thrift store rejects, bald tires, old books, more empty picture frames,

a fish tank and turtle pellet food. Behind that, a dusty watercolor painting of a bright green smiling turtle. I guess the previous owners really like turtles. I mean turtles are pretty cool, but why didn't Charlie mention any of this stuff? Behind the turtle tank was a file box written on its side in black Sharpie. Charlie's stuff, donate.

Leaning forward, I hoisted the box up onto the turtle tank. Inside were a few camera lenses, a bunch of film rolls and an old 35 millimeter pin tags. Charlie's camera. Photography used to be a patch of hers. I still remember the day she had her own gallery showing. It was a rain-soaked day in downtown Seattle, but I'd never seen her happier. She even put up the blurry photo of me, the one from the locket. I was flattered, despite the fact you could barely see my face in it. Charlie always wanted

to start a photography side business, but three years back, after her father passed, Charlie put away the camera and never took it out again. Her dad was the one that got her into photography to begin with. asked her about it once but she just shrugged said she didn't have time for it anymore I was so unlike Charlie before that she never walked away from anything that said

I was in no position to judge the type of person who gives up on projects I don't even start an example I dropped out of art school three months before the first semester setting the lid back onto the box I turned the survey the room and in the far corner

a pile of tire chains finally crossed over bent down and outside the house a door slammed shut I tilted my head silence

then muffled heavy footfalls crunched against gravel and snow Charlie I stepped over to the porthole window down on the driveway Thomas marched towards the street

got about 10 yards from the house then lurched to a stop and let out A primal scream of rage. What? What the hell? He went quiet and glanced around, looking embarrassed. Then he shook out his hands.

Did he and Paige just have a fight? Maybe, but what about? Who? I'm sure it's some supernatural means or something, but who in a fight is like, one minute, please. You know? I don't think it's totally, I don't think it's totally crazy. I think also

we see him living a facade in front of page and then whenever she's gone he's a completely different person so I imagine that she was probably just like I don't know being like maybe being overbearing or something

or you could tell that she was snapping with the kids maybe she snapped at him to where he's just like alright sweet just one second aggressive with the truck goes outside he's just like this guy's like textbook family annihilator

what is that guys that killed their whole family Oh Yeah I think Like just a I don't know Just a fucking

I'm just I'm just saying This is this kind of guy Over the course of 20 years And then one day she's like I don't like it when you take out The trash like that He's like

Okay I'd hear one second Just the last straw Is that too harsh for read I think that's a fair read It's only hard because it's not even fully like he is saddled with a tough

bag like it's not even fully his family but as soon as he's away from the family's like oh you don't be wrong I think if I was going to kill any of my family and there weren't even mine it'd be a lot easier of a cell well I mean like him between like that he doesn't sleep with his wife and the kids aren't even his and the moment he's away

from him he's like I'm sorry about my wife is that a drink thank God like you know he's there's already signs of the misery yeah they're demons reaching into his coat pocket pulled out a pack of cigarettes and glanced back towards the house all clear lit up took a long drag and relaxed a bit secret nicotine addiction pressed anger issues two more points against this picture perfect family

maybe he punched that hole in the wall too he continued down the driveway onto the street and disappeared beyond the tree line along the forest surrounding my house from this angle the trees were eerily familiar old almost menacing this the tree line from the painting behind me a labored metallic rasping sound i turned listened around the corner dissonant grating like overgrown fingernail scraping against rusting metal tedious guttural growing growing louder and louder with each passing second Disturbed, I crept over to investigate. But before I could even get there, the sound rattled to a sudden stop. A halting noise that made me realize what it was.

The dumbwaiter. Flashlight in hand, I peeked around the corner. Nothing. Just a long empty hallway. Maybe it's the kid again. Maybe she's coming up here to hide. I glanced at the tire chains. Come back for those later.

I eased forward one step at a time. From this angle, I couldn't see into the dumbwaiter shoot yet. But part of me worried something terrible was waiting inside, something waiting to pull me down into the basement, drag me into who knows where, and stop. Don't spiral. Take a deep breath. Excel. It's just the kid Eve. Everything that's happened so far has a reasonable explanation.

Really? What about the dad's whispering freak out in the basement? yes even that the painting above the fireplace yes that too the figure on the stairs yeah i think mildly emboldened i stepped forward to look and the elevator cart was empty joy somebody must have pulled it up here from below of course you can pull you a dumb waiter's shoe without being inside it that's actually how they're meant to be used excelling relief, I turned away and footprints. So pretty much what that's saying is that like somebody was up there and grabbed the thing that was in the

dumbwaiter, right? Fun. Yeah. Good. Great. Awesome. Footprints in the dust. Long, narrow, start.

Well, I think the implication is because you cannot, depending on the dumb waiter, you can also move them from the inside if like the rope is in there next to it. So someone pulled themselves up to the attic. And the stopping was him getting out and now hiding. Oh, so you're saying that someone was inside and all the way up. I see. Starting at the dumb waiter entrance and leading off down the hallway, away from me down through the attic towards the only way out.

Not good. Thank you, Eve, for that commentary. They sure as hell didn't look like kid footprints. Maybe I wasn't thinking clearly, but they almost didn't look human. Wamp, wong. Okay, no more attic. I took a deep breath, pointed my flashlight, and headed for the ladder at the end of the hallway. I quick step into an open area and swivel-checked the corners like a wannabe marine.

All clear, we're good, just get to the exit. The flashlight dimmed into darkness. Seriously? I smacked it, flickering light. Shit. I've watched enough horror movies to know. Nothing good follows a randomly dying flashlight. I smacked it again, harder.

I flicked the on and off switch. Nothing. Smacked it again, nothing. Again, nothing. And if it is stupid rage, I hurled it into the dark. Clattered off a wall and fell to the floor with a hollow thud. Silence. A growing sense of panic swelled with me.

Whoever brought the chute up here was still in the attic. And I was seriously starting to doubt it was one of the kids. Was it the figure on the stairs? What if it was... My tailspin was saved by a literal ray of hope. About 40 feet away, the still open attic door. Just follow the line. Moving one foot at a time, using the distant glow to guide me, I focused on my breath.

Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. Be careful, don't trip on the notched floor. Behind me, something moved. A skittering, almost fragile sound. Now, completely terrified. I hauled ass towards the light and my foot snagged on a floorboard I staggered forward nearly biting it

close call scrambling I sprinted towards the exit almost there almost free and the stairs slammed shut with an authoritative wamp darkness I yelled for whoever was down there to open it no response the stairs slam shut doesn't mean the door slam shut you think yeah the door to the stairway

all right no response collapsing onto the hat I frantically searched for the handle. Sliding my hands over the splinter-infested floor, hunting for something, anything. Cold sweat trailed down my forehead. My heart thumped, breath gasped. I stopped myself again.

Calm down. Breathe in. Breathe out. In, out. Ground yourself. Focus on your surroundings. Your senses. Sight.

Pitch dark. Smell. Musty air. Rotting wood. Touch, cold wet hair, coarse hardwood, sound your own breathing when gusting outside, creaks, groans of the old house, and a rolling sound behind me, like a metallic cylinder against hardwood. I gaze back over my shoulder, only darkness, but then light flickered to life.

A flashlight, about 30 feet away, rolling in a lazy arc, beaming through stagnant clouds of dust. I watched, hypnotized. The rolling flashlight slowly scanned over the walls, the reddish-pink insulation, and then it settled to a stop, shining into the narrow hallway at an angle. It almost felt as if this light was trying to show me something, but nothing was left.

there. Just a dark, empty hallway. I squinted and then I saw it. A figure standing in the darkness just outside the light's edge. A person cast in shadow. I stopped breathing. Slowly the figure became more defined. It was a woman wearing an off-wide hospital gown. Tall, Her head was shaved down to thin black roots, bluish veins pulsated beneath pale skin. Her face was concealed behind peekaboo hands, like a child playing a game. Motionless, the breathless moment seemed to stretch on for eternity, and then she took a sudden, shuffling step forward, frozen place. Now, the front of her bare feet stood in the light. Overgrown, dirt-stained toenails, and then another quick step forward.

The flashlight snapped off. Darkness returned. Slow, monotonous footsteps followed, like a lumbering metronome, speeding up bit by bit. Bottomless dread pushed up from my stomach, into my throat, but only a gasping weas escaped. I couldn't even scream. So I spun around and pounded on the floor, hitting harder and harder, all the while the footfalls getting closer and closer, one short step at a time. Finally, I managed to scream.

Scream louder than I'd ever screamed before. I screamed for help, but no one responded. Only the sound of footsteps getting closer, closer. They were nearly upon me, and then the stairway swung open. I tumbled downward and slammed into the hardwood floor head first. Darkness. Is this leaning itself, do you think, into a ghost story now? Or do you think these are actual physical people there?

They're actually there. Um, that's what I'm trying to I have an assumption with the whole thing about Abigail seeing the house change that the house is kind of like a, uh, do you think people have gotten stuck in there and they've just like, the house changes, whatever, and then you're trapped? I think it's a time thing. I think the house is a, uh, what's the word I'm looking for?

Like a focus point in time where, uh, it's kind of like all the moments of different people being there kind of collapsing and on itself or at least the same kind of thing. is that like a different take on like a I mean like what do they say about ghosts or spirits or something don't they say that they're in an infinite time loop where they think that they're like living in the same spot I mean that's one idea that spirits are like uh that ghosts are not our it's not a dead person who's like still like wandering the earth or whatever it's us seeing through the bridge of time so like people in a locate like you hear stories about like a Gettysburg

people will step into the basement and then see like a whole room of people like treating the sick and all that, then they blink and they're gone. It's like for a minute for whatever reason. I see. Like the barrier of time is snapped so we could see them and they could see us kind of thing. So I think this house may be an example of that. That's why the walls change colors because different tenants have painted them different colors. The child like the child like game, the person played made me think it was like an infantile person that has grown.

I think because Abigail could see it, she became trapped in it. somehow. She got too close to it and kind of fell in. Which is going to, which is, you're alluring to the fact that Eve might be trapped in it could be trapped in as well. She can see it. Eve. And experience that. That's where I was also that with the call earlier and stuff. That creates a perfect setup to with somebody who's like paranoid and people don't believe her. All of a sudden now she's like, by the way. Different points of time are happening at once. Like I thought I took down that painting. Why's that painting still hanging up? You know, stuff like that. Yeah. Um, and then this could be Abigail. and Abigail still has the mind of a child, right? She's still a little girl, but it's her body even at different points in time, right?

But she's still present. It's like the house is a like a fulcrum that a lot of this stuff's converging at. And it can kind of see off all sides of it in a sense. That also explained the cover of the book. It's like the segmented house, you know? Oh, sure. We used to live here, but I didn't know. I really do love this story.

I think it's been a ton of fun. I'm super hooked. It's been really fun so far. With a sharp gas, I snapped awake. Where was I? Slumped on the living room couch with a nasty headache. Thank God. I've expected to be tied up in an underground torture chamber.

Next to the fireplace, Page sat in a chair, knitting. Her kids played with Lincoln logs on the floor. It's still daytime, but slowly getting darker. You okay? That's Thomas, stepping into view. I don't know what to say. We're still processing everything. there's somebody in the attic he nodded considerably kids looked up at me on edge glanced towards them why don't you go upstairs collecting their toys they followed out holding a smile he waited for them to leave and sat down across from me tell me what happened yes thoughtfully there there was a person they were i trailed off trying to make sense of it i think i saw them in the basement too last night on the stairs but you wait this for a moment before we moved in

How long was the house sitting empty? Huh? When did the previous owners move out? Oh, about a half a year ago, I think. You smiled grimly. Sitting empty that long? Could be a squatter. Habits more often than you think.

Especially out here. I don't know. Well, did she seem dangerous? The bizarre image of the one. Wait, did she even say it was a woman? No. Can get nothing by me. Too fast.

I catch it. skin lamp still skin lamp as much as you're catching you're still with whining up hard cut to me your catch hand axe

to the face can't get nothing by me the bizarre image of the woman hiding behind peekaboo hands flashed through my head it was almost as if she were taunting me we

I should call the police shook his head no reason to escalate things until we know what we're really dealing with you gotta call him now I was barely even listening. My thoughts were still trapped in the attic, circling around something that I couldn't quite place yet.

Cleared his throat. I'll go up and take a look, all right? I don't think it's safe. I'll be fine. Push it up to stand. He strode towards the foyer. Page chimed in. Don't forget the tire chains.

She said, not even looking up from her knitting. Grunting noncommittally, Thomas disappeared around the corner. She, you? Five minutes had passed, and Thomas was still upstairs investigating the attic. What was taking him so long? Who was that up there? Could be a sister, Abby? Rhythmic creaking interrupted my train of thought. I looked up. Paige was rocking back and forth in a chair, knitting. An unfamiliar red rocking chair.

Catching my gaze, she stopped moving. A few awkward seconds of silence went by. Nice chair. Said pointedly. She offered a meek smile. Thomas grabbed it from the truck. It's good for my spine. When I was younger, I hurt my back in an accident. He used to ride horses. Almost qualified for regionals.

Read that line. Who gives a fuck. That wasn't said by her, but... Leaning back across my arms, the fire crackled and hissed, slowly dying into fading embers. That series of events is 100% the kind of thing

that's totally reasonable for Thomas to scream outside and have a cigarette. Like, Thomas clearly is like uncomfortable. I mean, he probably has something malicious going on, but on the surface, he's uncomfortable, we've overstayed our welcome, we need to go. And then your wife's like, go grab the fucking century rocking chair.

Go get the rocking chair from the moving van. It's like, we're about to leave. I don't care, go get it. I totally get the... She went back to knitting, unfazed by my lack of response. Considering the peekaboo lady up in the attic, Part of me was actually glad for the family's presence, but now I had less than zero faith in them.

Worse still, I didn't even fully know why. Sorry about last night, said Paige, almost blurted it out. Raised an eyebrow, I looked towards her. She continued, What I said at the dinner table wasn't appropriate. I stared at her surprise, but not invested. I just, I'm not used to how fast the world's changing these days. She tapered off.

I was scanning the floor. Same here. Dead quiet. And then Thomas stepped into the room. Okay, so I was thinking about if it is a time fulcrum thing, then them looking like they're from the 1950s and pages comment like I'm surprised

with how fast the world's changing. They may straight up be from the 50s, you know, like straight brought over. Explains to no cell phones too and stuff like that. Kids playing with Lincoln logs, like old toys. Not a Batman or. something. Also, the she, the word she in all caps.

I don't think she said that and she hasn't realized that. Yeah, I think that was the narrative kind of, you know? I think that was her saying. She? Maybe not. Yeah, I don't know. Because she did it. She's not acting like she's put that together yet.

I set up awaiting his report, but he just looked at me and shrugged. Didn't see anything, said almost apologetically. Found this, though. He handed me my flashlight. No footprints? Hmm, footprints. Nope. Impossible.

A roast to stand, but he pressed his hand against my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. Eve? His eyes filled with the type of concern that makes one feel pathetic. Is everything okay? I didn't respond. I didn't know how. He continued. I know you barely know us, but you can be open here.

Maybe we can help. What was this guy up to? I shrugged his hand away and stepped towards the kitchen, pulling a cup from a cabinet, filled it at the sink, gulped it down, and slammed it onto the counter like a shot glass. You should leave. Thomas' face twitched like something to not compute. And then he snapped back to his pseudo-charming self. Why don't we wait until Charlie gets back?

Ready to rip, I open my mouth to respond, but then I noticed a cup on the counter, the one I just sat down. It was an unfamiliar red plastic kids cup. They're bringing their shit into the house. I think that's Thomas's thing from inside the chair and now it's going to be it could be their stuff from inside the house but it could also be the house shifting again times different stuff different owners have had there yeah like the whole thing about like oh he went and got it from the truck for the rocking chair I don't know I think that may have been like another shift yeah you know like several events have happened in the house different stories and then like the symptoms almost like the skin of the house rotates through and through like that hole in the wall with that the ant going through it may have been from someone punching a hole in the 80s. Somewhere in time.

And it just appears in the dis- Yeah. It was an unfamiliar red plastic kids cup on its side, pale blue moon with gentle shut eyes, smiling a toothy smile. Whose cup was this? More importantly, what was it doing in my cupboard? Something wrong? That's Thomas. How long was I out?

He studied me, unsure. I locked onto his eyes. After I hit my head. Oh, 10, 15 minutes. You broke eye contact. Tops. Clearing his throat. He's right his pitch shit again.

We'll stay with you until Charlie gets home. Then we can use her phone to call the police. And after that, we'll finally get out of your hair. Sound good? Uh-huh. I would go across the street to call the cops. Just be like, hey, remember earlier I said everything's cool? Nope.

You know, I'm uttered only half listening. Now I was staring at the creepy moon cup searching for something. something just out of reach in my mind, something that she. Minutes earlier when he asked me about the addict person, Thomas said, did she seem dangerous, but I never mention the blaring ring of a cell phone cut into my concentration. Repetitive, monotone, beeping. I looked around, bewildered. Sound was coming from Paige, fumbling in her pocket.

She yanked, oh my gosh. God damn bitch. She yanked out of flip. phone and switched it off. What'd you say? Said lying fucks. Yeah. Defending silence filled every corner of the room.

No, I guarantee you this is a Pages phone. No, that's what I'm saying? Or not Pages phone. Charlie's phone. Charlie's phone, yeah. Definite silence filled every corner of the room. I looked at Thomas, but he looked away, embarrassed so much for not having phones.

Let me use that. Oh, it's not. The service out here is, and I just. Midway through her sentence. marched over and snatched the phone away. Page shot to her feet, trying to grab it back, but Thomas spoke up. It's okay, Paige. Let her use it.

She paused, staring at him for an uncertain moment, sat back down. Smart move, Paige. It's about to break your jaw. It's by the fact I didn't have the slightest idea of how to do that. Dialing Charlie's number, stepped back into the kitchen. Three tones rang out, and then,

faintly, through a vent in the floor, a muffled scint cover of Beethoven's fifth played out from the basement. Charlie's ready tone. Into part two. Holy shit. Because also it's the thing too that they've been doing well. Once again, like I said earlier,

is setting up this idea of like maybe I'm being paranoid. She answers the phone. Okay, so she's still alive. Yeah, well, whatever. And then the whole time you're like, I kept thinking, where the, why the fuck is she not back yet? And then all of a sudden, oh, nope.

She probably did come back at some point. And what happened to her? I don't know. again, it could be the time thing. It could be like different people. Like maybe Charlie just blinked to a different point in the house and something like that, you know. The only thing that makes me unsure about that is just why is the family then so consistent?

I think the dad may be aware of it. And he just knows how to navigate around without getting zapped? Getting caught into like movies. Oh, yeah, yeah. Or something like that. Like he grew up with it and he witnessed it happened to his sister. So maybe he's left and become obsessed with it over the years. Now he's come back to get in need to find out of him.

trust Thomas. No, of course not. Absolutely not. And I was wrong about it. I thought, but yeah, the ringtone, she would recognize the ringtone because it was mentioned earlier. But like, I was thinking, oh, maybe Paige has Charlie's phone, but no, the phone's under the floor. No, they're just trying to weasel their way in. I still think that I'm still, I know you have your time theory. I'm still in this like weird, I'm still in this weird mindset that like they're trying to like move themselves back in or there's like something. Like, it, trying to like, like infect themselves into the house. That could also be true.

What makes me think the time theory is the stuff Abigail said when she was a kid about the walls keep changing colors and the furniture keeps moving. I think that, yeah, there's definitely something weird happening. I just, I still think Thomas, though, is like like the fucking, you know, I want to die here kind of thing almost or something. Like refusing to leave, you know, all right, fine, we got out of your hair. But things keep trickling down. Yeah. Yeah. Part three.

There's Morse code. Oh, let's do them. Well, the first one was where, right? Yeah, where. Yes. This one is... It's only two letters. Two dots and then three dots.

I think three dots is T. Where is? Maybe Charlie. Yes. Where is? Or where's Abby, maybe? Where's Abby? Where's Abby?

This one is just is. Where's Eve? Part three. Who. Thomas and Page stared at me, both playing dumb. Pretending they couldn't hear Charlie's ringtone, Oscar worthy shit. But I didn't.

have to appreciate the performance. If Charlie was somehow in the basement, then she might be hurt, or worse. I need to get down there. Call the police and find her now. Tucking away Paige's phone, I started out of the kitchen. Eve, where are you going? Ignoring him, I hauled across the room, snagged the flashlight from the couch, and... Eve, you could talk to us. He grabbed me by the arm. Don't fucking touch me! I wrench free, stepped back, silence. They just stared at me, wide-eyed. scared even good it should be eve what's wrong stammered still giving a top-notch performance bravo flashlight clenched to my hands like a weapon i eased back towards the basement door slipping inside i slammed it shut darkness with both hands grasp around the knob i braced for thomas to follow but he didn't i listened for a moment no footsteps only muffled voices pressed my ear to the door what if she finds said page but i couldn't make out the rest. It doesn't matter now. Thomas muttered a barely audible response. What were they talking about? Who knows? Probably some death cold stuff. Just find Charlie. Convinced Thomas wouldn't follow,

I crept back, then spun around and hurried downward. At the base of the stairs, I pulled out Pages flip phone and punched in 911. Two ringtones. A young woman answered. I won't operator. What is your emergency? Home invasion. If you can, get outside or barricade yourself in a room okay sure after i find charlie name eve eve paulmer eve are you hurt no is the intruder still in your house yes there's more than one actually can you describe them a man a woman and trailed off can you just send help and three kids three kids yes they're a family and they've threatened you yes well not the kids but the parents did technically alive. Sue me.

Are they armed? Possibly. I think they hurt my girlfriend or they're holding her hostage. There's another woman in the attic too. She might be the guy's sister. I don't know. Just send help now.

Address? 3719 heritage lane. Ma'am, a car has already been dispatched to your location. Great. Thank you. No. What I mean is someone from the address has already called into disturbance.

A disturbance? Guess at 5150. Was that you? Huh. No Let me guess Thomas called it in Worthless piece of shit

Ma'am Did I say that last part out loud Eve I'd like you to stay on the line Until police arrive You should know The storm is delayed response time And

That's when I noticed the blood A trail of tiny red dots Spattered on the ground I lowered the phone to inspect And Upstairs a sudden crash Followed by heavy scraping Across the floor

A flood of footsteps like dozens of people marching around. Puffs of dust wheeves from straining floorboards above me. What the hell was going on up there? Focus, Eve. I think, again, these are points in time culminating. But I really admire Eve right now from like as soon as like her girlfriend's in trouble being like,

all right, I'm doing everything at once. Don't touch me, get out of my house. I'm calling the police. I'm going to the basement. I don't know if it's just me, but I feel like I keep having this hearkening that Eve is like Abby or whatever. Like I just had this thing of like Paige being like

well what if she finds this? Ah, well, it's not even my like there's something of like Eve is not I don't know, I don't know. I just keep on this feeling like it's leading us towards answer. Something weird is going on for sure. Of course, but it's just being my mind keeps... Yeah.

Yeah, my mind just keeps going to the spot where it's like, oh well like fucking Thomas is like yeah, he seems weird and he's overbearing but it also almost reads like visiting a fucking nut in the nut house and then being like, you know am I going home today? Well, you're home or like that kind of vibe, you know.

I'm so locked in right now. I flipped the phone shut. Authorities were on route. It's all that mattered. Even if Thomas called them in first, what would he say when they get here? It's actually my house because I put a rocking chair in the living room.

I could look with that one, buddy. Following the trail of blood, I entered a long, narrow hallway. Doors on either side. symmetrical, numbered. It almost looked like a prison. What the hell? Flashlight in hand, I pushed forward.

The scattered line of blood led straight ahead, past several doorways, and curved into an open room, a musty brick wall nook. So she's never seen this hallway before, right? Well, no, because it seems like even what we were experienced in the attic is it seems like, we haven't really even heard exactly what she does

in the renovation process, because it seems like so far Charlie does all of the, the work basically of like, well, she's the one. It seems like they're in business together, flipping houses, but it's like, oh, well, Charlie never told me that this happened. Yeah. Whatever. If anything, maybe she does like more of the, like face, like the face.

The selling and the, you know, decorating stuff like, oh, like, yeah, like makes it look presentable to re-so. But it seems like Charlie's the one who maybe does all of the, like, actual construction. She didn't even been in the basement before. Yeah, exactly. And also it seems like it's been relatively, like they're very fresh to this building. Yeah. Continuing into the back corner, the blood ran over a pile of abandoned clutter.

A beam light through the mess. Behind it, a blocked doorway. I started grabbing debris and tossing it aside. Up above, the scraping and footsteps grew louder. A rickety, percussive drone. Finally, I cleared away the old trash and opened the door. A long, an even staircase receded downward into a dark and void. A basement within a basement.

Come on. Suddenly, the sounds from upstairs cut short. Silence. Behind me, two quick shuffling scrapes. I spun around, aimed light into the doorway. Empty. Uneasy. I turned back and redialed Charlie's phone.

Two tones rang out. In the darkness beyond the bottom of the stairs, Ludwig's classic riff chimed alive. Okay, creepy sub-basement, here I come. At the bottom of the steps, the trail of blood ended. Hard stop. Did it start or finish here? I stepped forward into a vast, shadowy room. Down here, Charlie's ringtone peened off the walls, echoing from every direction.

Worry, I struggled to get my bearings. The circular glow from my flashlight revealed the room bit by bit. It almost looked like an abandoned mine. Cave-like, makeshift, bizarre. Strained wooden beams struggled to keep the earth at bay. The room itself was filled with paintings, stacks and stacks of paintings, but none of them were hanging. They were just strewn on the ground, leaning against the dirt walls piled up in the corners. Charlie's ringtone stopped, and for a moment its echo lingered in the stagnant air.

Silence. I redialed, but this time, calling from down here, it didn't ring. I checked the screen. No service. Charlie? I called out. Nothing. Determined, I wandered deeper.

Maybe there was something here, something that would make sense of all this insanity, but there were only paintings and every single one was more or less the same depictions of this house in different contexts half built fully renovated abandoned burnt down to a crisp an exceptionally odd one portrayed the windows and doors swarmed with tiny black dots ants who painted these was it abigail did she make the one above the fireplace too smiling turtle in the attic as i crept forward my light swept across a painting with people in it. I crouched down for a closer look. It was a family. Standing in front of the house, a rock-willing and couple with two children, boy and girl. The father was nearly the spitting image of Thomas, right down to his perfect teeth. The young girl

looks sad, despondent. The boy had Thomas's eyes. This had to be his family. Painted when he lived here as a kid, Thomas, his sister Abigail, and their parents. They look so traditional, so serious. It almost made the family upstairs look fun in comparison. Almost. I was about to step away, but I squinted. In this painting, young Thomas looked out of place. Like, he was put there after the fact by a lesser artist.

His dimensions weren't quite right. His arms were just the slightest bit too long, his mouth the slightest bit too wide. Even his texture looked off. I pressed my thumb, tip against his face. The paint for him felt different from the rest. Cheap, acrylic, cold, unnerved, I pulled away my hand, leaving behind a pinkish smear where young Thomas's jaw used to be. Gleam caught my eye. I swiveled to look, but it was just an unlit oil lamp.

It set atop a cramped desk covered in stacks of black leather journals, and above the desk, across a horizontal support beam, a message, scrawled in olive green paint. Thomas Foster is not my brother Oh boy I'm in hell So with all the olive green paint It seems like maybe a girl was kept up in that fucking attic room back in the day

Because olive green door in the attic So I'm like I mean like fucking did the Harry Potter Her ass and keep her up there She went between the attic in the basement The shoot Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. That's why they covered it up.

Yeah, she would go between the attic and the basement, but she's been down here painting and writing these things over and over. She sees the house at every point in time, every destruction. She's Thomas where he really is too. Yes, exactly. Okay, I crossed over. The desk lamp still had oil, and beside it lay an old pack of matches.

I struck one and held it to the lamp until a dim, flickering glow stammered to life. Shaking out the match, I looked around, absorbing the room in all its weirdness. Distorted, jittery shadows cast over precarious picture-frame towers. In the far corner lay a dirt-stained mattress, overgrown with roots, covered in dust, had been touched in years. Is Abigail sleeping down here?

Above the bed hung a rope ladder leading up to a hole in the ceiling. Did that connect to the dumbwaiter? Turning back to the desk, I grabbed a journal from the nearest stack. Maybe this would explain what was going on here. I flipped through, but every single page was filled to the margins with, Thomas Foster is not my brother Thomas Foster is not my brother Thomas Foster is

useless I tossed it aside grabbed another one you are part of the house you are part of you are part of the house you are worthless I snagged the next one

you are not useless I'm just like please read this note and listen to my warnings or just be or just being like, whoever reads this, for the love of God, heed my warning. Yeah. You know? Well, I mean, she's established that. Some weird stuff's going down, right?

Yeah. Well, yeah, Thomas, that big fucking slim jim, son of the bitch is going to be lurking around before too long. I snagged the next one. You are not who they say you are. You are not who they say you are. You are. Nothing. Nothing but the meaningless ramblings of a seriously unstable person. I bet a thousand bucks the next one said All work and no play makes Abigail a dull girl But what did she mean Thomas wasn't her brother I was about to turn away when I noticed a solitary deep red journal

tucked away at the bottom of the furthest stack I shimmied out, cracked it open And skimmed through Entry after entry of young Abigail Talking about moving into the new house Her aspirations to become a painter How she fell out of place in her own skin Yeah we had that note earlier

that she dropped out of art school. Yeah, I'm telling you, I feel like Abigail seems like it's Eve or it's something where... There's some parallelism between them, yeah. I kept flipping through, glimpsing handwritten moments of Abigail's tragic life all the while looking for something,

anything that would help me. She wrote about the kids in school, how they torment her for being too tall, how they called her drabby abbey, drabby, abbey, drabby, abbey, drabby, abbey, drabby, abey. She wrote about the time she shaved her head, how her parents, as punishment, locked her up in the attic,

until all her hair grew back, how they sent her food rations up through the dumbwaiter shoot, how on the first night, locked away up there, she awoke, covered in ants, swarmed from head to toe. She wrote about how she hated being an only child. An only child. Then she wrote about how Thomas was not her brother,

how he came from the woods in the light of day, how he lived here before the house was even built, before the trees rolled. Before that time, so, Oh, I'm in my element. Before the trees were planted, how he was trying to drive her mad and nobody believed her, not even her parents,

how he was trying to turn her into, something caught my periphery. I looked up. Ants. Above the desk from a crack in the wooden beam, a trail of ants crawled out under the olive green O and Thomas. Okay, slipping the red journal into my back pocket. I followed the trail as it disappeared behind a stack of rotting pictures.

frames. They rounded a corner and stretched down an ever-narrowing passage, receding into darkness. I raised the flashlight, flicked it on, and a woman, standing at the edge of a dead-end passage with her back turned. Not Charlie, too tall. It was Abigail, had to be, wearing an off-white hospital gown, just like in the attic. But somehow, it looked like she'd been standing there for years, almost rooted to the ground, like she'd become a part of the room itself, paralyzed, looming, arms-hanging limp. Clutch in her left hand, a small hammer, the same one I'd used to pry nails out from above the fireplace, but now it was covered in red blood. Then she started shaking. A strange, soundless movement, somewhere between weeping and laughter.

I stepped backward and she looked over her shoulder towards me. Her face was pale, sunken cheeks. Her eyes were gently shut. With surprising speed, the trail of ants climbed up the side of her leg onto her back, over her shoulders, and began to circle around her neck, an unearthly choker. Her mouth twisted into a pained, toothy grimace, and then the ants started swarming her face, crawling into her nostrils, her mouth,

writhing ants frantically forcing their way between the cracks of her gums, her teeth, but she remained unfazed, unmoving. The sight was so terrible, so incomprehensible, I question if it was even real. Then the ants began to recede, disappearing into her face until there was only one aunt left, wriggling its way between her blood red gums,

writhing until finally it slipped through her teeth with an almost audible schlick. Abigail's eyes snapped open, cold and blue, wide, mystified. She looked down at the blood-drenched hammer in her hand, face filling with a horrific mixture of terror and unimaginable guilt. She whispered, I took a slow step backward. My name isn't Eve.

Brother. from the tightrope from the watch oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. I'm hanging it up. The jerseys and the rafters. I'm hanging it up.

Yeah, retiring the number. I'm retiring the number. It's up there with mother horse size, dead girl in my yard. Here you're giving me some other. I know there's more. Pimpal.

It's up there right now. So put it. on the Mount Rushmore. Oh, gosh. It's so good. I love weird houses. I love weird stuff. I love weird stuff so much.

That's what, you know, if I got, if I got a billion dollars, right, just unlimited money, I would, I would use a lot of it to help people. Sure. Use a lot of it. Take care of people. Sure. Whatever. But I'd use, I'd use a lot of it to, to make, to make a, oh, do you think the Winchester

house is weird? this thing, this thing wouldn't even make sense. I'd have, I'd have different teams of contractors, so no one knew what each other was building. Has there ever been a Winchester escape room house that someone's built as like, because escape room's still big? Or is that kind of like a dead meme now? They're still out.

They're just less big than they were. I think themed ones are still pretty bit. Like horror escape rooms. Well, in fucking Vegas, when we went to Vegas, there's like a huge John Wick escape room that has like actors in it. That's like pretty fucking crazy. Yeah. Kind of like interesting.

I mean, you know, regardless of if you like the movies or not, it was like pretty, it was a crazy experience. I would love like a like a back rooms or like some living old space, you know. What I'm wondering is like with the Winchester thing because in that area, the Winchester it's such a huge part of their economy like the tour, like people who go and show up whatever. I'm surprised. I mean, I can't even imagine that how expensive it would be.

But like, it not, it doesn't need to be a mansion scale. I'm surprised there isn't a thing where an escape room where things move or you get like, you know, you're like, this doesn't make any sense. I'd be surprised if there wasn't. Dude, there's something so interesting about this to me because like, House of Leaves, I think, was kind of the inception of this idea, at least in a physical form of like a house with the hallways.

In House of Leaves does the character, like, is there something where it's like you've been living here or is like, is there something with the characters like this so far? Because what's happening right now is this is trickling into like, a psychological horror where I think she's going to start believing that she is this person. Like, it's, I think that it's going to be unveiling where she's going to, like, psych yourself out so much that

there's going to be a revelation where Thomas is like, you're very sick. You know, we came here to check on you, blah, blah, Charlie isn't even real. That's your alter ego or something. So in House of Leaves, it's almost the reverse.

In House of Leaves, there's the house and there's the story of the house and people who come across the story began to become obsessed with it and almost like possessed by the presence of it. knowledge. It's like forbidden knowledge. Once it gets into their head, it like starts to consume them. This is almost the other way around where the people in the house are the ones who are like

experiencing and like these lost memories, new knowledge and stuff like that. So it's almost like, imagine if like everyone who knew of this house had those like gaps in memory. See, I feel like I'm deciphering it a different way of like I feel like this is just a literal, like the house has nothing to do with it.

Like to me, I'm almost reading it in a way where it's slowly becoming. a thing where it's like this is a character study of Eve who is like maybe not going insane but it's something where her psychosis or something is enveloping these things that she's saying. I would agree

if it were not for the fact that the first thing he said is Abigail saw the rooms changing and the walls changing and stuff like that. Well what I'm saying is that I feel like Eve or Abigail if she is this character is experiencing that kind of psychosis and she's saying that she's seeing those things

and it's like it's a character. It's like it's a part of her, her loop or whatever with each maybe thing that she's manifesting. But then there's also the element that Thomas is some kind of supernatural thing.

He was here before the trees were, you know? Yeah. Well, I mean, once again, I'm still like my money, or at least so far

how I'm deciphering it is, well, one, I don't know if I believe Thomas is an entity versus someone who is, is it going to be someone who is trying to,

like, if there was a person who was in like a deep psychosis or something and they're like, you need help or whatever, are they manifesting that person? to be something they're not. Yeah. You know, I don't know.

There's so many different avenues, you know. I mean, there's still so much to be discovered, but it's fun to think about. Yeah. It's fun to say, what if forever, but you might as well keep reading. Keep reading. My name is an Eve. She spun around and took a sudden step towards me, a sudden unbalanced movement as if puppeteered from above. Staggering forward, she raised the hammerback, wound up to strike, and I turned and hauled it out of there.

Abigail, in pursuit, I barreled up the stairs, out of the empty room, into the hallway and ran faster than I'd ever run in my entire damn life. Before me, her bare feet slapped against concrete, gaining. Wait! Scambling forward, I slid around a corner, doors on either side blurred past, numbered, symmetrical, wait, wasn't I already here? Ahead of me, a dead end. Above me, the ominous drones returned with a vengeance.

Behind me, footfalls, getting closer. Left with no choice, I shoved into the nearest room, pulled the door shut, and reached for the... No lock. I scanned around hunting for a weapon something to bar the door a place to hide anything

but there wasn't wait in the far corner a shutter door wardrobe without thinking I hurtled over whipped inside yanked the door shut

and held it there all the while the scraping sounds from upstairs grew louder my heart pumped with short stuttering sprints oh damn damn

shut a beef calm down just calm down it's only one person yeah Yeah, but she's armed with a hammer and ants crawled into her face and she's probably going, stop. Just stop. First off, turn the flashlight off.

It's lighting you up like a billboard. Minor voice was starting to sound weirdly similar to a frustrated Charlie. I don't know if that's a good thing, but I switched off the flashlight. Okay, it's off. Yeah. Okay, good. Now, breathe, inhale slowly through your nostrils, hold it, and then exhale through your mouth. Does this not read almost like the way that she has conversations with Charlie?

The way that she talks with Charlie and stuff, the same way that Charlie says, like, don't do this now. Yeah. Is that not the same way that she's been referring to herself, you know? Yeah. Or that she's been talking with herself. Yeah. That's the thing that draws the suspicion is they've done this great, there's been this

great dynamic between Charlie and, you know, well, Charlie's basically the polar opposite of me. Yeah. Whatever. It's like it's your conscious or your like rationalization that is like now almost manifested itself. It's why I keep thinking it's leaning that way where Charlie might be a manifestation, whatever. And these big lapse of time and like, you know, whatever.

Yeah. Whatever. Yeah, no. I know. I think that's certainly possible. It could be that Charlie's kind of like a manifestation. I would also say that, um, what was I going to say? Oh, yeah.

This reads very similar to. Because it's not a connected story directly, but there's a lot of similarities between this and the thing and my basement takes a step closer. Between the house and like the basements and stuff. There's a lot of similar themes. Also the deception. And the deception of everything. That's one thing that I feel like Marcus is very good at us. Setting up things and making you think one way and then just being like, are you sure? You're confused in a good way. Yeah.

But that whole the talking to yourself thing. And even you remember in the thing in my basement, he kept doing the what's three things you can see, three things you can smell. As I got to the burnt hair and gasoline over and over. She did that exact thing earlier. When she's naming stuff, she can see in here and smell.

Yeah, it's like, it could just be a thing he likes to use, a dynamic he likes to use in stories. But I almost feel, I'll save it for the end, but I almost feel there's like a, a thematic connection between Eve and that protagonist. in a way.

Of the other story? Yes. Yeah. We can see it. We see it all the time with creepypastas. That's like a huge thing. Yeah. Our session,

no sleep, those intertwining. And not even that they're like literally connected, but like the theme of what they're going through feels very similar. Oh, sure. And I think that sometimes too, I mean, like just, I mean, you get it too. I think like people like to, people like to splash around the puddles. They like to splash around creatively, right? So it could be a thing where he's just like doing this. And the whole thing of like listing things off might be something he does in his real life.

just translates into the stories too i breathed in through my nose held it and excelled through my mouth did that help my heart still thumped like a stampede do it again dip shit okay maybe my inner voice was a little meaner than charlie but it was actually helping my heartwave was slowing down continuing to focus on my breath i peered out through the wardrobe shutters into the dark room now the sounds from upstairs were embarrassably loud an ever-rising earthquake getting stronger and stronger then the door to the room swung open instant silence there she stood bloody hammer in hand Abigail deeply regretting my choice of a hiding spot I sucked in a spurt of air and held my breath be quiet Abigail loomed into the room

almost bending over as she passed through the doorframe oh my gosh she was tall hammer at the ready she crept deeper I'm sorry she trailed off she started circling the room like a caged animal about Charlie. She's still alive, but Thomas said it was the only way I could leave. What did she mean? What happened to Charlie? Was that Charlie's blood on the hammer? Questions raised through me, but my survival instinct pushed them back. Escape, survive. Figure this out later. All the while, I was holding my breath, still desperately try not to make a sound. Pins and needles pricked across my face, lungs growing tighter. Abigail wondered around the room for what felt like an eternity. Then she lurched to a stop.

side turned for the door and drifted away one painfully slow step at a time every fiber of my being screamed don't breathe don't you breathe just hang on a little longer but my lungs forced me to gasp in air abigail froze in the doorframe peered back over his shoulder and looked directly at the wardrobe then she tilted her head the exact same way the shadow we figure on the basement steps did head still cocked she stepped back into the room and out from her ear down onto her neck crawled a thin trail of ants oh my god she took a step closer and another one eve is that you she whispered edging forward her voice was tinged with repressed excitement now like she was about to pull off a horrific prank eve don't worry everything's going to be okay

we can help each other you could help me leave it and I can help you find Charlie your Charlie I can help you find your Charlie interesting and I can help you find your Charlie interesting

lips quivering she stood right in front of the wardrobe now staring at me through the shutters her eyes were empty like a doll's her cold breath brushed against my face frigid slowly raising her hand she slid her long fingers into the shutters reaching for me

I leaned back as far as I could, but her jagged, overgrown fingernail scratched against my cheek. It's all cave. The ants were now flooding off her hand, rushing down from her fingers onto her nails and onto my face. Swarming ants crept over my skin towards my mouth, towards enough. In one quick motion, I pressed my palm up against her outstretched fingers until they snapped back with the sickening crack. I drop kick the door open and Abby wrenched to the same. side shrieking bloody murder her mangled fingers still caught between the shutters trapped the hammer and slid to a stop in the doorway shooting across the room i snagged the hammer and kept running frantically

spitting ants out of my mouth all the while behind me Abigail screeched and wailed struggling to yank her twisted hand out from the shutters good luck doors blurred past as i darted down the hallway hunting for the stairs escape just escape behind me her warbled screams echoed getting louder closer she was already free. Damn. She was gaining on me this time. She was vengeful. Part of me wanted to turn around and smash her skull, but I doubted I could bring myself to do it, even in self-defense. Plus, I wasn't sure if she was even human, so I just kept running. Until finally, I came upon the stairs, still highlighted with a trail of blood. Sorry, Charlie, but if I don't get out of here now, we're both dead. I bounded upwards until behind me, Abigail's cold, writhing hands grasped at my heels,

reaching for my ankles, trying to pull me back in a darkness. But the door was just inside. I was almost there, almost free, and I burst into the living room, spun around, shoulder slamed the door shut, expecting a struggle, but there was nothing. No more footsteps. No more screaming. Only silence. Defending silence.

What's wrong? Thomas's bewildered voice called out from behind, but I didn't look. I was so intent on holding the door shut. I almost forgot the family was even there. Sure, they were god-awful, but at least ants weren't crawling out of their ears. Behind me, I could hear Thomas rise to a stand and march across the room. I didn't look back. I kept holding the door.

Suddenly, he jerked me away. What is going on? He blinked at me, stunned. Then I realized what he was looking at. The blood soaked hammer in my hand. Reaching down, he yanked it away. What did you find this? He held it up, but it was no longer covered in blood.

It was spotless. inexplicably spotless. He tossed it across the room, hitting the floor, slid to a stop in the quiet corner. I was too shocked to even respond, too exhausted to even fight back, felt like the entire universe was slowly turning upside down. Were you hurting yourself again?

His voice was filled with distress, concern even. He began patting his hands over my neck, my shoulder, searching for injuries. Thomas. Page called from across the room, but he ignored her, still checking to make sure I wasn't hurt. talk to me what happened down there Thomas

Page snapped so loud he almost jumped He looked back She stirred him down with a vicious glare Take her upstairs You're scaring the children The kids were sitting in front of the fireplace Gaping at me with shock And that's when it finally hit me

Everything was different Completely different The furniture The rug on the floor The candles on the tables The paintings on the walls Everything The house was now decorated

like a throwback American dream home. I open my mouth to speak, but only a sputtering wheeze escaped. What was happening? Signed, Thomas tied into script, pulled me away and pushed me into the foyer. I don't know what happened down there, but I need you to listen to me. He stared in my eyes, deadly serious. You have to get yourself together, or I'm calling the ward. Do you understand, Abby?

The kids have had their aunt running around the house like a lunatic. I stared up at him blankly. Abby? their aunt? Was this really his plan? Was he really going to try and convince me I was his sister all along? How stupid did he think I was?

That dumb shit might have worked on a 12-year-old Abigail, but not on me. It would take a lot more than a redecorated house to make me believe I was a completely different person. I cleared my throat. What? What did you do to my house? Ignoring that question, he took a new tact, smiling sadly. You're my sister.

I do anything to help you, but I can't put my family safe. safety at risk any longer. Do you understand? For a moment, part of me wondered if I was truly insane, if I might actually be a sister, but none of that made any sense. Not how hallucinations work, not how insanity works, right? Besides, everything that happened so far was technically inside the realm of plausibility. Insanely screwed up, yes, but not impossible.

Maybe they were working with other people. Maybe they moved all the furniture inside while I was downstairs. Maybe they drugged me with hallucinogens after I hit my head or maybe Maybe Abigail's journal was right Maybe Thomas really did live here before the house was even built Before the trees were even planted Maybe he came from the woods in the light of Eve Those were just the ramblings of an unwell mind

He's only a person a psychopath but a person nonetheless I refocused Play along until the police show up or until you find the right moment to escape Come back with help and save Charlie don't escalate things yet. Smiling back, I nodded gently. Good. Now. You continued.

We were just about to have dinner. I love you to join us. Show the kids, show the kids everything's okay. Tell them their aunt was just looking for something down in the basement and got lost, all right? Okay. We love you, Abby. You're a part of this family.

I reached out and touched my shoulder gently. I shuddered, but it didn't seem to notice or care. you'll get through this you've gotten through worse thanks thomas smiling warmly he turned back for the kitchen lingering behind i watched him go wait until he disappeared around the corner and then i dashed to the front door grabbed the handle and locked from the outside i went for the window barred the adjacent room every single window was barred my house was like a prison now how did they pull all this off so quickly abby called out from the kitchen you ready for dinner I stopped, took a deep breath, collected myself. Eve, you're outnumbered. Play long until help shows up. If help doesn't show, do whatever it takes to find Charlie, even if you have to burn this house to the ground.

End of part three. And the worst coat here is Abigail. So where is Abigail is what it is so far? I'm guessing par four is the last part. Yeah, I mean, there's 14 pages left, so I assume. Yeah. Part four. The family was seated around my dinner table like it was their own. Eating, laughing, living it up without a care to be had.

But as soon as I entered, the party stopped. Just sat there, staring at me as if I was the one who didn't belong. Thomas filled the dead air. Abigail, there you are. Wiping his mouth with a red handkerchief that matched his shirt. You were going to share with us what happened in the basement, yes? Keep playing along, Eve, don't escalate, wait for help to show up. Why do they all look so calm?

I was looking for tools and got lost in the dark. It reminded me of an old memory, a scary one, and I let my imagination get the better of me. But I'm okay now, and it was all in my head. Thomas gave a slight nod. Good work. It's nodded to. Paige. She just stared at me.

Eyes narrowing. A sharp gust of wind slammed against the windows. The house lights flickered. The family jumped. Thomas looked outside, shaking his head. These storms get worse over year. hopefully the power holds out. Emotion for me to take a seat,

hesitating I stepped forward, pulled back an empty chair, and sat. Page wrapped her fingers around the handle of a serrated steak knife. Your auntie's going to be moving out soon, kids. She said, got into her stake, blood oozing from the veins of the dead meat. Jenny, the hide and seeker,

just sat there, watching me. Only now her previous gloom was gone. She looked content, cheerful almost. Stared back, searching for cracks in the performance. there were none. Abby? I looked up.

He blinked at me, expecting an answer to a question I didn't even hear. You're going to explain your reasoning from moving out? Oh. I just think it's time for me to be on my own. Feels like the right time. The kids nodded in unison.

Well, you sure will be missed. But I think we can all agree it's time for a change. I managed to fake another smile. Didn't know how many more. morning I left in me. So? Said Thomas, turning towards his daughter. How was school today?

Jenny smiled, cheapish. I don't know. Why, you don't know? That's a first. Jenny gave a little shrug and smiled wider. Thomas leaned forward. You gotta tell me one thing that happened. Just one thing.

That's all I ask. Jenny laughed a bit. Okay, um, there, there was a dog in class today. A dog? What's a dog doing in a school? It was a seeing eye dog. She squirmed in her seat, shy.

Thomas sprinkled salt onto his steak. An eye seeing dog. What's that? It's a dog that it helps blind people walking around. Wow. A professional dog. What's that? Thomas raised an eyebrow.

Professional? Mm-hmm. It's when you get paid for your work. Oh, I don't think the dog's getting paid. Well, he should. Maybe with treats? Thomas John Golden glanced over at me the way a proud parent does. His eyes filled with, isn't she cute?

For a moment, I almost forgot everything else that was going on. It was just a typical family dinner. But then... What about your friend in the city? S. Page, killing the mirage, right on cue. Step back into the screwed up present. What? She gulped down another mouthful of steak.

Your friend in the city? does she still have that spare room I shook my head not sure how to respond page side your friend Charlie my stomach twisted oh I

I don't know if if she still lives there I replied continuing to play along barely said Thomas dousing his mashed potatoes with gravy we'll figure something out but don't feel rushed

you can always stay longer if needed one week is just ideal for us. Paige shot him a disapproving look. Wow, a whole week to move out of my own house. Thanks, Thomas. Very generous. Said, sounded a little more sarcastic than intended. Page huffed and rose from the table. She strode to the cupboard and grab a bottle of Charlie's favorite red wine.

Perusing for an extra moment, she grabbed the corkscrew, eyes locked onto mine. She sat back down, twisted the corkscrew into the wine cork, and another ruthless blast of wind pushed through the house. The lights flickered on and off until darkness, power outage. And off the orange glove, the living room fireplace, it would have been pitch dark. Thomas led out an exasperated sigh. Great. Don't get the candles. Pushing up from the table, he stepped out of the kitchen. It's not my chance?

What do I do? The front door is locked. The windows are barred. Abigail, Queen of the Ans is down in the basement. Can't even hear myself think. Page kept cranking on that corkscrew, staring at me the whole time. She had to be doing it on purpose now. Then finally she popped out the cork poured until her glass was nearly full Right to the brim classy. Then that's when I noticed the necklace

Around Paige's neck Charlie's necklace. I checked my back pocket empty a flood of emotions followed Grief fear confusion rage it started at my temples pushed to my hands my feet every single part of me like an uncontrollable wildfire. Until now, I'd been in denial about what happened downstairs. Charlie wasn't hiding. Charlie wasn't being held captive. Charlie was dead.

She must be. Yeah, Abigail said Charlie was alive. I saw that hammer. It was covered in blood. And now Paige Foster was wearing Charlie's locket like it was her own. Where did you find that? I said almost blurting it out.

Hmm? Said Paige, slowly looking towards me, sipping from her wine. The necklace. Where'd you find it? Oh, just a store. I rose to a stand. The kids tinsed up, weary.

Paige stared at me, confused. I moved closer. Wait, what was I doing here? What was my plan? Abigail? Said Paige, nervous. She kept lathering on, but I wasn't there anymore. I was in the past.

Memories were playing out of my head. Those strange little moments that stand out more and more as time goes on, the way Charlie snorted when she laughed sometimes. Then laughed even harder out of embarrassment. The way her face lit up every time she saw a dog stick its head out of a car window. The way she wrapped her arms around me from behind, and nuzzled her chin up to my neck as we fell asleep. All these memories played out of my head like they were happening right now.

And then, before I even knew what I was doing, I grabbed Paige with one hand and the corkscrew with the other. Arms gripped around her. I pulled back and her chair fell to the floor with a crash. Time slowed to a near stop. As I held the corkscrew to the side of her throat, her children screamed, the fireplace crackled, the wind outside howled, the page, she was silent. For the first time in her life, she didn't have a thing to say. Not one word, only quick, terrified

little breaths. Music. Whoa, no. Said Thomas tread into the dining room, cell phone in hand. Cell phone. See, that's the thing. She can't just be crazy because she remembers the present. She remembers things like phones and stuff like that, right? I mean, sure, it's the 50s, but they wouldn't have, or 70s or they wouldn't have cell phones, right? So there's some disparity happening with that other than just her being crazy, I think. I've been spun around a million times. I have no idea where I'm going. I'm so scared right now. A spun page around to face him. Where is Charlie? Kids, go to your rooms, lock the doors. But they didn't respond. They just sat there, paralyzed. No! He boomed and they scrambled out of the kitchen. Abigail. He spoke as calmly as possible.

to let her go. What the fuck happened to Charlie? Took a deep breath, excelled. She's living in the city now. You told us yourself. Abby, you... Thomas, stop! My name isn't Abby.

I'm fucking done with this. Just tell me where Charlie is right now. Thomas, Thomas, please. Page's voice quivered, petrified. Paige, don't worry. She's not gonna do anything. Abby, listen to me. Charlie's okay. We can call it right now.

She didn't explain everything and... The medications. I know you've been missing your doses That's what's happening here Your mind is going through withdrawal playing tricks on you Your sponsor they're on the way right now They're gonna try to help you and yelled up his phone Look, I mean I just called him and Thomas

Y yelled so loud it shook the floorboards I lowered my voice Thomas I need to listen to me Listen carefully If you don't tell me where it Charlie is Something really Really bad is gonna happen Paige wince as the corkscrew pricked against her skin

Did Thomas just tell her She quivered again riddled with fear Thomas took another small step forward Abby listen to me I needed to grind yourself Focus on your senses Focus on Wait how did he know about that

Focus on Sight Page's blonde hair Thomas's dumb struck face The glow of the fireplace Sound heart thumping Panicked breath Howling wind

smell red wine blood desperation touch My hand gripped tightly around the corkscrew and a sudden, clined pain shot through my right thigh. My whole body tinsed up in a spasm. I staggered backward, let go of Paige and looked down. My gosh, she stabbed a steak knife right into my thigh. Then I realized my hands were empty. The corkscrew was gone.

Page toppled to the floor like a bowling pin. The bloody knife was still in her hand. She hit the ground choking, gargling. What just happened? My eyes started around for an answer until finally I saw the, corkscrew was lodged, handled deep into the side of Page's throat. Oh shit. I must have.

I didn't mean to. A thin line of blood trailed down her neck onto the hardwood floor. Her mouth slowly open and closed, open and closed like she was trying to speak, trying to breathe. Page. Thomas whispered, stunned. I stumbled backward into the kitchen. Snapping from his days, Thomas collapsed the floor over Paige. He held her neck trying to stop the bleeding.

Page. He stared into her eyes, but her gaze just flicked side to side. empty desperation growing Thomas pressed harder trying to stop the bleeding mind spinning leg throbbing I limped out of the kitchen and into the hallway Paige wasn't human I told myself She wasn't even real

None of this is real But it felt real more real than anything I'd ever felt Every memory I ever had good or bad It didn't matter everything drowned in the present Staggering into the moonlit foyer I went for the door locked I already knew that Damn I needed to get out of here

I looked down a dark circle of warm blood seeped through jeans deal with that later just get outside I turned around and remembered the hammer I could use it to pry open the door Thomas whimpered from the kitchen I'm here I'm here page I'm focus Eve I swept back into the living room trudged up to the so-called quiet corner snatched up the hammer and scrambled back to the foyer wasting no time I shimmied it pry bar first into the doorframe and wrenched back the wood splintered and strained I kept prying kept pulling but it seemed hopeless it seemed

Thomas screamed, animalistic, filled with unimaginable grief, rage, and I knew exactly what it meant. Page was dead. No, no, no! He trailed off into a strange, guttural moan, tragic and terrifying all at once. He clenched his fist, thud against the floor, an impact so heavy I could hear the hardwood crack. More screaming, thrashing. Now he was breaking things, tearing apart the kitchen, wrathful. I pried on the door harder and harder, but it was no use. It wouldn't budge.

He screamed his voice filled with murder. Screw the door. Hammer's still in hand. I scrambled upstairs. Thomas charged into the foyer just in time to see me disappear at the top of the steps. Right leg going numb, I pushed off the wall and staggered down the hallway. Behind me, footsteps thundered up the stairs like an ever-rising war drum. I tried the first door, locked. The next one, locked. My eyes shot down to the end of the hall. Abigail's bedroom

screw it I burst inside slammed the door shut spinning around I pressed my back up against it I scanned the room searching for

somewhere to hide somewhere to Abigail she was standing in the far corner of her room back turn head slumped shaking

sobbing weeping she whimpered again and again sorry about what behind me the door burst open and Thomas slammed

into me like a freight train pinning me against a barred window he jammed his forearm against my throat crushing it. He stared at my eyes, silent, possessed by rage, sorrow. As I gasped for air, I looked to the far corner. Empty. Abigail was gone. Was she even there to begin with?

I looked back to Thomas. Before this, I thought maybe he'd been putting on a show, but now I could finally see it in his eyes. He actually believed he lived in this house. He actually believed I was his sister, but... We did so much for you. He snarled spit-spraying my face. we gave you everything with his free hand he clutched me by the hair jerked my head forward and smash it back into the wall

throbbing pain we accepted you into our home he slammed my head back again harder this time each impact heavier than the last pain radiated vision grew blurry this was it I was going to die this was

might as well back dip shit with my left leg and all my remaining strength I need him in the stomach when did he staggered backward crumpled to his knees, I gassed in air, barely conscious. He looked up, readied himself to lunge, and I swung the hammer, claw in first into the side of his face. A sickening crack filled the room as it lodged into his jaw. Still on his knees, Thomas stared up at me in disbelief. He didn't think I was capable of this. Neither did I. Our eyes locked for a strange, quiet moment, and then I pressed my

foot onto his stomach. Pushed it forward, and with both arms, all my shoulders. All my shrink, wrenched back. The hammer tore open his face with a sickening wet sound. His perfect teeth ripped out and clattered to the floor in a bloody mess. D-jawed the guy.

He crumpled over, blood trailing down his jaw over his neck. The torn flap of his cheek hung open, dangling. Horrific. But slowly, I raised the hammer, tinsed up, and Thomas started sobbing. His pitiful, rising wimpers filled Abigail's room like a noxious cloud. He was holding his face

now as if trying to put himself back together. Blood seeped through his fingers and his whimpering grew more panicked, more desperate. But please, please don't, Navi, please. He sputtered, drooling ropes of blood onto the floor. All the while I just stood there, hammer raised, readying myself to finish the job, but I I couldn't. Despite all my fear, all my hatred, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Page was an accident.

I'm not a killer. I lowered my arm. The blood-soaked hammer slipped from my hand and fell to the floor. I staggered back towards the hallway, stepped out, and started to pull the door shut, but at the last second, Thomas' eyes snapped up and his face twisted into a mangled grin. Where are you going, Eve?

Oh, brother. I yanked the door shut and held it. Why the hell did he just call me that? Hold that thought. I grabbed a red chair from the hallway and wedged it under the door handle. Focus. But what was he smiling at me? Stop, Eve. Focus.

Help isn't coming. They would have been here by now. Get outside. Get to the neighbors. But the front door was locked. All the windows were barred. Maybe there was something. The attic, the porthole window.

There's no way that's part. Just get up there, onto the roof, find a way down, jump in a snowbank if you have to. I yanked down the attic staircase and climbed, wincing pain throbbed with every step. All the while, not a peep from Abigail's bedroom, not a bang on the door, not a whimper, not even a footstep. Only silence. Terrifying silence. Hoisting myself up, I ran down the narrow hallway. Ignored the pain, keep moving.

Lightheaded. I stumbled into the corner. room to the porthole window and pushed it open. I shimmied myself up and through, a tight fit wriggling my way out. A hand clutched around my ankle and yanked me back inside. I slammed into the splinter ridden floor chin first and spun around just in time to see the moonlight glisten off Thomas's torn open face. How did it get up here so quickly? He lunged onto me, wrapped his hands around my throat and started to squeeze. We built this house. He boomed like a matto-a-pillar. possible, slaubbering blood onto my face. I reached up, grabbed his wrist, tried to pull them away,

but it was no use. He squeezed tighter, a lump formed in my throat, like an ever-expanding cyst. I couldn't breathe. I was fading. Shadows crawled from the corners of my eyes. Everything was becoming nothing. He lowered his voice to a spitting whisper. We showed the forest. Great. I get to die listening to a psychotic maniac. Right then, a shiny glen, caught the corner of my eye. I looked over. Universal tire chains. Thanks Charlie. With a final push of resistance, I reached, wrapped the tips of my fingers around the chains in. We give left. I swung. The chains cracked into his temple and his head twisted to the side. A red curtain of blood

whipped onto the floor, the wall, the turtle painting. Slowly he turned back to me, but now his gaze was empty, vacant. Blood trailed from his cracked temple. into his twitching eye and dripped onto my cheek. His grip loosened. You before you. Before you. He trailed off into incoherent mumbles. Tire chain's still in hand.

I shoved him off me and pushed up to standing. Thomas tried to stand too, but he couldn't. He fell back to his knees and looked up at me, barely conscious. He kept trying to talk only to mutter incoherently. He kept trying to stand only to fall back down. I stepped around, faced him from behind. where is Charlie Thomas only responded with more meaningless mumbles enough I breathed in and on my Excel wrapped the chains around his neck I pulled back he reached up pawing trying to tear them

away futile weak pulling tighter I pressed my knee into his back and pushed he gasped choking wheezing I pulled back even harder he coughed a spatter of blood his efforts to fight were fading with each passing second until finally. Stop! I looked up. In the doorway, eyes wide with terror, stood Charlie. I froze in shock, released Thomas and staggered back. He fell forward, gasping for breath, barely alive.

Charlie? But Charlie was looking down, absorbing the side of a devastated Thomas. Then she looked up at me. Question shuffled through my head so rapidly I couldn't even speak. What about her phone in the basement? How was she okay? How was she alive? All the while, Charlie didn't say a word.

She just stood there, eyes filled with growing fear, but she wasn't scared of Thomas. She was scared of me. Charlie, wait. I finally managed, lowering the chains. I took a step forward, but she stepped back. Eyes flicking down to the blood's slicked weapon in my hand. I dropped the chains and took another step.

Charlie kept backing away, shaking her head on the verge of tears, devastated. downstairs the front door burst open heavy footsteps clambered through the foyer up the stairs sirens charlie i can i can't i can't explain i stammered voice cracking she looked into my eyes one last time then turned away disappearing down the hallway she's up here said charlie wait i stepped over thomas into the hallway and two police officers grabbed me by the arms shoved me into the wall face first pink insulation sliced my skin like paper cuts a classed handcuffs around my wrist and yanked me back. I didn't fight. I didn't even speak. I just stared ahead blankly as they tugged me through the attic. Now, from exhaustion and blood loss, I was slipping in and out of consciousness. As they dragged me down the upstairs hallway, a few paramedics rushed into

the attic. My gauge drifted across the wall. The dumbwaiter shoot was once again covered up, as if it were never even there to begin with. They pulled me around a corner. My eyes landed on a cracked bedroom door. From behind it, Jenny peered out. face filled with inconsolable dread. They pulled me down the stairs into the foyer towards the front door. Just as they pulled me outside, I looked back and saw a painting. On the foyer wall, a painting of the house covered up the jagged hole. Thomas' family was in it.

Can also just make a note too. Earlier whenever she said that she's like there was Thomas and he looked fucked, whatever, not like hers. She touched his jaw and moved the paint out of the way from his, Oh yeah. Yeah, that's right. Like it was covered up. Like the facade was put back up. Yeah, but yeah, the painting of the cheap material. Whatever when she touched it. She moved the jaw. That's a good call. I forgot about that. Yeah. Thomas's family was in it. Page and three kids. All of them standing out front, happy, smiling, but behind them peering out through the porthole window, a hazy solitary figure, eternally trapped. Outside, the storm was over now. Snow was melting.

as the sun crept up over distant mountains the sky split down the middle half night half day on the ground commotion everywhere fire trucks cop cars ambulances neighbors crowding on the street harpreida miguel among them my started around looking for charlie but she was nowhere to be seen the cops dragged me down the driveway past the yellow tape through the crowds onto the street and then i saw standing at the edge of the forest hands once again covering her face like a peekaboo Abigail. But slowly she started to pull her hands apart, revealing her face bit by bit, till finally showing herself fully. This time, in the early morning light, her once dull eyes were now permeating with life. Vitality. Her once sunken face was full again, red-cheeked. She looked straight into my tear-stricken soul and smiled, serene, a look of pure, contented peace. grateful grateful for what then she turned around withdrew into the darkened woods away from the crowds the chaos the house before i could even process what this meant i was thrown into the back of a van and the door slammed shut darkness

everyone keeps calling me abigail but my name is eve i was born on october third nineteen eighty seven at 256 in the morning. My current residence is 3719 Heritage Lane. My partner, the love of my life, is Charlie Bastion. We renovate old houses and flip them for profit. We've been together for the last seven years. My name is Eve Palmer, but everyone keeps calling me Abigail Foster. Now, even according to my official documents, the family owns the house, and they've been living there for years.

all my neighbors vouched for them even her pre-to-Megel nobody recognizes me even more not even Charlie I still look the way I always have but everyone treats me like I'm a completely different person you know what's fucked up is like in her mind I bet you fucking anything

Abigail was the person who went up to their house and did I used to live here or something and they're like oh I guess you could come in and they took her in or something I mean Yeah. I don't know. It's like a cyclic thing happening. It's almost like Abigail switched places with her because she's like it's the only way I can leave.

I think she did what she thought they did to her. It's like a cycle of people new come to this house and it just repeats and repeats and repeats. So now, beyond all reason, all justice, I'm locked away in a criminal psych war charged with one count of homicide and one count of attempted. Locked away in a room no bigger than a walk-in closet.

White walls, rickety bed, cold fluorescent light. Not sure how long it's been anymore. It could be months. It could be years. According to the lead doctor here, I've been an out of mental wards my whole life. They tell me I've got a laundry list of psychotic delusions. They say my version of events.

Story above is nothing but an elaborate hallucination mixed in with little bits of reality. Complete bullshit. Complete fucking bullshit. Which also would explain her delusions of being like, I flip houses. I'm in and out of wards all the time. is what I think is why she's like,

I flip houses. I bet you fucking do. We never lived anywhere for that long. Exactly. I've done enough reading to know that psychotic delusions and hallucinations don't work that way. They don't work like they do in stories with continuity and tied up blue sins.

These weren't hallucinations. These weren't delusions. Somehow, Thomas Foster bent reality around me like a frayed wire. Yep. This is the sane person talking for sure. Well, I mean, she's, she's got got she screwed there is no way she is going to be able to talk her way out of what happened

like thomas got her right oh do you believe that she's not crazy yeah with the woman in the attic and the peekaboo and the running through the forest and all that yeah i think that she's completely fucking delusional yeah i think there's some weird i think him getting think about so thomas Whipped in the face. Thomas fabricated documents that had records of her in a psych ward In and out of psych ward. She switched places with Abigail. Abigail said this was the only way

I'm sorry. Thomas is something else. Why would Charlie not? Why is Charlie turning on her then? Because like you said, the reality wrapped around her, right? Or wrapped around the house. Oh man. I feel like we have completely different

Okay. Well, we're almost doing it. Thomas Foster bit reality around me like afraid wire and I'm pretty sure Sister Abigail was in on it too. I'm still putting it all together, but I think she took me down in exchange for her freedom. I think she replaced me. As for the rest of his family, I don't know if they were in on it, held captive or something in between. I'm still figuring that one out. What about Charlie? According to so-called officials, Charlie was nothing more than my part-time sponsor for the last six months. Basically a volunteer caretaker. Maybe that's what she is now. she is in this reality. At first I thought everyone was pulling some horrific stunt on me. Even the

doctors. Like I said, neighbors, friends, even my own parents. Nobody recognizes me anymore. It's like Thomas Foster pushed me into a completely different reality. So what do I turn to? Charlie. I've tried to contact her dozens of times. Email, phone, even letters, but she never responded. Not even once. The only good thing about this place is the library. I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm sure this facility helps people who actually need it, but I don't need it. I'm not psychotic.

Thomas Foster is. That said, if this place didn't have a library, there's a good chance I would have actually lost my mind. They've got computers with internet too. So on internet, but still, that's where I've been doing my research, writing the real version of events, putting together my case. I still have Abigail's journal too. So I'm threading together pieces from that. Oh, so this is how they connect the R slash no sleep thing, is that she's got the story through the, yeah. Throwning together pieces from that, figuring out what Thomas is, how to stop him.

I'm not going to share everything until my case is airtight, but you just wait. Soon enough, the whole world will know what Thomas Foster did to me. Either way, I don't care if you believe me or not. Even if I had all the evidence in the world, it wouldn't matter to some of you. I just need to convince the few people I still care about first. Then I'll worry about everything else. But despite all this, I feel hopeful. As long as I can stay stable, play along with the doctors.

If nothing sets me off, then I can finally get out of here. Then I can finally talk to Charlie in person and explain what happened. Find a way to make everything go back to how it was before. At least, that's how I felt up until a week ago. I was lying on my bed when... My eyes caught something up on the white stucco ceiling, a solitary aunt, endlessly wandering in circles. Abigail? A voice snapped me out of a daze. I turned.

Standing in the doorway, a nurse, two security guards behind her. You have a visitor. Flickering cold fluorescent light cast over the visiting room, faded brick walls, spaced apart tables, guards standing at attention in every doorway. Finally, the door buzzed open, and in walked, Thomas Foster. The father, I suppose a brother. A sickening chill crawled down my spine. Caught my eyes from across the room and gave me a lopsided smile. The side of his face was scarred, but considering the injury, surprisingly well healed.

His eyes were bright, present. I looked down at the table, staring at my handcuffed wrist. Part of me was expecting the visitor to be Charlie. I don't know why. Still holding out hope, I guess. Thomas sat down across from me. A long silence passed, buzzing lights From somewhere deep within the ward

muffled hysterical laughter Laughter that slowly turned sorrowful weeping Abigail Said Thomas finally breaking the silence I didn't look up My eyes traced back and forth along the handcuffs chains He cleared his throat It's okay if you're still not ready to talk

I mean I understand I just wanted to share a few things Thomas waited for me to acknowledge him I didn't So he just kept going. This is kind of odd, but... Do you remember Walter? Nope.

He continued. Walter. My pet tortoise. You actually made me a painting of him for my fifth birthday. Still up in my office. I must have been six, maybe seven when he died. Even little things can be pretty world ending when you're a kid. Everyone kept trying to make me feel better, except dad.

He said I needed to get over it by the end of the day. Mom said it was normal. Tommy, she told me. Pets die all the time. Part of life. Walter's up in heaven now. I don't know if you remember this, but you're the only one who actually made me feel any better. I looked up.

He was looking down at the table now. You just sat beside me. Raved an arm around my shoulder and let me cry. That's it. No lessons, no advice, no ultimatums. Just sat there quietly and let me know it's okay to feel like crap sometimes, even if it was just a stupid turtle. He sniffed a little.

I started into water. Gosh, Abby, I don't know. I've been thinking a lot about you lately. I looked right at me, and I looked away. It's okay if you don't want to talk. I get it. I just want to let you know that... I paused a moment, thinking over his next words carefully.

I've been working on myself a lot, and through all this, you've relapsed, my injuries, pages passing. I've rejoined the church I don't know if you knew but I'd lost my faith but paused again expecting me to say something but I remained silent

cleared his throat I've been talking with doctors here and they said you've made a lot of progress they said as long as you keep at it keep improving following your guidance following their guidance as long as nothing unexpected happens you could be out of probation

sooner than you think remained quiet look I've come to accept that you weren't in control of your actions. You have a condition, a condition you're getting treated for. And I just want to let you know that, Abby? Leaned in slightly.

Abby, look at me. Slowly, I turned and stared blankly into his eyes. He stared back for a sullen moment. I forgive you. The words hung in the air like a rotting stench, but my face remained neutral. I looked away. Thomas kept hovering, waiting for a response. But again,

He gave him nothing. That was a plainest make-belief game. Not anymore. A few ten seconds went by until he nodded slowly. I understand. We can talk when you're ready. Stead up, turned to leave, and froze. Oh.

I almost forgot. Pivoting back, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a manila envelope. The guard said I could leave this here. I placed it on the table. I know it meant a lot to you and Charlie. Finally, I looked up at him. For the briefest of moments, his face twitched. Then he smiled sadly, turned around, went for the exit.

Footsteps punctuated the silence. The door buzzed shut as he left the room. I just sat there, staring at the envelope. I already knew what was inside, but I couldn't bring myself to look. Seconds dragged by like minutes until finally I reached forward, opened it, looked in, and aching sorrow filled every part of me. Inside, just as I expected, was the locket, Charlie's locket. I pulled it out, flicked it opened, and there it was, the photo of me. The one Charlie took when we first started dating, the one she put up in her gallery on that rainy Seattle day,

the one which, at the last second, I turned away, held up my hand and hid my face. The only known photo of Eve Palmer. the how was that as a fucking payoff? Holy shit The only known photo of E. Palmer her alter ego, whatever. And then the Morse code there is going.

So where is Abigail going? Question mark. Oh. Gosh. Where is Abigail going? Where's she going into the woods? That was truly remarkable.

First off, I feel like, do you still believe that the fucking house is like this weird is like changing things? Yeah, absolutely. You think so? Yeah.

At the end, okay. If you think it's all a delusion, then how at the end is there a locket from when the two of them started dating if Charlie's just her caretaker? I don't know. I think I maybe just read that as a thing of did she take a photo of her as a caretaker

and just give it to her? wear it on a locket. Yeah. Like Charlie wear it on a locket? I don't know if Charlie would wear it on a locket or something.

I don't know if I, I mean, it's a very unreliable narrator thing. I really don't, by the end of this, I definitely don't trust. I don't know if I can trust anybody,

but I mean, at least how I read it this first time through. I'd be curious if I read it again if there'd be a different feel, but unless we're delusioned, unless we're assuming she's delusional to the point of like full like hallucinations.

Which is what I believe. Okay. Because there's stuff like she hits him with the hammer and he's like, where are you going, Eve? Or he's like, we built these woods. We've been here for this long. We blah, blah, blah. If you think all those are hallucinations, then sure. But I think that he is something older, some puppet master that we built this house, right? Whatever these things are. And I think that people keep showing up to the house and then as soon as someone shows up to this house before they're even moved in, the family shows up, Thomas shows up. And then they all come back to his own. Remember how she's running through the basement. And like, a prison. There's a numbered doors. They're running past and stuff like that. And they keep repeating over and over. I think that's all the people who are in the psych ward and stuff like that. I read that as like that's just their, that's her perception of the psych ward that she's familiarized with. And it's like leaking into the house. I think the house is like, I don't even know if the house is

the way that it's bleeding in through each other's. The way the house is like manufacturing or changing is like taking segmented parts of your psyche or your mind and stitching them together, whether that be through memories or through like things that are happening to her in the moment or in the now. I think that the delusion award, like him being like, where are you going, whatever, I think is like the fabricated, like, she's like hoisting that onto him. Like that's like her perception of him. I think this whole thing too of even how she's talking to him or how he's talking to her

is like this delicate kind of phrasing. And I think like, um, like, uh, the, the biggest thing here I keep trying to go back to is his first conversation when page is gone. It seems like, she's like, you know, I don't like, why are you like, what are you trying to do or like, well, not like why are you talking to her? But I think it's like, I think that he knows. It seems like from, sorry, collect my thoughts. It seems like she got out of the psych ward.

He took her in and he's been living with them and she's been freaking the fucking kids out. doing whatever. Now the whole thing with her being like, is she hiding from him with the context of the story now? I'm almost wondering if the genie's just like, I'm going to hide and I'm not going to show myself in front of this girl. Where is she? Why why she keeps going? It's like, the girl is probably freak the fuck out. And he's like, oh, she's probably going to show up eventually. And that's why they're also not so worried. It's this nonchalant feeling of being like, well, she's hiding in a room because you scared the living fuck out of her. What you even see that when she's leaving, there's like that dread on her face or whatever.

I think that, again, unless you're assuming she's hallucinating, which I understand you are, I think that it has to be a supernatural or a time issue with the house because of the way physical items keep jumping or things keep moving. So for example, you have Jenny who's a bright, bubbly kid, the facade's gone, but then terrified at the end of the night, obviously after her mom dies. That same Jenny is the one that hides in the house and is depressed at the beginning of the story. But you have that happening with objects too. You have the dumb waiter, which is covered in wallpaper, then they rip it down, and then it's covered again. You have the furniture physically moving. Just like Abigail said, the rooms keep changing.

The colors are changing, the furniture's moving, stuff like that. This house seems to be a rotary door that you can move through different points in time at the same place. And they all kind of converge at this one moment. and for whatever reason, if Thomas, he said we built the house, at the very least Thomas can manipulate it. He can change time. He can bring people in and he can effectively

trap them in the spiral of it. I think your mind is in the right spot with that the house is a rotary door, but I think it's literally her mind. I just, the one thing that I don't, that's not connect to me with your theory is just the idea of like,

besides fucking with people, what does the, what would a Thomas entity have on new people moving in? Versus this thing of like, Abigail person or somebody saying like the house is changing or moving. I do think it's something where it's like things are manipulating and covering things back up. And it's like so it's also through we're going through the guys potentially, at least on the surface level of the story that is through the eyes of an unreliable narrator.

So like things are patched up. But is she seeing that correctly? I think she's unreliable because she's made to be unreliable because reality is shifting around her. What's interesting about both of our takes is these are both the correct. takes of the story because the story is very clearly supposed to say she's either being gaslit into being crazy or these are her crazy thoughts. Right. And you could take it either way. I think you could take it either way. I also think that on multiple readings, I'm also 100% curious what this. This translation. So that has gotten me fired up about this. I am 100%. We should

definitely read this and talk about it. Because also, just to just to reiterate too, when we were talking about the story, there was Morse code inside. the book that led to... Hold on real quick. Before we get to that, because I have a lot to say about that. The Reddit story we just read was 57 pages tapped out on Google. This is...

30012. So, what do you do when you take that story and make it 312 pages? Well, that's what I'm curious to even ask Marcus about is be like, because I think he's going to lean heavier into a certain direction of either what you're saying of, because I'm, I'm Because here's the other thing, too, Isaiah.

At the beginning of this, you said, you saw this thing. There's new. You saw the title page and you made you think of House of Leaves or whatever. Yeah. Hold on. That stuff. I'm about to get fired up about that. Yeah, yeah. Sorry.

Go ahead. Yeah. You're talking about a House of Leaves thing, which I think is leaning you towards more of a house of leaves response. Probably. I read this story so much in the vein of Shutter Island of Leo. And that the, and it's like a thing of a man who has been, Like, it is that, like, ultimate deep psychosis of whatever issue it is.

And at the end, it's, like, kind of that big reveal. And I kept just picturing, like, a shutter island kind of feel. Yeah. Harry, what, I mean, as a, what do you think? Which way you're leaning? Yeah, I was split going to the end. I was leaning more towards Isaiah's take on it going in. But I do agree the weird.

You're letting Thomas win. You're letting him get to. I think the tortoise painting thing, too, also felt like a full-serre. moment. The very last meeting of Thomas and them, because you can read it one way of like, there needs, if he's going to meet and also reveal himself as the trickster,

there needs to be a wing, which you could say is the locket of like, I'm the only one that also knows and owns this photo of you as the actual you and I'm gifting it back to you because we both know that fuck you. But I do agree like hunters, it's

very interesting because the way he's speaks to her at the end, to me, very genuinely reads as a brother who is grappled with. That's right, because he's good at it. There are just like, I don't know. It's a really fun way of being able to do both. I just think for me personally, the story is at its most effective. And I was like, oh, that last line of the last known photo of Eve Palmer, which Charlie says to her, is almost something where if it is a caretaker or something.

And she's, and I would assume that Abigail in the sense, or Eve, is saying like, oh, I'm Eve Palmer. And I don't see a world where the caretaker's like, no. I don't think that she's trying to like, trying to neglect her fantasy. But I do think it's like, when she took a photo, she's been very, like, hesitant to take any photos or whatever. It is like a fun thing of like, that's the only photo of Eve Palmer because that is her alter ego or whatever. And that's like, to me, I was like, oh, come everywhere. Like, I was like, that's amazing. Such a payoff.

Such a fun payoff. And on the, because again, wait, sorry, sorry, I zoned out for a second. What part did you say was such a fun payoff? For me, if it is the translation that Eve Palmer was a alter ego of hers, that the end part where she reiterates the line that Charlie said of, the only known photo of Eve Palmer is such a, that's such a banger line at the end.

Because if you think of it from, this is reality warping and she's been tricked or whatever, the Eve Palmer somewhere else, like a different dimension. She's gone. This is the only photo of Eve Palmer in this reality. The way that you take it, it is a thing of like that she's gone. Yeah. And like, yeah.

Yeah. And I, for me, and I think that this also could be a way of, and once again, such a, such an awesome. I legitimately am going to jump into it. This is going to be a fun thing of knowing the story now and then going in and being like, oh, that's a fun way of turning left and this, you know, I opened it and started looking. There's new character names.

There's segments that have Morse code throughout them. And there's also. part, oh, they did the House of Leafs thing where midway through the narrative, it stops and gives like, like a note says if someone else is reading this book and then typing amending and stuff like that. Because in House of Leaves, there's the narrative. And then the editor chimes in and is like, this book they were talking about doesn't exist. We have no idea what they mean. I think there could be a world too, Isaiah. I'm curious. Is the R slash no sleep version from the, from the perspective of a psychiatric person in a ward listing out what to stay in the confines

of that narrative where it's like i don't know what this is docket 19 interrogation and it's like a description of two characters in the story like it's but it could be a thing where then in the book version maybe it plays more into like some kind of different house of leaves eve palmer calling except decline like there's a bunch of visual stuff I don't mean to keep cutting you off. No, no, it's fine. All I know is it's it's one of those things where, and I love stories that do this, it's, uh,

it's gonna benefit from multiple readings of like how you read it each time. That's like some of my favorite parts of even watching fucking movies. You go through and you get something new out of each time. It's like, that's like, that's like the love of like the thing, the fascination with the thing is just kind of like, have a fun interpretation of it. But I mean, legitimately though, Marcus, thank you so much for these books too, man. I'm so excited.

Bro, look at this giant letter scratch. Don't forget. house you're in. Like, so, there's new character names, there's new segments and stuff. I am so excited to see what this looks like as a, as a novel length story, man. Can you get this anywhere? I know that, I know I've seen people posting on the subway right now. They picked up a copy. I saw people picking up at like Barnes & Noble.

I would assume that there's stuff if you don't have a Barnes & Noble by you that there might be like, I'm sure it's on Amazon or anywhere that you could get a book. Gosh, this is so cool. And then the Morse code thing. So, yeah. He sent us two books. So this is like his bestseller, a big deal that came out. And then I think this is his most recent one.

It's called The Caretaker, another book that also has a house on the cover and looks creepy. And then he, Mark is that the fucking perspective of Charlie? No, I open it up and it says, Macy Mullins can't say why the job posting grabbed her attention. But I'm sure it's another house, weird scenario that goes down.

It probably is because the Morse code thing led us to, he gave us these things in here. So, horse code and that translated to 258. We turned to two, we turned to page 258. And then there was a tiny piece of paper. Hold on. Let me, let me pull it out. So also, also just the, the, the non-Euclidean cardinal directions map and stuff like that. What a doll.

Yeah, right here. On 258, I turned here. And then there was a little piece of paper on the inside, which, which had a thing here that said, R slash old house archive, which Isaiah pointed out. the house is in red the same way that in house of leaves. Can you see that on the camera? In, we'll put a photo up of it.

So in House of Leaves, anytime the word house appears in the book, the word house, regardless of the context, is written in blue. So here at, on the copies he sent us, he gave us Morse code,

which led us to a page, which gives us the snippet that says R slash old house archive. So then Hunter looked it up. Our slash old house archive. is a collection of stories between himself about this like, uh, um,

I don't think it's just him. I think there's other writers involved, but there's a website called old house archive. That is a collection of stories and like patient interviews. It almost seems like the same way that like fucking lovecrafted stuff of like building a universe with other writers. We, we just found out about this during a bathroom break.

So there, we don't have everything up. But I just, it looks like, and there's a, the subreddit looks like it's active and people are adding stuff to it or like just someone posted something a few hours ago. And on the website, there's all these logs with like these like weird directional,

like I said, like cardinal direction symbols, but they're like carved off and strange and stuff. And then as Hunter pointed out in the front of the, look at the cover of the caretaker. That's so cool. In the front of, we used to live here, there's all the drawings and schematics like a house of leaves thing. Like someone's trying to chart the impossible infrastructure of the house. Yeah. Yeah, that's in the open of, we used to live here. So it looks like Marcus is either part of or founded this large universe of like a house of leaves-esque, weird, impossible structures and non-Euclidean spaces and time shifting.

Do you think there's the potential at all that in this universe, it's all from the same house? No, because, so on that website, we were just, we just scrolled through the logs and the title of one of the logs was, coat rack Tulpa, which is the thing in my basement. And I don't think this house would be the thing of my basement house. Now, I would say they all exist in the same universe. You know, you can imagine like a world where like these things continue to crop up over and over again for whatever reason. But I would say that, but I don't think it's the same house. Did it the name of that, her address?

Didn't that sound familiar though? 3719 heritage lane. The heritage lane thing. I don't know why. I'd have to go back through and see it. Unless it's just something. but I'm gas. The House of House of Leaves is Ash Tree Lane.

Well, I guess more so I was thinking about the coat rack. I just, I don't know. I don't know if they ever said the address there, but I'd be curious to see. Oh, I know, like, very, very fun. And I will say, Marcus, incredible work. I can't wait to dive into this. I'm fired up, man. That story, what, like I said, in the rafters.

This is, this is, I'm putting it, I'll definitively say, top five of the show for me. It would be one, too, that I think it's going to be. there's going to be a lot of discussion about like on rereads or like I'm curious if people I mean like because I believe that people have talked about this but have recommended this before but it's been gone and luckily like I said Marcus gave us the PDF to read the no sleep version which 100% is going to be different than the thing you can get here so I'm curious too to where even in the future once you both have read this if we just have a little segment just talking about it yeah or even discussing on like Patreon or something or something where it can be well I want to I'm actually

considering so the only time other time I've ever done this on the show was Mother Horse Eyes, which I mean, to me, that's still my favorite thing. We've found the show just because it was so, it just hit every niche interest. There was Giants and CIA and M.K. Alder and all that. But after we did Mother Horse Eyes, I went and I went through all of like the different Reddit theories around it and all the post, and I made a video on my own channel. I'm thinking because at some point I will make a House of Leaves video, but on Honestly, I want to get like people on site and do like some clever.

Because House of Leaves is such a clever book. I don't want to do it the disservice of just talking about it. I want to do some fun stuff with the edit and visuals and whatnot. Sure. So eventually I will make a video on that. But it looks like Marcus with with this and honestly also with the thing in my basement. It seems like he has begun to create an expanded universe or at least be a part of it around a spiritual successor to House of Leaves or like successors and all these stories in like the website

and the different patient logs and interviews. And there was like MP3 files on there to like listen to audio recordings of stuff. So I'm thinking I'm going to read these books and I'm going to dive the website and I'm, I'm feeling pretty heavy. I want to make a video about it. This, and this, I mean, just it's cool seeing something from an author that's still so active. I mean, like this, I looked on the back here as this 2024. Yeah. It's the copyright. I mean, like, it's just cool. I'm very curious to see what else he does next with it. It's not so cool. We talk about this a lot how like there's so many great authors, like you know, you're talking about Arkham House and Lovecraft and stuff like that. But it's so cool. It's like right now, people are still, you know,

making stories in these interconnected worlds and things like that. I mean, the more that I even think about us reading the show and stuff, a lot of it just comes from like, did a title grab you. I mean, we have, luckily we have an audience that helps us recommend stuff and everything and point us in a direction, but I can't even imagine being an author. in the history of, I mean, all of literature with just the sheer amount of volume of stuff that's still being made and stuff, it would be a fucking crazy. To be able to rise to the top like this is insane. And I'm, I just feel lucky enough that we get to like read cool shit like this.

Yeah. As mentioned before, huge, huge thank you to Marcus and Simon & Schuster. Yeah, Simon & Schuzer. Yeah. Because the original Reddit, you know, it's got the copyright stuff. They're like, no, go ahead with it. And now we've read a 57 page Reddit story that I'm fired up to read like a thousand. pages coming up about the rest of Marcus's stuff. And like I said, if you did like the story,

please consider going out and picking up the book. They were very cool and let us read this. Otherwise, we wouldn't have been able to touch it. So very, very cool. And also, it's awesome that it's always satisfying at the end of an episode when you can say, if you like that, there's an updated version that the authors also like got to fine tune and stuff, which very rarely in any kind of creative circle can you experience. I mean, like what, the Snyder cut? that's about it. The V2. So very, very cool.

Thank you so much, guys, for watching this episode. If you were listening to this on audio platforms, consider us giving us a nice rating there. And then also consider going to the Patreon for extra content to support the channel. We thank you so much, y'all. Stay creeped. Stay creeped.

And because I hope this story sparks a civil war in the comment section, all of us, Eve Truthers, are need to wage war against the the Thomas what's what's the word for someone who's like complicit evangelicals bro

the Tom truthers what is the what is the the word for someone who's complicit in something accomplice the Tom complices the evangelicals need to defeat the Tom complices over here as they perpetuate the gaslighting against our very righteous and correct Eve Palmer. Don't let Eve Palmer's name die. Say her name.

Evangelicals for the win.