Chapter 41 Haunted house
VICTORIA
“Wait, what?" I gasped in shock.
The woman took a step back and nodded at the house.
“I told you that house was haunted, didn't I? That woman died after being watched five times," she muttered.
I gripped my arm and rubbed it, shivering at her words.
“I wanted to help her, but she didn't believe me. Poor family, they were so lovely and enviable, they barely fought and always had a smile on their face. That night… was a horrible night,” she whispered.
My eyes slammed shut, and I took in a deep breath, trying to stop my heart from racing.
“Would you like to come in for tea?” She asked.
My eyes pulled open, and I stared blankly at her, torn between fear and duty.
“I can't–"
"I'll tell you everything you need to know, and also how to prevent the tragedy from knocking on your door,” she said.
I gulped hard and nodded, “Okay."
"Come on,” she waved her hand as she turned towards her apartment. I hesitantly shuffled after her, hoping whatever she would tell me would help me in my investigation.
Who could have killed those people? Was it the serial killer? Were they part of the victims?
If it were the killer, then the apartment would have been under restriction, and I was sure this house was quite vacant for some years before the serial killer began terrorizing the city.
“Come inside," the woman said as she trotted in and left the door wide open.
“Have a seat, I'll quickly make tea," the woman waved her hand towards the peach couches sitting in a round order in the middle of the living room.
I closed the door and shuffled to the couch, then slumped in.
I looked around the living room, taking in the eyebrow-raising art that hung on the wall.
The large TV was turned off, and the wheezing sound of boiling water from the kitchen filled the room.
At a corner beside the bookshelf were some pictures of children. A peculiar photo caught my eye and got me walking towards the corner where they were kept.
I took out the photo from the place where they seemed to be hidden, then stared at the faces.
There was a young, beautiful woman with crystal clear eyes that pierced into my soul, along with two children who surrounded her, and a man with glasses who stood behind her.
The woman looked extremely beautiful with her lustrous black hair and prominent cheekbones. She reminded me so much of my mother with that smile.
I ran my hand over the face, smiling without realizing.
“I didn't waste–"
The old woman's voice came up, and I jumped, almost throwing away the photo in my hand.
Her jaw dropped as she stared at me. The little tray in her hand had a cup of tea and biscuits in it.
“What are you doing there!" She snapped in annoyance and quickly dropped the tray on the table.
“I'm sorry, I was looking at it, I didn't mean to invade your privacy–"
She hissed and snatched the picture from my hand, then dropped it on the counter, turning it over.
She sighed and turned around to face me, anger bouncing in her eyes.
“Don't go around touching people's things like that!" She snapped.
"My apologies,” I muttered, clasping my hands together.
“Whatever!" She grumbled as she waved her head in the air and walked to the couch.
I wanted to ask her if the woman in the picture was her, but refrained to avoid getting into another argument with her.
I followed her quietly and sat down across from her, ready to hear whatever she wanted to say.
“The neighbors…” she paused and sighed.
I felt closer to the woman as she sat there. Behind that mask of rudeness and arrogance, she seemed to hide a softness that no one sees.
“She was very kind. Always helped me out and stayed with me. I never felt lonely when she was still alive. Her husband was just as kind as she was, loving as well. The children were like my grandchildren and…” she paused and took in a deep breath before darting her eyes towards the tray before me.
“Have something," she nodded at the tray.
"Yes,” I nodded and reached for the cup.
I took a sip of it and twitched my lips in delight.
“You said you didn't have sugar," I muttered when I looked up.
"Well…” she narrowed her eyes and looked away.
She swerved her head back in my direction, anger bouncing in her eyes.
“Does that matter? Is that how you say thank you?" She spat.
I smiled and put down the cup.
“You didn't say that when I helped you a week ago," I muttered.
She scoffed loudly and rolled her eyes.
“The tea is nice, I'll come over for more," I muttered.
She blushed lightly at my compliment but covered it up with a scoff.
After a moment of silence between us, she continued.
“I wasn't home the night they died. I went off to attend my friend's funeral, and when I returned, I was informed she was dead, and questioned. I told them all I know…” She paused again and muttered inaudible words with a breaking voice.
“I'm sorry that you had to lose them," I muttered.
I got up and moved to the seat next to her, then drew closer and squeezed her shoulder.
“You won't be alone now, you have me," I blurted out before I could think twice.
I almost cursed myself for letting the grief take control of my tongue.
She lifted her head and sighed loudly before wiping the tears off her face.
“I doubt if you'll stay that long with me anyway,” she muttered, and my heart tightened.
“Why do you think so?" I asked.
She wiped a tear again and looked at me.
“Because you will be the next to die," she said.
My belly knotted in horror, and I gripped the arm of the couch, her words echoing in my head.
“I do know of someone who will help you,” She muttered.
My eyes dimmed, and my head shot back in confusion.
“Who?" I asked.
"A seer at the hillside. He will tell you the things you need to know and who that person is,” she muttered.
My throat knotted, and I pulled away from her, my head tilting to the side as I thought over her words.
I didn't believe in seers or prophecy, but what if I gave it a try?
I sighed and turned to face her while gripping the cup of tea again.
“Fine, I will go with you to see the seer today," I blurted out.