Bailey
I need to get Tanner away from that house.
Bitter certainty floods my veins as I walk toward my car. Every nerve in my body screams at me that I’m making the wrong choice. But I can’t just leave him there, not after what Layla’s told me. I can’t.
Making up my mind, I slide into the driver’s seat. Adrenaline surges through me as I turn the key in the ignition, urging the engine to life. I try not to think too much about where I’m going and why. Instead, I focus on the muscle memory of backing out of the driveway and navigating the familiar streets of Hahnville.
Night’s grip has tightened on the evening by the time I reach the turnoff to the old Gregory place. As I steer carefully down the rutted drive, my headlights play off the gnarled trunks of the cypress trees and the twisted mass of foliage at their roots. It feels like there are a thousand pairs of eyes on me, watching my descent into this unholy place.
My hands tighten on the wheel. I keep my gaze focused straight ahead at the muddy, potholed road. Whatever is out here tonight, I don’t want to see it.
It’s almost a relief when I come around the bend and finally catch sight of the house. It’s my first time seeing it up close, and I have to admit that Tanner’s descriptions of the structure haven’t done it any justice.
The building is a masterpiece of stone, wood, and glass. While it’s certainly not my style, I can still appreciate the craftsmanship that’s gone into the construction. It looks like something out of a magazine, bone white and picture-perfect.
Tanner’s comments about the house float to the forefront of my mind. He said something about how it looks great now, but in a few years, the swamp will overtake this place too.
I can imagine it. Soon there will be moss and ivy creeping up those sterile white walls. Mold and debris will overtake the perfect roof. Humidity will cloud the windows, and the stench of the swamp will infect the air. The ground, always soft from the constant moisture, will give out, and the foundation will crumble, and the house will sag and droop until it finally falls into the mire, just like everything else that has ever tried to live here.
This is not a place that was meant for people.
It never was.
For a moment, as I stare up at the imposing new house, I see it as it will be ten years down the line, rotting from the inside out. Then I blink, and the image is gone, and the building is gleaming and new again.
A shiver passes through me as my eyes are drawn down toward the front of the house. My heartbeat stutters as I recognize the truck that’s parked outside the front door.
It’s Tanner’s.
He’s here somewhere, but where? His vehicle appears empty. Beyond, the windows of the house are dark and vacant. There’s no movement, no sign of life.
“Tanner is alive,” I assure myself in a fervent whisper. “He’s here. He has to be here.”
I park my car behind Tanner’s truck. I cut the engine and then hesitate for a moment before I decide to leave the keys in the ignition in case we need to make a quick getaway. With no signal out here at the moment, I decide to leave my phone in the car too. It’s not like I can call for help even if I need to.
After a few anxious seconds, I gather my courage and push the car door open, breaking the last barrier between the swamp and me.
The first thing I notice as I step out onto the driveway is the silence. Normally, the night is alive with the drone of insects and the bustle of small nocturnal animals through the undergrowth. But tonight, there’s no noise. It’s like the entire world is holding its breath, waiting.
Or hiding.
The putrid smell of the swamp thickens as the heavy summer air swirls around me. Sweat beads on my forehead and my back. Each breath I take feels fuzzy and hot, like I’m taking in water with every lungful.
My footsteps crunch loudly as I pick my way over to Tanner’s truck. As I guessed, the vehicle is unoccupied. Everything inside looks normal, undisturbed. I don’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad one.
Finding nothing there, I continue on to the front door of the house. It’s closed, and I’m suddenly concerned that it might be locked. Do construction crews usually secure their job sites? I’m not entirely sure, but I assume they would, especially when the place is almost completely done.
I’m not sure if I’m relieved or worried to find that the door is unlocked. The metal doorknob, eerily warm from the stale night air, turns easily beneath my palm, and the door swings open smoothly without so much as a creak.
Darkness stretches before me, opening up into the vast unknown space of the rest of the house. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I sense eyes boring into me. I’m not alone here.
“Hello?” I call? My voice quivers away into the shadows until it’s swallowed up completely. “Tanner?”
There’s no answer.
I take a single step inside the door. With one hand, I grope around on the wall until my fingers trace over a light switch.
“Thank God,” I breathe, flipping it on.
Nothing happens.
I try the switch again and then a third time, the clicks echoing hollowly into the dark. But still, the light doesn’t turn on.
“Fuck,” I mutter. I suddenly regret the decision to leave my phone in the car. I could really use the flashlight now. Maybe I should go get it?
But then a noise in the distance has me freeze on the threshold. Was it a sigh or a rustle of fabric? I’m not sure.
“Tanner?” I call again, taking another tentative step into the darkness.
I’m blind in here. The shadows swallow me up quickly, and I have to use a hand on the wall to navigate. I inch through the space slowly and carefully. The only respite I get is when I pass an open doorway and some moonlight from outside filters in through the windows. It feels like an eternity before I reach the back of the house and step into the kitchen.
Weak light tumbles in through the uncovered windows, illuminating a large space filled with gleaming new appliances and heavy marble countertops. But what really draws my attention is the figure standing a few feet away from the doorway.
“Tanner,” I sigh in relief.
He’s got his back to me so he’s facing the wall. There’s a large gap there in the sheetrock in the hallway right outside the kitchen, and I wonder if that’s what he’s stayed so late to fix. But if he was working, why was he here in the dark? Maybe a fuse blew?
Tanner doesn’t move. There’s no indication he’s even heard me. Fear curls across my nerves as I creep toward him, my hand outstretched. When I’m only about a foot away, I rest my fingertips gingerly on his shoulder.
“Tanner?” I murmur.
He turns slowly, and my dread only deepens when I catch sight of his face. His expression is slack and vacant at first but then snaps to life when he sees me. I have a terrible feeling that he’s been like this for hours, just biding his time until I arrived.
“Bailey,” he coos in a saccharine tone that sets my hair on end. “I’m so glad you’re finally here. I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.”
He takes a step toward me, closing the distance between us. I stumble back.
“It’s time to go, Tanner,” I say, even though I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m no longer speaking to him.
“Go?” He cocks his head. “I don’t think so, baby. In fact, I don’t think we’re ever going to leave.”
Before I can act, his hands dart out and grab me to bring me in for a crushing kiss. I flail against him, trying to push off against his chest and arms, but his grip is like iron.
His mouth trails a bruising path to my ear where he growls, “Oh, Bailey, the things I’ll do to you tonight. You’ll never forget them, not even in death.”
“Get off me!” I shriek, hammering against him. To my horror, I hear the sound of a zipper, and I instantly know what he’s got in store for me.
I won’t let that happen.
I jerk my knee up as hard and fast as I can directly between Tanner’s legs.
A wail of pain erupts from his throat as he pushes me away from him. I don’t stay to watch as he clutches at his groin, doubled over in agony. Instead, I dart out into the hallway toward the front door.
It doesn’t take long for Tanner to right himself. He’s like an animal as he surges behind me. I’ve got a head start, but he’s faster than I am. Blood rushes in my ears as I push myself harder.
I’m almost to the front door.
I’m almost free.
But just as I reach the threshold, Tanner’s fingers tangle in my hair. For a moment, I think he’s going to pull me back, but instead, he jerks me forward.
My forehead smacks into the doorframe with a sickening thump. My skull erupts in pain, and I cry out sharply. Hot blood trickles down my skin. The world swims in front of my eyes, and then I’m drowning in the darkness.
Things undulate in and out of focus. One moment, Tanner’s dragging me down the hallway by one arm, wrenching my shoulder in its socket. The next, I feel like I’m weightless.
I blink heavily, forcing my eyes open. My head throbs with pain. I’m upright, I think, my back leaning against a rough, unfinished wall. Where am I? Where has he taken me?
Tanner’s face looms into view.
But it’s not Tanner, not anymore.
“Amos,” I choke out.
The thing controlling Tanner’s body grins. “The one and only,” it agrees. “Dalton’s form was getting a little tired, wasn’t it? I wanted something a little… fresher.”
It leans down out of view, and when it straightens up, I realize with growing horror that it’s holding a section of drywall.
I whip my head around, wincing at the sudden movement as I desperately take in my surroundings. I’m looking at the hallway by the kitchen, but I’m not at the right angle. I think about where Tanner was earlier, and the hole in the wall.
The pieces click together.
I’m not in the hallway at all.
I’m inside the wall.
And Amos is going to seal me in.