Jake
The closer I get to the house, the worse I feel.
I notice it the moment I turn onto the winding drive that marks the entrance of the property. The car’s tires slide on the muddy, rutted road, and the frame of the vehicle is so low that I swear I can feel my fillings rattle as I maneuver down the potholed path. For once in my life, I actually regret owning such a fancy ride. This wouldn’t be happening in a truck or an SUV.
Cypress branches close in overhead, blotting out the sun with feathery leaves and twisted, mottled wood. The trunks churn on either side of me, grotesque in their stature. Thick underbrush creeps into the road. For a moment, it feels like I’m all alone in this wild place.
Dread mounts in my gut as I navigate the familiar turns of the drive. I have a terrible thought that the path will go on forever, that each twist in the road will simply guide me farther away from civilization.
But then the trees part, and the mud shifts to patchy gravel that crunches satisfyingly under my tires as I pull into the open expanse of the driveway, and I’m flooded with inexplicable relief.
I’ve made it.
As I glance up at the house, the one that was supposed to be our dream home, part of me wishes that I hadn’t made it at all.
The building seems alive somehow. The windows, which had formerly shimmered blindly beneath the sun, now make me think of the glistening eyes of an arachnid, waiting with bated breath for an unwitting fool to step into its web. Ivy creeps up the sides of the previously spotless façade. There are patches of grime mottled across the siding, giving the house a moldy appearance.
How the hell has this place declined so fast? I’ve only been gone a week. But now, it looks like years have passed since I left. As much as I hate to admit it, it really does look like a haunted house.
“Fuck this,” I mutter, shaking my head and turning the key in the ignition to kill the engine.
I’m barely out of the car before the front door swings open to reveal Julia. She looks perfect, as usual. Her auburn hair tumbles artfully over her shoulders. She’s wearing a green dress that probably costs about as much as the sports car I’ve just exited. And, of course, she’s got those ridiculous heels on, as if anybody would see her sporting them in this godforsaken place.
The ghost of an expression slides across her elegant features. It’s not excitement, exactly. More like relief.
But from what?
“Hey, honey,” I call as I drag my duffel bag and briefcase out of the passenger seat. “Miss me?”
“Of course,” she replies dutifully. She leans in for a kiss, and I quickly grace her lips with a light peck. The memory of the blonde’s plush mouth lingers in my mind as I pull away from my wife, guilt leaching into my veins.
I hate that I feel bad for my extracurricular activities. I shouldn’t. I’m a man with needs, after all. And while Julia may turn heads at corporate parties and can charm the pants off of any C-suite occupant, sometimes I crave something a little warmer, more approachable. It’s only natural.
“How was your trip?” Julia inquires as she takes the briefcase from my hand.
“Good,” I assure her. “I’ve got the investors right where I want them. They’ll all be signed on by the end of the week.”
She shoots me a thin smile. “That’s great news.” I can practically hear the gears turning in her head, planning her next shopping trip using my hard earned money. I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
Instead, I say, “God, it’s hot as hell here. I’m already sweating.” Perspiration beads on my forehead and between my shoulder blades. The stench of the swamp permeates the humidity, clinging to my skin, hair, and clothes like poison. A strange electricity shudders, unseen, through the air, and I wonder if a thunderstorm is brewing.
“Go and take a shower,” Julia urges as she ushers me through the front door and into the blissfully regulated temperatures of the air conditioned house. “I’ll make dinner.”
I know my wife means that loosely. I don’t think she’s ever properly cooked a day in her life. Instead, she’s always ordered these meals where the ingredients come portioned out, and all she has to do is follow the directions. Honestly, I don’t know why she even bothers. It’s not like she does anything all day. Would it kill her to spend some time learning how to actually roast a chicken or fry an egg?
My sour mood only deepens as I shower. I can’t seem to get the putrid smell of the marsh off me, no matter how hard I scrub. And I can’t relax either, even with the state-of-the-art water jet showerhead pounding down on my back. The skin on my neck is constantly prickling, as though somebody is watching me from the doorway of the bathroom. But every time I turn, there’s nobody there.
God, I hate this fucking place.
When I finally sit down across from Julia at the vast dining room table, the only thing I want to do is eat in silence. Of course, she can’t even do that one thing for me.
“I’m glad you’re home,” she starts as she spears a chunk of potato with her fork. “So many weird things have been happening, and it’s been freaking me out.” I don’t want to hear it, but she continues anyway, “The doorbell rang on its own, and I heard what sounded like kids running around upstairs.”
“Kids?” I scoff. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Seriously,” she insists. “It started after they pulled up those coffins. I didn’t realize how many children were buried out in the swamp. Just thinking about it gives me the creeps.”
It makes my skin crawl too, but I’m not about to admit it and feed into her constant wailings about the house. “You and your active imagination,” I dismiss. “You saw the coffins, and your brain just filled in the blanks. Honestly, Julia, you fit right in out here with all of the other superstitious freaks.”
Her delicate features crease into a hurt frown. “I know what I heard,” she snaps before falling silent.
The rest of dinner is blissfully quiet. She doesn’t say a word to me as she clears the table. Once that’s done, she sweeps past me, heading out into the hallway towards the stairs.
“Where are you going?” I call after her, trailing in her wake.
“Bed,” she says in a clipped tone before disappearing up the stairs. I go to follow her but only make it halfway down the hallway before I realize that it’s way darker than it should be. Peering up towards the ceiling, I notice that the bulb right inside the front door is dead, swathing the bottom of the steps in gloomy shadow.
Changing a bulb out is the last thing I feel like doing right now, but I know that if I ignore it, Julia will just nag me mercilessly about it later. Huffing, I trudge to the kitchen and, after digging through several cabinets, I find a box of light bulbs stuffed way in the back of one. I haul a stool away from the island on my way back out. Otherwise I’d have to pick my way through the darkness to the garage and back to get the stepladder. I’d take my wife’s wrath over that any day.
The process, though annoying, is quick and easy. Within minutes, I’ve finished my task and returned the stool to the kitchen. From there, I make my way upstairs to find Julia.
When I step into the master bedroom, I’m reminded of exactly why I married her in the first place.
She’s in the process of changing into her nightgown. The green dress she’d been wearing lay discarded over the back of the vanity chair. My blood rushes south as I realize that she hadn’t been wearing a bra underneath that expensive item of clothing. Now she’s left in only an emerald green thong, those heels, and nothing else.
I move quickly, encircling her from behind with my arms as I nuzzle my nose into her perfect hair. Her lithe body tenses against mine. “I’m not in the mood,” she sighs.
“Baby, I’m sorry,” I cajole. How many times have we gone through this song and dance? “I shouldn’t have been so mean to you. I’m sorry.”
Julia doesn’t say anything, but her muscles soften in my grasp as she melts at the apology. I take a risk and lift her hair away from her neck before kissing the soft skin there, and the little sigh she releases tells me I’ve won this battle.
She turns in my arms and presses her lips to mind, coaxing a proper kiss out of me. I’m very aware of her bare breasts pressing against my chest, and I don’t bother to fight the urge to bring one hand up to caress the soft peak of her nipple.
A moan rolls from her lips, I decide I really can’t wait any longer. I break away from her long enough to pull my shirt over my head and step out of my jeans before I push her back toward the bed.
She’s gorgeous, splayed there on the duvet with only a thin strip of green fabric covering her cunt. Without pausing, I kick off my boxers, freeing my cock. Julia eyes it hungrily, pupils blown.
“Did you miss me?” I demand as I lower myself down so that I’m covering her slim form.
She bites her lip and nods.
That’s all I need to hear.
I skim one hand down to the junction of her thighs, pushing the thong to one side to allow my fingers to brush her slick heat. I slide one digit inside as she gasps beneath me. God, she’s so wet. Has she been sitting here the whole time I was gone, just waiting for me to come home and fuck her?
Well, I’ve never been one to keep a lady waiting.
I line my cock up with her entrance, hissing at the feel of her against my sensitive skin as I sink into her, inch by inch. Just when I’m fully sheathed inside of her, I pull out, leaving her whimpering for more. She doesn’t have time to beg for me to fuck her before I thrust back in.
My hips move with measured strokes as her inner walls massage my cock. Soft, breathy noises spill from Julia’s lips as she writhes beneath me. It doesn’t take long for my pleasure to crest.
“Fuck,” I groan as I thrust hard into her one last time. The release shudders through me as I spill myself into her pussy.
Panting, I roll off of her and collapse onto the mattress beside her. We lie there silently for a moment before I ask, “Was that good for you, baby?”
Julia fixes me with an unreadable stare. Her pupils are blown from lust, and her chest is heaving. “Yeah,” she says after a moment before getting up and moving toward the bathroom.
Later, when she’s back in bed, and I’m certain she’s asleep, I watch her. My mind wanders back to the first night we spent in the house. That was the best sex we’d ever had. I don’t know what came over us. It was like there was an animal inside of me, clawing at me to release it, and Julia met that energy deliciously. Where was that dynamic now?
The thought leaves me feeling strangely inadequate. There’s no way I’m going to sleep now with my mind racing.
I get up and pull on my boxers before padding over to the window. I squint out into the swirling darkness, surveying the swamp. It looks far more sinister a night, I decide. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust enough to pick out the individual tree trunks rising out of the mire. Finally, my gaze fixes on the raised mound of the cemetery. I can just make out the eldritch edges of the tombstones there, as well as the bare patch of ground where several of the graves have already been removed.
I can’t wait until that monstrosity is gone and the marsh is drained for good. I’ve already got plans for a tennis court and a pool once the job is done.
I’m about to turn away from the window when I notice a flash of something darting between the decrepit headstones. I press my face closer to the window, straining to make sense of what I’m seeing.
There’s a man in the swamp.
Not just any man, I realize. Isn’t that the builder, the guy who went crazy and disappeared? His name was Tyler or something.
But he looks wrong, somehow. I can’t put my finger on it, exactly, but there’s something about the way he’s moving that isn’t natural. It’s like watching a four legged animal run on its hind legs.
“What the fuck?” I mutter.
As if he heard me, the man freezes and raises his head. I can’t explain how, but I swear that his eyes are fixed on mine. Every nerve in my body screams out in warning, and my stomach churns in sudden terror.
I’ve never been one to run toward danger, and I’m not about to start now. There’s no way in hell I’m going out there to check it out. Instead, I raise a shaking hand and pull the blinds closed. Then I dart out of the room and down the stairs to check that the front door is locked.
When I’m satisfied the house is secure, I lean back against the door and sigh in relief. Now that I think about it, what would that guy possibly be doing in the swamp so late at night? It’s so dark out, my eyes probably played tricks on me. Isn’t that what I keep telling Julia?
“There’s nothing out there,” I whisper. Even so, I reach for the light switch and turn it on. I don’t want to stand in the shadows any longer.
Light spills from the bulb, and I sigh again. But seconds later, the light flickers, and then the bulb breaks with a sharp crack.
I’m plunged into darkness.
“There’s nothing out there,” I mutter again.
But now, I’m not so sure.