crumbling.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Back with my sense of humour.”
“Well, I’m going inside.” She walked toward the door.
Jane sighed and traipsed along behind her, kicking her heels like a petulant child.
The door creaked as Chase pushed it open and stepped inside. Broken glass crunched underfoot like the dry carapaces of long dead insects. Flowery wallpaper peeled from the walls, the design faded like an old tattoo. The smell of decay filled the air, wet and fungal.
Remnants of furniture littered the room; the skeletal frame of an armchair, a smashed bureau, and a cabinet overturned like a coffin, the hinged door of which stood open inviting morbid inspection. Chase approached, her action more to show Jane that she would be all right on her own, but it didn’t stop her feeling apprehensive about looking inside. She knew it was stupid. After all, it was only a cabinet. She gripped the edge and leaned over.
Something stirred in the shadows.
Chase jumped, her heart fluttering.
In a flurry of motion, a white, ghostly spectre flew screeching toward her face. A beady black eye glinted as a razor sharp blade made to cut her. Chase stumbled back, tripping over her own feet. She fell to the ground, shielding her face as the spectre swooped.
Chase screamed and closed her eyes, her heart dancing a fandango.
“Shoo, get away,” Jane said.
Puzzled, Chase couldn’t understand why Jane wasn’t screaming too, and she cautiously dropped her hands from her face and opened her eyes in time to see the pigeon fly out of the window.
“Stupid bird,” Jane muttered. “And I’m not on about the feathered one. Didn’t you know that it was only a bird?” She looked at Chase and shook her head. “What are you like?” Reaching down she helped Chase to her feet.
Chase blushed. Her fertile imagination had cultivated the seeds of illusion.
Dusting herself down, she shrugged. “It could have happened to anyone.”
“Only someone stupid enough to want to come into a derelict building.”
Ignoring her, Chase said, “Come on, let’s see what’s in the next room.”
“Don’t you ever learn?”
Chase grinned and wrinkled her nose. In the next room she spotted two doors, one at the far end and one on her right which led to the stairs, which were blocked by debris from when the roof had collapsed, but it was the makeshift bed in the corner of the room that grabbed her attention. Next to it stood a small camp stove and some jars of food.
“Jane, look at this.”
Jane walked into the room. “What is it now, another rat?”
“I think someone’s living here. Look.”
“Well, I’ve seen people live in worse places.”
“But you don’t expect it, you know, not out here, in the country.”
“Well, let’s just go before they come back.”
“I wonder who it is.”
“Who cares, come on sugar, let’s go.”
A door creaked at the rear of the house. Someone coughed, a deep phlegmy sound.
Chase froze.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Jane whispered. “Now.” She tugged at Chase’s arm.
Chase backed out of the room, trying to be as quiet as she could, but she was sure her heart was beating loud enough to be heard.
For once, even Jane looked worried.
They exited the house the way they entered and ran along the lane. Chase glanced over her shoulder, relieved when she didn’t see anyone in pursuit; not that she really expected to see anyone. They hadn’t done anything wrong so why would anyone come after them? She was being foolish and she slowed to a walk. Jane stopped altogether and leaned over with her hands on her waist as if she was going to be sick. Chase wiped sweat from her brow, took deep breaths and sat beneath the shade of an oak tree at the side of the lane. She couldn’t remember the last time she had run so fast.
“Who do you think was living in that derelict building?” Chase asked between breaths.
“Who cares? But if they want to live there,
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Back with my sense of humour.”
“Well, I’m going inside.” She walked toward the door.
Jane sighed and traipsed along behind her, kicking her heels like a petulant child.
The door creaked as Chase pushed it open and stepped inside. Broken glass crunched underfoot like the dry carapaces of long dead insects. Flowery wallpaper peeled from the walls, the design faded like an old tattoo. The smell of decay filled the air, wet and fungal.
Remnants of furniture littered the room; the skeletal frame of an armchair, a smashed bureau, and a cabinet overturned like a coffin, the hinged door of which stood open inviting morbid inspection. Chase approached, her action more to show Jane that she would be all right on her own, but it didn’t stop her feeling apprehensive about looking inside. She knew it was stupid. After all, it was only a cabinet. She gripped the edge and leaned over.
Something stirred in the shadows.
Chase jumped, her heart fluttering.
In a flurry of motion, a white, ghostly spectre flew screeching toward her face. A beady black eye glinted as a razor sharp blade made to cut her. Chase stumbled back, tripping over her own feet. She fell to the ground, shielding her face as the spectre swooped.
Chase screamed and closed her eyes, her heart dancing a fandango.
“Shoo, get away,” Jane said.
Puzzled, Chase couldn’t understand why Jane wasn’t screaming too, and she cautiously dropped her hands from her face and opened her eyes in time to see the pigeon fly out of the window.
“Stupid bird,” Jane muttered. “And I’m not on about the feathered one. Didn’t you know that it was only a bird?” She looked at Chase and shook her head. “What are you like?” Reaching down she helped Chase to her feet.
Chase blushed. Her fertile imagination had cultivated the seeds of illusion.
Dusting herself down, she shrugged. “It could have happened to anyone.”
“Only someone stupid enough to want to come into a derelict building.”
Ignoring her, Chase said, “Come on, let’s see what’s in the next room.”
“Don’t you ever learn?”
Chase grinned and wrinkled her nose. In the next room she spotted two doors, one at the far end and one on her right which led to the stairs, which were blocked by debris from when the roof had collapsed, but it was the makeshift bed in the corner of the room that grabbed her attention. Next to it stood a small camp stove and some jars of food.
“Jane, look at this.”
Jane walked into the room. “What is it now, another rat?”
“I think someone’s living here. Look.”
“Well, I’ve seen people live in worse places.”
“But you don’t expect it, you know, not out here, in the country.”
“Well, let’s just go before they come back.”
“I wonder who it is.”
“Who cares, come on sugar, let’s go.”
A door creaked at the rear of the house. Someone coughed, a deep phlegmy sound.
Chase froze.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Jane whispered. “Now.” She tugged at Chase’s arm.
Chase backed out of the room, trying to be as quiet as she could, but she was sure her heart was beating loud enough to be heard.
For once, even Jane looked worried.
They exited the house the way they entered and ran along the lane. Chase glanced over her shoulder, relieved when she didn’t see anyone in pursuit; not that she really expected to see anyone. They hadn’t done anything wrong so why would anyone come after them? She was being foolish and she slowed to a walk. Jane stopped altogether and leaned over with her hands on her waist as if she was going to be sick. Chase wiped sweat from her brow, took deep breaths and sat beneath the shade of an oak tree at the side of the lane. She couldn’t remember the last time she had run so fast.
“Who do you think was living in that derelict building?” Chase asked between breaths.
“Who cares? But if they want to live there,
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