Chapter 2 House Of Horror 2

He wished now that he had taken his buddies offer of a flat share in the newly built complex that was just outside of the city. Matthew had declined as the idea of bringing girls home to a shared accommodation didn't sit well with him. Matthew was a player and got bored easily. He loved the chase and the challenge of bedding a new girl. Once the thrill of each conquest was over, he would move on to the next girl. He had built up quite a reputation for himself.

So he had turned down the offer to share a plush new place, instead he had taken this flat that sat in the heart of London. It was in an old Victorian house that had been renovated and turned into individual apartments. Rumour had it that the house once belonged to a wealthy family. The father was a greedy man who was unfaithful to his wife. He started to go mad, claiming to hear voices, then committed suicide. The thought of the rumour sent a shiver down Matthew's spine. He had never believed the crazy story. Now, he wasn't sure what to believe.

When he banged on her door, Amanda opened it almost immediately, as though she had been expecting him. He stared at her, he couldn't help himself, she always had this effect on him.

She had that rare beauty which meant she didn't have to wear makeup, or doll herself up. Matthew suspected she knew it too, and used it to her advantage. She had long wavy brown hair that she almost always wore down, cascading down over her bare shoulders like silk. Her tight red tank top fitted the upper part of her body snuggly. Her skin-tight jeans complimented her slender, toned figure. She had the most striking eyes he had ever seen. Their emerald colour was mesmerizing. He often wondered if she wore contacts, but never dared ask. She was bold as brass and Matthew disliked that about such an attractive girl. It meant she had no problem calling him a user and a womanizer. He hated that. What was it to her what he did in his private life? Who was she to judge him?

He pasted a smile on his face, not wanting Amanda to slam the door on him. She had been doing that since the night he had slept with her.

"So, how are you doing tonight Amanda?" Matthew asked, trying to sound casual. Inside, he wanted to blurt out about the strange happenings in his flat. He knew if he did, she would probably laugh at him and then ask if he was on drugs, before slamming the door in his face.

She stood with her hands on her hips, her face a mask of disdain.

"What do you want?" she demanded. Matthew felt his face grow hot as he scrambled to come up with something to say. "Oh, I see. You thought if you come here with that look on your face like a scared school kid I would invite you into my bed." She laughed and began to shut the door. Matthew stuck his foot out and stopped the door from closing. "Amanda, please, that is not why I am here. I have a problem." He glanced down at the floor, not sure how to tell her what had been happening to him. She laughed, a high pitch laugh, and Matthew looked at her suddenly wondering if she was the one that had gone insane.

"So you finally caught a disease?"

Matthew wasn't sure if that was an insult or a genuine question, but either way it was not something he was going to take from her. He shoved the door open, knocking Amanda backwards as he entered her home.

Her flat was just as small as his. It had one bedroom that only just managed to fit in a double bed and a wardrobe, and a small galley kitchen that was falling apart, with little storage. The living room was tiny with hardly any floor space. In Matthew's opinion, Amanda had way too many items that just weren't needed. Somehow though, despite the clutter, she still managed to make it look neat and tidy. Now she stood, leaning against the doorframe, glaring at him.

"How dare you -"

"Look, there's something really odd in my flat. Strange noises at night. Things moving around, stuff like that. I was just wondering if the same thing is happening in yours," he said. He held his breath, waiting for her to tell him that he was imagining things. He just needed someone to confirm it. Then maybe the weird stuff would go away and he would be able to sleep.

"Isn't that just creative of you, Matt? You have even thought of a story to tell me to get me to feel sorry for you." She pushed herself away from the doorframe and stood in front of him with raw anger in her eyes. "You thought, if I felt sorry for you, I would just let you in after you have ignored me for weeks, said mean things about me to your mates, and now come knocking at my door? Oh I get it. You're not used to being refused, so you made up some story so that I feel sorry for you."

Matthew let her finish then ran a hand through his thick, dark hair.

"Amanda, it is not a story. There is something not right. Have you heard anything, anything at all?" He had to make her realise he was deadly serious. She looked at him for a long moment then she sighed.

"Whatever you say, Matt," she said, a note of resignation in her voice, "And yes, I've heard a lot of noises lately during the night too."

He felt a rush of pure relief and closed his eyes to let it pass, rubbing his face with his palms.

"Oh! Thank God! I was beginning to think I was going crazy." If Amanda had been hearing the voices and cries then maybe they could sort the problem together. But her next words blew that thought out of the water.

"I don't think the sound I heard and what you're talking about is the same thing, because the one I heard sounded like those pipes that rattle whenever the trains pass."

"What?" Matt looked at her aghast. She could have said that in the first place, rather than letting him hope that things were actually alright. What kind of bitch was she, letting him think one thing then hitting him with the truth?

"I'm not hearing pipes, Amanda," he told her, coldly. "What I heard sounds more like teenagers crying, chanting or something of that sort. Not rattling pipes."

"Oh?" She looked almost as if she cared, but she shook her head. "Sorry, Matt. I've not heard anything like that since I moved into this place."

"Are you sure it's not that you are too tired these days and all you need is to rest well?" This time he was sure there was some genuine concern in her voice.

She moved closer and ran her slender hand down his bare arm. He knew it was meant as a show of affection. Something he wasn't used to and he had no idea how to deal with it. He pulled back and crossed his arms across his chest, seeing the small flicker of hurt pass through her eyes as he did so. When he was small and his mom was on drugs, she had never really hugged him or touched him like that. The men she slept with would smile like wolves and be gone as soon as they had what they came for.