Chapter 4 House Of Horror 4

He noticed a strange light casting its shadows at the kitchen entrance as he walked back into the living room. His bedroom light was not bright enough to cast a beam as strong as that. He had energy efficient light bulbs. They were in the flat when he had moved in and had never bothered to change them. Stealthily he stepped further into the room as though he was expecting something to spring up once he made his way into the center of the living room. Matthew caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that hung above the electric fire that didn't give out much heat at all.

His black hair was tousled and his skin looked pale in the dim light. A reflection of a shadow moved behind him and he spun around. There was nothing there, just the light shining from his bedroom. The strange glow in the kitchen had gone. His heart was beating faster than normal, and he could feel fear sparking inside his mind.

He thought he saw something move out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to check, there was nothing there. He took a small step and felt something ice cold glide up his inner leg. He wanted to scream, but the sound never reached his throat.

The feeling disappeared, leaving a burning sensation in its place. He went to take another step when he heard whispering in his ear. He couldn't make out what was said, but it made him freeze again. The faintest warmth brushed his neck, as if someone was breathing on him, but when he turned his head, he could see nothing.

As he made his way towards his bedroom he began to hear the other voices, sounding as if they were traveling through the walls.

They were different from the ones screaming and crying. They had a tender and gentle note, as if wanting to ease the panic that their presence would cause. Matthew could not make out what they were saying, but he heard Taylor shriek and start begging to be spared. Whatever it was, it was in the bedroom with her. He could try to be a hero and go into the room fighting to get her out, or he could be smart and make his own way out of the Godforsaken flat immediately.

He didn't need to even think about it. There was no way he was going to jeopardize his own survival for a girl that he met just a few hours ago. He snatched up his shirt from the love seat where he had dropped it when he had got home, pulled his legs into his jeans which he had left on his living room floor the previous morning. He slid his feet into his slip-on slippers and made for the door, and stopped in his tracks. A prickly feeling at the base of his neck made him freeze, the kind of feeling you get when you're being watched. He listened for the voices or the sound of Taylor's voice, but he heard nothing. Nothing at all. Silence. There was no sound from the outside world, no horns beeping or the constant yells and laughter from people passing by. It was like he was frozen in time.

The room filled up with an ear-splitting scream, so piercing, that he dropped to the floor, and pulled himself into the fetal position. Hands clamped over his ears, as he tried to block out the sound. It was no use. The sound echoed inside his mind.

The temperature dropped suddenly, and the little warmth he had quickly deserted him. An awareness came over him that he was no longer in contact with the ground. He was floating and spinning a few feet above the floor. Dizziness rushed to his head making him feel sick and light-headed. He couldn't take anymore. Suddenly he stopped. Still, he couldn't feel the ground.

Matthew opened his eyes slowly. He could see nothing but darkness. Then, a pair of red eyes flashed in his vision and he dropped to the floor with a thud. Pain vibrated through his body, but he wasted no time and scrambled to his feet, desperate to reach for the door. He tripped over something and crashed to the floor. Pain seared in his knees, but he ignored it and staggered up. The floor was cluttered with debris, and the walls cracked with holes in them from years of neglect and they were covered in mould. He concentrated on getting out and yanked the door open.

The pleading voice of Taylor echoed through the flat as he jammed the door shut behind him. He felt bad leaving her there, but he was looking out for himself. He always had. Where he grew up it was what you had to do if you wanted to keep out of trouble and keep your skin whole.

But the tone of Taylor's voice played in his mind. She was terrified, there was no doubt about that. She sounded close to tears and desperate. He didn't know what to do. He could call the cops, but why would they believe him? Like the man who beat up his mom and left her half-dead had said, they would think he was just another paranoid junkie.

He ran towards Amanda's flat, expecting her to be awake, but the usual noises she made at night were absent. He paused at her door, wondering if he should knock or not. She could be asleep already and it wouldn't be fair on her if he disturbed her the one time she finally got to sleep early. That small, considerate thought vanished. His situation was more important than Amanda's beauty sleep.

He could leave for one of his friend's houses, but then he would have to go back into his flat to get his car keys and he was not about to take that risk. He was in no mood to be a hero. He just wanted to be alive when the sun rose in the morning. The thought of the young girl he had left with the strange presence played heavy on his conscious.