“Why are you hyperventilating? Why is he hyperventilating?” Shary turned an accusing glare on Bill, her little brother Chris’s best friend.
“Whoa Nelly,” Bill held both hands up in surrender, “I just got here myself sis.”
“Likely story,” Shary kept on grumbling to herself and Bill ignored her happily, the two had developed this routine over two decades of begrudging friendship and neither paid much attention any more.
“Don’t look,” Chris suddenly gasped as he reached out to clutch the sweater clad arm of his older sister. “I should have never looked!”
“Looked where, Bolt?” Bill, the ‘nut’ to Chris’s ‘bolt’ held tightly to his friend’s hand and glancing around nervously. “Did you see something bad buddy? Should we call for help.”
“There is no help,” Chris rasped out, beginning to gasp and groan for air once more. “Nothing can be unseen. Don’t look! DON’T LOOK! Promise me Shar.”
“I can’t promise until I know where you looked,” Shary pointed out a little testily.
“The house,” Chris pointed shakily, though no one had needed to ask which house he meant. THE HOUSE had been abandoned since they were kids, the last people to live there having been Bill’s great aunt Gertrude and her caretaker. But the boys and Shary had played and explored there throughout the years, even spending a recent rain soaked afternoon tightly embroiled in one of the many storage rooms as they searched through old storage chests and giggled at Gertrude’s eccentric collections.
“What could you have possibly seen in there?” Shary scoffed, “We’ve been through that place a dozen times this year alone.”
“Can’t tell. Don’t look through the key hole!” Chris’s eyes rolled back into his head as he collapsed, ashen faced, to the damp grass of his sister’s freshly mown lawn.
Glancing between his fallen body and the decrepit, abandoned old mansion down the street, Shary and Bill reverted to their childhood selves almost immediately.
“Race you!” No telling which one said it as they both took off down the street…no telling who got there first or what, exactly, drove them both to the left side of that faded mauve exterior. There’s not even any way to tell who, or what, they may have seen through that old fashioned key hole in the door no one had ever noticed before. No way because, you see, no one has heard them speak since that moment.
Wait, I take that back, Shary is saying something now…