Hey everyone, sorry it’s been so long between posts. I had to handle something that I’ll tell you all about later on. The situation is growing worse and I can attribute it all to this instance at my grandmother’s library. Stay on the lookout guys.
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It took awhile to convince my mom to drive me to her parent’s house. She hadn’t visited them herself in years and Grandpa stopped coming to family gatherings after Grandma died. She said the last time she saw him something was off. When you looked at his eyes they were…empty.
Everyone attributed it to him grieving over his wife, and I had always just accepted that was the case. Maybe he knew the truth behind the fate of my Grandma. They said it was Alzheimer’s that caused her death. Claimed she had it for a very long time and she slowly deteriorated over years. Back then I didn’t bat an eye. “Old people die” I thought, but part of me felt there was more.
When I asked my mom for a ride, she didn’t even leave room for me to explain.
“No, not a chance in hell I’m driving you to Pa’s, he ain’t been right in a long time. I’ve told you this before.”
“But Mom, I-“
“End of discussion. It’s not safe. God knows what his reaction will be to some kid rummaging around his home.”
“I’m his grandson, mom.”
“Not to him you ain’t. Do you realize that he never once asked me your name? I mean the nerve of this guy.” She says scoffing and turning her back to continue washing dishes. “It’s like after grandma died, so did he. Like he’s some soulless freak who replaced my father.” I can hear her fighting back emotion.
“I need to do this Mom. I don’t expect you to understand, but please. Grandma’s stories were special to me and I want to see if she wrote any down that I can read. I know she was an author.”
The room went silent for a while. I could hear my heart beating out of my chest. My mom gave it some thought then she hung her head and sighed.
“Two hours. You get two hours, but I’m not going inside.” I could hear the pain in her solemn voice. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like for her to return to her childhood home with only a memory of her mother and a husk of her father.
“That’s more than enough time. Just keep the car warm for me.” I said with a smile.
“Now get out of my face and put your coat on.”
I ran to my room, grabbed my coat, and ran back out before she took her apron off. I waited anxiously on the couch as my mom got ready. I swear she took longer on purpose just to spite me.
The drive was short. It’s surprising how much distance can be made between people so close together. The house was tall and wide, the type of house you expected to see for a back of the woods family home from the 20s. The roof was in rough shape and the sidings were splintering out. Vines climbed all over the house and the lawn was up to my waist.
“Remember, you have two hours. Not a second later you hear me?”
“Yes ma’am.” I said as I leaped out of the car.
“I’ll be here waiting. Be careful honey! Don’t take too long I better not be out here waiting I will drive-“
Her voice fades as I jogged up the stone path to the front door. As I stood on the front steps, I got a view of the house. I’ve seen vines wrap buildings before, but not like this. They wrapped tightly around the building causing breaks in the siding as if squeezing the house. The vines were acting like a cage containing something.
I put my hand on the door and gave it a slight nudge, the door creaked open. I guess my grandpa never had to worry about any intruders coming all the way back here. I peeked my head in and looked around.
The house was silent. It smelled of smoke and mold. The rooms were dark with one light illuminating a room to my right. I took one step and spoke sheepishly.
“Hello? Grandpa? It’s your grandson. I’ve come to ask a few questions.”
I heard a slight stir followed by silence. I took another step and asked out again.
“Hello? I just want to ask a few things about Grandma. I always loved her stories.”
“Go away boy. I’ve got nothing for you here.” I heard in a thundering voice with as much malice as one could imagine in a man defending his home could muster.
“I just need a few minutes of your time.” I kept creeping towards the light. I could see a couch come into view followed by a coffee table and a recliner. I peaked my head around the entryway and looked around.
There sat a gruff old man in jeans and a black jacket. The recliner lined his body as if he hadn’t gotten up in ages. His hair and beard were unkept and I couldn’t tell if the smell was the house or him.
“Didn’t your parents ever teach you manners? I said, get going.” He yelled, posturing up and reaching for something on his side.
“Grandpa, sir, I just want to talk.”
“Talking ain’t ever good for much you should know.” He said as I could see him hide the barrel of a gun on the opposite side of his recliner.
“I just need a few minutes, then I’ll leave you alone.”
“Out with it then.”
“Of course.” I plopped down onto the couch next to him. The action of me sitting kicks up a decades worth of dust. I don’t mind though, I could see the answers to all my questions within arms reach. “I wanted to talk about Grandma.”
“Merida, the loveliest lady I’ve ever met.”
“Tell me about her. What was she like?”
“She was like the sun after a downpour. Like the first bite of a fresh home cooked meal. Nothing could compare to a lady like her.” He had a slight smile while talking. It went away with his next line. “She was never right, boy. I knew that, we all did.” All joy left his body.
“What do you mean?”
“You see, I’d always catch her whispering to herself. Some crazy mumblings or the like. Then I’d always see her staring. Like someone just shot her dog in front of her. Thing is, nothing would be there. She’d just stare and mumble. It didn’t happen frequently enough to warrant any big warning. I didn’t mind much and so we got married. They only got worse and more often as she aged. She’d say things like ‘it’s in my head’ and ‘get out of me.’ Felt bad that I couldn’t help her. I just wish she would’ve told me about it all.”
I couldn’t gauge his emotions. Was it anger? Sadness? Guilt? I leaned closer to him. I didn’t want to interrupt him. He was speaking the pent up words of decades past. I think he took this as an opportunity for himself to process it all. It was for him as much as it was for me. Part of me wanted to reach out and put a hand on him for comfort. At the time I could only dig deeper.
“Did she ever tell you what she was seeing?”
“No, not while alive.” He motioned to a small book on the corner table next to him. “She left me this before she died.”
“What’s in it?”
“Everything. She explains her affliction, how she tried to cope, and her studies into what they were.”
“Who’s they?”
“The Shadow People.” He looked up and locked onto my eyes. He stared studiously trying to gauge my reaction. I think he sensed my fear and spoke. “You’ve started seeing them too, haven’t you?”
“I- I don’t-“
“Save your words. How old are you?”
“18 years as of a month ago.”
“That checks out. Same time she started seeing them. She wrote that this family was special. They had the ability to see. She didn’t go into details about it just that she, much like those before her, were able to see things that weren’t there. Or maybe they could see things that others couldn’t.” He took a second to ponder the thought.
“Does that mean I’m…”
“Seems like it.”
“Why didn’t my mother say anything? Shouldn’t she see them too?”
“I suppose it skips a generation.”
The realization that I shared the same fate with my grandmother came over me.
“Am I going to end up like her?”
“That’s not something I nor she knows the answer to.” He hanged his head solemnly as if he’d just delivered a cancer diagnosis. “Thing is, she never knew her grandmother much. Her dad never talked about his mother. Seems there wasn’t much to mention seeing as she died shortly after childbirth. Same thing, early dementia, or so they say.”
“So my great great grandmother could see too?”
“That’s the most likely explanation. Seems Merida was the only one who’s lived a full life in recent history.”
Through his nonchalant attitude, I could tell this retelling was taking a burden on him. I figured now would be the best time to pursue the library. I’ve never seen someone so passionate to share their life, while being so sad about what’s happened. My mom was right, he looked like he’d lost his eyes.
“I don’t have any more questions. Thank you for everything. Before I go, can I look at Grandma’s library?
“It’s the least I can do.” He reached for the drawer of the corner table and pulled out a key. “Be careful. I haven’t been there for years. Probably in worse shape than the other parts of the house.”
“Ok, will do.” I got up and walked to the door my grandpa pointed towards. It was down a long hallway with a row of windows looking to the outside. I looked for my mother’s van. She’s still there waiting for me.
I reached the door and inserted the key, jostling the old lock until it opened. I slowly opened the door trying not to breathe in the mold and dust swirling visibly around the room. Tall shelves filled with books of varying conditions lined the walls. I scoured the shelves looking for her name. After half an hour of looking, I found the pocket of the shelves I was looking for.
“Recollections of the Shadows by Merida Louis.” It was a series of books. 4 in total, each about 300 pages long. I grabbed all four and started skimming through them. Their appearance indicated they hadn’t been touched past when they were made. The passages showed each time Merida saw a shadow person. Each entry used to be months apart, but as I looked through each book, the dates grew closer and closer together. I figured now wasn’t the time to start reading intensively but I had what I needed to know this was the right source for information. I chose to read a few passages. What felt like hours passed. I was so engrossed with the entries I had forgotten about the time; however, it wasn’t my mother coming to check on me that took me out of my trance.
I was sitting at my grandmother’s desk facing the hallway. In the dimly lit hallway, I could see movement out of the corner of my eye. I figured it was my grandfather getting out of his recliner to come check on me. It got closer, slowly creeping down the hall, like it was stalking its prey. It stopped 10 feet away. I stopped skimming, looked up, and froze with an eerie realization filling my consciousness. I stood up and stared down the hallway.
It’s back and it’s closer.
I stumbled until my back was to the wall. In a similar manner, the shadow mimicked my movement, falling into an invisible wall. Something was different about it this time. It didn’t need to slouch to match my height, and its eyes were more rounded and wide. It still scrunched its arms to thin itself, but its movements were more fluid. It got better.
The shadow was also closer than before, close enough I could see it clearly. The void once rejected by our world was allowed to exist. The world no longer warped around it, it was simply apparent. It was almost as if the world had welcomed it.
After a few minutes of intense debate, I decided that I’d use the strategy I had last time. Light was the answer to forcing it away. I scanned the room for the light switch but couldn’t find any. House was so old the library didn’t have a central light. I looked for a lamp and found one stashed in the corner by the door. It was standing next to an outlet, all I had to do was plug it in. I looked back to the hall. It moved.
The shadow took the opportunity while I was distracted to approach. Now it was inches from the doorway. So close I could feel the air being sucked into it, leaving nothing but a cold breeze filling the surrounding space. I stared into the vast nothingness, a volume of empty space stood with malicious intent. The figure looked at me as if it knew the situation it forced me into. I had to approach it to reach my salvation.
I wasn’t going down like this, there were still so many answers I needed to find. I slowly walked toward the lamp in the corner, being cautious not to break my line of sight. It stopped mimicking me, only moving its eyes in tandem with my movement. Then, in one quick motion I ran to the lamp, and in one motion the shadow flew toward me. Its force pushing me against the bookshelf. Our distance remained the same as when it stood in the door. 7 feet away it stood in the middle of the room smiling at me.
I was pinned against the bookshelf unable to move an inch in any direction. There was a radius around it that barred my entry. It was a sphere of distorted reality that rejected me at every turn. It didn’t move either, we just remained in this stalemate for an infinite amount of time. Its face would try to shape into looks of fear and horror. It had an exaggerated expression that it wore, mocking my despair.
I lost hope, it wasn’t going to let me leave, but then I heard a loud bang. My grandfather aimed down the barrel of his shotgun that was still smoking from the recent shot. The shadow was unphased, but in the moment its focus was diverted. It started to walk towards my grandfather, but he dashed to the opposite side of the library. The shadow followed him and another shot rang out at the ground. My grandpa reloaded his gun but the shadow was a step quicker. It pushed him down hard into the floor, but the old timer recovered quickly.
“NOW’S YOUR CHANCE. RUN, SAM!” He yells, aiming again and letting another round off.
I grabbed the stack of books near the desk and ran out into the hallway. As I ran, the darkness outside transitioned into a bright light. I kept running through the living room and out the door, being sure not to miss a step in fear of being caught. I heard a scream of pain followed by another shot in the air.
I ran out onto the front lawn and saw my mom’s van. I banged on the window and startled my mother, patiently typing on her laptop. She unlocked the door and I threw it open.
“Honey, what’re you doing here? What happened? It’s only been an hour?”
“Mom, you have to drive GO GO!”
“You’re acting crazy, what did he do to you?”
“I- I can’t explain it, let’s just go!”
She accelerated the car and we drove onto the gravel road. As the house grew further and further away, I had the courage to look back. The vines were gone and the house looked to be renovated. The roof was brand new, the sidings were freshly painted, and the lawn was freshly cut.
I didn’t speak the whole ride home. When we got home, I went straight to my room and plopped on my bed. My mother knocked on my bedroom door, but I didn’t respond.
Nothing but questions filled my mind again. After everything I learned from what my grandfather told me, I was only left with more questions. I started recalling all the events. The interview, the passages in the books, and the encounter with the shadow.
My grandmother and I shared an ability to see the shadows. An ability that’s been passed down for generations. She slowly lost her mind as a result and was never of sane mind. I might share in this fate if I don’t find a way to stop it.
I think back to the encounter. The shadow was no longer a passive bystander. It stood freakishly in the corner with a smirk when it wasn’t copying my face. It knew it was getting closer to me, but not close enough to touch me. I still don’t know its motives, but it knows its goals aren’t far away.
Then my grandfather. That would be the last day I ever saw him. He was pronounced dead 2 weeks later when my mother requested a wellness check. I never told her the full details of that day, and she knows to this day that I’m hiding something from her. I said he freaked out when he found me sneaking out of his house after raiding the library. She didn’t hear the gunshots.
The funeral was rushed and only my family and a few strangers came to give their condolences. In his last days he made many enemies out of his loved ones. Only reason I was able to go was because I begged my family to go. Someone also had to front the bill. At the time, I was grieving for having been the one to escape. I left him, and he died alone.
But I couldn’t explain one thing about that night. How did he know my name?