The house at the end of Cedarwood never collected dust. Despite the owners having died over fifty years ago, the windows sparkled and the wood looked freshly oiled and maintained. The grass was trimmed, as were the bushes, and the lush garden was filled with rows of flowers of all kinds, which never showed a sign of withering. As a child, I thought it was the ghost of the mayor who originally owned the mansion, and maintained it. However, Mom explained that it was something the townsfolk did out of respect. A sign of the bond that remained between the town and its former ruler, who had since passed. It’s like dropping flowers at a gravestone, except for an entire house. Though odd, it was far from the top of the list of oddities Cedarwood seemed to have.
“Oh, John,” Mrs. Hicks’ voice was supposed to have projected across the beige, brick walls of the family-owned convenience store. However, any louder than that would’ve resulted in a fit of violent coughs, and splots of blood coating the meagre handkerchief she kept by her side. Turning my direction away from the house across the street and back to Mrs. Hicks, I gave her a pitying smile, despite knowing how much she despised being looked down at. My parents were going to leave for a date, which meant that I would have the house to myself. With that knowledge, I grabbed a couple of bags of chips, some chocolate bars, and a bottle of soda.
“How’re you doing?” I asked as I placed the food atop the counter, feeling a moral obligation to check up on her. Her dimples deepened, but the look in her eyes was an answer enough.
“Don’t you worry about me, dear,” she wheezed, stopping herself right before another cough. “If you stressed over every one of us who were sick, you’d have hair greyer than mine.”
“I think it’d suit me,” I smiled, and for the first time since I’d started visiting her, she laughed. That only resulted in her covering her mouth with the handkerchief and heaving. The town of Cedarwood has, for as long as I remember, been suffering from an illness. Doctors have done their best to explain it, saying it was a result of the pollution, or that this particular stretch of land was riddled with mold. However, even though most towns with a legend as ominous as this one would have become hollow shells of themselves, Cedarwood’s population has kept a steady, healthy pace. The rare disappearance resulted in a family moving out to grieve, but that was the worst of it.
“Now, don’t go and let me stop you. If I know your momma, she won’t take too kindly to waiting,” Mrs. Hicks warned, waving me away with a handkerchief stained a deep red. Her face flared up once she realized how unseemly she appeared, rushing to throw the cloth in a plastic bag beneath the counter. Giving her a faint nod, I turned around to the exit, only to be stopped by a towering figure in blue. I yelped, a sound I didn’t want to admit escaping me and scrambled backwards.
“Sheriff Rufus,” I breathed a sigh of relief, stepping back as the mountain of a man stepped inside. The Sheriff gave a booming laugh, taking his hat off and giving Mrs. Hicks a nod. His mustache curled with his lips, forming the smirk everyone at Cedarwood knew. Though an intimidating behemoth, you’ll be hard-pressed to find anything truly afraid of him. Even the rare criminal would feel at ease being arrested by him.
“A pleasure as always, ma’am.” Once he tilted his head back towards me, any semblance of professionalism faded. “What’s got you so jumpy, Johnny boy? You didn’t steal anything, did you?”
“Oh, he would never,” Mrs. Hicks laughed, this time without the intrusion of her sickness. “He’s a sweet boy, he’d never break the law.”
“Sure is,” Sheriff Rufus’ trademark grin faltered for a little, his expression taking on more of a serious note. “Except for that one time I caught you sneaking out after 10.” Mrs. Hicks gasped, the sound causing guilt to eat away at my insides.
“John!” She scolded, hands resting at her sides. I just rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly, unable to look the two in the eye. “Do you have a death wish or something? What about all the disappearances? Imagine how your parents would feel not being able to find their boy.”
“Now, now, Mrs. Hicks, he’s already been punished plenty enough. No need to add salt to the wound,” The Sheriff assured, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Besides, he promised not to do it again. Right, John?” Though it was a question, it would’ve been dumb to assume I could answer with anything but a ‘yes, sir.’ Despite being gentle, Sheriff Rufus was still a force to be reckoned with, and the last thing I wanted was to get on his bad side.
“Anyways,” The Sheriff continued, turning to see what I was so enamoured by. When he realized it was the previous mayor’s house, his smile had all but disappeared. “Head on home, John. Don’t keep your folks waiting.” I nodded, bidding the two goodbyes and stepping out. By the time I got back, it was already nearing eight. My parents scampered around the two-story house like rats, frantically putting on their suits. I watched from the window, eyebrow quirked up. Mom grabbed me by the chin with a little too much force, planting a half-hearted kiss on the side of my cheek, before rushing out. Dad, on the other hand, just slapped the back of my head.
“Don’t you go wandering out. Stay here, watch TV, do whatever,” He warned, pointing his finger at me, before disappearing in the distance, grabbing my mother’s hand as he walked down the street. I gave him a salute like the one I see Sheriff Rufus give him when he’s joking around. Once I couldn’t make out their form anymore, I immediately went to text my friend.
“Hey, parents are out for the night. Wanna sneak out?” Sarah’s response came only a few seconds after mine.
“Yeah, mine too. What’re you thinking, my place or yours?”
“I actually have something different in mind. Kinda want to explore the mayor’s old house,” Nothing. I could see she read it, but I wasn’t even met with the three dots to signify she was typing. I sat down on the couch, staring at the screen until finally, a message popped up.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“If you’re too chicken, that’s fine by me. I can go by myself.”
“I’m not scared, I just don’t want my mom to kill me for sneaking out. Your parents will let you off with a slap, mine will literally crucify me.”
“Come on,” I whined, not caring that she couldn’t hear me. “Just an hour. The place is probably locked, so we’ll just check it out and leave after a couple of minutes.” I could practically hear the sigh she was undoubtedly releasing.
“Fine. If we get caught, I WILL blame it on you.”
I sent her an emoticon of a thumbs up, grinning. “See you.”
I quickly changed into warmer clothes, as it was getting cold outside, and made sure I had a flashlight. I couldn’t deny the butterflies in my stomach, and the slight shake in my hands. Sure, I had been out a few times, but never have I visited the house up close, on account of everyone warning me away.
My phone buzzed, and I jumped outside, not needing to open the message to know who it was from or what it contained. Sarah flinched at the suddenness of the door opening, only for her eyes to return to those piercing dark orbs, whose looks made you think she looked down at you like trash, probably because she did.
“Hey,” She said, the usual monotony to her voice. It was clear she didn’t want to be there. I didn’t blame her, though. “You have a plan?”
“Of course I-“
“If the plan is ‘walk in and hope we don’t get killed’, I’m going to kick your ass,” She interrupted, and the way she said it left no room for argument.
“Uh, well… I have no plan then,” She let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s not like I’m actually expecting to get inside.”
“I am,” She snorted, leading the way. “If I’m risking getting grounded for the rest of eternity, you bet I want the payout to be worth it.”
“What, do you want to find the mayor’s treasure or something?” I scoffed.
“No, dumbass, I’m going to find evidence. Proof that something fishy is going on here,” She answered, walking a little faster than usual. I stopped, her words catching me off guard. Sarah was never one to say what she really thought, so hearing her laying out her suspicions like that was jarring. “Something isn’t right here, John. This town, i-it’s not normal. The disappearances, the sickness, the…” She trailed off, looking around as if expecting someone to be following.
“Do you think someone is in on this, or something?”
“Not exactly… Maybe? I don’t know,” I jogged forward, closing the distance she gained in my time frozen to the ground. An uncomfortable silence accompanied our walk, only stopping once the lavish house was encroaching on the two of us.
“Seeing it up close, I’m starting to get second thoughts about all this… How about we head back?”
“I’m not leaving,” She stated, her chest suddenly puffing out confidently. The gates were less of a defensive measure and more of a suggestion, as they were barely taller than me. Still, the condition they were in was pristine, with not a hint of rust coating any of the many bars lining the house’s width. With a shrug, I jumped, grabbing the top. A little grunt escaped me as I lifted myself, crossing the top, and falling unceremoniously on the cement floor.
“Ow,” I wheezed, rolling around. “Okay, I’m good.” Sarah rolled her eyes, only to fall even less gracefully than I did. “Do you think somebody heard that?” My question prompted a short silence, both of our ears searching for the faintest of footsteps. The quiet made room for the familiar ringing to pierce my ears. Then, I breathed.
“Probably not. Come on, let’s go inside,” Sarah took the initiative, leading the way. Her shoulders were tense, and I could see her fingers quivering. Though she hid it well, I knew she was as afraid as I was. Probably more so. I sighed before following along, feeling a creeping sense of dread overtake me with each step I took. Ornate rails lined the path leading up to the front doors, which were made out of some sort of expensive, exotic wood. I gently pressed a foot atop the first step, taking great care not to make the wood creak, an action that proved to be useless as Sarah stomped up the planks, not bothering to hide the noise.
“Dude,” I chided, and she turned around to glare at me.
“If somebody were here, they would’ve heard the sound of you falling, not some footsteps,” She huffed, rolling her eyes. I grumbled a response before returning my gaze to the white door. A golden doorknob, shined not but a day ago, mirrored my image, if a little distorted. As my fingers traced the engravings, I felt my stomach begin to churn, a mixture of anxiety and nausea.
“If you’re too chicken, that’s fine by me,” She mocked, using my own words against me. When she realized my apprehension wasn’t born from cowardice, her smile faded. “Well… It won’t hurt to try the handle. It’s obviously going to be locked, so might as well, right?”
Right, might as well. There was no way it would be open. Even as I turned the knob and felt no obstructing force, a part of me still screamed that the door would not give way. However, that part of me died a swift death as the door opened with a slow, ominous creak. My heart stopped, and Sarah’s eyes widened in surprise.
“W-what, are you serious? The mayor’s house is just left wide open?” She whispered, a scoff badly masking her shivering voice. “They take so much time maintaining the damn thing, but they can’t be bothered to lock it?” She pushed me in once the door was open wide enough, and I instinctively raised my hand. The flashlight projected the beam of light, hitting the corner of the barren hallway. Not a single chair, carpet, or painting adorned the space. That was about what I was expecting; Empty but clean as a result of the constant maintenance. “Well, we’ve basically broken every single law in this town, and all we got for it is the inside of a dusty hallway.”
“Not exactly,” I swiped a finger across the ground, and yet nothing covered it. “It’s not even dusty. This place is cleaned regularly.”
“Great. I don’t know what I was expecting,” She hissed, eyebrows furrowing into her skull. “I’m stupid for thinking this place would have anything to do with the disappearances.”
“H-hey, Sarah, don’t beat yourself up,” I gently patted her shoulder, recoiling as she shook my hand away.
“Don’t,” She growled, stuffing her hands deep into her pockets and looking anywhere but my eyes. “We should just…” Her gaze eventually locked on to something, and I could see the cogs whirring inside of her. “Can you point your flashlight behind you?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said, turning around. The light revealed a door with stairs. Stairs that led down. “A basement!” I yelped, immediately covering my mouth with a hand. “A basement,” I repeated, more quietly. “Do you think…?”
“That’s where all the answers are?” She continued for me, although her tone indicated she was finishing my words rather than agreeing with them.
“I was gonna ask if the mayor’s head is cryogenically frozen there Disney style, but sure, that’s a good theory too,” She gave me a look, and I chuckled awkwardly. “Right, not the time.”
“Not the time,” She echoed. “And I doubt it’ll be any different from what we’ve seen already.”
“Great, so just more empty rooms and dust,” I scratched the back of my head, walking up to the door. As I gripped the fancy doorknob and pulled, I was met with a flight of stairs that descended beyond what the beam of light could reveal. “So, uh, should we…?” Sarah answered my question by taking the lead and taking the first step down. She waited as if expecting for something to happen, before continuing down. I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and followed.
The descent was steep and long, and if it weren’t for Sarah, I would’ve turned around the halfway point. My light finally found something to illuminate; A white, marble floor that reflected the rays at me, indicating that it had been mopped not too long ago. My heart stopped, however, as I realized there was another source of light. It was faint and down a long hallway, where two doors sat at the end, their handles made out of the same gold as the one on the front door. Her hand found mine, squeezing with a force I didn’t know she possessed. She was scared, and yet the will to press on was stronger.
“I-it could be a burglar or one of the people who clean the place,” I tried to reason, and even the idea of meeting the latter didn’t sit well with me. “If they find us, we’re going to get into so much trouble.”
“That didn’t stop you from hopping over the gate,” She didn’t bother to look over her shoulder, her words coming out like a reflex. With a pull, I stumbled closer and closer to the end of the hallway, until we were right outside the door. I leaned on the wall next to the entrance, analyzing the strange design adorning the metallic slabs. It was some sort of pattern, with the gold lining the black, creating an elaborate swirl. It was hypnotizing, and yet it sent a shiver down my spine. I had already dialled 911, my thumb hovering inches above the button, when I moved to look through the window.
Calling it a room would’ve been a massive understatement, as it was more akin to a dance hall. Its length and width stretched to a distance outmatching the size of the original house it was built on. Brilliant, glistening chandeliers hung from the sprawling marble ceilings, looming over floors lined by a series of tables and chairs. Paintings, each depicting scenes of the most beautiful places imaginable, decorated the walls. Meals not yet released from their metal containers were placed neatly on top of the tables, steam rising from them, indicating that they were still fresh. It was, by all means, a party, one that should’ve contained music and the constant pitter-patter of dancing feet.
There were people. At least a hundred finely dressed guests, all wearing masks depicting different fauna. Each of them stood facing the end of the room. Rarely, a glass of wine was perched on top of their palm, the crimson liquid threatening to spill over as their grip tightened. They were so still I would’ve confused them for mannequins if not for the natural sway of the human body. Aside from the tables, the only other object in the room was the stage, which held the attention of each and every single one of the people present.
There, a figure dressed in flowing white robes stood, arms raised above his head as if waiting for the final moments of a concert. The mask he wore depicted the face of a crow, with an elongated beak that curved down. Beside him was the spindly form of a woman, whose body couldn’t go a few seconds without shivering. Unlike the snow-white ceramic masks of the other partygoers, hers were tainted by splotches of green and cracks. She looked to the man beside her, who gave her a nod.
I watched as the man made a show of speaking, arms outstretched in dramatic displays of grandeur. I thought that somehow the door was blocking all sound coming from the room, but the faint sounds of clothes rustling and the clacking of heels could be heard. It was quiet enough to make Sarah’s inaudible whimpers the only thing I could hear.
Finally, once the man was finished with his speech, he turned to the woman, extending a hand out. Hesitating for a moment, she took it, allowing him to lead her to a wooden tub. She put one foot in with the help of the man before the other went in. Gently, the man pressed down on her shoulders, forcing her on her knees, then all fours, then onto her stomach until her head was the only thing poking out. He gently stroked her hair, greasy, tangled strands ensnaring his fingers, before suddenly, slamming her head down. She retaliated, and I saw an arm covered in a dripping red liquid fight back. However, her ailment did not allow her to do much. The man soon subdued her, placing her head back into the tub. The sloshing of the crimson fluid which I had desperately avoided calling blood echoed through the cavernous room.
Soon enough, her thrashing grew into pathetic twitches, then stillness. Something primal within screamed at me to run, witnessing something no mortal was meant to see. It forced my thumb forward, dialling 911 before I even knew what was happening. Though the grip fear had around my throat was ever-tightening, I was brought comfort upon remembering who exactly the police were in this town. The moment they found out about this, they would bring justice, and it would be over. I kept taking momentary glances at the priest, who watched the tub with the same discipline the rest of the guests did. By the time I took a fifth glance, I realized the Police hadn’t picked up.
“Shit, shit, come on,” I mumbled, frantically tapping the screen. It had to work. The cops had to get here because I sure as hell didn’t have a plan to stop these psychos.
“Wh-what’s wrong? Did they not pick up?” Sarah’s voice broke me out of my thoughts, and I quickly looked at her.
“Y-yeah, I think it’s the reception,” I stuttered, and the explanation clicked together. Since we were so far underground, it must’ve been messing with the signal. “Let’s go. We’ll call them once we’re outside.” Sarah didn’t dare say a word, merely nodding before walking. As we reared the corner to the staircase, we were stopped by a towering figure, whose monstrous height rivaled the size of the hallway. His mask depicted a canine of some sort. The option of reasoning with them didn’t even make it across my mind, and I turned around, hoping there was something on the other side of the hallway.
However, all that met me was a hand that wrapped around my throat, followed by yet another suited man, his mask that of a stag. Though Sarah was able to skid to a halt before he could grab her too, the giant man wrapped his arm around her neck.
“Please, no, no!” Sarah pleaded, the tears streaming down her cheeks evident despite the lack of light. My desperate cries died before they left my mouth, my apologies never reaching their destination. He didn’t waste any time opening the door, dragging the still-kicking body of Sarah inside, where everyone’s attention was directed to us. I expected the figure to do the same with me, but all he did was hold me in that vice grip, looking toward the priest. Once I followed his gaze, I could feel my heart skip a beat. Next to the fly-masked man was the woman. Her body, caked in so much red I assumed it was paint, rose from the tub. Chunks of something dropped over her shoulder and head, sluggishly sliding down her body before dropping into the liquid with a plop. She turned, facing Sarah, now able to keep herself as static as the rest of the guests. Her legs no longer shivered, and what were once ragged breaths were now deep inhales.
“J-John!” Sarah choked out, extending an arm out. On instinct, I reached out to her, only to be reeled back and the familiar sensation of asphyxiation hitting me. I thought I was going to join Sarah, but as the stag-masked man took the first step up the stairs, I realized something was wrong. I attempted to keep up with his steps, but the lack of oxygen made me light-headed, and I found myself tripping over every other step. I tried on several occasions to break free of his grip, but after a while, I realized it wasn’t even necessary.
Once we made it out, he tossed my body out of the door, causing me to stumble and fall onto the gravel path, the sound of a slamming door making itself known behind me. My lungs greedily took in the air as the ringing in my ear subsided. I considered passing out right then and there, but the thought of Sarah forced my eyelids open. I dialled the police again, and again, and again, but the call never made it through. It wasn’t a matter of connection this time, I knew for sure. That meant I couldn’t rely on the police if I wanted to save Sarah.
If.
Though I stood up, and a small part of me wanted to charge in and save her, it was easily outmatched by the other part. I took a step back, imagining endless possibilities for what could happen to Sarah, and each one was worse than the last. I took another step back, thoughts of being next flashing in my mind. Finally, after the third, I turned tail and ran, never looking back. Though it was late, not a single car passed, and the roads and streets were empty. The only noise accompanying me was the sound of my heartbeat, beating so loudly I was sure anyone could hear.
I returned home without so much as an issue, but that didn’t do anything to quell the uneasiness bubbling in my stomach. They would find out. I don’t know who “they” were, but I knew they would. Maybe it would be Sarah confessing that she went here with me, the stag-masked man who threw me out, or the police who managed to trace my calls back to me. I wasn’t sure how many of the townsfolk were in on this, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire population knew about the party. It sickened me that these were thoughts that plagued my mind rather than concern for Sarah, but I didn’t care if I was being a coward. My survival remained my top priority.
I couldn’t sleep. Throughout the night, I had the sensation that someone was watching me, but every time I opened my eyes, all I saw were the familiar walls of my room. The next morning, my parents awoke me with news I was more than aware of; Sarah had gone missing. My mom was on the verge of tears, leaving Dad to explain the situation. It was the same set of circumstances that followed her sister’s disappearance.
“The police will find her, John. There’s nothing to worry about,” As if his wavering voice didn’t deter my faith enough, I was brought back to the image of the giant looming man that grabbed Sarah, and I immediately thought of the police.
“I hope so,” Was all I could muster before leaving the room. A walk would get my mind off of things, I thought, and I naturally ended up at Mrs. Hicks’ convenience store. I didn’t stay for long, however. Though her toothy grin was plastered over her face as usual, something was missing. The uncontrollable shivers that shook her body were now nonexistent. In fact, she never looked healthier. She couldn’t even get a word out before I sprinted outside, bumping into Sheriff Rufus as I did. He gave me a wave, but my paranoia-infested mind only conjured the most malicious of intentions for him. They were going to get me, I thought. It was something that entered my mind every waking moment of my life. My declining mental state was explained by the loss of Sarah, and I suppose her disappearance had something to do with it. But no one knew what actually happened. Or, worse yet, they knew all too well.
Though every attempt at leaving this town was met with heavy protests by the others, my parents eventually couldn’t handle seeing me in this state and agreed to move. The change in scenery did, admittedly, help. I didn’t have to see that cursed house in my peripherals every time I left for school, and I didn’t have to smile at those who I knew for certain who participated in whatever the hell happened that night. But, like most things, the relief was only temporary, and it became apparent why the idea of leaving seemed so foreign to Cedarwood. Mom was the first to fall to the sickness. Her coughing fits were the first sign, and before we knew it, she was bedridden, with her skin becoming paler by the day.
Dad didn’t waste a moment to get her treatment, but nothing the doctors prescribed her worked. The best we got from them were apologies, and that they were “stumped”. By the time Mom was too far gone, Dad was next in line. Like the stubborn man he was, he continued working his ass off for money. That is until he collapsed. Once he regained consciousness, he requested for me to visit him.
“You…” He wheezed, gripping my shirt with all the strength his frail muscles could muster up. “Need to return to that town… I beg of you, stay in it. They will help you.” I was about to protest, but the look in his eye was too much. “I’ve already packed your stuff, John. Please, I can’t bear knowing that I let you die.” His hand dropped to the side by the time he finished, the only movement coming from him being the subtle expansion of his chest.
Returning home, I found that my luggage was packed. Once the initial shock that he was able to prepare it in such little time faded, I approached it cautiously, pulling the zipper back bit by bit. Inside was every essential I needed. Clothes, toiletries, money, and my laptop. And atop them all was a mask.
A mask of a stag.