Shadows

I managed to keep the old Chevy pickup running as it rattled down the winding two track dirt road. The piece of crap was one of my concessions to saving money to buy a piece of the world for myself.

The listing for the huge stone house was in a local advertiser, it sounded interesting. Plus it was cheap.

Way too cheap.

Two stories, piles of rooms, all rock construction and 10 acres? Yep, cheap, way too cheap. Something was fucking wrong with the deal, but it was worth a look. I wanted to know why so I proceeded to jump start my old truck, stuck my spare battery and tools in the back just in case, and headed out on the 180 mile trip to see the property.

The distance also bothered me a bit, I run a little one man (well sometimes two but rare) construction company. Hell, I can build anything and have a pretty good following. That was the reason for looking in the first place, I needed a place to be.

My ratty apartment didn't cut it anymore, sometimes my landlord would get all snotty when I stacked piles of building materials in his parking lot. Fixing his roof for free once helped, and he reluctantly looked the other way for a year or two. But my business was growing and the stacks in the parking lot were getting bigger. (I also had about 500 pounds of nails and some barrels of sealer that I kept in my apartment, no point in telling him about that.)

Time to move on, besides, I had a couple hundred grand tucked away, half of that came in when my Mom passed away. No other relatives, nothing to hold me anywhere. No girl friend to speak of, there was a couple who hung around from time to time and tried to keep me interested, but none of them were the one, that I could see. Well, there was Bonnie, her main claim to fame was she could suck the hide off a Walrus, and she was fun to screw around with.

Besides, she had big firm tits she just loved to have me lick. I will be honest, I liked doing that.

Bonnie also loved it when I had her down on her back, my solid seven inches pounding away at her. She made a funny "yi yi yi yi!" sound, sometimes that got me to giggling and I would go soft which always pissed her off.

But Bonnie was already running to a bit of fat at only 20, and I had met her mother whose behind would make most Elephants jealous. I knew what I was in for if I hooked up with that one. So she was just someone to be with and have fun, and lord we did do that.

Yea, I was keeping my mind occupied with thoughts like that, dang long trip in an old truck that was even money to break something halfway anywhere.

I stopped and got better directions at a tiny rundown little store, the old woman behind the counter had given me an odd look when asked about the place. She knew exactly which one I was looking for when I said "Stone house."

"That place used to be a high class cathouse some 50 years ago." she said. "There was a buncha trouble out there, the Sheriff shut it down. Been just a few folks lived there since."

Can't say I liked the sound of that much.

Her parting words to me as I opened the door to leave with my bag of snacks didn't do a lot to pump up my confidence either.

"Thanks, and....good luck.", was her passing comment.

The dusty two track dirt thing that passed for a road wasn't helping my mood any, either, it twisted and turned. The trees alongside seemed to get closer and closer, finally the old truck was almost pushing her way through the hanging branches as they rattled against the cab.

Then the road opened into a clearing, overlooked by the huge house up on the hill, surrounded by trees and excess growth.

Giving the old Chevy all she had to make a run at the last little upgrade, it chugged and snorted, but managed to claw it's way up and into the yard.

I shut it down with a hiss and some clouds of smoke, got out and looked around. They weren't kidding when they said the house was big. The roofs were so steep that if I had to do repairs I would need a fucking skyhook, my big extension ladder would handle the eaves but that was it.

The sun was halfway to noon in the sky, a breeze that felt damp was flowing lightly from the west, causing the leaves on the trees to flutter.

There was a strange complete silence.

Once up to the porch, one look told me to not step in the center of the simple plank steps, I carefully placed my weight close to the edge.

Blackberry vines grew right through the open deck style flooring of the porch at one end, the boards were twisted and weatherbeaten. The entire porch looked like it was tacked on afterwards by someone who didn't know how to build, one support stringer for the lean-to type roof actually met in the middle, with two 2 by 4's scabbed onto the sides for added stength.

I hate shit like that, I am a builder, my stuff doesn't wiggle.

"Well, I see part of the low price." I thought.

Reaching for the door, it wasn't locked, even though a key was in my pocket.

The door squeaked and complained as I pushed it open, it had been a long time since anyone was here, I could tell that easily. And it was very dark inside, there seemed to be no windows. The only light came from somewhere up high, and it wasn't much. I light my cigarette lighter to help, rolling the little wheel to make the flame reach higher.

Strange, the little flame seemed to iluminate the whole room. Then I heard something, looked around. The glow from my lighter cast flickering shadow, but nothing was there.

Bare hardwood floors greeted me, over to the right was a huge circular bannister going upstairs. I headed that way, spotting the ornate carvings on the bannister railing.

Someone had spent literally hundreds of hours doing them, each carving was in deep relief, detail. Faces, animals, it was a bit like a totem pole, and it was all the way to the top that way. Running my fingers over the fine wood, it was smooth as silk. It hit me that the railing alone was worth a fortune properly marketed on any auction site. Squatting down to inspect the steps, each one was fitted, doweled into place, solid as a rock. I jumped up and down, not a sound. Likeing that and satisfied, I went on up the stairs.

The upstairs was more bare hardwood floors, I had expected well-worn. They looked old but fresh, almost unused. There was a broken window pane high up the wall letting in a small ray of light, the rest were intact but dark like they were very dirty. A stain where water had been coming in reached all the way to the floor, forming another stain on the bare wood. Looking closer there were other windows, all high and all dark. At the top of the steps, I looked closer, every window pane appeared to be painted. There was dark sloppy over painting on the windowsills.

"Hard to reach those to clean up." I thought, wondering why they were painted over. My 40' extension ladder would handle it though.

Wandering around the upstairs, there was a row of bedrooms, and one little washroom halfway down the hall. Nothing spectacular, each room was a carbon copy of the next. There were huge monstrous support beams for the roof, they appeared to be solid hardwood. I made myself a mental note to double check on that if I bought the place.

Downstairs, found the kitchen. There was a complete bank of stoves and equipment, enough to put a crew in and feed an army. The one little stove looked well used, but there was five others, all in a row. Someone had used it to feed a crew, or an army, one time or another. A neat walkin storage area was off to the side, handy. Simple shelving in there, except they were hardwood. So far I hadn't found a single piece of plywood in the entire building.

I looked for a light switch, there weren't any. Looking up, there were no lights, instead some curved lanterns hung regularly spaced along the walls. I hadn't even asked the real estate lady about lights, the world we live in is modern, lighting is expected.

Inspecting the fixtures, each one was solid brass, each had an ornate lense that lifted off. Figures were etched into the glass, it hit me that they were the same style as on the railing. Each design was unique, this was expensive stuff. Had to be done by hand.

Searching further, it became obvious the building was powered entirely by gas, except for the huge stone fireplace over by one wall. It was built by the same people who built the house, the stones of the house and fireplace were fitted, not mortered in. This place had taken a long time to build, even if the crew was large and good at what they did.

I was beginning to think this place was in a fucking Aztec country or something, almost everything was amazing.

Something was wrong, it was way too cheap. I just hadn't discovered why yet.

The big gas storage tanks were outside in a small shed, they seemed out of place, brand new. I traced the lines into the house, they had been installed as an afterthought. Each lamp had a line to it, more gas lines ran into the kitchen, feeding the bank of stoves.

I thought about the electricity, I had traveled a good 15 miles, maybe a bit more down the dirt track that passed for a road. That was after the little two lane lane country highway and there was a good 20 miles of that. It was going to have to be generators to ever install electric lights.

Trying the valve on the big gas storage tank, it turned easily. Clearly new, I was rewarded with a soft hiss as the lines pressurized.

Back inside the house, I had one of the lamps lit in short order, a soft yellow glow filtered across the room.

Lighting the 2nd lamp, I first heard the quiet mewing sound. It sounded a bit like what I thought I heard when I had lit the lighter, but louder. Looking around, it stopped. It began again while lighting another lamp, again I looked.

Nothing. Just dismissed it as a rodent, or cat somewhere, maybe just old house sounds as it moved slightly to warmth from the rising sun.

Satisfied, I shut everything down, locking the door with some effort. I made a mental note to bring my oil can next trip.

One touch of the key in the old truck surprised me, it roared to life instantly.

"Not bad, not bad at all!" I thought. The value of the bare land was more than the asking price. Hell, the 12" X 24" solid Oak stringers that supported the huge roof and 2nd floor would likely bring the asking price if I tore the house down. Sure, stuff to repair, but that is what I did for a living.

Room to even house a crew to run the place and work in my construction company, a big kitchen to feed them. Lots of ground to stack building materials, room to put up a shed to build trusses in. Plans were forming in my mind.

I went ahead and bought the place, spending damn near every dime. In total confidence. My thoughts were that the owners were likely some out of country bunch or something, all information of them was blanked out on the forms the real estate lady had me sign. I would have normally balked at that, but dollar signs were in my eyes. I just went with the flow, wanting nothing to screw up this deal.

The next week I was back, tools, lumber, a pickup load of needed items filling the back. Nice thing about an all cash sale, they are quick.

The porch was half repaired when a moving van arrived, three burly guys on board to help me move furnishings and provisions.

"This place gives me the spooks!" one of them said.

"Yea, it's haunted."

They quickly moved everything inside, and left.

I finished the porch repairs, went inside. My curiousity was about all the stoves, there was six of them.

The small one was huge, the big one looked like someone could roast half a cow in there. In between were flat topped ones, hell, It was possible to get 50 flapjacks going at once on them. One of the grills and the huge oven on the end were still wood fired, the rest had been converted to gas, Why two left wood fired? I really had no idea why. Perhaps once they were used for dealing with a large crew? I figured on selling all of them but the little one. Once the generator was in, the space would be perfect for a refrigerator and maybe a big freezer, room left over for anything.

Firing the little stove, I used it to heat up some sandwiches. Nothing like a little heat to help the taste of deli sandwiches.

Finishing my meal, I opened a soda, sat back and relaxed. I had expected the place to be cold, but one nice thing about stone is it takes a long time to warm up, but it also takes a long time to cool down. It was a nice toasty temperature inside, the warmth off the walls that had heated up during the day felt good.

Darkness was falling, I lit a lamp, then a 2nd one. As I did so, I heard that soft mewing sound again.

"What the hell is that?" I wondered. Looking, there was nothing. It always stopped when I turned my head. More lamps, more mewing. It sounded like a kitten, or someone softly crying.

As I walked over towards the stairs, a motion out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Looking, there was nothing. Shaking my head, I turned back, the motion was there again. I stared at the floor where the edge of the light reached, nothing.

Back upstairs, I lit the bedroom lamp. The mewing started again, upstairs now. There were more little flickers of motion, always out of the corner of my eye. Something to do with the lamp, reflections?

But it was starting to drive me fucking nuts! I went and got my test kit, the noise had to be coming from the gas lines, a leak or something.

Everything tested normal, there were no leaks.

Finally dismissing it as something in the lamp itself making the noise from heating up, I went to bed.

After sleeping solidly for several hours, something woke me.

Dreaming of sweet sex, I smiled inside at the memory of the dream. I felt her face as she nuzzled up against my neck, I relaxed and basked in the sensation. Her lips traced down my stomach, my eyes were closed trying to dream, bask in the sensations.

Then the terrible stab of pain as she bit down on me.

I sat bolt upright, my lower body felt damp. It was pitch black, but I knew no one was in the room with me. I reached down, touched myself, felt the wetness.

"Now what the hell, a fucking leak in the roof?" I thought, the wet dream gone from my mind.

I climbed out of bed, fumbled around in the dark for my cigarette lighter. It didn't help much. I felt my way across the room to the lamp, turned the valve, lit it.

The soft mewing started again, I ignored that, walked back to my bed. I was actually looking up at the roof to see where the water was coming from as I pulled the covers back. Looking down, I went cold with shock.

Blood!

I looked down at myself, I was bloody. The front of my underwear, my thighs, was soaked in blood!

Frightened, I fumbled my way out the door and down the hallway to the bathroom, cursing my stupidity for not bringing a flashlight. The entire house was pitch black, I had to feel my way all the way due to the not yet familiar surroundings, the bit of light from the flame just made shadows.

I managed to get the bathroom lamp lit, pulled my underwear down, looking for the cut where the blood was coming from.

There wasn't one.

I inspected my genitals, stomach, even lifted my testicles and looked.

Nothing.

Then that mewing sound began again just outside the bathroom. There seemed to be a motion past the open door, right where the light from the lamp reached. I looked but nothing was there. It came back as I looked away. A shudder, then a chill went through me.

I washed myself in the cold water, thinking I needed to figure out the heating system for that. Crazy to think of that right then but I did. I left the lamps lit, went back to my bedroom and dressed. As I passed into the hall the hairs on my legs seemed to flare out, from a blast of cold air or a draft or something. My watch read 4 AM. Outside, I climbed into my truck, locked the doors.

Someone was screwing with me!

It had to be that. Probably they had been living out here, and were pissed at my sbowing up.

No other explanation, but I didn't want to confront them in the fucking dark.

Attempting to start the truck, it groaned and clicked a few times, that was it. Frightened now, I reached under the seat, felt the handle of my pistol, pulled it out. Somehow that made me feel better, safe, although I didn't have a fucking clue what I was going to shoot at.

The sun was shining in my eyes when I woke up, still clutching the pistol. Again the attempt to start the truck, it fired right up, another surprise. Off down the road to town I went.

I wasn't driving slow, either.

I was going to find that goddamn mewing noise, figure this shit out. Maybe when whoever the asshole was showed up and got a butt full of Rottwieller he would change his mind about things.

Besides being a bit scared, I was pissed off.

I had passed a kennel that sold animals about 30 miles down the highway from the little store. No one could miss the sign, it was ten feet tall, read, "Donnie's quality pets" in huge letters. A dog could probably root out the source of the noise. Besides, I needed company. Man, did I need company.

Spooked was a good word.

I pulled into the lot, had to wait a half hour for them to open.

Some guy showed up, unlocked the front door, turned and grinned at me. His ears stuck straight out and he was missing most of his teeth. The top of his head was bald, the hair around his ears was long, almost down to his shoulders. Hell, he looked spooky, too. I was just thinking this was swell when he invited me in with that same stupid grin. The place was spotless, even the cages were spotless. The place didn't even smell like animals.

I wandered up and down the row of cages, looking for a huge mean fucking dog with slathering fangs.

Nothing really struck my fancy, then a little brindle female pit bull caught my eye, gave me a whimper. She sat there with those silly looking droopy eyes those animals have, and made complete eye contact with me. I stopped, held out my fingers close to the cage, she knew a way out of there when she saw it and licked my hand. Her cute little stub of a tail pointed straight up and wagged frantically.

"Cat goes with this'n." the guy said.

"Cat?"

"Yea, them's buddies."

Great. I looked, sure enough, there lay a scurvy looking yellow ball of fluff, busy as hell licking it's asshole and ignoring everything.

I hate cats. Well, not really hate. Well, yes! I hate cats, they puke on the floor, lick their asses and do nothing but sleep.

"Where did you get them?"

"Them b'longed to some young feller, got shipped off to war, got hisself blowed up over there, damn shame."

Just swell.

I started to turn away, the dog sat down and held up it's paw at me. I looked at her looking at me.

She won.

Just fuck!

My idea of a dog right at the moment was some big fucking 150 pound Rottwieller that was mean as hell and I could turn loose with no concerns at all of anything getting close to me.

Not some wimpy ass little 40 pound pretend pit bull that licked my hand and liked fucking cats!

"The dog's named Sam, cat's just cat, pick yerself sumpin I guess." He grinned, 3 front teeth poking past his upper lip.

He knew he had me.

Sighing, I told him I would take them, I figured if the dog could at least point out where the noise was coming from, bark at someone who showed up, that would do the job.

"So whatcha need a pup fer?"

I told him I had bought the stone house, wanted a dog around. He looked at me for a long moment.

"T'was some troubles up there years back." he offered. "Some folks come up missin'. Then there was a fire, coupla the ladies got kilt. Sumpin 'bout relatives looking for their missin' folk."

He grinned at me for a bit.

"Yep, Sheriff shut the place down, damn shame."

I paid him and loaded them into my truck, the dog hopped up and parked herself on the seat, tongue hanging out at the idea of being out of that cage. The cat surveyed the situation with a bit of a sniff at my truck, then hopped right in behind. It laid down between the dog's paws, barely satisfied but started licking itself, on it's asshole of course.