The hinges of the old Sedan creaked as you pushed open the door. You ducked your head, pushing yourself out of the indented seat, a gust of fresh autumn wind slapping against your cheeks as you pulled yourself upright.

"This is it." your friend slammed the door shut, resting her arms on the hood of the car.

You followed her gaze towards the building in the distance. Although it was nearly midnight, the golden-white beams of moonlight were sufficient in illuminating the obscure estate. It was an old building, constructed in the traditional French Victorian manner, which caused it to stick out rather sorely amongst the surrounding neo eclectic neighborhoods. It’s siding was a frayed shade of black, ashy, as if it someone had set fire to the once rich brown panels. Vines of ivy laced around the walls, spreading across the windows like a virus. It’s pointed roofs towered above the town, a thick fog looming over their wet shingles. The house was quite a distance away due to the long cobblestone driveway, which was almost entirely obstructed by the surrounding  foliage. Arms of trees reached out, clawing at the air, wanting to free themselves of their roots. Newly fallen leaves covered the stones, not a single one raked to the side. The grass grew wild, untrimmed and untidied for an unnoted amount of time.

"Do I have to do this, Mari?” you turned to your friend, adjusting the red sash tied across your waist.

"A bet’s a bet, ______. I painted the pentagram in the cemetery mausoleum, now you have to go in there." she pointed to the ominous castle, "Or should I just tell everyone at the party you forfeited?"

You shook your head in defiance. “No! Just… tell me what I have to do.”

She grinned, making her way around the car to stand beside you. “Well, you see that window?”

She pointed to a small dusty semicircle at the very top of the house. “That’s the attic. All you’ve gotta do is get there and take a picture of the window. As proof, you know.”

"What about the police? It says ‘No Trespassing’." you nodded towards a dusty old sign hanging from the gate.

"Don’t worry. This isn’t exactly a hot spot for trick or treaters, so they won’t make their rounds here."

You wrung your hands nervously, glancing once more at the towering estate. “Are you sure this place is abandoned? There’s no… tape or boarded windows or anything.”

"I’m sure. The place has been empty for years. From what I’ve heard, it’s belonged to the same family since it was built. Passed down through the generations, you know?” She folded her arms as a breeze danced through the air, “But the last descendants died decades ago.”

Your throat grew dry. “How?”

She shrugged. “There’s a bunch of different legends. Some people said they were murdered. Some people say they murdered each other. Hell, it could’ve just been a disease. Who knows, right? But what I do know, is that the attic is where they all died. Or, at least, where their bodies were found.”

She chuckled mischievously as your face flushed. “Still wanna go?”

You glanced at her and nodded resolutely. Mari skipped up the incline, grabbing on to the wrought iron bars of the gate. With a firm pull, the old gate came ajar, a low, heavy creak drumming through the air as the metal grazed against the asphalt. You dragged yourself through the opening, your knees shaking as you looked back at your friend.

"Don’t worry." she sighed, "I’ll be right here when you get back."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Don’t close the gate, ok?"

"I won’t."

"Keep your phone on."

”_______! Just go!”

You nodded, making your way up the winding path. The piles of dead leaves crunched beneath your boots with each step. You kept your eyes on the floor, careful to avoid tripping over stray roots and branches. A fine mist clouded the atmosphere, chilling your skin. You crossed your arms over your chest, grateful to have chosen a pirate’s costume instead of the other, more conspicuous ones you’d considered.

As you drew closer to the house, it’s features became more clear. Indeed, the house was rundown.  The shingles were falling off in some areas, worn down with the weight of the infecting moss. The windows were all covered in a thick veil of dust and grime, their once clear glass now a peculiar shade of yellow. The staircase leading to the deck was tattered and worn, even broken in some parts to reveal the bushes of weeds growing beneath the foundation. You held on to the damp rail, climbing quickly and delicately so as not to collapse the entire porch. Upon finding your footing, you lingered before the door. The silver lion’s head on the knocker stared down at you, almost daring you forward. You looked back, unable to see the path that led you there as the fog began to rest on the ground.

"Mari?"

You waited. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Suddenly, your phone lit up with a text.

"Did you get inside yet? "

You glanced back, squinting your eyes in hopes of catching sight of your friend. Another message popped on the screen.

"Hurry up!"

With a sigh, you took ahold of the knocker, hitting it twice on  the heavy surface. A stifling silence followed. You slid your hand down the cold wood, resting it on the glass door knob. With bated breath, you turned the handle, pushing the door open.

Cologne. It was the first thing you noticed upon entering. The house smelled distinctly of a rich perfume, hints of musk and vanilla coating the air. You breathed it in, the warm scent calming your nerves. As you closed the door, you turned to take in the building.

While the outside was withered and worn, the interior remained nearly untouched. The walls were covered in faded navy wallpaper with intricate mahogany borders lining the corners. The floors were constructed of the same wood, although significantly rougher due to lack of maintenance. Upon the ceiling rested a colossal chandelier rimmed with gold filigree, the crystals glistening even through a number of cobwebs. You inched forward, getting a glimpse of the formal living and dining rooms. Plates remained set upon the long table, the couches uncovered, everything clouded by a thin layer of dust. It was as if the house was not abandoned, but simply dormant, awaiting it’s owners’ return before it would surge back to life. There was, however, one item which stood out, indicating that the estate was, indeed, abandoned. As you approached it, a chill ran down your skin, raising the hairs upon your neck.

In the living room, just above the ashy fireplace, was a portrait. The frame was blackened with charcoal, only a few small hints of it’s original gold texture visible. The portrait illustrated a family attired in formal suits and dresses of a time perhaps four or five decades ago. To the left was an elderly man, his skin pasty, the lines on his leathery face forming distinct shadows. He stared into the viewer with a pair of beady gray eyes, the coldness in them apparent even at a first glance. Just below him was a woman, very near his own age, sitting with her hands laced delicately upon her lap. Her skin, at least a shade darker, was painted with the same heavy shadows, her laugh lines particularly deep. Her eyes, unlike her husbands (at least you presumed he was), were deep and dark, looking, not forward, but to the side, a glimpse of sunlight reflected in the black pupils. Just behind her, was another woman, much younger. She faced forward, every muscle in her body seeming to stiffen. Her lips drew in a thin line, her face reflecting a strong resemblance to her father, although her eyes held the same wistful darkness of her mother’s. Just beside the young woman, was a tear, deep and rough in the canvas of the painting. The frayed edges stood out, almost falling from the frame. With a shaking hand, you lifted the torn fabric, revealing nothing but the curtain of the background, as if the artist had abandoned his work halfway through.

 You took a step back from the fireplace, feeling the eyes of the family boring into you. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew through the room. You jumped, covering your mouth instinctively. Goosebumps covered your flesh as the room chilled to an astounding degree. Had you left the door open?

You made your way back to the main hall, only to find it fixed in it’s frame. A patter of footsteps sounded from the living room. You turned sharply, holding your breath in search of the sound.

You turned back to the hall, letting out a shrill scream as a pair of deep onyx eyes met your own. You tripped back, colliding with one of the loveseats, a cloud of dust bouncing into the air.  His eyes widened at the sound of your cry, as if surprised by your shock.

"Who are you?" you gasped, your legs trembling beneath you. The boy took a step closer. The dark tresses of his hair swept over his forehead, touching the thick fringe of his lashes. He stared down at you, his soft lips pouting into a frown.

"Who are you?”

“Who are you?” Your voice shook, “What are you doing here?”

"I live here."

You took a moment to process his words. Live here? He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants. “What are you doing here?”

You ran a hand through your hair. “You live here?”

He didn’t respond. You felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

His gentle brows curved in confusion. You looked to the floor. “I- I thought this place was abandoned. I was just-“

You stammered, meeting his eyes. His features seemed to soften. The glimmer in his irises darkened, faded away as he turned to look out one of the windows. “Abandoned?”

You nodded, although he wasn’t looking. “It’s been empty for years. At least, that’s what we thought.”

"Who’s ‘we’?"

You bit your lip. “Everyone, I guess.”

His face distorted. He nodded, a thin veil of water coating his pupils. He blinked them away quickly.  You took a step forward, stopping yourself before you reached out to him. He ran a hand through his hair. His voice was broken as he spoke. “If it’s abandoned, why did you come?”

You fiddled with the sash of your breeches. “It was a bet.”

"A bet?"

You nodded, your voice dry, “I had to take a photo of the window. The one in the attic.”

He looked up at the staircase outside the hall, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. He remained silent.

"I’m sorry." you bowed, "I wouldn’t have come inside if I knew-"

"I can take you there."  

Your eyes widened. Had you heard him correctly? You glanced over his shoulder at the exit. “Uhm, it’s okay. I think I should just go.”

You made a move towards the hall.

"Don’t-"

He held onto the sash of your belt. As quickly as he’d reached out, he retreated, jamming his hand back into his pocket. “Let me help. You want to win your bet, right?”

You lingered by the arch, your eyes flitting between the door and him. You laced and unlaced your fingers nervously. “I guess.”

"Come." he swept past you in the blink of an eye, "There’s a ladder to the attic upstairs."

You obeyed, trailing close behind, as if you might lose him. The staircase curled in a chamber, each step creaking in defiance to the weight of your feet as you made your way up. The entire house now seemed to be chilled, causing you to hold onto yourself in an attempt to retain what little heat you could. The young man remained silent, his back turned to you. You felt the silence weighing down upon you with each awkward creak of the wood.

"I never got your name." you spoke out, hoping to ease the atmosphere.

"It’s Kai." he replied without looking back. "You?"

”________.”

He nodded, ending the conversation before it could start. Your eyes wandered over the musty ceiling, taking in the small details of the corridor. “You have beautiful home.”

He turned, only halfway, the look of surprise on his face quickly turning to a placid smile. You felt your breathing shallow.

"Thanks." He turned back around. "I try to take care of it…"

"Just you?" you kept your eyes down to avoid tripping, "What about your family? Don’t they live with you too? I thought that was them in the portrait."

He didn’t respond. You bit your lip. “Uhm- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

"I do live with my family. But that’s not them."

"Oh." you replied quietly, as if your voice alone might irritate him. "Sorry."

"You apologize an awful lot." He turned just enough to meet your eye, a small curve on his lips, "It’s okay. I’m just not used to the questions."

"Why?"

He shrugged, facing forward again. “My parents are really… strict, I guess.”

"You’re not allowed out much?"

"No, not really." He shook his head, his voice getting low, barely louder than a whisper. "Family comes first, you know. That’s what they always told me."

You hummed in understanding, glancing out one of the small windows. “But where is your family now then?”

Again, he fell quiet. You didn’t prod any further, concluding the topic to be a rather delicate matter. Instead, you focused on his back, taking in the broad shape of his shoulders, curving in, forming a cave around his heart. The warm fabric of his sweater fell over his shoulder blades, accentuating the the curve of his spine. His feet nimbly stepped upon the old wood, making hardly a sound in comparison to your heavy climb. His hand  trailed along the walls,  the sleeve of his sweater riding up just enough for you to notice the dark marks on his wrist. Your heart grew heavy. Indeed, it was a delicate matter.

"Here." he stopped at the top of the stairs, turning to offer you his hand. "The last step is shaky."

You slipped your hand into his, almost flinching back at the sheer iciness of his skin. He pulled you up, helping you to avoid the unstable step, his other arm holding on to your waist. Once you’d found your footing, he let go, leaving your skin still tingling where his skin had touched yours. He spared a moment to meet your eyes, glancing just long enough for your cheeks to redden before he turned away.

The second floor hall was quite narrow in comparison to the main floor, which made it easy to find the camouflaged door on the ceiling. Kai reached up, pulling the rope shoved in the crevice. The rusty hinges groaned as the door gave way. A small climbing ladder fell from the opening, dangling in the air. Kai steadied it, pulling once, then twice to ensure it’s sturdiness.

"I’ll hold it." he said, motioning you towards him. "You climb first."

You eyed the rickety steps, feeling your legs turn to jello beneath you. “Are you sure? I mean, it doesn’t look too safe.”

"Don’t worry."

His voice was calm, ensuring. It was difficult not to comply when he spoke with such sincerity. You swallowed your nerves, sizing up the opening.

"I’m right here. I’ll catch you if you fall."

He smiled gently. You nodded, quickly grabbing onto the ladder to hide the blush creeping up your neck. With a firm pull, your climbed the stairs, pushing yourself through the small hole in the ceiling.

"Are you all right?"

You scrambled to your feet, brushing the dust from your breeches. “Yes.”

You took in the setting before you. The attic was large, much larger than the hall beneath, and corroded beyond anything you’d seen downstairs. Whilst the main floor was maintained and relatively clean, the attic was decrepit, covered in thick veils of cobwebs and dust. The beams upon the roof hung ominously low, eaten away by age. Boxes piled in the corners, covered with tattered rugs. Broken frames and ancient toys sprawled across the floor, long forgotten in the shadows of the storage. Foreign stains tainted the shrunken wood beneath your feet. You recalled the tale your friend had told you. You took a step back, bumping into someone’s chest.

"Careful."  Kai put his hands on your shoulders, "The floor’s a bit worn."

You nodded, planting your feet firmly on the ground. “Sorry.”

He ignored your apology, motioning towards the window. “Are you going to take the picture?”

"Oh. Right."

 You fumbled around, retrieving your phone from your pants. You slid it open, pulling out the camera setting as you positioned yourself before the window, searching for the appropriate angle. Kai watched silently, resting against a set of boxes a few feet away.

"Can I ask you something?"

You hummed, taking a step to the right in order to catch the moonlight.

"If you thought this place was abandoned, why did you come by yourself?"

You tampered with the settings on your phone. “It was part of the bet.”
 
"But isn’t it dangerous?" he took a step forward, "You could’ve been hurt."

You brushed a strand of hair away from your face, your cheeks flushing. “My friend’s waiting outside. I would’ve been fine.”

He frowned, his full lips pouting outward. “What about your parents? Wouldn’t they worry?”

You glanced at him, fighting back a grin, “What they don’t know won’t hurt them, right?”

He scoffed, looking away, a boyish smile lighting his features. He bit his lip. “I guess so.”

Once satisfied with the position of the camera, you took the photo.

"Is that it?" he reached your side.

You nodded, inspecting the photo . “It’s kind of silly isn’t it? All this for a bet.”

"Only a little." he mumbled, leaning in to see the picture. You felt his breath, icy cold, against your neck. You took the opportunity to observe his profile as he gazed down at the screen. His rich onyx eyes glimmered with the reflection of the photo. The soft curls of his hair shined beneath the moonlight, his lips, soft and ruddy, curved into a subtle smile. You found yourself fixated on them, wondering if perhaps they were as cold as the rest of him.

”_________!”

You both shot up, focusing on the window. Another muffled scream sounded from behind the glass.

"What is that?"

You took a step towards the window, wiping away the dust.

”__________!!!!”

You squinted, pressing your hands against the glass. In the distance, you recognized the silhouette of your friend. Her hands were gripping the bars of the closed gate, shaking the iron. She screamed again.

"It’s Mari." you turned to the young man, panic dripping from your voice, "I have to-"

"No! Wait," he held onto your arm, a look of pure fear in his eyes. "You can’t-"

Suddenly, the door burst open, the tattered wood colliding against the walls as a surge of wind stormed into the room, broken frames flying in all directions. You stumbled back, losing your balance. A loud crack shattered your eardrums as you felt the glass behind you crumbling. You closed your eyes, preparing for the fall when a pair of cool hands gripped your wrist. Your body fell forward, landing against the thick fabric of Kai’s sweater.

"Come on."

He climbed down the door in the floor, holding his hands out to urge you forward. You slipped through the hole, falling into his arms. He quickly took a hold of your hand, leading you down the steps.

"Don’t let go."

As you reached the foot of the stairs, the wood caved in, catching the sash of your waist. You fell against the floor, your phone shattering against the rail. Kai bent down beside you, placing his arm around your waist. With a firm tug, he lifted you up, the ribbon of your belt tearing off.

"Are you okay?" his voice shook.

You nodded, holding on to your side. He let go, helping you stand on your own.

"Can you walk?"

"Yes."

He frowned, taking note of the blood dripping from your ankle. You bit your lip.

"You have to go." His voice quiet, speaking the words more as a request than a command. "My parents…"

His fingers traced the skin of your hand, his features contorted in worry, making him look like a child. You furrowed your brow. “Aren’t you coming? The house is gonna collapse, you can’t stay-“

He shook his head, the fringe of his hair falling over his eyes. “Just go, okay?”

You gripped his hand in defiance, ignoring the chill of his flesh. He returned the gesture with added pressure, leaning in to brush the hair from your face. You felt your skin crawl at the frigid touch of his fingers against your cheek. He took notice, his brows knitting together. With a soft breath, he pressed his lips against yours.

Warmth. All you could feel was the warmth, the heat of his lips as he grazed your own, pressing with longing, holding on to you as if you might disappear any moment. The familiar scent of cologne hugged his skin. You breathed it in, feeling his hands caressing the nape of your neck, pulling you closer, pressing your body against his. He sighed into the kiss, pulling away as slowly as he could. His eyes flickered open, running over your features, drinking them in, embedding them into his memory.

"Go."

You nodded lamely, as he gently pushed you away. Your legs shook. You stumbled towards the door, turning back, only to find him already gone. Another loud crack from the attic brought your attention back to the danger approaching. With a shaking hand, you gripped the glass handle, turning and pushing against the wood. The door remained firmly in place, showing no signs of giving way. You pushed with more force, banging against the mahogany.

"Mari!" you whimpered. Your arms trembled, the energy draining from your veins. You felt a cold pressure against your neck, stifling your breathing. "Mari!"

The  designs upon the door began to blur. You leaned against it, closing your eyes, feeling a warm hand graze your cheek as you drifted into unconsciousness.


********************************

”_______!” Mari screeched, running up the incline, “I’m telling you, this is stupid!”

You pressed your hand to the large lock wrapped around the wrought iron gate, frowning.

"Whatever you saw- or think you saw- It’s not worth it to get in trouble with the cops again." she spoke beneath her breath, rushing her words as if an officer were hiding in the bushes.

You gripped onto the bars of the gate, pulling yourself over, being careful to avoid the spikes lining the top.

"I didn’t think I saw it. He was there, with me, the whole time.”

"The cops said themselves the place was abandoned!" she groaned, "How many times do I have to say it before you believe me? You were passed out on the floor when they broke the door down, you probably dreamed it!"

 ”He had a name, Mari, and a family, and his wrists…” You bit your lip, recalling the fear in his eyes as he spoke of his parents. “You don’t just dream that up.”

"Yes. You do. Do you really think it’s more likely that he actually was there, living in a dump like that?

"Mari, stop it." you sighed, "I’m going in whether you believe me or not. Besides, I left my phone in there."

"So get a new one!"

You shot her a glare, turning to make your way up the path.

"Hey!" She scrambled to jump the fence, "Wait! I’m coming!"

You both hurried towards the house, the cold breeze of the coming winter dancing through your hair as you climbed up the old porch. The door, which, according to your friend, had been knocked down, was now replaced in the frame, hanging from a single hinge. You carefully pushed it open, slipping into the house.

You breathed in the air deeply. The scent of cologne was gone. Instead, the room reeked of rotting wood and moss. Your eyes wandered over the hall, a sick feeling in your stomach. Was this really the same house you’d seen before? The wallpaper was faded beyond recognition, ripped from the walls in large areas. The bordering was eaten away, the intricate designs now nothing more than bulges of wood. The floors were cracked, torn, and dried out. The chandelier was nothing more than a rusted frame, not a single crystal in sight.

"See?" Mari said, her voice gentler this time, "It’s abandoned. It’s been like this for years, _____."

"No," you shook your head, "It wasn’t."

”_______, come on, let’s just go.”

You ignored her, making your way through the hall. “Kai?”

”_______!” she began to whine, “Leave it alone. I’m telling you he’s not here.”

You stepped forward into the living room, the churning in your stomach growing heavier by the second. The dining table was broken, shards of wood sticking out from the center. The plates were nowhere to be seen. Dust coated the chairs and couches in thick layers, the fabric of the cushions torn apart and frayed. The fireplace was deteriorated, the stones falling from their place into the pit. There was, however, one item which stood out, indicating that the estate was, indeed, still occupied. You approached the mantle, your throat tightening. The frame of the portrait was sparkling. Not a speck of ash remained on the gold design. The old man stared outward, his eyes shining with satisfaction, a bitter smile curling his lips. The empty space was now filled, painted over in intricate . With a shaking hand, you lifted the ripped canvas, a small gasp escaping your lips.

He stood there beside his father, a firm hand gripping his shoulder, holding him in. His brow knit together, the same look of pain, of sadness, distorting his features as when you’d last seen him. His rich onyx eyes stared out yearningly. His hair hung in swoops over his forehead, casting a shadow over his olive skin. He wore the same sweater as before, now torn, revealing the bruises on his flesh. Your eyes fell down to his hands. Your heart sunk. There, clutched between his slender fingers, was a rectangular box, the screen shattered, wrapped delicately in a red sash.