Darkhouse (Experiment in Terror #1) (6 page)

“Are you one hundred per cent sure that no one else came with you here?” he whispered, his low voice joining the static and traveling in waves down my spine.

I shook my head and tried to focus. Even if someone did follow me, there was no way they could get inside the lighthouse before me. Hell, I didn’t even know how Dex got in the place if he didn’t come through the window. I put that question aside for now. The thumps continued.

I eyed the window again and started to automatically move towards it. With him right beside me, he didn’t yield.

“We have to go upstairs,” he whispered.

I almost laughed loudly but caught myself. Was he fucking crazy? I wasn’t going upstairs, I was going out the window and back to Uncle Al’s where I could call the cops. If that got Dex in trouble, so be it.

He put his hand under my chin and tilted it up so that I was looking at him. It was OK. I liked looking at him.

“You’d be best to stay with me,” he said.

I couldn’t believe it. Part of me wanted to stay with him for some reason but the rational part knew that “some reason” wasn’t good enough. I shook my head violently.

“You? I don’t even know who the fuck you are. You give me a business card? I’m not going to be part of your rapist tower.” I said that last part a little too loudly.

He raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. I guess he was a bit taken aback.

“Go then,” he said slowly. “But once you are out that window, run all the way back to your uncle’s place. Don’t stop to look at anything. Even if you run into something, just keep running. It would be better if you just kept your eyes closed the whole way.”

My body was covered in chills as he said that. I was suddenly afraid to leave his side. He seemed to know a lot of things that I didn’t.

“What’s upstairs?” I asked. “Do you know?”

He shrugged, rather nonchalantly considering the circumstances.

“I have an idea. That’s why I’m here.”

“Why are
you
here?”

“I’ll show you,” he said. He reached down and grabbed my hand. With his other he hoisted his camera on his shoulder. He eyed my own camera around my neck.

“You may want to turn that on. It’s better if we get as many ways of recording this as possible.”

Well, shit, son. If there was a moment that determined the course of my future, I’m pretty sure this was it. I had two somewhat simple choices. I could make a run for it and go back to Uncle Al’s. Back to the bonfire where my cousins and dear sister would still be drinking and revel in the normalcy of a Saturday night and forget I ever went to this horrid place and ran into this weirdo. Or I could go with said weirdo up the stairs in this decrepit old lighthouse, which was most likely condemned and unsafe, towards some unknown person (or
thing
) that was walking around, potentially waiting to murder us in horrific ways.

It didn’t seem like a very hard decision to make. In fact, I think 99.7% of people in the right frame of mind would have picked from column A and gone on with their merry lives. But for some freaking crazy reason, I thought that maybe, just maybe I should go with this stranger up those kelp-ridden stairs and toward the lair of unimaginable horror. You know, because it was the more interesting alternative.

I turned on my camera with my other hand and let Dex lead me away from the fresh air and freedom, toward the monstrous uncertainty that was waiting for us further inside.

CHAPTER FOUR

Dex and I passed under the doorway as thin strands of cobwebs reached for us from above. We walked slowly to the staircase, listening for further noises from whatever was upstairs.

The stairs weren’t rickety like I thought they’d be but were slick with mold and seepage. The walls of the circular staircase were also wet and dark, fulgent in the sharp camera light, and there was no railing to hold on to. I followed Dex onto the first step and my foot immediately began to slide out from under me. Luckily, my Docs were fairly new and could grip like no one’s business. I was able to steady myself without having to touch the icky walls.

“You OK?” Dex whispered, his grip tightening.

I nodded, then made the notion for him to be quiet, even though whatever was upstairs already knew we were coming.

We rounded the corner. I was glad Dex was in front, though I doubted his slight frame had the ability to protect me.

But alas, when we reached the floor and shone our lights around there was nary an axe-murderer to be found. Couldn’t say I was disappointed.

There were two shut doors in front of us: One that led into the building like the locked one below us and the other, I assumed, would take you into a circular room overlooking the sea. Neither door had external locks on them, but I had no desire to see if they were open. The doorknobs looked wet and gross.

Dex looked perplexed, not relieved.

Suddenly, the door to the circular room swung open and banged against the wall loudly.

My heart leaped into my throat and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Jesus!” I exclaimed.

Dex didn’t seem too bothered. He let go of my hand and walked into the room. This man definitely had balls, if not brains.

I saw the camera light shining around the walls and then he came out again.

He gestured to the door. “Just a door.”

“What?”

“Making the noise. False alarm.”

“But I heard footsteps. Just like when you were up here.”

He shrugged. “I know. I thought I heard that too. But there’s nothing here, just like there wasn’t anything here earlier.”

He shined his light up the staircase. “I never made it up there, though. I bet that’s where he is.”

“He?” I asked, my chest tightening. Who the hell was he?

“Old Roddy,” Dex said simply and started for the stairs.

I reached out and grabbed his arm firmly. It felt nice. There was muscle under there after all.

“Who the hell is Old Roddy?” I said angrily. I was sick of feeling like I wasn’t being told the whole story.

Dex was silent. I shined my light in his face, causing him to squint harshly.

“If you don’t know then I don’t have time to explain,” he sneered in the brightness. He eyed my hand on his bicep. I didn’t let go.

“Make time,” I said.

Then, from above, another
thump
. This time much louder than before. It definitely was not the sound of a door banging in the wind.

Dex stiffened at the sound. He looked at me intently, then relaxed. I let go of his arm.

He leaned in and pointed above.

“Old Roddy is the lighthouse keeper.”

I didn’t get it.

“There is no lighthouse keeper here. My uncle doesn’t employ anyone, there isn’t even a damn light up there,” I said.

“Yeah, well, rumor has it that Old Roddy’s been here all this time.”

“All this time? How long is that?”

“About eighty years, maybe more, maybe less.”

“That’s impossible,” I scoffed.

“I know. Like I said, that’s why I’m here.”

I took in a slow, deep breath. Whatever Dex was saying wasn’t making any sense to me, and even worse, the more I tried to make sense of it, the more I felt dizzy and disoriented. This situation, this Dex guy, it was all too much for me to process. And unfortunately, when my mind couldn’t properly process what was going on around me, my panic attacks start to kick in and weird shit happens.

“I need to go lie down,” I said quietly.

He cocked his head, curious, and reached out for my hand.

He didn’t give it a comforting squeeze, though, which any normal person would have done. He just pulled me closer to him and led me up the next flight of stairs until we were now on the floor above, where the last few thumps had come from.

With my breath and heart stuck in my throat, Dex illuminated the level. It looked exactly like the one below it, save for a desk in the corner. The doors were also closed. And no lighthouse keeper was to be found.

Suffice to say, I had a bad feeling about all of this. Whether it was due to the creepiness of the whole situation or that I should probably head back before people started to worry about me, I couldn’t say.

Plus, I was starting to question the sanity of Dex and his quest for some lighthouse keeper who clearly didn’t exist.

“You know—,” I started to say.

I was interrupted by the door, which blasted open (by itself again) and swung back and forth wildly on its hinges, connecting against the wall with a BANG.

“What the fuck?” I yelled above the noise. It was literally the only thought I had in my head.

Dex took a curious step towards the animated door, the breeze from its steady swinging movement ruffling his hair.

He aimed the camera on the door for a few moments, the eerie glow adding to the mystery, and then shone it on me.

“What do you make of it?” he asked.

The light was blinding me.

“Are you seriously filming me?” I yelled.

BANG!

The same sound of doors flying open and shut came from downstairs. The noise was overbearing and within seconds the whole lighthouse was vibrating sonically. I immediately put my hands over my ears. I could feel it in my fillings.

I took a shaky step towards Dex hoping for some comfort in a beyond-terrifying situation. The only thing he did was aim the camera back on the door, which was still flying open and closed as if some invisible angry teenager was slamming it. He took my hand off my ear and placed my own camera in it.

“You might want to film this!” he bellowed above the din.

Though filming was the last thing on my mind, I did what he said.

I made sure the camera was still recording and focused it on the door and Dex. With my ears exposed, the sound shook me from the inside.

I managed to record at least thirty seconds of the phenomenon until my vision was suddenly wiped out.

A white, overpowering light filled the room. My hand completely disappeared in front of my face, as if I was being airbrushed into oblivion. I shut my eyes in pain and crouched low on the ground, my senses knocked completely off balance.

The white, nuclear light, the banging doors, and internal vibrations—was this the apocalypse?

I positioned myself so I was closer to where I assumed Dex was and opened my eyes through the spaces between my fingers. It hurt too much to keep them open for more than a second at a time, but I didn’t see him anywhere.

“Dex!” I yelled as loud as I could. I looked around me but all I saw was whiteout. Where was this horrid light coming from? Was I dying?

A movement from the direction of the staircase caught my eye. There was a dark shadow of a man (or creature) wavering in the light. It came closer and closer. My mind instantly conjured up images of alien abduction. Every single
X-Files
episode started flashing through my mind.

The shadow kept coming. For some reason I thought I should get the cause of my impending death on film, so I pointed my camera at it.

I closed my eyes, made a silent prayer and braced myself.

But…
silence
.

The noise and vibrations had stopped and the light behind my sore eyelids was quickly fading.

I opened my eyes to complete blackness, with throbbing fuzzy dots filling my vision. It was almost scarier than all white blindness. Someone could have been standing a few feet away from me completely undetected.

Slowly, I got to my feet and flicked on the light of my camera, bracing myself for illuminated terrors and the things that went bump in my night.

There was nothing. The darkness remained. My camera was unresponsive.

“Fuck,” I swore under my breath. I tried to examine it in the dark but all I could figure was that the battery must have died. Great fucking timing.

I took in a deep breath and tried not to let the wild feelings take over, that the blackness was alive and ready to eat me.

“Dex,” I called out. I was still, listening, but heard nothing except my voice echoing across the hallway. Where the hell could he have gone?

“Old Roddy?” I joked, half hoping some decrepit lighthouse keeper would answer me. It was better than this unnerving silence.

There was still some moonlight coming in through the windows and that soft illumination was enough to put the idea in my head of getting downstairs and getting the fuck out of there.

I had inched over to the staircase and was just about to step down on the first step when another light came on below.

What now? I couldn’t take much more of this.

But it wasn’t like the apocalyptic virtual H-bomb going off. It was a weak light, which danced on the staircase walls and then settled in one spot. If I were to head downstairs, I would walk straight into its path.

It reminded me of Dex’s camera light. In fact, I was certain that’s what it was. But in my heightened state of paranoia, I wanted to make sure before I began my descent.

“Dex, is that you?” I asked rather loudly. No answer. “Dex, I can see a light downstairs. Is that coming from you? Dex, answer me!”

Still nothing.

I didn’t know what to do. The fear was palpable; it was physically running up and down my arms in prickly flashes, swarming my body, flaming my racing heart and my throbbing head.

I must have stood there for five minutes just listening for any sounds whatsoever, terrified of what I might find downstairs. My imagination was conjuring up images of kelp come to life, like some kind of monster. Where was Dex then? Where did he go? Why was the camera light on and not moving? One part of me believed he must be playing a cruel joke. The other part thought he was dead. Or worse.

And with that thought in mind, I slowly made my way down the stairs. I winced at the creak of each step, though I’m not sure why I bothered trying to be quiet. The moon disappeared behind the clouds, making the light below look sharper and colder. Sly shadows of creepy crawlies skittered across the sweating walls. I turned at the landing and made my way down the rest of the staircase.

The light was now in front of me on the ground, aimed at my feet. I stopped, wishing I could see beyond the glare.