Silent - The House Abandoned

Crazy move. Philippa back in my life.  She hadn't meant to hurt me yesterday, she insisted at our hastily arranged meeting in the fields after the dress rehearsal. Aidan had emotionally blackmailed her.  He'd managed to confuse her. Since then, she'd decided to end the relationship with Aidan for good because it kept going around in circles, and Aidan had already left for Exeter.

'Come on,' Philippa said, taking my arm and pulling me up from the tree trunk. 'I bought a torch with.'

It was about quarter to six in the afternoon. We located the outhouse, the one Jace and his mate Steve had sprung out from a couple of nights ago. We climbed in through the empty window space and spent some time together in the vast echoey space with its flecks of dust and damp atmosphere, the light from the torch casting shadows on the wall. We fell asleep, surprisingly, Philippa by me on the bumpy dirty floor, a smile playing on her lips.  I'm not sure how long I slept for; it seemed abrupt. My sleep was troubled, full of disjointed imagery and a hint of panic. I thought I heard someone, a man in the distance, calling my name, his voice unexpectedly soft with a singsong lilt, and I came to with a jolt, surrounded by stillness and cold and darkness, my heart thundering in my chest. Terence Harlesden calling me.  

His voice disappeared and I realised I'd been dreaming. I couldn't work out where I was at first, or why. My neck and back were sore from lying on a concrete floor. The dark merged with the smell of mold and blocked drains, and I heard the flapping of wings above. A bird or a bat, and no torch in sight. I freaked out, jumping to my feet and stumbling around in search of an exit, away from the flapping sounds.  

'Philippa?'

No answer.  She'd gone. Once I'd retrieved the phone, I climbed out through the empty window space, struggling to see without a torch. Philippa was so unbelievably selfish. She could have at least woken me to say she was off.

It was about seven thirty in the evening and pretty oppressive, headache weather. Crossing a patch of grass and weeds, I started towards the path that led through the fields, the one that Jace and Steve must have taken the other evening when they jumped me.  Nearby, a rabbit lay dead, insides exposed. A minute later, I passed another dead rabbit.

Footsteps.

I turned expecting to see Philippa.

No one.

I crossed a stile where a third dead rabbit lay on the ground.

Stepped round it.

Footsteps again.

I swung round, looked in all directions.  

A branch snapped nearby.

And then another.

'Hello?'
  
I reached the next stile. Climbed over.  Further ahead, a fourth rabbit lay on the ground with its insides ripped out, blood still dripping on the grass.

A fifth rabbit, dead.

I saw something else. A knife on the ground coated with blood and the remains of rabbit.

And then, I heard the footsteps again.

Not hanging around for this, no way. I legged it diagonally, running as fast as I can, panting for air, refusing to stop until I reached the rear alleyway to the House. Perspiration streamed down by forehead and face, stinging my eyes, and I thought I was about to topple over from exhaustion and lack of food. I took gulping breaths that hurt my chest and listened out for more footsteps, more snapping branches.

From the outside, the back of the House appeared deserted. A breeze whispered in the trees, soft like the man's voice in my dream back at the outhouse, and I saw the rabbits again, lying dead in the grass, butchered while still alive.

I went in, locked the main door.  The entrance hallway was deserted. Just one light on in one of the music rooms and the lid of a concert grand piano opened high, as if someone was about to give a performance.

Aidan. I noticed him then. He was sitting alone in the room with a book on his lap. Philippa had told me he'd gone back to Exeter earlier.  Another lie, and I'd fallen for it. He lifted his head and stared at me. No expression in his eyes, even though he'd run off crying yesterday when he'd found me with Philippa.  Could he have…?

Ignoring Aidan, I went up to Philippa's room and knocked on her door.  No one came to the door. I returned to the music room, but Aidan had gone. Everything silent. I phoned Jace.  No answer.    

I went back upstairs again.

'Awww,' I screamed near the top of the stairs.

 A pair of hands gripped me around the waist, travelling up to cover my eyes. A knee lodged in my kidney, forcing me back, and I found myself half-falling, half thrashing out in self-defence. I tried stamping on the person's foot, but they sensed the intended move and twisted their foot away from mine. A hand clamped down on my mouth. 'Shut up,' a voice whispered. 'Or it will be twice as bad for you.'