Jumping through a window with an injured leg is hard. Doing so while not making noise? It's much, much worse. Halfway through, I lost my balance and almost fell on my face, holding myself with one arm by the windowsill. But I did it.
'Getting in was the hardest part, now to find something to eat and, more importantly, water. Well, noncontaminated water.'
I pulled the window shut and drew the pair of curtains closed as well. The living room was small and in much better shape than the one in the previous house. Everything was silent and still, almost lost to time.
'Who lived here? Or... what? The furniture looks very expensive, but its proportions aren't human at all. The children's book depicted a child with very long arms...'
I pointed my flashlight up. 'God, what is that...' I shuddered.
In the living room, two armchairs sat at an angle around a small coffee table. In the middle of the table was a flower pot with dusty remains of a dead flower. On the wall opposite the chairs was a fireplace, and on top of it the reason for my sudden distress: an oval painting of a couple who looked not quite human.
The man on the left wore clothing reminiscent of a Victorian suit. He was clean-shaven with a protruding jaw; his mouth was large, much larger than a human's, and his eyes were big, almost owl-like, above a small hooked nose. His hair was black and slicked back. He could pass for a very ugly human, if not for his arm that extended down to his shins.
To his side, the woman didn't look much better, she had long hair and sharp features, whereas the man had a blocky jaw, hers was pointed. She was dressed every bit like a Victorian lady, in a long, frilled dress decorated with jewels. Her hair was braided into a long tress, with clear gems embedded in each knot... And even dressed like this, she just looked wrong, with even larger eyes, a very small nose and large mouth, her arms were interlocked with one of the man's, but they still extended all the way across her body and hugged her own waist.
'I hope they aren't supposed to be human... I also can't forget the long arms of that creature, or the sharp teeth.' Suddenly imagining the people in the portrait smiling at me with long pointed teeth sent a shiver down my spine.
'Forget it. That thing didn't have skin and they clearly do.'
I moved further in. Through an open doorway was a dining room, and through another doorway across the room I could see a hallway with stairs. To my left was a door, to what I hoped was a kitchen.
The opening door let out a long squeak, making me cringe. 'Why so loud!'
I quickly opened it the rest of the way... to the kitchen. It looked almost clean; if not for a layer of dust covering every inch of it, you wouldn't know if it was abandoned. Well, that and the smell of rot and the skittering bugs... Maybe you would know, actually.
Making my way in and stepping on some cockroach-adjacent bugs, I started looking in the cupboards. They were, unfortunately, infested. There was practically a carpet of insects over packs of what was once food. I was never squeamish, but this was too much. I kept looking.
The results after looking through over half the kitchen were disappointing. And reaching the last few cabinets, my hopes weren't getting any higher. It wasn't like all the cabinets were full of insects or anything, the first one I opened seemed to be one of two. Most of the others had pans and cooking utensils, I even found other knives, but none that looked better than what I had.
In the last pantry I found a bunch of sacks. As soon as I opened one, something that looked like a cross between a rat and a lizard jumped out and ran through the door I had left open. Recomposing myself after the scare, some unsavory thoughts went through my mind, it was maybe a bit soon for them to already let themselves in.
'Stop it, I'm not eating rats...'
I rummaged through what it had been eating: some sort of hard-shelled grain. The bugs hadn't gotten into it. Picking one up, I bit into it. It felt like biting into corn. Raw, uncooked corn.
I looked back towards the door, where the rat-thing ran through. '...yet.'
I picked up the sack of grain, It easily weighed about 5 kilos (about 11 pounds), and I put it in my backpack.
'I don't know if I can call that food without cooking it, but it's secured. Now I need water... Add to the list a way to cook and I'm set.' I went back and picked up a small pot, stuffing it into my bag as well.
At this point I had been ignoring it, but my mouth was dry. I was thirsty and the final third of my water bottle was looking increasingly inviting.
I got up, closing the low cabinets. There were sinks in the kitchen, so I turned them on... nothing. No water, no goo, just nothing.
'Damn it.'
I moved back to the living room. I picked up the portrait and placed it on the ground, facing the wall. I then proceeded to drop myself on one of the armchairs, massaging my temple, I needed to think.
'Where are the houses even getting the water from? Do they have water tanks or do they share a water tower?'
If the houses shared the water, then all of it was gonna have the black goo, if they had water at all. But if each house had a water tank... I might just have a chance to find clean water.
'I need to look at the roofs.'
My leg was very sore, but I knew it was only going to get worse with time. It hadn't even been a day since I got injured, in a day or two I might not even be able to move it; and I was practically out of water. If I was gonna get up on the roofs to check for water tanks... It had to be tonight.
I picked up my water bottle. I had turned off my flashlight after sitting down to conserve battery. I sighed... And took one, greedy gulp, swishing it in my mouth to make sure it lasted.
There was roughly another big sip left in the bottle. I had to make it count.
I got up and started going through the house again, I would flash the lantern into a room, give it a quick look, then turn it off and, using the walls as both support and guide, move on. After seeing an office and what looked like a servant's room, I made my way up the stairs. There was one master bedroom to the left, and, at the end of the corridor, a locked door.
Looking through the keyhole, there seemed to be... Tools... A workshop, maybe? I couldn't see well.
'It doesn't matter, it's not what I'm after.'
The stairs ended in this room, so there must be a way up into the attic. Scanning the ceiling with my flashlight...
I found a small rope. I couldn't quite grab it even after stretching, the house was made for someone with way longer arms, after all.
So I went to the trouble of bringing a dining chair, all the way up the stairs, while limping, trying to make as little noise as possible.
Finally, I climbed on it and pulled the rope. A trapdoor fell and a ladder started sliding down, but I caught it before it made too much noise.
Slowly, carefully, holding my phone with my mouth, I started climbing up.
In hindsight, I should have been more careful. I should have taken a better look and made less noise... But I was injured, thirsty, hungry and honestly, a little afraid of what was going to happen.
I had assumed the house was empty because it was locked... Shouldn't I have assumed the opposite? That it was locked because there was someone in it? Somewhere, a part of my brain had already decided that I wasn't gonna find anything here other than monsters, but, who said that? I shouldn't make this mistake again. Well... If I had the chance.
In the end, I completely missed the other set of footprints in the dust, right beside mine, until the last second, when my flashlight swung down after losing the footing of my injured leg. My brain made the connection instantly, my eyes narrowed to pinpricks.
A large six-fingered hand grabbed me by the collar and tossed me onto the dusty attic floor. A backhand hit swatted away my flashlight, sending my phone spinning on the wooden boards.
Before I could get my bearings, a knife pressed against my throat and two owl-like eyes glistened in the little light that bounced off the walls.
Looking straight at me.