ASWANG

Chapter 9

A powerful gale of dank, suffocating air attacked their nasal senses when they entered the house. Laurent closed the door and the hinges protested and crooked after a long period of unuse. Inside was no better because there were no heat systems and only half of the windows were left hanging, but at least they were sheltered from the rain. Someone lit a candle, thereby illuminating the room for the others to take a view.

A set of rotten, broken stairs rose to meet the dark landing. The space they were in was probably the hall. Long planks of decaying wood were piled along the blackened wall. The only furniture seen was a dusty old armchair facing a cold fireplace.

Mr. Blake and Laurent laid Hera's quilt on the chair and placed Ian on it. His face had gone ashen and throbbing, green veins bobbed on his temple. The bandage which had been tied around his broken leg was wet and matted with blood and rain. Every now and then he glanced warily around and muttered, "Stop running little girl. They are going to hurt you."

The others attributed it to high fever and the severe pain emanating from his leg. But, Eleanor understood. She knew Ian was not mad because she'd seen a similar apparition as he had.

Eleanor wrapped her bare arms about her and embraced the meager heat of the hall, wishing she had worn a more suitable attire rather than a white vest -- now marked by dirt -- , khaki shorts and loose fitting Converse so as not to pickle her sore ankle.

Speaking of shoes, she looked to the floor. Everyone had their wet soles imprinted on the dusty floor. She counted; there were nine tracks in number if you counted Mr. Blake's too. Ian hadn't walked, so his tracks were missing.

Eleanor glanced fearfully up the stairs. The upstair doors were sealed tightly shut from intruders. All of a sudden something clanged on the floor. She yelped and hid behind Olga. A shadow flittered on the wall. It was a big, chimney mouse. They sighed in relief but Molly was still boiling in anger.

"You worthless piece of scum," she pointed her finger at Eleanor, "you think it's funny to be pulling jokes now? Dang you got us all spooked because of a mouse!"

"This is not the time for insults and sarcasm Molly," Laurent cautioned, his eyes flaring up in anger.

The muscles of Molly's face crunched up in fury. "Excuse me! You dare to defend her in my face? I am your girlfriend and you've got to support me no matter what!"

"Just because I've tolerated you all this while doesn't mean I'm your puppet."

The room had gone quiet now and was listening intently to the drama unfolding. Baloney's jaw had dropped comically and had it not been the live soap opera and their current dilemma, Eleanor would have laughed her tonsils off.

Molly screeched, "What?"

"I tolerate you Molly. There's a vast difference between that and love."

Sita and Baloney palmed their lips and giggled. Olga mouthed an Ooooh, and Hera had a confused and angry expression on her face mirroring that of Molly's. Mr. Blake busily tried to reach coverage with his cellphone and Guisseppe sat unmoved.

Molly raised her arms to deliver a hefty slap but Laurent held her in mid air. He gripped her hands, "I'm not lenient so do not tempt me."

She withdrew her arms and screamed, "I'll make sure you pay for this or I'm not Molly Giselle."

Sita muttered with a frown, "Is that another clique name or what?"

****

The house was silent. Most of them had dozed off on a blanket spread on the floor. The rain hadn't stopped and Kendrick and Mr. Owell hadn't yet arrived.

Eleanor knelt beside Ian and wiped the sweat off his face with a handtowel. He was seething hot at the feel and somewhat shivering at the same time. He pried his eyelids open and smiled weakly at Eleanor.

"You believe me, don't you?"

She nodded.

He sighed. "You didn't laugh when the others did. They think I'm gone with high fever, but you, you know better. You've seen something haven't you?"

Eleanor bounced her head again. "I have. In this very own house."

"Yes I've seen them too. They're watching us with black malice in their cold eyes."

He gripped her shoulders in sudden panic, "They'll kill us all! They whisper murder! Gho..."

"Ssh, ssh," Eleanor soothed and patted his heaving chest, "believe me we're going to be fine."

Something caught her eyes. The wax of the candle was melting and waning away, but still she noticed. Under the dim candle light, soft footsteps were beginning to trail on the dust particles settled on the floor. Eleanor's heart missed a beat as she stood and counted their foot tracks once again. It was nine before, but the number had multiplied to ten...no wait,...eleven, twelv... Oh shi...

She swiveled around when Olga screamed. His hands were to his neck, gasping for air. He was strangling himself! Eleanor squinted. No,...no,no,no. It wasn't him. He was been held by an unseen force and he was struggling to free himself.

Eleanor jumped to his aid. She was almost to him when a strong force threw her off gravity and high into the air. She landed with a thump on the cemented floor and a crack on her waist joint.

A/N: Hi everyone:) Who's enjoying the story so far? Is it spooky enough or should I add more water? Tell me what you think.

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