House Bound

Chapter 7 - What Lurks Below

       I struggled to make out figures in the mirror before me. I could tell that the other feeds were still active, but the shapes of their inhabitants were vague in the dark. I waited for the video to switch to the same night vision clarity as last night when the lights were turned off. After waiting another beat without change, it seemed that it was purposefully being left obscure and grainy.

       Within the shifting mass of grey-black pixels it was impossible to make out what was happening. I squinted at each section, straining my hearing for any noise at all.

       The monster could be anywhere, and it had been lurking mere steps away from where I knew Luke, North and Silas were - where all the boys were. They couldn't leave, they were trapped there. Waiting. Wondering.

       What if it came for them next?

       I could feel myself growing lightheaded, a sudden chill seeping into my spine and racing outwards until it sunk into every cell of my body. I couldn't do anything for them, I couldn't even be sure they weren't already dead.

       I waited in the darkness, in the silence, anticipating the worst. A living boy would scream if an axe were buried in his spine. If they were hurt I would know it, I would hear something. Yet every prolonged second of silence only ratcheted up my terror, allowing no relief. If I knew anything, it was that things could change in a moment - that you could never afford to be complacent.

       So I sat in front of the flickering mirror, helpless to stop the images of blood and glinting metal from shuttering through my brain while I tried to numb myself.

       With my knees pressed hard into the floorboards and my nails digging into my scalp, I wasn't sure I'd ever wished so strongly to be back with my family in their home. I wanted the small security of my own room and it's lock-pin that I could control. I wanted the routine of my life. Uncertain as it sometimes was, I knew every creak and whisper of that house. I knew the sound of my mother's heavy movements, of my sister's hushed conversations on her contraband phone beneath her blaring radio, the creak of the front door as it shut behind my father in the early hours of the morning.

       I wanted safety. I wanted comfort and reassurance. No member of my family had ever offered me those things, but my pitiful craving led me back to them anyway. I guess the naive child in me still thought that maybe after everything that had happened, my parents would finally show their love for me as a daughter. They would have to be relieved to have me back safe. Or Marie and I could bond over this experience, maybe eventually becoming the sisters we used to be when we were little.

       I thought of the too-casual touches I'd received from the boys. How many times had they comforted and reassured me without any thought? They had tried to protect me even when they had no way of protecting themselves, and never seemed to want anything in return.

       Thinking about them only brought me back to my despair. Were they all dead now? Part of me wanted to be brave and help them, but I knew after watching what had happened to Rocky that I'd be worse than useless. A liability again, if not simply dead. 

       There was absolutely nothing I could do, and the helplessness was suffocating. 

       I thought of what I'd seen in the basement. A monster. That's what I'd thought. But if I was being rational, I knew it was just a person doing monstrous things. My first impression was probably a male, but the dark clothes hadn't given much indication of their figure or colouring. The mask gave no clue about features, and a hood had obscured any hair the same way. 

       They were obviously involved in our situation - but I couldn't assume they were working alone. This seemed too elaborate to be organised by one person alone. What frightened me most was the thought that this butcher lived in the basement and could choose to rise above at any time. Considering the chips in our heads, we probably wouldn't even have a chance at fighting back. We could be 'switched off' and made defenseless.