The House that Fear Built, page 1
The House that Fear Built
by Kelly Martin
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
THE HOUSE THAT FEAR BUILT
Copyright © 2021 KELLY MARTIN
Cover Art by P.S. Cover Design
Edited by Tia Silverthorne Bach
To you for picking up this book.
Not to Doris Marie Hillard: She scares me.
PART I:
THEN AND NOW
CHAPTER ONE
THEN
“This is a stupid idea.”
The guy sitting next to me in the backseat of my best friend’s Charger isn’t wrong. It’s dark, way after my curfew, and insanity is happening all around me. Okay, not all around me. In the front seat, my BFF—ne, former BFF—is smiling and giggling with her boyfriend, Justin. Justin is in the passenger seat being stupid himself, joking and acting like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s had a bit too much to drink which is one reason Julie is driving.
Julie and Justin.
High school sweethearts… for all of one week.
“You’re not wrong.” I cross my arms and scoot down farther in the seat, annoyed by how the streetlights are getting farther and farther apart. That means we actually are leaving town; we actually are going to the place I never wanted to go.
Hillard House.
All because Justin wanted to take Julie, and Julie wanted to take me, and I have no idea why the dude next to me is there. I know I’m there for protection. The best friend who has to stop Julie from doing anything stupid.
Except we are doing something stupid like driving down this road to a condemned house so obviously I’ve not been doing my job well.
“Adam, dude, this house is sick. Freaky as all get out.” Justin leans back and smacks my sullen companion on the knee.
“Then why are we going?” I blurt out cause I’m me, and I blurt things.
From my vantage point, Justin’s head appears to turn like an owl’s. He blinks a time or two through his red and glazed-over eyes like it has just hit him that someone else is in the car besides his friend and his girlfriend. I’m more of a fourth wheel in this situation.
“Me and Julie are going cause it’ll be fun, and Adam’s going because he’s not a chicken. You’re going because Julie felt sorry for you.”
“Justin.” Julie smacks Justin on the arm, light enough to be playful but stern enough for him to know that wasn’t called for.
“Ow.” He babied and turned himself around in his seat.
“I brought you, my sweet Mina, because you need to get out of the house and have some fun.”
“Yeah, cause riding in a car with strangers to the most terrifying house in the state past my curfew and on a school night when one of us has been underaged drinking is real fun.” I mumble. I hate this.
I swear Adam or whatever his name is smirks at me.
I don’t have time for that smirk. I’m inwardly kicking myself for even agreeing to go to Hillard House. I agreed because I’m an idiot. Maybe the real stupid one in this car to be honest. I’ve always had Julie’s back. Always. Ever since I moved in during first grade and she stood up to Bea Jones, the meanest kid in our class. Bea called me Fat Mina and told me where to go, and not in a kind way, and Julie told her where to go, in an equally unkind way. After that, I had taken care of Julie, and I don’t mind it. Not at all. She really is my best friend, and even best friends can make mistakes.
Like dating Justin Keller.
No, I guess that’s not fair. Justin is okay. I’m just grumpy. Long day at school. Long night out. Tomorrow may prove to be equally as long.
I sound so boring.
And old.
Adam leans over toward me. My muscles tense because I don’t want him close to me, not really. I mean, he smells nice, and he keeps his hands in his lap like a gentleman; still, I have a boyfriend. His name is Matt, and he’s amazing. Amazing as in he leaves me alone and doesn’t text me very often. We’ve never even been on a real date, but he’s fine. I’m fine. We are all fine.
What was I saying?
The tickle of Adam’s breath on the skin of my ear brings me back to exactly what I was saying: he’s incredibly close to me and I have a boyfriend. “Justin’s not so bad once you get to know him.”
“He’s drunk.” I remind him with my own whisper. “And seventeen.”
“He’s had a few beers which, yeah, isn’t great, but cut him some slack. His parents have been going through a lot.” Adam says this part in an even lower whisper, which requires him to get even closer to my ear. My skin betrays me, and goosebumps pop up and down my arm.
Matt, I remind myself.
“Here it is,” Julie announces before Adam can talk to me anymore about how great Justin is and blah blah blah. She barely has the car in park before I roll out and slam my door. I pull my cream-colored sweater around my midsection tighter and bury my hands in my pockets. Even though it’s barely September, the nights here in Tennessee have gotten cooler. I wore the sweater to be safe. I wore a short-sleeved black shirt underneath in case I got too hot, which can happen. My jeans are the biggest size they carry in the local store. I think they only order up to that size for me. That’s fine. My shoes are sandals, which I instantly regret as I look at Hillard House.
I’m going to step on a nail and die.
Stupid idea.
As I stand there gawking at my location for the next however long, the wind picks up, blowing Julie’s long blond hair around her face. She pulls it back into a high bun and smiles up at the house. I swear, she’s never met anything she’s afraid of. “It’s amazing.”
If it were opposite day.
“See, I told you.” Justin pulls Julie into a huge side hug and plants a kiss on the top of her head. Julie and I are total opposites: she’s thin as a stick with skin that tans beautifully in the summer. My skin burns under a lamp.
Adam’s door closes, and I glance at him. He’s staring up at the house, the wind blowing his unruly brown curls around his head. His hands are in the pockets of his black jacket. The biggest thing I notice is that he appears unimpressed.
Good for him. I’m slightly terrified. Not about the house. I don’t believe in ghosts or anything. Not really. I’m worried about so many other things: trespassing, getting caught, making my cop brother upset, breaking my curfew…
It’s too late now, though. Julie and Justin are approaching the front steps.
Adam is following behind them, kicking at the rocks as he passes.
And then there’s me. Standing there like a statue, letting this three-story, Victorian style monster get the best of me.
“Coming Mina?” Julie turns toward me when she and Justin get to the large, old red door welcoming us to Hillard House.
Justin doesn’t glance at me, but Adam does. “I’ll protect you.” He doesn’t even say it with a hint of sarcasm.
“As if I need it.” I scoff, though inwardly I appreciate it. I force my chin up and march toward Hillard House. I can do this. It’s just an old house.
What’s the worst that an old house can do?
CHAPTER TWO
NOW
I’ve not left the house in a few days. My older brother, my guardian, is worried about me, but I can’t make myself care. If I care, then I’ll feel, and if I feel, then I’ll cry. If I cry… I may never stop.
I didn’t go to Julie’s funeral.
I didn’t go to the courthouse when Justin was charged.
I haven’t talked to my boyfriend, probably because he hasn’t messaged me.
I haven’t talked to Adam.
I haven’t done much of anything except pretend to eat and pretend to sleep.
That’s a lie. I’ve done a lot of other things. I’ve tried to process what in the world happened in Hillard House. How it went so wrong? The police, aka my older brother again, keep asking me the same questions, and it all comes back to the same thing. I don’t know. I don’t know what made Justin go off. I don’t know if it was planned beforehand or did he “just snap”. I don’t know.
I’m sitting on my bed with the light lavender comforter that I’ve had since I was eight, hugging my knees to my chest and staring out of my bedroom window at the world outside, the world that isn’t the same now that Julie isn’t in it. Nothing is the same. My room isn’t the same. This room with my collection of stuffed animals, lavender walls, and rainbow posters is a child’s room. Maybe when I went into that house, a part of a child remained inside me. Now, I don’t even remember who that person was.
There are a few clouds in the sky today. Other than that, it’s beautiful blue skies and very little humidity. Julie’s funeral will be over soon. I’m sure the entire junior class is attending. Julie was pretty popular. Almost as popular as Justin. He doesn’t get to go, though. His bail hearing hasn’t taken place yet.
Absently, I run my fingers lightly over the cuts and bruises on my knuckles. It’s been a week, and they still haven’t healed. Not completely. I wonder if they ever will. I wonder if I will.
It’s funny even when you don’t leave your house, you can still hear things.
There’s a knock on my door. I know who it is, so I don’t even look. My brother hasn’t left me alone for more than thirty minutes at a time since he came and picked me up from the house after the “incident”. He was furious that I’d snuck out, of course, but he was even more worried about my safety. Being the chief of police will do that to a person, I suppose.
“I’m fine,” I say without looking. It’s my motto now, one that I will repeat until the end of time. Maybe someday I’ll actually believe it. Maybe if I say it enough, I’ll even have myself convinced.
My door creaks open. I still don’t look. I know what my brother looks like with his dark brown hair that’s got a few wisps of gray in it. Our Dad went gray early too, so my brother was prepared. Not prepared enough to get some hair coloring, but whatever. It’s his hair and his life, and he can do whatever he wants to with it. Just like me. It’s my life, and if I want to sit here and mope, then why shouldn’t I? I’ve been through a lot of trauma in the last few years.
“Mina.” He says my name like he’s said it a couple times before and I simply didn’t hear him, which could be true. I tend to block him out sometimes. I don’t mean to. It’s kind of a habit.
“Gray,” I answer. It’s short for Grayson, but I’ve never called him that. Chief Grayson Wright. My big brother by fifteen years.
“Mina, look at me.” Why he cares, I don’t know, but I sigh and do as I’m told because I’ve sworn to him that I’ll be a good girl from now on. No more running away at night and sneaking into abandoned houses—to be fair I’ve only done it the once and that turned out bad.
When my gaze hits the doorway, my hands slip from my knees, and I nearly roll off my bed. He’s not alone. Freakin’ Adam is with him.
Adam, who pulled me kicking and screaming from the house.
Adam, who held me until help arrived.
Adam, who hasn’t called or checked on me since—not that I want him to.
Justin’s best friend, Adam.
“Bad time?” Adam has the audacity to ask.
“Is there a good time?” I grumble and try to compose myself. I don’t need him here with me today. This is a day to mourn Julie, not to talk to the best friend of the boy who killed her.
“Adam asked if he could talk to you,” Gray says. As the police chief of this one light hamlet, it would have been proper for Gray to go to the funeral. But since I didn’t go, he stayed with me to keep me company.
And what a lot of wonderful company he’s keeping.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” I turn back to the window. The church bells’ melody sweeps through my window, and I try awfully hard to focus on it. On the music, not what it means.
“There’s a lot to talk about,” Adam chimes in, like he has any right.
“Go be with your best friend,” I say like a curse as I glare at him. “I don’t need you here.”
I expected him to at least sound a little hurt. Instead, he doesn’t even flinch. “Mina. I need to talk to you.”
What had Adam done, really, to annoy me? He pulled me out of the house and held me until help came. So why am I so mad at him? Oh yeah, because I’m mad at the world.
“Fine. Five minutes. Officer, you may go,” I add for my brother’s benefit.
I wonder what Gray thinks of all this. He has his normal stone-faced expression and pats Adam on the back. “If you need me, yell.”
If Adam needs him? Really?
Gray leaves the room, and here I am alone with Adam. I don’t even know his last name, and I don’t need to know. “They are burying my best friend today.”
“I know.”
“And you’re here to talk. How inconsiderate can you be?”
“Not to state the obvious, but you didn’t even go to her funeral. How inconsiderate can you be?”
My cheeks burn, and I want more than anything to throw him out. I already feel enormous guilt from not going. That will never go away, but Adam can’t understand. Nobody can understand.
“Get out.” I order.
“Not until I say what I’ve come to say.”
“I’ll tell Gray to kick you out.”
“He let me in,” Adam reminds me.
“I don’t care what you have to say.”
“Aren’t you at least a little curious?”
“Curious about what?” Currently, I’m curious about why I’m even talking to him.
“Curious about what really happened in that house.”
That’s it. I’ve had enough. I scoot off the bed, a little wobbly from the lack of eating, and march right up to him. I come up to about his chest, maybe a little below. I probably look like an ant to him—a tiny, mad ant.
“I know what happened in that house. And so, do you.” I stab my pointer finger into his chest to make my point.
Again, he doesn’t flinch. “I don’t, and that’s the problem. Don’t you want answers?”
“I have answers.” I turn and storm toward the window. The cool breeze soothes my burning cheeks and, hopefully, my temper.
“Are we just going to pretend that what happened, what really happened, what we saw, didn’t happen?“
“It didn’t.” I blink as a tear falls down my cheek.
“It did, Mina. And we have to prove it. Justin deserves for us to prove it.”
“He killed Julie. Justin doesn’t deserve anything.” Another tear drips from my cheek. My words have lost their fire, though. I know what Adam is talking about, and I hate it.
“We both know that’s not what happened.” I hear my door shut ever so gently just as footsteps come after me quickly. It reminds me of the house, and suddenly I’m there. I’m on the second floor. I’m running.
Running from him.
CHAPTER THREE
THEN
Julie is giggling, and Justin is laughing. The only thing I can see is their flashlight—thank goodness we got them out of the trunk.
Adam and I have stayed near the door. I’m not sure if we have the same idea or if neither of us wants to go in any farther, but here we are. Standing around while our so-called friends go off to do whatever in the house.
My stomach turns when I think of whatever. They’d better not head off to… I shiver. Surely Julie knows better than that. This is a cesspool of bacteria and tetanus. We will be lucky if we don’t get staph just by being in here, much less getting… naked… in here.
I wish Matt were with me, which, I suppose, isn’t a weird transition. We’ve been going together for longer than Julie and Justin but aren’t at the same stage in our relationship. We aren’t even in the handholding stage. We sure aren’t in the kissing stage. I want to be. He doesn’t seem interested. I try not to take it personally.
I catch a glimpse of a light going up the rickety stairs and nearly jump out of my skin. “Julie! Don’t go up there. The floor could fall through.”
“Only if you were with us.” Justin, dear sweet drunk Justin, laughed.
I heard Julie smack him on the arm which I guess is supposed to be her punishment for making fun of me. “It’s fine, Mina. We are just exploring. We’ll be back soon.”
“If you hear any strange noises, do NOT investigate,” Justin adds before the flashlight disappears, and Julie giggles.
I’m starting not to like either of them.
So, here I am, stuck down here with Adam, a guy I’ve only talked to today, and we are supposed to wait down here while things happen upstairs. He has his own flashlight and I have mine, so I decide to make the most of a bad situation and explore the first floor a little bit.
From what I can tell, the house was pretty at one time. There is cream-and-gold wallpaper in one of those Victorian designs. I wish I knew the name of it. To my right is an open—and very dark—room. I can see the outline of what I think is a fireplace and maybe a chair. I’ll go in and investigate in a few minutes. To my left is another room. Another fireplace. In front of me are the infamous stairs Julie and Justin went up. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I think I’ll take Justin’s advice and not go up there. I don’t want the floor to fall through, and not because I’m bigger than Julie by about fifty pounds, I literally would be afraid of the floor falling if I was half the size I am simply because this is an old house.
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