The Ruin - Charles Lankiwicz (if you liked this book txt) 📗

The Ruin

 

 

 All contents Copyright Charles Lankiwicz, 2019.

This is a work of fiction and any resemblence to any individuals or locations is accidental.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jim and Joan Latti pulled up in their car in front of the house that Jim had inherited from a distant relative. It was an old Victorian house in need of repair, but still basically sound. It had two stories, a widow’s walk, bay windows on the bottom floor and gables at the top. Gingerbread abounded on the porch, which had some badly warped boards. It sat in a clearing some two miles from the highway to Wayneville, Massachusetts, a small rural town. Dense forests surrounded it on all sides. The woods were dark, and dense and seemed to want to swallow up the house. Only at noon was it brightly lighted from the sun. The yard around the house had high grass and weeds.

“Well, what do you think honey?” said Jim. Jim was thirty two and lean. He was a writer working on his latest detective novel. His last book had brought in enough money for him to take his time on the next and quit his job at the advertising agency. He felt that a place in the country would be perfect for that reason.

Jane put her hands up in the air and said: “What do I think?

Why it’s a perfect dump. Why you would want this I cannot figure.”

Jane was also blond and quite attractive, though she was beginning to put on some weight.. Her occupation was that of a business consultant and she did much of her work on line, only occasionally needing to go into the office.

“Well we’re here–so let’s go in and check it out.”

They went up the steps which creaked loudly. Jane felt a sense of something almost trying to warn her, but shook it off.

“We’ll need some work, but it’ll be fine when I’m done,” said Jim. “It’ll be good to get some time in working with tools and seeing something happen instead of computers.”

They stopped at the door and Jim pulled out a set of keys given to him by the real estate agent who had taken over the place after the death of Hosea Dearborn, Jim’s distant uncle.

“I wonder why they would even need to bother locking it up,” said Jane. “Who would want to come here–there can’t be anything inside worth stealing.”

“You never know–there could be junkies needing a place to shoot up.”

“Out here–unlikely.”

The door unlocked with an ominous crack and something seemed to fall inside the house. They both looked at each other.

 

 

 

 

 

Jane felt a chill run up her spine. There was something about an abandoned house that was just spooky. But then she remembered getting an almost similar feeling when she had moved years ago and going back to the place to pick something up and experiencing a odd feeling looking at all the empty rooms, even though she had spent much time in them.

“Probably just something leaning up against the door,” said Jim as he opened it.

A dank smell issued from the dark interior, causing Jane to step back, holding her hand to her face.

“Phew, it smells as bad as it looks!”

“It just needs aired out a little–its gone now,” said Jim as he entered and turned on the light switch.

“Well, I’m glad that works, at least. Or maybe I shouldn’t be,” said Jane as she looked dubiously at the interior.

Old patterned wall paper hung in the hall, peeling off in spots. Above was an old fashioned light fixture with cobwebs hanging from it. Another odor infused the air.

“It’s still here!” said Jane.

Jim glanced up and said, “its dust on the light fixture. The bulbs heating it up–it’ll go away in a minute.”

They were in a hallway with two large double doors leading to left and right and a staircase leading upstairs. The rug was worn and holes existed in spots. The floral pattern wallpaper added to the gloom with its dark maroon color with yellow flowers.

“It’ll be OK honey. I’ll fix it up. I’ll have plenty of spare time to do so and I’ve always liked doing this kind of thing. Gives me a sense of accomplishment to brighten things up.”

“I think it’s a dump. We should just sell it.”

“Let’s give it a try Hon,” said Jim with that note in his voice that Jane knew meant he was determined on it. She knew that it would lead to an argument and she did not want that. In recent months they had been arguing increasingly often. Their relationship was undergoing a strain and she did not want to make things worse.

“OK then,” she said as she walked down the hall to something that had caught her eye. It was a wooden carving set into the wall with a demonic head having pointed, curved horns and long fangs. Also carved were cruel talons set into wings. It sent a chill through her just to look at it. The eyes seemed almost to be watching her.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” said Jim.

“Your uncle had some gross tastes in decoration–this is seriously weird!”

“OK honey. No problem. But this piece must have been here before he bought the place. Maybe it’s worth something. I’ll check at an antique store. You have to admit that the carving is good–somebody put a lot of effort into it and with skill.”

“Who would want to!” said Jane as she looked down at the floor and saw a narrow opening. “The walls need sealed. Look down there.”

“I see,” said Jim as he bent down to look, his hand brushing the carving.

Something went click and the carving receded into the wall.

Another blast of musty air came at them and they could see a small room with a single chair and table with books on the surrounding shelves. Jane coughed as Jim turned on the light switch. Revealing a single large book on the table. It was very old, bound in some kind of leather, and closed with iron clasps and an antique looking padlock. In the center of the book was a large ornate N.

“This could be a treasure trove! Some of these books look to be hundreds of years old and could be valuable,” said Jim.

“Well one thing I know for sure is that they’re damned dusty. If we look at them first without cleaning them, we’ll choke to death,” said Jane.

“We’ll look at them later–come on let’s see the rest of the house.”

On one side of the hall was a large living room, and on the other an equally large dining room. They went into the living room. Everything was coated in dust and very antique looking. A large portrait on one wall caught their eye. It was of a man dressed in clothing from about the time of the Revolutionary War. He appeared to be in his forties and had dark hair with particularly piercing eyes. The eyes seemed to stare right at them and follow them around the room as some portraits seem to do.

“He has to go!” said Jane. “I am not going to have him staring at me every time I come in here.”

“Granted. But let’s see who it is. If it’s somebody well known it could be worth something. It must date from about George Washington’s time.”

“Ebenezer Hadley. Well the name doesn’t ring a bell–still, it’s another item to check as an antique.”

Upstairs there were four bedrooms and Jane was glad to see another bathroom. Everything was dusty, but intact. No windows were broken.

“Well, we can live here for awhile at least,” said Jim. “Some of this old stuff is definitely worth checking out. If it’s valuable it may well be worth a good sum.”

Jane nodded reluctantly. She knew that she could never be comfortable here, but that Jim was determined and she would have to put up with it at least for awhile.

“We’ll have to get some cleaning supplies and...” said Jane.

“Wait. We still have to check out the basement,” said Jim.

Jane felt a chill go through her. If the top of this house was this creepy what would be down there. “I think we can skip that,” she said.

“Nonsense. We have to go down there at least to check the hot water tank and furnace as well as the water shut off valve.”

When they came to the cellar door. They found it secured by a large padlock.

“I wonder why anyone would bother to lock it from the inside,” said Jim as he pulled out the keys the real estate agent had given him.

The usual blast of musty air reached them when the door opened. But when Jim tried the light switch, it didn’t work”

“Damn! Let’s hope it’s just a bad bulb. I’ll check it out later with a flashlight.

Jane felt relieved that they would not be going down there.

They spent the rest of the day doing some cleaning and stocking the refrigerator with supplies they had bought in Wayneville. Both then set up their computer equipment. Before they went to bed they had a quick meal consisting of packaged sandwiches and cans of pop.

“Don’t look so down, Hon–it’ll work out. We’ve already made a good start setting up.”

“I still feel like I’m living in a mausoleum and that dank smell is still all over.”

“That’s because no one been here a long time. After awhile it’ll go away and there’s always air freshener.”

Jane smiled ruefully and said: “What is the theme of the book you’re now writing?”

“I haven’t decided on a title yet but it concerns this old house and it has a secret.”

“I can see why you like this place then.”

“It’s perfect. It’s why I brought us out here.”

 

Later that night Jane lay awake in their bed. Jim was fast asleep and it never seemed to bother him to do so in a strange bed. Jane always had a much harder time doing so. And today was no exception, even though she was tired from their work.

Then she heard a sound like a faint creak, like a door opening. She froze and her breath stopped momentarily. She felt like awakening Jim. But she did not want to do so unnecessarily. If there was nothing wrong, he would be kidding her endlessly about it.

Another sound came, like a skittering, something moving. She clutched the bed covers tightly. It seemed to be coming from downstairs. She started to reach her hand over to Jim, but stopped, thinking. Maybe its just rats. This house is old and we just brought food in. Another thing is that old houses shift on their foundations, so maybe the other sound was due to that.

I’ll have to get some rat traps in town she thought and what I’d like to do is get a cat. But I’d only do that if we were going to stay here.

Then another thought struck her forcibly, what if it wasn’t rats but people–home invaders! She remembered terrible accounts of what had happened to people when they where isolated and attacked by criminals. Living out in the country gave peace, no noise, pollution or annoying neighbors. But it also gave criminals an opportunity to commit crime without witnesses . At the very least they should try to get some good lighting outside and maybe set up some cameras. Possibly even a gun. Even if they had one they didn’t know how to use it. Neither of them had done any shooting in their lives. But if they were attacked out here, how would they defend themselves?

The sounds weren’t repeated and eventually she fell asleep.

 

The next morning she told Jim about the sounds. He replied: “It’s just an old house–you’ll hear noises like that all the time. About home invaders, I wouldn’t worry too much. In this part of the country we’re well away from the big cities and