A Wicked House

This week's story is kind of a short one. But that's okay. That's what this is about, right? It was a busy week but I am already working on next week's story. I hope in the meantime this one creeps you out!

A Wicked House

The lure of the woodlands was what enticed me out that day. The forest trees, a play of shadows and light with an earthy odour that could not be denied. I sensed that the day would be memorable and threw on my jacket and hiking boots after downing the last gulp of my tea, and proceeded out into my own backyard. My own backyard, as of only a week ago.  

 The house had been purchased to accommodate me in my new employment, relocated to a new town of unknown fates. The town was different, far away from everything I knew and understood. To be honest, I had always led a sheltered life so I saw this as a chance for a new awakening of something within that had been perhaps lying dormant. The house was part of that awakening. I chose it in my mind before even entering.  

 It sat on the edge of town, where the forest met the fields. It would be a bit of commute into the office back and forth from the steel and glass, but well worth it for the escape it would provide. A chance to wander and explore the countryside on evenings and weekends. I was excited at the thought of meandering along country lanes, tramping about across the fields, but most of all the idea of long walks through the trees. Today, a Saturday free from work, was to be the first of many. 

 I looked out at the trees as I took that first step off the back porch. They bordered the backyard like the wall of a fortress, about to be breached. I headed forth, looking to see if there was some sort of path or trail. It was to be expected that a house of this age next to the woods would have numerous trails heading off into it and it wasn’t but a moment before I found what I was looking for. 

 I thought of animals. What would be here within these trees? Deer or small rodents I imagined would be plentiful in this part of the country. Good I thought. Perfect for me and my plans. I stepped into the trees, excited again by the smell of the earth and pine needles. Soft earth, nice for digging I noted. Wonderful and as far as I could tell the trees were thick and the path did not look well worn, but more overgrown. Unused for a number of years most likely.  

 There were a number of rocks about and as I walked, I gathered a handful. Nice round ones, worn smooth. I paused and listened to the birds, watching the sun play through the leaves. It was nice and I enjoyed the solitude here that I could not find most of the time and I spun around, arms out, feeling the sun on my face. I threw one of the rocks at a tree in the distance and it was as the rock ricocheted off of it, breaking the silence that I first noticed the squirrel. 

 It was because the squirrel did not react to either me or the rock was probably why I noticed it at all. Not the slightest hint of movement in it at all as it sat in the middle of the path some distance away. A large black one. Where I lived before, the squirrels were grey. Grey and skittish. This one was large and black. Something odd altogether. looking at me like I was the intruder. Me looking at it, wanting to claim this land as my own now that I had entered. I felt anger rising in me. 

 “Hey you get!” I shouted and stomped my foot. Nothing. It just looked at me with its’ black empty eyes. Weird. It was an affront to me that this animal would not run. I suddenly remembered the rocks in my hand. Selecting the largest one, I hefted it and said, “You better get. Or else.” 

My rock plonked that squirrel right between the eyes. I never even thought about it leaving my hand. I ran forward and grabbed it up by the tail. It was gasping, breathing harshly in and out. I watched, dangling it in the air from my outstretched arm, fascinated. I thought about how this symbolized my claim on this land. I set the squirrel down, placing my boot on it’s head. Slowly, slowly I pushed downwards with my foot. The earth was soft, but soon I felt, or did I hear as the animal’s skull popped. I brought it home. 

 This was the first day. The day I came and took my land. This was the day I first killed. There were many to follow. So many animals. I was right in that there were a lot of deer. I brought everything home, but was never satisfied. The house was never satisfied with what I brought. I brought the earth smell inside too but it was not enough.  

 That was when I began to stop on my commute. Restaurants, bars, small shops. Whatever I felt like that day, any old watering hole or place that caught my eye. I am very good at what I call playing people. I wonder sometimes if I am people. When I play people, I am very good at making people want to be my friend. So much so, that they want to see my house. I tell them how I walk in the fields and wander the woods. I paint a picture in words about what a beautiful property I own and I invite them in. They never like the earth smells, though they all stay. They all stay in my wicked house.