LITMIR.BIZ

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when an icy-cold blast of air caressed the back of his neck, bringing him out in goose bumps and making him shudder. Afraid to turn around and look but even more scared not to, he slowly began to turn, his legs feeling as if they were too wobbly to hold his own weight. He hadn’t heard Annie or Alex come back down the stairs and if he strained he could hear their muffled voices somewhere above him. It took a lot to make Jake scared but the fear which gripped his heart was suffocating. He could hear someone breathing and he knew it wasn’t him. He turned the last bit and was so relieved there was no one standing in front of him that he laughed, but then directly behind him he heard the sound of long nails being drawn across the glass window pane and another blast of cold air on the back of his neck. He forced himself to move forward and ran to the stairs to find Alex and Annie, who were just about to come down. Annie took one look at his face and knew something was wrong.

      ‘What’s the matter, Jake—why do you look as if you’ve seen a ghost?’

      He shook his head, not quite knowing whether to tell her or not. She was supposed to be the psychic one, not him. Should he tell there was something scary in the house, or let her go on unaware? He didn’t want to be the one to break it to her that her dream house was haunted.

      ‘Nothing—I just scared myself and thought I’d come and see what you two are doing.’

      Alex walked forward and grabbed his arm. ‘Is there something we should know, Jake, because right now you look like you’re about to pass out from fright? I think Annie has a right to know if you’ve seen something that most of us can’t.’

      ‘No, honestly, I heard a scratching sound and then I got a cold shiver and scared myself. I hate to be the one to break it to you, Annie, but this house might have mice.’

      She laughed. ‘Mice I can live with, ghosts I’d rather not. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me anything?’

      He shook his head once more, feeling like a total wimp for not being his usual self and blurting it right out but if he spoke about it that might mean it was true.

      He led Alex towards the front door. ‘Come on, let’s go to the pub for a drink and something to eat, my treat.’

      Annie watched her friend, who was acting very strange—much stranger than usual.

      ‘I’m okay, thanks; I’ll wait here. I want to finish painting the master bedroom. Will said if he gets finished early enough he’ll drive up and help.’

      Jake nodded and stepped out of the front door and into the garden to feel the warmth of the sun on his face and he immediately felt better as it didn’t feel so oppressive outside. The builders were now standing outside the van and they nodded at Annie. Jake didn’t know if he should leave her alone but the builders were still here and surely they would be finishing their tea break any minute and going back to work. He leant down, kissing her on the cheek.

      ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?’

      ‘No, thank you; I’ve got too much to do here.’

      Alex kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear, ‘I think he’s finally freaked. I’ll ring you later if I need to get him sectioned.’

      ***

      She watched them get into Alex’s car and waved then turned to face the builders, who were still hovering by their van.

      ‘Is everything okay, guys?’

      The older of the two of them looked at her. ‘Erm…sort of. We’ve only a bit of plastering to do around the patio doors and the new electrics so we should be finished in the kitchen by tonight. Are you stopping here on your own, Annie?’

      ‘I am for a bit; I wanted to finish painting the bedroom. Is there something wrong?’

      For a minute it looked as if Callum, the younger of the two, was going to say something but then he thought better of it. She shrugged her shoulders, wondering why all the men were turning into total freaks, and walked back into the house, leaving the front door open so they might get the hint and follow her back in.

      The air was much cooler inside, which was a welcome relief. She went upstairs to what was going to be her and Will’s bedroom and began to take the lid off the paint. Before she could dip the paintbrush into the tin, the picture that she’d taken off the wall and placed on the chair toppled over with a loud bang, making her drop her paintbrush. She turned to look at it and wondered how on earth it had fallen. She walked across to pick it up and lifted it to see if it was damaged. She almost dropped it again, seeing the woman who had been barely visible a few weeks ago now in the centre of the painting, hanging from the front porch of the house, her head bent forward and hands dangling loosely at her sides.

      Annie blinked and lifted it nearer. How had that happened? Could a painting move of its own accord? She knew that in reality it couldn’t but still it chilled her to the bone because this one had and the woman was all too familiar: she looked like the one from her dream. She studied it. The paint didn’t look as if it had just been done; in fact it looked the same age as the rest of the painting. Annie put the picture down on the chair, puzzled as to how the woman had appeared and why she had been hanged from the front porch.

      She walked back to pick up the paintbrush she’d dropped. Annie needed to find out the history of this house and pretty quick, before they moved in, so she could make sense of it all. She pulled her headphones from her pocket and plugged them into her phone, scrolling through until she found her favourite playlist. Soon she was painting away, her head nodding in time to the music. She couldn’t hear the breathing that filled the room or the sound of long fingernails on the small panes of glass in the window.

      The builders, who were downstairs, on the other hand, were working faster than ever to finish the plastering because they could hear the breathing. Neither of them spoke until the older one, Eric, let out a grunt as an invisible pair of hands curled themselves around his neck and began pressing hard onto his windpipe. He stumbled backwards and ran towards the front door, his face pale and gasping for breath.

      Callum quickly followed. ‘What’s the matter—why are you choking?’

      Eric threw his head from side to side and ran out into the front garden. Suddenly able to breathe once more, he bent double, taking in huge gulps of air. ‘I’m not going back in there—something just tried to bloody choke me to death!’

      Callum, who was watching his friend, shook his head. ‘You’re having me on; it’s not even funny now.’

      They had left Annie alone in the house, oblivious to whatever was going on.

      ‘What are we going to do, Callum? We can’t just leave that woman alone upstairs in that house. What the fuck is going on? Someone was choking me! I couldn’t breathe… I swear I could feel bony fingers wrapped around my throat.’

      Callum shrugged. ‘I’m not going back inside; that’s it. First of all the tools kept moving on their own and a couple of times I heard voices telling me to leave, which I just put down to you lot messing around. But that scratching sound and the breathing is just too much… I’ve never had so many bad dreams in my life as I have while I’ve been on this job.’

      Eric nodded. ‘Phone Paul and tell him to get here pronto and then we better go back inside and tell Annie she needs to leave; it’s too dangerous in there.’

      Callum phoned their boss and began relaying the events of the last ten minutes to him. He ended the call and turned to look at Eric, whose face was still white.

      ‘Well, is he coming?’

      ‘He called us a pair of fucking fannies, said we were winding him up and if we thought it was a good excuse to knock off early we can think again.’

      ‘Cheeky bastard—is he coming or not?’

      ‘Yes, said he was already on his way here and only a few minutes away.’

      They sat in the van in silence, both watching the upstairs bedroom window, where Annie was busy painting away, too scared to go back inside unless

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