“Let’s get the fuck out of here. This place is giving me the creeps.”
“Let’s check out the rest of the rooms, then we’re out of here,” Jack answered.
On the way out of the office, they dumped a few items that looked of value into the pillowcase.
When Jack turned to go to the back of the house, Roland grabbed his arm and said, “We have enough. I’m telling you, let’s go.” Jack hesitated for a beat. Then said, “All right. Let’s roll.” As they were walking down the steps, Jack said, “You gotta pop grandma. No witnesses, dude.”
Roland didn’t respond. As he walked down the steps, he kept his eyes down. He didn’t want to see anything appear that wasn’t really there.
At the bottom of the steps, Roland felt something pass by him. He spun around as if he’d been touched, and grabbed his pistol from the small of his back and slung it out, but there wasn’t anyone there to shoot at. He swung around again and pointed the pistol between Jack’s eyes.
“Whoa!” Jack shouted and ducked out of the way. “What the fuck, dude!”
“There, there, there was someone there. I felt him, her, it.” Jack eased Roland’s arm down. “Get a grip, Ro, and put the fuckin’
gun away before you get us killed...”
Roland put the gun in his pants at the small of his back, and turned in a circle a couple of times before being convinced they were alone. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that they were not alone in the hallway. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being stalked. Something was with them, breathing down his neck. He felt it. Like tiny insects crawling across his neck. It felt like his sister’s cat, always staring at him as if he wanted to eat him. He hated that damned thing. He hated this place. And he hated Jack for not listening.
“Come on, let’s wrap this up,” Jack whispered. He then started down the hall. Roland hesitated for a beat, waiting to see if he felt that hot misty breath on his neck again, then followed Jack to the kitchen.
When they arrived in the kitchen, Steliana was lying on the floor, looking at the door with a deadpan expression until Roland stepped in. She smiled up at him and he froze with an expression that said he had to have her.
“What the fuck, Ro, I thought you wanted out.”
After a couple beats, Roland responded, “I know man, but damn, I can’t seem to help myself. I gotta break me off a piece of that.”
“Then drag her ancient ass upstairs, do your thing, then pop her,” Jack said with a look of disgust. “I’ll go through down here and see if there’s anything else we can take...” He shook his head and continued, “We hit the mother lode and this asshole loses it...”
Just as Roland bent over to pick up Steliana, the basement door groaned out a long drawn out screech and both men stared at the door for a long beat before Roland whispered, “You go do your Ranger thang one more time, and this time you pop him in the head. I’ll take care of grandma.” Jack started for the door. “No witnesses, Ro.”
Roland bent down again to pick up Steliana and froze. He could have sworn her mouth and nose had been bleeding, but now it was as if she had never been hit. Furthermore, there wasn’t a drop of blood on her or her clothes. He turned to Jack but Jack was already going down the steps, and when he turned back to Steliana, she clamped her eyes shut, feigning unconsciousness.
“Okay, grandma, I know you’re awake.” She grinned. “All well and good, grandma. Up on your feet.”
Steliana reached out her hand and while Roland pulled her to her feet she said, “I’ll do anything you want, just please don’t hurt me.”
“I know you will, grandma, now hoof it up the steps.” She turned and started down the hall. “Just to let you know, I’ve never had kids.”
Jack stopped at the bottom of the steps, stunned. There was no old man lying at the bottom of the steps. “What the...” He stepped deeper into the basement and was taken aback. The room was empty of the old man and anything else that could have been shoved in a basement, but what made the room look peculiar was that it was totally black; floor, walls, ceiling, with just the single bulb in the center of the room. He took another step and realized that he didn’t have a shadow.
He turned in a circle. No shadow. No old man. Nothing but utter loneliness. But then again, out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw something, a bed, no, a... a... table, maybe, something, and he stepped in that direction. When he got to where he thought he saw something, nothing was there, but then at the far wall he saw the same piece of something.
Then he could smell it. The same smell when someone owned an animal and never bathed them. Like an old blanket that has never been washed.
He walked in the direction of the stench and found nothing but he knew something was here. He reached out and then jerked his hand back. He felt something he was sure, but...
He shook his head, mumbling, “What the... Like some fucking carnival funhouse...”
Then he felt something flutter by him and he spun around.
“Goddamn,” Jack grunted.
He waited.
Nothing.
“Fuck, man, I’m starting to act like that asshole upstairs.” Then he stuck his hand out but couldn’t see it, but on the other side of where his fingers should have been he thought he saw a face.
The face moved.
Startled, Jack jumped back, readying himself for some sort of an attack, but as before, nothing happened. Then the face moved again, and just as he started to follow the face, the door creaked and stopped with the metal clink of a deadbolt.
He pounded up the steps.
Jack banged on the door but it wasn’t budging. As best as he could, he kicked at it but the door merely groaned.
“Roland!” Jack shouted out. Nothing. He knew Roland was up on the second floor and couldn’t hear him but he shouted out again, banging on the door, trying with all his might to break through.
The light bulb winked out and darkness at once rushed up the steps.
Jack slammed back against the door, waiting for something, anything to attack him. Like Roland, he could feel it and was pissed he didn’t listen to him but the money was too good and these old fucks should have been easy.
After several breaths, Jack forced himself to relax. Hell, he had been through much more on his tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. “This is a fucking a cake walk,” Jack mumbled as he twisted the doorknob. The knob didn’t turn. The door was not opening.
He felt a puff of air as if thrown from the flapping wings of a bird and screamed out, “Holy fuck!” and threw his arms up to cover his face.
Then, in the instant of a blink of an eye, something took a bite out of his arm. He screamed out as he toppled down the steps as if thrown.
He lay on the cold black floor and felt something move across his back. The weight was unbearable. Paralyzes crept in when he felt the breath of something on his neck and the low guttural growl in his right ear.
He screamed out.
Roland pushed Steliana backwards toward the bed. “Please don’t hurt me,” Steliana moaned. “I promise, I’ll do anything you want, just don’t hurt me.” Steliana fell back onto the bed and quickly rolled to her stomach as if hiding her face would stop the crazed man standing over her. In an instant, the eighty-year-old ass turned into a thirty-year-old ass. The grannie panties turned into a T-Back thong. The wrinkles and dimples of age faded into the milky-white silkiness that had drawn him to her in the beginning. She purred.