Ryland moaned and focused on the room around him. Darkness surrounded every corner. No help there. Where was he? Something didn’t feel right. His ankles were in a great amount of pain and his head was about to explode. For some reason, all the blood had rushed to his head.
Both hands brushing across the wood floor, he realized that he was upside down. As he tried to kick his way out of ropes binding his ankles, he began to sway back and forth. His brown hair hung suspended downward.
What had happened? He was trying to remember the last thing he had seen. He remembered leaving school. He had walked through the ally past the rundown duplexes, through Baker’s Graveyard, and then into the new neighborhood towards the historic homes. He remembered some of the seniors coming up behind him. They had pushed him around a little and thrown his backpack into the bushes. There had been a serious discussion. He had been challenged to do something. What was it: old house; whispers in the dark? He had been terrified.
Then everything came back in a rush. He had been dared to go into the old Victorian home. Sweaty handed and shaking, he had walked into the house. He had heard a voice and had seen a figure. The figure had stepped into the hallway. He remembered feeling a sting on his arm. Then everything had gone black. Now he was hanging upside down helplessly, a perfect target.
All of the sudden uncertainty gave way to fear. The figure was somewhere in the house lurking, maybe even watching Ryland hanging disoriented in the dark. He tried more frantically to get out of the ropes. Swaying even more violently then before, he pushed against the floor to stabilize himself. Unfortunately, his left hand slipped and slid across the wood. He yelped in pain feeling a splinter dig into his flesh.
A floor board creaked in the corner and Ryland suddenly forgot the pain. “Who’s their,” he said. Silence ensued. “Please, say something!” He waited hoping that this was just some stupid, elaborate prank. The dark roomed remained silent and still. If this was a prank, he would never leave his house again. If it was real, well, he might not make it back to his house alive. Hanging in the dark, growing more tired by the minute, he wondered whether other young, helpless losers had been dared to go into this same house. Maybe he was only a high-school statistic, one of the young stupid percent whose gullibility had made him a great target for high-school jocks.
Another floorboard creaked. It groaned loud and long as if someone was leaning hard on the wood. In one last attempt to slip out of the bonds around his ankles, Ryland tried to pull himself up to grab the rope and loosen it. No luck. He fell back into his original hanging position cringing at the sudden sharp pain in his stomach. He remember the first day of high school, he had been given the choice of table tennis or PE. Out of pure practicality, he had picked table tennis. There was no way he could keep up in PE, at least, not with his body type, he remembered thinking. Now sore and unable to pull himself up, he wished he had picked PE.
Another sound from that same corner drew Ryland’s eyes away from where he thought his feet might be. He had a perfect view of that area in the room. Whoever, whatever it was crouching in the dark would not leave with out Ryland’s getting a glimpse. He waited, feeling the pressure growing in his scull. His eyes began to water and his hands began to tingle. Everything ached, he realized. Somehow, he had to do something to get away. Before long he would black out again. Probably for the last time.
Ryland pulled himself up an inch and let himself drop. The rope became tense and gave a little. His heart skipped a beat. He did this again and again. In a matter of minutes, he could feel his hair touching the ground. No doubt, the knot was almost completely undone. As he contemplated whether or not he should drop again, fearing that he might break his neck, the rope gave way altogether. He fell to the ground in a heap.
The sudden impact threw Ryland’s senses out the door. He tried to push himself off the ground but could not find the strength. His fingers slipped on the smooth wood surface and he went crashing down with another resounding THUD! Stars floated above his head. He gasped for breath. Rolling over onto his back he looked up at what was probably the ceiling. The blackness seemed to float around and he could hear his strained breathing.
“You can’t hide,”
The whisper sent shockwaves up Ryland’s spine, and Goosebumps across his arm. As strange as it seemed, the voice did not come from with in the room or, even, within the house. The sound originated inside his head.
“That’s right. I know what you are thinking.”
The voice cackled as it read Ryland’s deepest thoughts. When would the dizziness go away he wondered as he felt the whole house bend in towards him. If he were younger and believed in all of the fairytales, he might have thought the house was alive.
After what seemed like an eternity, Ryland was able to stand up and staggered towards the door way. But as he leaned in towards the wall to steady himself, he missed it altogether and almost fell flat on his face. Was it his imagination or had the wall moved? He moaned. It seemed as if the whole house was against him. Slipping through the opening of the door way he looked to his left. The corridor tapered off into complete darkness. Not an ounce of light revealed what lay beyond. Looking to his right, Ryland could just make out a dim light. The yellow glow illuminated a stair case and a large door. Freedom, he thought.
Was this really as easy as it seemed? Someone had taken the time to kidnap him and tie him up. Now he was going to walk out the door as if he had just come for a visit and was leaving? Ryland had been in high school long enough to realize that life wasn’t that easy. As he had learned to do some many times, he began to ask himself, What is the catch?
The answer was quickly manifest in the form of a scraping noise to Ryland’s left and a voice in his head. “The catch is simple,” the voice said. It seemed to understand his train of thought. He felt a sweat drop slide down his cheek. “Sadly,” the voice taunted, “You can escape, but only from your earthly body.” The scraping noise became louder.
Ryland took that as a hint and sprinted towards the front door. As he ran down the hall he passed a room glowing with light from a lamp. For just that second the whole world seemed to slow down. He looked into the room and could see an older man sitting in a recliner, eyes glued to a television screen. A bottle of beer, waded napkins, old newspapers and half eaten food lay on a table next to him. The floor appeared as dirty as the table. Old cloths covered the carpet. Piles of books lay in one corner of the room. Cardboard boxes lined the walls.
Ryland couldn’t remember seeing the light or the man earlier. But he did remembered the room. It had been covered with objects he had not been able to make out in the dark.
All of the sudden the world seemed to speed up again as he passed the room. Approaching the door, He grasped the door knob, twisting and pulling back as hard as he could. But it would not budge. He became more frantic by the moment and Looked over his shoulder. A figure step out of the shadows of the hallway and into the light. Ryland closed his eyes and tugged again.
“Nice try” the voice said sarcastically. “Now we are back to square one.” Ryland felt a strong arm grip his shoulder. "look into my eyes, so that you can know true fear." The voice was suddenly so much more menacing. Unable to avoide the temptation to look Ryland tilted his head upward but was suddenly stoped by another voice.
“Is anyone there?”
Ryland opened his eyes and noticed a man standing in the light. The same man had been in the lighted room just a second ago. His hair was scraggly and matted in some places. His glasses hung on the tip of his nose and were slightly crooked. His small, tight shirt hardly covered the belly that hung over his pants.
Ryland stood up noticing that his pursuer had vanished. “Sorry to bother you sir,” He said, walking towards the man, hoping for sanctuary from his tormenter. “My name is Ryland; I did not mean to trespass. I had no idea that anyone lived here.” He looked up into the man’s eyes.
The man did not even acknowledge Ryland’s existence. He shrugged his shoulders. “Must have been a cat,” he said turning and walking back into the lighted room.’
Ryland was left alone wondering what was happening to him.
