They moved through an open door into a spacious entrance hallway. "Wow," Corrie said. To their right was a tall grandfather clock stopped at twelve-five. Above them was a delicate chandelier with lighting fixtures meant to look like candles. And to their left a majestic staircase wound its way to the second floor.
"Well, at least the clock isn't ticking," David said. "And there isn't blood dripping off the chandelier."
"David, stop it," said Corrie, crossing to the grandfather clock and touching it gently. "It's beautiful, isn't it? I love this kind of clock, with the moon and the sun on its face. If anyone were going to commit a robbery, this is what they would take. Do you have any idea how valuable this is?"
"And so easy to get out of a window," David said.
He could not see Corrie glare at him in the darkness that suddenly engulfed them when the light went out again.
Sebastian gave the flashlight a shake and said, "Let's go upstairs."
"What?" David said. "Tell the truth, Sebastian. Now that you're no longer a radio celebrity, are you hoping to make news as a famous murder victim? I say, let's get out of here while we still have all our body parts." He looked to Corrie for her support. He didn't find it.
"This place is amazing," she said, her eyes following the path of the staircase. "I mean, it's scary and all. But it's neat, too. I'm dying to find out what's up there."
David sighed. "I'll try not to take that literally." he said.
Sebastian.
"You can wait down here, chicken heart," said
"No, thanks. If you and Corrie are going to get murdered, I wouldn't want to miss the fun."
"Let's go then."
As they made their way up the stairs, their fears grew with each step. David was so nervous he forgot to worry about giggling, although the inside of his cheek hurt from where he was biting it.
When they reached the top, they found themselves in the middle of a long hallway. Sebastian swept
his light to the left, then to the right. All the bedroom doors but one were closed. No one spoke, even when Sebastian set off in the direction of the open door.
The darkness wrapped itself around them as they followed the flickering light down the carpeted hall. Sebastian muttered, "Don't fail me, light. Come on, don't go out. That's it, just a few more steps."
By the time they'd covered half the distance between the stairs and the open doorway, they were in the grip of a terror so real they had all begun to wonder what had possessed them to enter that open window. It was as if they had passed into another dimension, one in which time had stopped as surely as it had on the face of the grandfather clock downstairs. They were a million miles from their homes, their families, their real lives. They were in a dream.
A few feet from the door, a thought came to Sebastian. It was something he'd seen, something that hadn't registered -- until now. The magazine he'd looked at in the sitting room had been dated. It was this month's issue.
There was a good chance they were not alone.
Sebastian almost turned back when he realized he was standing in the open doorway and his light was shining through. David and Corrie huddled close to him, shivering, they told themselves, because they were cold. The sight of the room, its commonplace and seemingly untouched furniture, came as such a relief it made them laugh. David laughed so hard he got the hiccoughs, and that made them laugh all the harder. Corrie begged them to stop because she had to go to the bathroom. The beam of light bounced off the objects in the room as Sebastian's hand jiggled and shook. Then it caught something. And their laughter died.
There was a body on the bed.