This is the continuation of my horror short story about a house guest. Make sure you check out Part 1.
The House Guest: Part 2
By Jarrett S. Smith
“So I got out of there as fast as I could without alerting him,” she said calmly but forcefully. “I wasn’t really sure what else to do.”
Kevin looked at her as if she were crazy. He had gotten home early only to find her nervous and on edge. “There’s no way. I remember being at the funeral.”
“Was it an open casket?” she asked.
“I don’t remember. I was four,” he spat at her. He struggled to figure out why she would believe something like this anyway.
“But you’re sure she died of cancer?” She asked.
“Yes,” he said without much conviction. His memory clouded as if it didn’t want him to look at it. He was sure his grandmother had died of cancer, but he couldn’t remember her ever being in the hospital. “I’m pretty sure. I think your mind is just playing tricks on you.”
“Why would I make that up?” She spat back.
“I don’t know.” Every word out of his mouth made both of their frustration worse. “Maybe he mixed things up. You said he had started talking to you about the squirrels before he said that.”
His eye twitched, and his temper rose. For just a moment, she made him feel rage. Right now, he wasn’t even sure why it was such a big deal. Nothing would change.
But then he thought about his youth and growing up with a mother and father who constantly fought. He didn’t want that for him and his new bride. As quickly as his temper rose, he released it into the air and felt peace.
“Maybe. He’s never mixed up his stories before,” she thought. “He sounded so calm about it.”
“See? There you go. Why would he be calm about admitting to murder?” He reasoned. He could feel both of their frustration receding.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Do you want me to go ask him how grandma died?” He asked. He hoped that she’d say no. He feared what his father would say.
“No,” she admitted.
He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He laughed as he realized they had been arguing about his grandfather killing someone.
“I have to take Grandpa Jo his dinner. It’s already past five. He’ll probably kill me,” he said, hoping to ease the moment with a joke.
He could tell by the look on her face that it was too soon. “Sorry.”
“Not funny,” she said with a smile. Even though she didn’t seem happy with him right now, she did still love him.
He moved to her and kissed her softly. She returned the kiss and then placed her head on his chest. She heard his heartbeat and wondered how she could have thought the old man in their downstairs room could have murdered anyone.
Stephanie tossed and turned in bed. Her mind raced all evening, and she had difficulty focusing. Everyone’s voices at dinner simply washed over her.
She wasn’t sure why she had been so triggered by what Jo had admitted. She knew Kevin, and she had known Jo for a while now. Despite all the war stories and attacks on squirrels, she had never imagined Jo being a violent man.
Something had just tugged at her mind all day.
She couldn’t put her finger on it, but if she had to guess, it was how Jo had delivered his information. She was sure he had said he slit his wife’s neck while relaxing.
She wanted to believe it was only a story, that he had somehow gotten the story of the squirrel and his wife mixed up in his head. But she knew he didn’t mix them up. He knew exactly what he said, which scared her the most.
She tried to relax her eyes when she realized she was forcing them closed. That might be why she couldn’t sleep, she thought. She breathed a deep sigh that mixed the air with Kevin’s deep breathing.
Kevin had been sound asleep for over an hour now, and she wondered why this hadn’t affected him more. She didn’t want to hold a grudge but couldn’t get past his reluctance to believe her.
Just relax, she thought. Count sheep or something.
She had gotten to six floating sheep in her head when she heard the door creak.
Her eyes were tight again, and now she was holding her breath. She didn’t dare open her eyes in fear.
She lay rigid, too fearful to look at the door to see what had caused it to open. She could hear the deep breathing of her husband, unaware of anything. She knew without looking who had opened the door.
Then she heard the sound of the walking stick hit the floor, followed by the shuffling of feet that couldn’t be lifted more than an inch off the floor. The footsteps shuffled over to her bedside. She could feel a presence standing over her.
Without looking at the intruder, she knew that Grandpa Jo had come to kill her. Without opening her eyes, she could feel the old man standing over her, his cane in one hand and a butcher knife in the other.
She squeezed her eyes as tight as possible, waiting for the moment when the knife would plunge into her chest. The feet shuffled closer to her side of the bed. She could hear his labored breathing.
Then, the cane and the feet shuffled away. She tried to give herself the confidence to look. Slowly, she opened her eyes in the darkness.
She couldn’t make out anything.
But she knew that she heard the shuffling of feet.
She slowly craned her neck, careful not to make sudden movements. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of light, and she could see the tall and twisted body of Jo. His back to the bed, his oversized pajamas hanging off his body. One of his hands held the cane while the other hung loosely by his side.
Still, she didn’t move. It felt like time had been distorted. The entire incident seemed to take forever and an instant.
Tears began to escape her tightly shut eyelids like prisoners escaping during a jailbreak. She turned over towards Kevin and clung to him for dear life.
“You should have woke me up,” he yelled at her.
“I don’t really want to fight about this,” Stephanie calmly said. Her body needed the caffeine from the mug in front of her.
She hadn’t slept.
“Well, I talked to him,” Kevin said. She had little patience for him right now, and she knew she was about to just lay into him for something that wasn’t even his fault, but she couldn’t stop herself. “He said he got lost on the way to the kitchen. He needed a drink.”
“Then why did he stand over me?” She asked between sips of the only thing keeping her nerves calm.
“I didn’t ask,” He paused. “I think your mind is playing tricks on you.”
She took a deep breath, inhaling her mug’s heat and bitter aroma.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t really feel like all this adds up.” She had been trying to tell herself that she was making this up all night, but she couldn’t shake her dread and worry.
“Baby, I love you. I want you to know that.” He grabbed her shoulders and looked her in the eye. “If you want me to kick my grandfather out of the house, I will. I’ll figure something out.” He punctuated his claim by engulfing her in an embrace.
She forced a smile. He was right, she finally admitted. It was all in her head. If nothing else, he was an old man. He could barely move his feet. She couldn’t see him as a physical threat.
“No,” she said. “No, he’s family. You’re right. It’s all in my head.”
She sipped her coffee, trying to believe the words she just said.