The next couple of days went uneventful. The phonograph didn't play on its own. No mysterious entity scuttling on the basement. No girl was roaming around the living room to the dark corridors. For the past few days, it seemed as if the events of that night were just his hallucination.
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It's a lovely late afternoon. The cool weather, sky covered in white puffy clouds, auburn leaves of fall, all in all, a lovely day. But he was sitting on that mahogany desk tapping in his laptop, pondering. His mind is too preoccupied with recent events to enjoy a beautiful day. More importantly, he was perplexed over who to share this with. When he couldn't accept what transpired that night, who else would believe him!
He's staring at the screen thinking of what to type. With only Nikolai's name, he doesn't have much to go on. And what to search! It's unlikely it will be repeated but for once he hoped it did. His curiosity got the best of him. He wants to know who she was and what happened to her. He slumped back to his chair and eyes at the ceiling. There was genuine concern for her in his mind as if he somehow knew something bad had happened to her. With those thoughts lingering to him, each day was as restless as the last. There's a maze in front of him and he has to get out of it. His mind went back to how to gather more information about the girl!
"I could search the history of the house." His brows furrowed at the thought.
The house, even though looked vintage, has been refurbished a few times over the years. It creaks and moans sometimes and often it seems as if the house wails on a windy night. There were previous owners but it had been vacant for a while before he bought it. He has been thinking of talking to his realtor to check on the history or maybe if some locals know about anything. The fact remains, there is hardly any other house around here and some of them are pretty new so he highly doubts if he'd get any information. But he's determined to get to the bottom of it. This is his home, he isn't going to let it suffer. With endless questions running through his mind, he picks up his phone and dialed his realtor.
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"Hello. Manson?" He questions.
"Hey, Patrick! How have you been doing? It's nice to hear from you man." Manson is on the other end.
"I have been better. Although my head still hurts sometimes. I called you for a reason though." He is agitated.
"Sure. How can I help?" Manson asked.
"It's about the house." He is somewhat hesitant. "I'm not sure how to explain it. Nevermind that. I was hoping if you have any other information regarding its previous owners."
"But I already gave you all the details, didn't I? The house was previously owned by the Danvers family and they lived for about 3 years and before that, it was the Holloways' who lived there 2 years. My company bought it from the bank around 7 or 8 years ago probably. I'm not sure how long the bank owned it or how did they come to possess a property such as this. Although, I have heard that it had been owned by an old family and the bank repossessed it. It's a rumor though with dead ends." Mason replied.
"Why did the Danvers or the Holloways left this place?" Patrick questions.
"You know, I got the house a few months ago and I only showed it to you. Harrison handed me the papers of this house and left town, better opportunities." Manson said.
"Do you know anything about the family who built this house?" Patrick asked.
"No man I have no idea." Mason paused. "Hey, why don't you asked your caretaker. He has been living there for decades. I'm sure he may know something! Oh, maybe I can check archives if I have the original documents or anything. I'll get back to you on that. But tell me something. What're all these about?" Manson said.
"I don't know how or what to tell you. Why don't you swing by the house today? If you can find any documents, bring them with you. I'll explain then." Patrick sighed.
"Alright. I'll swing by after office. How about 6?" Manson informed.
"Yeah sounds doable. See you then." Patrick confirmed.
"Sure." Manson cut the call.
A waiting game ensued, one that he doesn't like. He has to wait for Manson to bring him some information. His restless mind isn't allowing him to gather enough facts; what facts!
The phonograph was playing automatically.
A girl was roaming around his house.
Someone pushed him down the stairs.
The girl vanished Into thin air
Where are the facts in any of these! The logic is out the door. He racked up his brain.
The backdoor creaks loudly followed by footsteps. He got up from his chair and opens his office door.
"Hello?" He asks loudly.
"Mr. Simms it's me, Alden." The caretaker voiced his presence.
"Oh, Alden it's you." He comes down from the stairs to downstairs. "I was thinking about you."
"I had cleaned up the backyard pond and just about to put the tools down at the basement. I'm done for today" The caretaker said.
"Oh, that's fine. Say, Alden." He rubs his finger on the temple. "If you don't mind I was thinking about if you know anything about this house."
"Mr. Simms I have lived here for the past 30 years. When I came here with my family, I heard that it's an old abandoned house and the inhabitants had died but there was a son left. I never asked about anything else." The caretaker shrugged.
"Oh, okay. Thank you, Alden. Close the door on your way out. I'll be in the living room for a while." He said.
"Good night Mr. Simms." The caretaker bids farewell.
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Just as he pours himself a drink, the phonograph starts to play again.
"Alden? Did you start the record player?" But no one answers him. "Alden?" He's confused.
The music keeps playing and he could feel his pulse racing again. He rushes to the phonograph, there's no one apart from him around. His brows furrowed; almost as if the night is playing itself again. He can't look away from the spinning vinyl, the melancholic tune overlooked.
The phonograph stops.
Just to clarify, the name of He is Patrick Simms. For some unknown reason, I prefer keeping the protagonist as He but sometimes it clashes with the other characters.
Into Thin Air
Into Thin Air - 2
