He's Watching Me (3 page)

“Hello, the Anderson residence,” Laura didn't even recognise her own voice, she appeared so posh.

There was a heavy, chilling breath on the other line. Goosebumps slithered up Laura's arms. Several seconds passed, and still, nothing.

“Erm.. hello? Who is calling?” Laura was beginning to lose her elegant voice, and impatience was beginning to grow like a cancerous cyst crushing vital organs forcing candidness.

“Please, sir, madam, I am busy, can I take a message? They will be home soon.” Again, more seconds rolled by. Laura's patience was expiring like out of date milk, and she would also become very sour if this person didn't speak soon.

“So you're alone?” a man asked.

A tingle crept down the nape of Laura's neck, descending all the way down her spine.

“Yes, well, they have a child, Toby, he is with me,” she suddenly regretted telling a stranger of her solitude, the only defence being a child. Laura questioned why she would even say that. Then there was that same disconcerting silence.

“Are you after Dr Anderson?” Laura asked, regaining her gall.

“Sir, I have homework to do, do you have some speaking problem? If you would rather ring later, they should be home in a few hours.” She faked polite, when what she really wanted was to get off the phone as this man was creeping her out. His breathing continued, but his speech was non-existent.

“I'm going now; you can call later, good-”

The man quickly cut off Laura's farewell, “You will be next.”

Just as Laura was about to reply, the line went dead. The eerie drone resonated for a collection of seconds, while Laura stood completely still. Minutes later, after delicately placing the phone back, her ear drums recovered. But Laura couldn't shake of that odd, disconcerting conversation. Not to mention the last four words that sounded like a threat.
You will be next.

Chapter 3

The pen scribbled numbers as ink bled onto the lined paper. But Laura still failed to shrug off the creepy, threatening phone call. The words kept whirling in her mind. “You will be next.”
Next for what?
Judging by his tone she guessed it wasn't an all expenses paid holiday to the tropics. It was harsh, and intentionally aggressive. Whatever he meant by those two words, he would see it through. That was what she couldn't dismiss.

Half an hour later blackness had consumed the exterior to the property. The previously enchanting landscape was now a sinister, scary forest. One where Laura pictured a house made of sweets to entice gullible children and be devoured by a ravenous witch. The short, aural encounter had left her shaken, since which, she had retreated to the sofa and continued to study, which was proving tirelessly difficult. But then her bladder cried out, which she was desperately trying to ignore. The thought of walking the halls of this Gothic castle was no longer appealing, but instead, quite frightening. Seconds seemed to mimic hours. She was willing time to careen on into a world of its own, but unfortunately, time seemed to drag along at a snail's pace. And the urge to pee was expanding, her orifice stinging as a result.
Get a grip!
Laura told herself.

So, putting the work aside, she took a deep breath, and left the room.
Okay, so, Dr Anderson said that out of every five rooms, there would be a bathroom, so I guess all I have to do is try five rooms then,
Laura thought.

She was now in the hall of doors, just before the stairs. Laura tried the first door after the living room, and briefly glimpsed into a library. The next room was Dr Anderson's office, bulky expensive furniture, folders scattered everywhere, and another breathtaking view of the forest from a full length window.
What an office!
She was impressed, but equally envious, simultaneously. Laura ignored the next door as she knew it was the kitchen. Which left two more doors,
one of these should be a bathroom
. Laura opened the fourth door and alas, it was a lime explosion of tiles, boasting a gigantic tub, separate shower, toilet, sink, and fogged window. The bathtub sat on a raised platform of three steps, with a row of eight silver shelves above it, holding various soaps, shampoos, a loofah, and sponges. It was the ultimate pampering station.

She hurried to the toilet, slamming the door shut. Laura yanked down the red corduroy trousers, tugged at her underwear and planted her butt on the cold seat. As the full bladder emptied she began to feel at ease, and less tense. Her belly softened, releasing pent up anxiety. The tinkling proved to be soothing for some strange reason as her nerves began to settle.
Just relax, you're over-thinking things again, just calm down,
she told herself in an attempt to unwind
. When she was done, Laura moseyed to the sink deciding which of the soaps to use, giving each one a sniff. It was a delectable collaboration of different scents: lime, orange, berry, mango, or pineapple. After a quick smelling competition she chose berry, and began rubbing the pink block of soap between her palms under a stream of warm water. When the door knockers made her freeze. Her stomach instantly stiffened again. The tap was still running, hands still gloved in frothy bubbles, but everything else became motionless.

Trick or treaters seemed doubtful, who else could it be?
STOP BEING PATHETIC! You are over-reacting,
she scorned herself. Twisting the tap she reached for a towel and dried herself, cautiously entering the hallway. The door stood before her, like a mission that had to be completed. Laura forced her legs to move. One step, two steps, three steps. Until she eventually reached the wooden double doors just as a heavy boom startled her.

Impatience. That was not a good sign
. But regardless, she reached out with trembling hands and began to pull open the door. At first all that could be seen was more black sky, the forest in the distance, and a thick smell of nature, when a hairy beast came into view;

alongside a little witch, a vampire in a black cloak, and a zombie. Children, in Halloween costumes. Relief came to her mercy as her buttocks unclenched.
Oh crap!
She thought. Dr Anderson had told her many things in a rushed haze, but the candy's location wasn't one of them.

“Hold on kids,” she pleaded with hands up, before either of them could yell trick or treat.

Laura scrambled into the kitchen, rummaging around like a crazy lady. Yanking open drawers, rifling through cabinets, eyes darting every which way. Until she flung open the fridge. And as if Dr Anderson knew she may find herself in this dilemma, there was a bowl full of goodies on the middle shelf just at the front. How had she missed that before? She snatched it from the shelf and scurried back to the no doubt restless, sugar- hungry kids.

“Sorry about that, I am babysitting; I had to look for the sweets. I don't think many kids will be coming here tonight so take as much as you want,” she smiled.

“Are you kidding?” the werewolf spoke with a clear sarcasm that irritated Laura as she held out the large crystal bowl.

“Why? What do you mean?” Laura was confused and slightly anxious.

“This is a Halloween hotspot, tonnes of kids come every year, as it's a spooky castle. I mean the weather is usually better than this, but if it doesn't get much worse I don't think we will be the only kids you see tonight. We love this creepy castle!”

Yeah, thanks for reminding me.

“Plus, the folks here usually give out really good candy,” the witch chimed in with a squeaky voice and mischievous grin, eyes darting back and forth from Laura to the candy.

“Oh great,” Laura laughed.

The kids each took a greedy handful, regardless of knowing plenty more kids would want candy, and stuffed them into an array of candy containers. There were pillow cases, plastic pumpkins and even rucksacks. Each almost full, bursting to the brim with chocolate, candy, small cakes, doughnuts and so on. An overproduction of saliva built in Laura's mouth as she suddenly found herself craving sugar. After each child had crammed candy into the various bags they began to leave, all muttering a robotic 'thank you', as if their parents were behind them and had just reminded them to use their manners.

“Oh nice costume!” the zombie whooped, fisting the air, while the witch gave an enthusiastic thumbs up, the thumb wearing a fake finger with a long nail.

“Erm.... thanks,” Laura was puzzled,
did red trousers and a black vest look like a character from a movie or something?

“That was weird,” the zombie whispered amongst his friends as Laura nudged the door shut.

“What was?” the witch butted in again, as they descended the stone steps, wind rustling straw from the witch's broomstick.

“I wasn't saying
her
costume was good, I was talking about the clown that was walking up the stairs behind her.”

Laura closed the door chuckling at the weirdness of kids. She felt much more tranquil, and dare she think it, in a good mood? Not long ago she was a trembling statue of abhorrence, but now a smooth, serene lake. Also, she was hungry, not for sugar laced treats anymore, but for real good food, which this extravagant abode would surely provide.

Laura was shocked at how polite the children had been, most kids that age were petulant abominations, moody and insufferable. But they were pleasant, and informative, letting her know there would probably be many more knocks at the door. If all the kids were like that she didn't mind, but she highly doubted that, some were bound to be rude brats. But she would cross that bridge when she came to it, or just refuse candy if they didn't behave.
Kids! Speaking of which, Toby!
Her mind thundered.

She ought to check on him. It was seven o'clock, so it wasn't too late for a quick visit to see what he was up to. Laura assumed he was a techno-geek, as her school called them. They were like hermits, and would be if it weren't for family events, and schools, that society and pushy parents made them attend. So before grabbing a bite to eat she headed upstairs, leaving the candy bowl on a small burgundy rug just outside the kitchen.

She ascended the red carpet-covered steps to the third floor. Laura was sure that was where his bedroom was, if she remembered Dr Anderson's directions correctly. She grinned at the memory of his dramatic gesturing as he gave directions and instructions. Though she had never been to an opera, Dr Anderson reminded her of a conductor. The staircase spiralled, and after a full circle of spiralling it would pass a floor. Laura had made the initial observation that this tower had five or six floors, but she looked up the spiral staircase and it appeared there was a seventh, unless that was just an attic on the top floor.
Ugh, attics!
Since childhood attics had always frightened her, imagining ghouls and ghosts floating around with evil glares. The staircase rested against a grey brick wall, each floor having a magnificent arched entrance. Soon enough she reached the third, swerving right into the hallway. After a few short steps Laura rapped gently on what she assumed was Toby's bedroom door if the muffled noises were any indication.

“Come in,” a young voice yelled.

She entered a profusion of posters, spaceship memorabilia, toys, wooden shelves and expensive technology all contained within a spacious blue room. Toby was nestled in bed, all snug in a bright red race car. He squeezed a gaming remote gawking at a humongous TV screen hung from the wall. A limp tongue hung from his mouth as his gaze was glued to the enormous screen. On it was a castle, not unfamiliar to this one, and a man wielding a sword fighting off warriors.

“Any chance you could pause that for a second?” Laura asked delicately, aware of the addiction and dependence young boys had to their virtual worlds. God forbid she steal five minutes of his time. She expected a dynamo explosion of rage at even asking such a question, but to her amazement, he paused the game without hesitation. Tongue slivering back into his mouth and face relaxing. His gaming claws unclenched.

“I just wanted to check on you. I'm the babysitter,” she threw a wave his way.

“Yeah, I know,” Toby muttered, with a hint of attitude, repeatedly tapping the remote with impatience. And the short fuse was rearing its ugly head in the spoilt child. It was then that Laura noticed half a dozen energy drinks strewn on the thick carpet aside his bed.
Jesus! How much caffeine does a young kid need? He should be full of energy, without the aid of power boosters.
Laura flashed to reading an article about a child who had drank two energy drinks and died within an hour. And he was there, roughly the same age, with three times as many. Laura would have commented on this, but already felt an increasingly hostile energy; she didn't want to push it.

“Well anyway I'm going downstairs, you want anything to eat or anything at all just let me know,” Laura added, backing away as if creeping from a venomous snake.

“Thanks, I might come down for food later,” Toby smiled.

Hallelujah! He is a polite little boy after all,
she smiled, fighting the urge to fist the air with self-congratulations at bringing the boy out of his shell.

Laura closed the door feeling proud for overcoming the exterior of the boy, and bringing out the well mannered young man underneath. That, as it turns out, wasn't ridiculously unsociable after all.

She descended the steps, her hand gliding along the indescribably smooth bannister, feeling confident and happy. This was shot to hell within seconds. Abhorrence took hold when she saw something very disturbing. Laura's stomach squirmed upon looking at the bottom of the staircase, staring at the vacant space where the candy should be. Not only had the confectioneries vanished, but the front door was wide open, wind whistling through with an ear-piercing screech. It didn't take a genius to determine what this meant. An intruder was inside the house.