Something brushed against Rachel’s foot

Something brushed against Rachel’s foot. She thought nothing of it, opting instead to blame it on the frisky new kitten that her parents had adopted only a few days before. A new house needed a new pet, they claimed, and she hadn’t argued. The little Russian blue was a cute bugger, despite requiring almost constant attention lest it shrivel up and die from a lack of cuddles.

The teen glanced down at the corner of the monitor. According to the clock, midnight had just barely passed. Already? She had school the next day, too. Crap. If she hurried, she could nab a few hours of sleep, which was infinitely better than nothing.

“Only three months ‘til summer,” Rachel mumbled, shutting her computer down as she pushed away from the desk. The room sank into darkness as the only source of light died down, and she strolled over to the doorway to hit the light switch.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and her peripheral vision picked up on something moving off to the side. The kitten again? Nothing to get worked up about, at any rate. She bit back a sheepish grin and hit the switch before turning back to the bed.

Bluebell was sprawled out across the covers. As far as names went, that wasn’t the most original, but it got the job done. How had she been able to get up there so quickly?

“You’re a sneaky brat,” she cooed, leaning over to scratch the kitten behind the ears. “Trying to scare people isn’t very nice, you know.”

Living in a hundred year old house was bad enough without having to deal with heart attacks on legs. It looked downright creepy, for starters, and made some of the strangest sounds. Her father claimed it was just the sound of the beams settling, but it seemed a little odd that they felt the need to do that almost constantly after it got dark. Rachel knew for a fact that her parents weren’t telling her everything about the house, but she would get used to the little quirks eventually.

The cat purred softly and rolled onto her back, opening her fuzzy stomach up for belly rubs.

After switching her jeans and T-shirt for the pajamas covered in blue ducks, Rachel moved to turn the light off for the night.

Her door was open. Was that just another aspect of the house that she would have to grow used to?

With a heavy sigh, her hand closed around the doorknob. For all of a split second, she peered out into the dark hallway.

Wait. Something out there was moving.

“Mom?” Rachel took a tentative step over the threshold in an attempt to discern some details. “Dad?”

Nothing answered.

One of her friends at the school she went to before moving had a “Horror Movie Survival Guide”. Only a few notable details stood out: never go to Maine, never split up, and try to stay away from forests since there were only a thousand things that could kill an unwary trespasser. There had to be something about questioning strange shadows and how it wasn’t conducive to one’s health.

Despite that, she took another step. Then a second, and a third, until she was leaning over the rails of the stairs.

Silence reigned. That could only bode well, right? Robbers weren’t usually quiet, or so she thought.

“I’m going insane,” she said under her breath as she turned to enter her bedroom once more.

Bluebell was standing right in front of her door, and her pale green eyes were focused on something just over Rachel’s shoulder. The cat’s tail stood upright, and the hair along her spine looked a bit fluffier than usual.

“And you’re insane too,” the teen added, leaning over to scoop the cat into her arms. Just as she reached to grab her, there was a startling change in demeanor. Bluebell hissed loudly, and her back arched. She still seemed to be staring at something beyond her owner.

Rachel bit her lip and, rather hesitantly, glanced behind her.

She didn’t have time to scream.