I knew this was a bad idea. I knew it.

It's been an hour since I last saw my brother disappear into the creepy, abandoned house at the end of our street. I was meant to be look-out, staying alert and aware for anyone wandering down this part of town at night, using my flashlight to flash twice as a signal. But I had barely been able to tear my eyes away from the house the entire time.

God. That house.

Big, ugly and old; older than anything else on our street. The wood was rotting but somehow never gave way, the windows were dirty but still intact. It creaks eerily and I get the feeling... it was watching me back.

I supress a shudder and try double-clicking my light again.

My brother was meant to check-in every five minutes with a double-flash of his own through one of the windows. But I haven't seen his light go off in over an hour now. Fighting a wave of panic, I double-click my flash light again.

And again.

Nothing.

I close my eyes and exhale slowly through pursed lips. The thought that the house has swallowed him whole invades my mind and I immediately push it back out. It's just a house, I tell myself. Wood and glass and concrete. Nothing more.

I look up and feel it looming over me.

Nothing more.

I hop from one foot to the other, head swivelling as I scan the street. There's no one here, no one to help us. I'm the only one to save my stupid brother. Balling my hands into fists, I give a low, reluctant groan and run into the house.

As soon as I shut the door behind me, the house swallows all sound. The only thing I can hear is my own breathing, loud and ragged against the silence. It's dim but not pitch black and I blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the gloom so I can find my brother. But I don't need to go far.

He's standing at the end of the long, narrow hall, facing the wall. He's upright but limp, his arms hanging by his sides and his shoulders hunched slightly. I stare, waiting for him to move but he doesn't. He just... stands there.

"Hey..." I don't know why I whisper when it's just us in the house but something deep inside me is warning me against loud noises. Are we alone in the house?

My brother doesn't turn around.

Sweat runs down my back, despite the damp coolness in the air. Everything in my brain screams at me to turn around and leave. But I can't; I can't leave him here.

I creep along the hall, wincing with every squeak in the floorboards. My brother stays still. I reach out, my hand quivering, and gently touch him on the shoulder. He turns around.

He's not my brother.

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489 words

u/StormLomax