Dust
By
DJ Tyrer
“How come I have to lug all this stuff?” asked Dan as he hauled a stepladder, tools and decorating supplies down the steps to the cellar.
Steve, who was barely encumbered in comparison, shrugged. “Luck of the draw, I guess.”
Dan tried to scratch his nose, gave up and continued his struggle down the steps.
“Don’t grouch,” said Steve. “Remember, we’re being paid.”
Dumping his load, Dan looked around the cellar. “I don’t like this place… It feels…” He shivered. “I can feel the hate coming out the walls.”
Steve laughed. “Don’t be silly.” But, despite the attempt at bravado, there was a quiver in his voice.
“I’m telling you, I don’t like it down here. My Mam always said that houses remember, that emotion gets into the bricks and stones. That’s why happy houses feel happy even when no-one’s there and unhappy homes are unwelcoming.”
“And, this place?” Steve couldn’t help himself.
Dan shuddered. “It’s hateful.” He looked at Steve. “Come on, let’s go – there are other jobs. You know what happened here.”
“Which is why we’re getting a bonus for doing the work. Nobody else would touch it with a barge-pole. But, a house is just a house and someone wants to live here… Heard they got it for a song.” He gave a dismissive shake of his head. “Let’s crack on. Help me get the lights set up, so we can see.”
Slowly, Dan set to work, leery of the dark corners, constantly casting looks around.
A sudden sound made them both turn and look into the darkness.
Steve swore. “Rats – I hate rats.”
He shone his torch, but there was no sign of scampering rodents.
“Let’s go,” murmured Dan. “Come on, mate…”
But, Steve wasn’t listening. He took a half-step forward, leant a little closer to the far wall. Dan followed his gaze.
In the beam of the light, mortar and dirt trickled from between the bricks of the cellar wall.
“Weird…” muttered Steve.
“Let’s go.”
The flow of dust quickened and began to swirl up as if caught in a vortex of air. As they watched, the dust seemed to form itself into the vague shape of a man. It stared at them with empty black pits in place of eyes. A wave of emotion, like searing heat, hit them, an unmistakable feeling of raw hatred.
Both men shivered, the burning rage leaving the chill of fear in its wake.
Dan half turned. “Let’s go.”
With a wail that mixed hatred and terror and misery in equal measure, it surged across the cellar, a cloud of filth with barely any coherent shape to it.
Dan ran, sprinting for the stairs.
Behind him, Steve screamed in terror, his cry mingling with the awful wail before transforming into choking gasps.
Dan glanced back. Steve’s torch had rolled off into a corner, so he could barely see his friend, but he had the impression Steve’s back was arched, his head thrown back, with dust and filth pouring down his throat to suffocate him.
Choking back nausea, Dan ran up the stairs and through the house. He fell to his knees on the front path, sobbing.
In the light of day, he couldn’t quite believe what he’d seen down there – but, there was no damn way he was going back into the cellar to learn the truth.
He pulled out his phone and pressed 999. “Hello. Ambulance, please.”
He didn’t know what they’d find down in the darkness. He just hoped they’d make it out alive.
Behind him, dust began to trickle over the doorstep and down the path, like a creeping snake. Dan ended the call, waited, unaware.
DJ Tyrer dwells on the misty northern shore of the Thames estuary, close to the world’s longest pleasure pier in the decaying seaside resort of Southend-on-Sea, and is the person behind Atlantean Publishing. They have been widely published in anthologies and magazines around the world, such as Alone in the Borderland (Belanger Books), Chilling Horror Short Stories (Flame Tree), All The Petty Myths (18th Wall), Steampunk Cthulhu (Chaosium), What Dwells Below (Sirens Call), The Horror Zine’s Book of Ghost Stories (Hellbound Books), and EOM: Equal Opportunity Madness (Otter Libris), and issues of Sirens Call, Hypnos, Occult Detective Magazine, parABnormal, and Weirdbook, and in addition, has a novella available in paperback and on the Kindle, The Yellow House (Dunhams Manor).
DJ Tyrer's website is at https://djtyrer.blogspot.co.uk/
DJ Tyrer's Facebook page is at https://www.facebook.com/DJTyrerwriter/
The Atlantean Publishing website is at https://atlanteanpublishing.wordpress.com/
By
DJ Tyrer
“How come I have to lug all this stuff?” asked Dan as he hauled a stepladder, tools and decorating supplies down the steps to the cellar.
Steve, who was barely encumbered in comparison, shrugged. “Luck of the draw, I guess.”
Dan tried to scratch his nose, gave up and continued his struggle down the steps.
“Don’t grouch,” said Steve. “Remember, we’re being paid.”
Dumping his load, Dan looked around the cellar. “I don’t like this place… It feels…” He shivered. “I can feel the hate coming out the walls.”
Steve laughed. “Don’t be silly.” But, despite the attempt at bravado, there was a quiver in his voice.
“I’m telling you, I don’t like it down here. My Mam always said that houses remember, that emotion gets into the bricks and stones. That’s why happy houses feel happy even when no-one’s there and unhappy homes are unwelcoming.”
“And, this place?” Steve couldn’t help himself.
Dan shuddered. “It’s hateful.” He looked at Steve. “Come on, let’s go – there are other jobs. You know what happened here.”
“Which is why we’re getting a bonus for doing the work. Nobody else would touch it with a barge-pole. But, a house is just a house and someone wants to live here… Heard they got it for a song.” He gave a dismissive shake of his head. “Let’s crack on. Help me get the lights set up, so we can see.”
Slowly, Dan set to work, leery of the dark corners, constantly casting looks around.
A sudden sound made them both turn and look into the darkness.
Steve swore. “Rats – I hate rats.”
He shone his torch, but there was no sign of scampering rodents.
“Let’s go,” murmured Dan. “Come on, mate…”
But, Steve wasn’t listening. He took a half-step forward, leant a little closer to the far wall. Dan followed his gaze.
In the beam of the light, mortar and dirt trickled from between the bricks of the cellar wall.
“Weird…” muttered Steve.
“Let’s go.”
The flow of dust quickened and began to swirl up as if caught in a vortex of air. As they watched, the dust seemed to form itself into the vague shape of a man. It stared at them with empty black pits in place of eyes. A wave of emotion, like searing heat, hit them, an unmistakable feeling of raw hatred.
Both men shivered, the burning rage leaving the chill of fear in its wake.
Dan half turned. “Let’s go.”
With a wail that mixed hatred and terror and misery in equal measure, it surged across the cellar, a cloud of filth with barely any coherent shape to it.
Dan ran, sprinting for the stairs.
Behind him, Steve screamed in terror, his cry mingling with the awful wail before transforming into choking gasps.
Dan glanced back. Steve’s torch had rolled off into a corner, so he could barely see his friend, but he had the impression Steve’s back was arched, his head thrown back, with dust and filth pouring down his throat to suffocate him.
Choking back nausea, Dan ran up the stairs and through the house. He fell to his knees on the front path, sobbing.
In the light of day, he couldn’t quite believe what he’d seen down there – but, there was no damn way he was going back into the cellar to learn the truth.
He pulled out his phone and pressed 999. “Hello. Ambulance, please.”
He didn’t know what they’d find down in the darkness. He just hoped they’d make it out alive.
Behind him, dust began to trickle over the doorstep and down the path, like a creeping snake. Dan ended the call, waited, unaware.
DJ Tyrer dwells on the misty northern shore of the Thames estuary, close to the world’s longest pleasure pier in the decaying seaside resort of Southend-on-Sea, and is the person behind Atlantean Publishing. They have been widely published in anthologies and magazines around the world, such as Alone in the Borderland (Belanger Books), Chilling Horror Short Stories (Flame Tree), All The Petty Myths (18th Wall), Steampunk Cthulhu (Chaosium), What Dwells Below (Sirens Call), The Horror Zine’s Book of Ghost Stories (Hellbound Books), and EOM: Equal Opportunity Madness (Otter Libris), and issues of Sirens Call, Hypnos, Occult Detective Magazine, parABnormal, and Weirdbook, and in addition, has a novella available in paperback and on the Kindle, The Yellow House (Dunhams Manor).
DJ Tyrer's website is at https://djtyrer.blogspot.co.uk/
DJ Tyrer's Facebook page is at https://www.facebook.com/DJTyrerwriter/
The Atlantean Publishing website is at https://atlanteanpublishing.wordpress.com/
