The House of Wood Read online

  The House of Wood

  Anthony Price

  Copyright © 2013 by Anthony Price

  Photography: Sikth

  Artwork: Crooked Cat

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Crooked Cat Publishing except for brief quotations used for promotion or in reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Printed by Crooked Cat Publishing at Smashwords

  First Black Line Edition, Crooked Cat Publishing Ltd. 2013

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  www.crookedcatpublishing.com

  Contact Information:

  [email protected]

  For

  my family.

  Love you all.

  About the Author

  Anthony Price is a twenty-eight year old male residing in the UK, in Canterbury.

  An avid reader and film fanatic, he was first published at age fifteen and since achieving his MA in Creative Writing, has had several short stories published in e-zines and anthologies. He’s also the author of his own horror anthology titled, Tales of Merryville, which is available to buy in e-book format on Amazon.

  He’s currently working on several creative projects to look out for in the future, including more young adult novels, a feature film and a TV show.

  Acknowledgements

  Firstly, I’d like to thank my editor Laurence Patterson and Crooked Cat Publishing for not only believing in me as a writer, but for having as much faith in this book as I do.

  I’d also like to thank Carl Muddiman for sacrificing his hands taking my superfast dictation. I’ll make sure that I go slower next time.

  A big thank you has to go to my granddad, without whose love and support I never would have achieved my MA in Creative Writing, which sowed the seeds for this novel.

  And to my sister, Stacey, whose opinion I’ll always seek out first when it comes to editing.

  But the biggest thank you has to go to my parents who raised me to think big and to never let any obstacle stand in my way. Without your love, I wouldn’t be around today.

  Finally, thank you to everyone that buys this book. Without you, I wouldn’t have a job.

  Anthony Price

  Canterbury 2013

  The House of Wood

  Prologue

  Silent it stood. The house of wood on the hill. Nothing surrounding it but fields. A vast, open expanse stretching as far as the eye could see. Ancient woodlands dotted the fields like pox marks. But, the house stood like a solitary statue, alone and foreboding. Its whitewashed wood shone out on the stark landscape like a beacon of despair. The only decoration was a single, dead oak tree in the front garden. A child’s swing hung limply from a lifeless branch. No one lived there anymore. They hadn’t for years. Without love and care the building had fallen into disrepair. Now, only the blackbirds were brave enough to land nearby. Usually, nothing stirred, except the swing blowing in the cold breeze. But not today. Two shadows danced across the window.

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Come on, it’s fun.”

  “Please, I can help you. Just let me go.”

  “I don’t need help,” the standing shadow snarled. Its hand whipped out, landing with a sharp snap across the face of the battered and bruised victim tied to the chair. “No one can help me.”

  The victim stared at the attacker. There was no way out. The rope bit the flesh of their wrists as they tried to twist free. Pain filled them. Tears welled in their eyes.

  “Awww, poor baby. Here, let me wipe your eyes.” A piercing scream filled the night air, as fingers jammed in to the sockets. “All better now?”

  “I just want to go home,” the victim sobbed, all hope evaporating. “Please, let me go.”

  “You’re not leaving me. You’re never leaving me.” A perverse smile stretched across the attacker’s face. “We’re meant to be, you know that, sugar pie.”

  “I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “But you love me. You always have.”

  “No I don’t, you’re deluded and you need help.”

  “There you go again, denying your feelings. Well I know how to cure that.”

  The attacker’s shadow slid across the living room floor, stopping at the open fireplace. Flames swayed like Egyptian belly dancers, hypnotic and seductive. The face of McCain in the portrait over the mantel stared out.

  “What’re you doing? Look, someone will come up here and stop you. Let me go now and you can escape, I won’t send the police.”

  “Now, now sugar pie, I got a surprise for you.” The attacker turned towards the victim. “You’ll like this.”

  A petrified scream filled the night air. A young girl stood silently by her swing, watching the couple, a dark red stain across her beautiful white dress. She turned away, her expressionless face looking out over the desolate hillside. She sat down on her swing, and listened to the agonising screams emerging from the house.

  Chapter One

  Sunlight shone down through the narrow windows of the lecture theatre, and dust mites twinkled like stars as they carried out their playful dance around the room. All that could be heard was the monotonous droning of the professor and the occasional yawn from a student. Sullen faces dotted the seating area, some chewing gum, others slowly drooping in to slumber. The ticking of the clock seemed louder and more ominous in the cavernous room. It was typical for a Friday afternoon lecture.

  Rachel James’ pen scratched away at her notepad, trying to keep up with the professor who was speaking at a million kilometres an hour. She had to get these notes down if she ever wanted to pass her mid-terms. So far she was flunking. A failure on this next test would spell her doom. She’d be out. And that meant going home.

  “Okay class,” the professor said, leaning across the front of his desk. “I know how you all love exams, so I’m going to set you a pop quiz for next Tuesday.”

  A chorus of groans erupted from the students, all of them knowing that their weekend plans were now dashed. Not that it bothered Rachel. She didn’t have any. There was hardly ever a weekend that went by where she did. She wasn’t a drink-until-you-puke kind of girl.

  “I know, I know, I’ve heard it all before.”

  The bell rang out above Rachel’s head, making her jump.

  “Okay, that’s it for today. Read chapters fifteen through twenty for the test next week.” The professor gave them a sinister smile. He was enjoying himself. “Have fun this weekend.”

  Rachel finished scribbling down the last notes. It was as if she were invisible; people just walked past her without paying any attention, or even acknowledging her existence. Every now and then, someone would swing around too sharply and bash her in the head with a rucksack. She may as well have been a ghost.

  She slung her things in to her own bag and stood up to leave. All she wanted to do was get out of the stuffy room and get back to her dorm.

  “Rachel,” the professor called from behind his desk. “Can you come here for a second?”

  Great, that’s all I need, she thought. She threw her bag over her shoulder and walked down the steps towards the front of the class. The professor ignored her for several moments while he tidied up his desk.

  “You do know you’re failing, don’t you Rachel?” he asked, without looking up.

  “Yes.”

  “And you do know that you need to pass this next exam, in order to remain on my course?”

  “Yes, professor.” She knew what was co
ming. This wasn’t the first time.

  He stopped and looked at her. His eyes roved over her, undressing her in his mind. He licked his hand and greased back his grey hair. “I can guarantee you that A if...”

  Rachel didn’t know what to say. Even though this moment had been building up for a while, a look here, a comment there, it had still taken her by surprise. She watched him as he stepped closer. Her blood was beginning to boil. Why do men think they can intimidate women like this? She fumed.

  “What?”

  She leaned in, licking her lips and fluttering her eyelids.

  “I could make life so easy for you. Come on, tell me what you think?”

  “I think,” she said, “That you’re a dirty old man, who has tried this far too often.”

  A loud crack echoed around the room, as her hand swung out and slapped him in the face, leaving a large red hand print on a stunned cheek. He staggered back a step.

  “How dare you think you can intimidate me,” she screamed at him. “It’s men like you that make women feel as though it’s not safe for them to go out at night. You disgusting little pervert.”

  “Y-y-you can’t hit a teacher. I’ll have you thrown out.”

  “I couldn’t give a damn what you do.” She leaned in close to his face, fire burning in her eyes. “And I will be getting that A.”

  With that she left, slamming the heavy double doors behind her. She learned a long time ago to not let anybody get the better of her. She’d been through too much in her life already. The last thing she was going to do was bow down to some old has-been.

  She strolled across the quad, dodging footballs and Frisbees flying through the unseasonably warm October air, as throngs of people enjoyed the brilliant sunshine. There were far too many for her liking.

  Tucking her books under her arm, she checked the time on her watch. She was going to be late getting to the campus library. It wasn't far from the lecture theatre, but the time she spent walking there was time wasted. She should have been heading back to her dorm to study, instead of meeting a friend. The words of her professor echoed in her ears. There was no way on God’s earth she could afford to get kicked out of college. She wasn’t going to end up back home.

  Her steps quickened, as the sun dipped behind white clouds. She kept her eyes fixed to the floor, avoiding eye contact with anybody. At times she wished she could just disappear. Rachel hated being around crowds; the mass of students on the quad was like her worst nightmare. In a way though, she felt jealous. She didn’t have lots of friends to just hang out with in the sun, or go partying with every weekend. Except for a couple of the girls in her dorm, there was no one. She couldn’t connect with people anymore. She was too afraid of what they might do to her.

  It didn’t take her as long as she thought it would to reach the library. It was a tall building that loomed large over the surrounding area, casting long shadows across the street. The sides of it were surrounded by huge glass windows that reflected during the day, but allowed curious eyes to look in after dark. It featured a café; two garden terraces, one with views over the city; and an atrium. The long, winding staircase coiled its way upwards like a snake in the centre of the lobby. Students dashed to and fro across wide bridges connecting the never ending lines of dusty books, hurrying to meet their deadlines. There was hardly ever anyone up top, which is why she didn’t mind it. She knew her friend would be up there.

  As she reached the top step, a short blonde girl came bouncing towards her.

  “Hey, I wondered where you got to,” Becky Sawyer said, “It wasn’t that sleaze-ball Professor Hoganstein holding you up again was it?”

  “As a matter of fact it was.”

  “Oh my God, what’re you going to do about it?”

  “Nothing. There isn’t a lot I can do.”

  Becky looked at her sternly. “Of course there is. For starters, you can go to the cops and report him. You could get him fired. It’s no more than he deserves.”

  Rachel knew she was right. Becky was always right. This was at least the second time he had tried it on with a student. Last time, the girl ended up leaving and he got away with it. Some even said she was pregnant.

  “What can I do? The police won’t do anything without me being able to prove it beyond reasonable doubt and the College Board will be the same. They'll interview him, but he'll just lie and make it worse for me.”

  “Surely it's worth a shot?”

  “No, I think it’ll be best if I just leave it. I need to concentrate on my studies. Something like that will be distracting and I can do without it. Men like him always come out on top. It's the way of the world.”

  “Well I think you're stupid. What if it gets more serious next time? Or he tries it on with someone else who isn't as strong as you?”

  “I don't know. I guess we’ll just have to hope it doesn't. Now can we change the subject, please?”

  Her friend said nothing, as the two of them went to find a quiet corner in the library café. It wasn’t hard to find; the entire place was virtually empty, which was a surprise, considering the mid-terms were fast approaching.

  The two of them had been friends since the first day of college three years ago. At that time they had been in separate rooms, but were in a lot of the same classes together. They had seemed to gel and were inseparable now.

  She listened, as Becky chatted away about nothing in particular, and Rachel nodded and disagreed in the right places. It’s funny how two people that are completely different can get along so well, she thought. Becky was a talker and a people person, but Rachel liked that about her. It reminded her of a friend she once had back home. Becky was her best friend and she’d be lost without her. If it wasn’t for her, Rachel realised, she probably never would have made it this far. In all honesty, it was amazing she had made it to college at all.

  “So are you coming tonight or not?”

  The question snapped Rachel back to the present. She had been thinking about home, but couldn’t remember why. It wasn’t something she did often.

  “Are you okay, Rachy-Bear? You look pale.”

  “Yeah, sorry I just switched off for a minute. What were you saying?”

  “You’ve been doing that a lot lately. I wish you would go to the doctors about it.” She sipped at her coffee. “Anyway, I was just saying that Ritchie and the guys over at Sigma Nu are having a party tonight. It’s going to be wild. Do you want to come?”

  “No I don’t think so,” Rachel replied.

  “Why not? You always lock yourself away in that dorm room of ours.”

  “I had a wild night out once before. It didn’t go too well.”

  Becky took Rachel’s hand in her own. “You’ve got to stop living in the past. It’s not healthy for you to keep dwelling on that. I know you went through a lot, but we’ve only got one year of college left and you have to start enjoying it, or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

  Rachel sat for a moment. Part of her wanted to go, but she couldn’t bring herself to say yes.

  “No, I think I’ll stay at home. I’ve got way too much work to get done, before these damn exams start.”

  “It won’t be the same without you.”

  “Sorry.”

  The two of them sat in the café for another forty-five minutes talking about mundane things. Clouds had begun to gather outside, casting a gloomy shroud over the city. Rachel’s body was there, but her mind was elsewhere. She didn’t know why, but something wasn’t right. She put it down to the stress of being harassed by her professor and the approaching test which could seal her fate.

  She stared out of the window. Something wasn’t right.

  ***

  Day had long crept in to night over the campus. It was empty, like a hollow shell. The excitement was elsewhere. On campus it was just dark, the students either hidden away in their rooms studying, or out spewing their guts up after too much alcohol. The night seemed heavy and oppressive; a black veil over what had been a bri
ght autumnal day.

  Rachel sat in the room, studying hard for her exam. Her eyes poured over the textbooks and notes that she had made, seeing, but not understanding. To her they may as well have been hieroglyphs from an ancient land. She kept looking at the Hello Kitty clock hanging on the far wall. It was one o’ clock in the morning. Late. But not too late for a student party, she guessed. Although Becky usually rang if she was going to be out past midnight. Where was she?

  She closed the textbook with a dull thud and sat up on the bed. All day long she had felt something. Something wrong. She just couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Sliding off the bed, she made her way over to the window and looked out at the night. She hated the dark. Everything about it was alien to her. Remorseless and unforgiving. It hadn’t always been that way. The same as she hadn’t always avoided contact with people, or stopped them from getting too close to her. She wasn’t even sure if she would be able to forget her past. It had played on her mind relentlessly for the last week or so, dragging her back to the horror. She had woken up several times, drenched in icy cold sweat, screaming out a single name. Justin. Why it was happening to her now, she had no idea. All she knew, was she would never go back to Willows Peak.

  She walked over to the front door, checking the bolt and extra locks were shut tight. The soft sounds of music filtered through the wall. The students in the next room were probably at it again. Rachel had become accustomed to their sexual habits, as they always played the same songs; a soft rock ballad, or Barry White. In a way, it made her jealous. She wanted to be able to feel the embrace of a man, the ecstasy of making love. She had tried, but when it actually came to the crunch, she closed up like a coffin. Never to be opened again.