The Quiet House Read online

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  Joe told me that it had started when he was sitting in the living room, unpacking yet more boxes. He had left the radio on in the kitchen to dispel the silent gloom. There was a talk show of some description but he wasn’t really paying attention. As he started opening boxes, sorting them into rooms accordingly, the radio suddenly cut out. The silence descended instantly and Joe, puzzled, had walked into the kitchen. He tried the radio’s power button a few times but nothing happened. He’d tried the mains, still no luck.

  The lights were still on and everything else seemed to be working, perhaps a fuse had gone, he thought to himself. Sighing he walked over to the cellar door and opened it. There was a slightly damp smell, the smell of fresh plaster. Joe had turned on the little, dim, light and headed down the stairs. The cellar itself was barely the size of a cupboard with only just enough room for the fuse box and the boiler. Joe stared at the box. No breakers were tripped and there was nothing to suggest anything was wrong.

  As he stared there came from above the most hellish noise. It was as though someone was screaming one long cry without a pause for breath. Joe had run up the stairs to find not a person screeching but the radio. Horrendous mixes of static and high pitched whines that so mimicked the sound of someone in terrible distress that it made him feel a terrible dread. He could feel the noise in his teeth. Leaping forward he ripped the radio out of the socket. The awful noise instantly vanished, to be replaced by a ringing in Joe’s ears. He was shaking and his heart was racing rapidly. Slowly he had managed to calm himself down and all he was left with was a worry that the neighbours would complain.

  Not wanting to repeat the experience Joe made a note to speak to the landlords in case of some faulty wiring. He decided to leave the radio off for the rest of the day, just in case. But the oppressive silence and the slight fear that at any moment another ear-splitting scream might appear broke his nerve. He left the house and didn’t return until late in the evening.

  The electrician arrived early the next day and checked the place over for any faults. He was there for a good long while, Joe feeling grateful to have someone else around the place. But as time wore on and it seemed that there was no fault to find the man became anxious to leave the house.

  “Check the radio,” he said, “If it’s old there might be a problem with that. Not a problem I’ve heard of before but it certainly isn’t the wiring here.” He said a quick goodbye and hurried off, leaving Joe standing in the hall. He sighed and went to take the radio. He didn’t have any idea how to go about fixing it so just decided to go and buy a new one. But that could wait and Joe had work to be getting on with.

  The day passed without further incident and, as the moon began to ascend above the city skyline, Joe headed to bed. Yet as he slept he was visited by a terrible nightmare. He seemed to be lying in a bedroom. The bed, the cupboard, and the chest of drawers were all laid out the same as his own; but there was no door and no window. It was dark except for this strange red glow that just about illuminated the room. He was bound hand and foot to the bed and there was a terrible smell in his nostrils. He struggled against the bonds but they held firm. Suddenly, from all around him, there came this terrible thumping noise. It was so loud it was painful and as Joe howled in agony he awoke with a start.

  Somehow, though, the thumping remained. It wasn’t as painfully loud but he could still hear it and it was coming from downstairs. It sounded like someone stamping around inside his house. A panic gripped him and, with courage born of his fatigue, Joe ran downstairs to investigate. The thumping was louder on the ground floor but he hadn’t been able to find its source. It seemed to come from all around him. It was when he approached the bathroom that the noise grew louder and more insistent.

  With his heart in his throat Joe opened the door. The darkness of the bathroom seemed deeper than normal and the terrible thumping seemed to grow louder. With shaking hands Joe reached for the light switch and turned it on.

  The thumping ceased as the room exploded into light. It took a few moments for Joe’s eyes to adjust and as he stared he saw nothing. There was nothing in the bathroom. It was all perfectly normal, with nothing out of place; Joe exhaled slowly. It must have been the pipes, he thought, nothing more than that. His exhaustion came creeping up on him. It was half past two in the morning and he had work soon. Turning off the light he headed upstairs and was asleep in moments.

  The next day brought a fresh start and Joe left for work feeling only slightly tired from his odd experience. His day passed without note and by the evening he had quite forgotten about the nightmare. The next few days brought further peace and eventually Joe started to feel that he was growing accustomed to his little house and its odd quirks. Clearly he just needed some time to get used to it. He bought a new radio, had no issues with it, and his sleep remained untroubled. So he decided to invite Sophie, a friend of his from work, back home that evening to watch films and have some pizza. Sophie, he told me, was a year older than him, just about his height and with fair hair. She had started at the company a little while before Joe and had been helping him out with his new job.

  They headed back to his house that evening and Joe gave her the brief tour. When they came to the living room Sophie stared.

  “I think you need to clean your windows.” She said. He had followed her gaze and seen that, pressed against the window, were handprints. There were just a few, thick with grease, over each of the panes. Joe stepped over to them and tested them against his hand.

  “I could have sworn there was nothing there this morning.” He muttered half to himself. The prints were much large than his own and the fingers were much too long and thin. His confusion only grew when he realised the prints were on the outside of the window. In front of the living room there was a drop down below street level, to where the bins were kept, and from the roadside there was a large iron fence. No one could have reached the window without having access to the lower level and bringing a ladder with them.

  “It’s ok,” Sophie said, “Just draw the curtains and ignore them. You probably just didn’t notice them before. Are you all right, Joe?” She added, seeing his expression.

  Joe remembered about the radio and his odd dream, for a moment he considered telling Sophie. “I’m fine.” He said eventually. “Just a bit confused.

  Joe stepped out for a minute to prepare some drinks. When he returned Sophie looked a little uncomfortable. “It’s really quiet here, weirdly quiet.” She said.

  “I know.” Joe said. “I usually keep some music or the radio on. How about we start watching the film?” Sophie was very much in favour of this proposition and they settled down for the evening.

  Later, once the pizza had arrived and subsequently been eaten, Sophie got up to use the bathroom. She was gone some time but Joe thought not to mention it. Only when she walked in, white as a sheet, did he grow concerned. He asked her if she was ok.

  “I don’t feel too good.” She said. “I don’t know what it is, just suddenly came on.”

  “Do you feel like throwing up?”

  “I don’t- I don’t know.” Sophie said.

  “Well why don’t we go back to the bathroom and-“

  “No!” Sophie said quickly. “No, I think it would just be best if I went home.”

  Joe was a little disappointed but she looked so ill that he had to concede to her wishes. Gathering up the things she brought the two of them left, Joe walking her some of the way to make sure she would be all right. A few minutes in the brisk evening air and Sophie started to look a little better but still was set on heading home for the evening.

  As they reached the underground station and Joe started to turn back Sophie grabbed him. “You don’t have a roommate, do you?” She asked and Joe laughed.

  “Do you really think it’s big enough for two people?” He said.

  “It’s just,” she paused, “when I was in the bathroom it felt like there was someone there. You know the feeling when som
eone is standing just behind you? It felt like that.” She looked at Joe. “Sorry, I’m being stupid. Forget I said anything, I’m just not feeling well.”

  Joe waited until she was out of sight before heading back home, thinking about Sophie’s words. There wasn’t anyone else in the house, he was sure of that. Sophie was just unwell and not used to the quiet. But when he got back he couldn’t shake the thought out of his head. He just kept thinking about what Sophie had said about the feeling of someone looking just over his shoulder. He went upstairs and went straight to bed. Just to be safe he put his headphones in and listened to music, so no strange thumping sounds could disturb him.

  Joe hadn’t dreamt that night, or if he did he told me he didn’t remember it. He awoke feeling drained and to the sound of rain on the windows. He went downstairs and saw that the rain had washed the windows clean, and there was no more trace of the strange handprints.

  Later, once he had gone to work, he’d met up with Sophie who was embarrassed and apologised for her behaviour the previous night. She said that she must have imagined it and had felt silly the whole journey home. Joe laughed about it with her and admitted that the place sometimes spooked him too but he knew there was nothing to be afraid of.

  However tHHHhat