A joke via text. That was how it had started out.
I think I need to step back more. It wasn't just a text; it was something that'd been going on for the past six months. My old friend Eliza and I had been growing apart a little, ever since winter break in senior year. I didn't know what prompted it. How I had started dressing more like a punk singer ever since she got me that Twisted Titty CD, perhaps, or maybe it was her new boyfriend, that lanky clown Joe Corrente.
Either way, when she suddenly suggested another sleepover at the Zveroby House, I was all too happy to agree.
Yeah, you're probably wondering why we would consider sleeping over at the abandoned home of some crazy poet from Russia to be 'fun', but that was just something we did. I was always big on frights. If there was a new horror movie at the theater, or some haunted carnival in town, you'd bet that I'd be there, right at the front of the line.
I should've been suspicions when she asked me to do it that night, but I was just too happy at the prospect of spending quality time with my friend again. I didn't bother to change; I simply grabbed my pajamas, a sleeping bag, and a swiss army knife I'd gotten from my dad before he passed.
I only paused to check myself in the mirror I had on my room. I wasn't some blonde bombshell on legs, but I was still pleased with my appearance. Raven hair pulled into pigtails, with matching black lipstick that highlighted just how pale I was, and my black shirt and skirt complimented my thin form.
Well, thin in some areas. I was still uncomfortable with how large my breasts had gotten, especially when I went to buy new bras (hard to find 32DDD that weren't for grandmas), but at least it wasn't as bad as poor Jessica, who had to get surgery when she was seventeen due to the back pain.
I bounded down the stairs, only pausing to tell my mother that I was heading out, to which she simply responded with a grunt as she continued watching the tv. I pursed my lips at that, but it didn't stop me from leaving the house in a rush.
As I stepped out into the late afternoon sun, I could feel a stillness in the air. Even as the sun warmed my face, I could see dark clouds in the distance, promising thunder. I suddenly understood why Eliza was so keen on doing the sleepover tonight; the weather was perfect. It made me think of all the other times we'd spent in the house, listening to the thunder as we played games and told each other scary stories.
The weather started getting worse as I walked to the Zverogy House, and by the time I finally arrived at the rusted gate, the sky had turned the color of coal. I simply spent a few moments there, soaking it in. The mighty pine trees that ringed they yard swayed and rustled in the wind that had come with the clouds, and the dark, peeling walls of the Edwardian-style house before me perfectly complimented the weather.
Smiling to myself, I practically skipped up the beaten cobblestone path, and pulled out my Swiss army knife. Picking the tarnished lock was child's play, and the door slowly creaked open, revealing a desolate living room. Out in a desert town like my home, dust didn't collect easily, and so my sinus were unassailed as I hopped inside and shut the door behind me.
Considering the lack of light in the house, I knew Eliza hadn't arrived yet, but I didn't worry. She always arrived late. Instead, I simply made my way over to the hall in the middle of the house, the one with the portraits of some Russian artists whose names escaped me. Unfurling my sleeping bag, I set it down on the hardwood floor, then began changing into my bed clothes. Nothing fancy; just a black t-shirt and my pajama bottoms.
Sitting down in a lotus position on the sleeping bag, I pulled out my phone and opened my messaging app.
Where r u?
Almost there came the reply.
I frowned, then flopped down on the sleeping bag, arms spread wide. The cavernous ceiling loomed over me, and I could see a few motes of dust floating freely in the air, following chaotic paths. A distant rumble of thunder reached my ears, sending a pleasant shiver up my spine, and I closed my eyes.
I probably stayed there for a good ten minutes before a faint sound reached my ears, something that definitely wasn't from the weather. I sat back up, then grabbed my phone and turned on the flashlight, sweeping the beam across the hall.
Nothing.
I laid back down, then jumped when my phone buzzed. I opened the app, hoping it was Eliza, but it was just my mom telling me that she was going in for a late shift. Sighing, I decided to stand up and stretch my legs.
My phone buzzed again, and I was excited to see it was Eliza. That excitement faded rather quickly, however, when I saw the message.
Take off your shirt for me again, baby.
My eyes widened.
What? I replied. L, what's up?
No answer.
Biting my lip, I turned on my phone's flashlight and looked around again, listening for any more suspicious noises. Every shadow, every odd nook or cranny, had become a place that dark thoughts lurked in.
"Liz?" I called out, slowly tip-toeing through the hallway. "You there?"
There was a clap of thunder, far closer than before, and I jolted. Rain began to patter against the grimy windows, and I realized that it'd be a lot harder to listen in for anything moving around.
I decided to move down the hall, towards the back door; Liz sometimes came through there, especially if she was in a pranking mood. Yet the dust on the door was undisturbed when I shone my light on it, and I felt a chill across my back.
"This is pretty lame so far," I said aloud. "C'mon, Liz. You gonna pop out of the closet or something?"
To prove my point, I crept towards the other side of the house, where the old dining room was. The pantry door faced me, and I noticed some marks in the dust. Grinning despite my jitters, I slowly grasped the doorknob, and swung it open.
Empty.
My phone chose that time to buzz again, and I looked down at the message.
Got you.
I didn't have time to register it before a muscular arm wrapped around my neck, pulling me flush against a solid torso. I choked and wheezed, clutching uselessly at the arm as it pressed tighter against my throat.
"Hello, Katya," a breathy voice said in my ear, definitely a man. His other hand snaked up my torso, and I winched as he roughly grabbed my breast through the fabric of my shirt and bra. "Oooh, nice and ripe."
I could practically feel my pupils shrink in terror as I felt something hard poke at my backside, trying to snake between my asscheeks.
Oh god, I thought. Oh god, oh god oh god.
