“Honey, I’m gonna go clean up the attic!” Brenda called out to her husband who was setting up the computer in their downstairs den. Moving into their new home proved to be an uphill battle. Their “fixer upper” had more than its share of issues, but the smell of dust and mold finally grew on Brenda.
She pulled the cord that dropped the stairs to the attic. She waited a beat as the stairs conked against the wooden floor and then started her climb. At the top of the stairs, Brenda paused and surveyed the damage. The attic contained typical attic faire – boxes, old doll houses, covered up furniture, and moth-eaten clothes. She stood up and pulled her work gloves over her hands.
“Let’s see what we have here.” Brenda started for her first box. She pulled back the ancient masking tape and pealed back the box flap. A folded up blanket was at the top. It was imprinted with yellow ducks. A baby blanket, she realized. She noticed a faint pink smudge on the corner of the blanket.
“Lipstick.” Brenda whispered.
She lifted the blanket out of the box and shook it out. Clouds of dust puffed from the blanket.
“No spiders. Thank God.” Brenda said. She figured a good wash and repairing the holes would make the blanket suitable for a garage sale. She placed the blanket at the top of the stairs for her keep pile.
She reached for the next item in the box. It was a stuffed toy chameleon that changed color under the dim sunlight from the attic window. As she examined its potential, she heard a creaking sound behind her. Brenda turned to see the attic stairs shutting. She dropped the toy and raced to the closed exit.
“Shit.” Brenda said. She pressed her foot against the stairs, expecting them to drop but they didn’t budge.
“Shit,” she said again. A soft knocking distracted her from the closed exit. Forgetting the stairs for the moment, Brenda crept closer to the mysterious noise. It came from a pile of boxes in the back corner of the attic.
“Hello?” She called out. Sudden images of victims trapped in the walls of the house and the killer coming back for them flashed in her brain. She shuddered. “No more Stephen King books for me.”
As Brenda got closer, the knocking grew louder. She noticed a light behind the boxes, one she hadn’t noticed before. She pushed against the wall of boxes. The knocking stopped as Brenda continued and inch by inch the light grew bigger. When the boxes were shoved over, she saw a stairway leading upwards to somewhere.
“What the hell?” Brenda asked. The stairway was carved and made of stone. The walls clean and smooth. A painted design decorated each step.
“Follow me.” A voice called out.
“Hello?” Brenda took one step inside and looked up. She couldn’t see anything without getting closer and took one step at a time up the stairwell.
This was my entry to last weeks blog hop writing prompt! The required words are in bold. Make sure you come back tomorrow morning for this weeks writing prompt!
Also, this is part of an ongoing blog story, so click this link to find out what happen’s next!
I love that line. "no more Stephen King books for me."Good story.
I said the same thing about Criminal Minds – no more of it, that is. š I want to know where she goes, though. Maybe tomorrow's prompt …. ? š
for some reason, I thinking a new fresh version of Alice in Wonderland!
Interesting story! And yes old houses are great settings for both horror and fantasy! I like old houses and things stored in attics because you can learn a lot about your family. A lot of things can be stored in the attic. Nice post!