Larissa's POV

It's cold, but the creaking of the stairs is enough to grab my attention. "Who's there?" Hearing no answer, I slowly creep forward, wishing Adrian is here. Why isn't he here? I hear another creek and what sounds like someone groaning in pain. As quietly as I can, I creep closer and closer to the edge of the landing, looking down the stairs. I can hear faint cries in the distance. Moving closer, I poke my head around the corner and squint my eyes to have a closer look.

It is darker than a grave. No light, not even a slight glow from the street lamps outside illuminates the darkness. I hear the groan again, it is loud in the tomb-like silence, and I hesitantly make the decision to carefully start looking for the source of the noise.

As I get closer to the bottom floor, the darkness gets thicker and thicker, almost as if it's a blanket trying to suffocate me. Feeling my way around the unfamiliar house I follow the muffled sounds until I reach an open door leading down, the stairs illuminated by a faint glow of light.

The groaning is definitely coming from here. As I make my way down the stairs, what I find is enough to make my heart stop beating. "Adrian! Oh my god, Adrian!" I rush down the rest of the flight of stairs, coming to land on my knees beside my husband, the skirt of my nightgown covered in blood as I start searching for the source.

It doesn't take me long before my eyes catch sight of what caused this. There, in the corner I see a glint of silver and hear a chuckle before someone is rushing at me as I let out a scream.

"Larissa!, Larissa, wake up!" I choke on my scream as I'm shaken awake, opening my eyes to see Adrian's terrified face above me.

Adrian's POV

"Baby, it's ok now - don't cry! It's all going to be ok." Her glittering eyes look up at me in confusion. "It was just a dream." I reach out, pulling Larissa into my arms as I try to comfort her, smoothing down her tangled hair with hands that are almost too big for her head. My heart speeds when her shivers fail to cease. Glancing over to the clock I realize the digital display is blinking at exactly 12:00 A.M. I wait. The time doesn't change. Great, the clock is either faulty, or the power went out sometime in the night. The wind is still howling and rain lashes at the windows - so much for a peaceful first night in our new home.

Or maybe that's only what I wish for, to feel this house as a home for us.

I thought the doctor said her nightmares would end, but lately they seem to be getting more frequent. If only I had remembered to fill her prescription before we left Baton Rouge. For now I just need to do what Dr. Lane suggested and try to calm her down as quickly as possible. We're more than 45 minutes from the nearest hospital, and I can't afford to take her out in this storm. "Wh - why is this happening again, Adrian? I've done everything she told us to do-" Her words break into sobs as she buries her face in my chest, her hands choking my shirt in a death grip.

I rub her back tentatively and whisper, "I know, baby, I know. It's just a minor setback and things will get better again. Just listen to my voice and try to calm down." She moves her head against my shirt, and I can feel the stain of her sweat and tears sticking cooly to my skin. I hold her, still, afraid to move and unsure what she needs, as she clings on to me like her life depends on it. Cross-legged next to my thighs, we hold each other awkwardly but neither of us are aware.

Sluggishly her grips become slack and she groans in protest as I lower her down next to me. It only takes a moment before she once again drifts blissfully off into a deep slumber. Being careful not to wake her, I gently lay her back on the pillows and pull the blankets up under her chin. I sit and watch her silently, hoping that this time she sleeps through the rest of the night.

***

"Adrian, come on, wake up! It's almost 8:30!" I find myself being roused by the sound of Larissa's voice and the strong but welcome scent of fresh coffee. Rubbing my eyes, I open them to see the curtains drawn back, allowing the warm rays of sunlight to flood our bedroom.

The bedroom we claimed as our own is similar to the rest of the house. It is old, obviously, with dated carpeting and curtains. The bed frame is rusty and in need of an update. The only modern things are the new bed sheets and duvet Larissa picked out. As I slowly scan the room I see my loving wife standing in the doorway, hair tousled and a grin on her face as she holds a coffee mug in her hand.

"Hey sleepy head," she giggles cheerfully as if she has no memory of her nightmare last night. Good, I think to myself, she doesn't need to remember anything - she doesn't need to feel stressed again. My memory roams back to the storm last night - should we check if there are any leaks? It's our first day in the house and we should be as thorough as possible - does the insurance still cover everything?

"Honey?" Her voice chimes me back into reality. My eyes drift to the figure standing in front of me as I greedily drink in her presence: her bright hair glimmering under the morning light making her grass-green eyes glitter, and when she smiles, the corners of her mouth fade into a light shade of pink as her soft lips part just a bit - just enough to see a hint of her teeth; her smiles are deadly contagious, making me shiver and grin foolishly with her, and we both laugh at the ridiculous gesture.

Her hips angle, leaning against the door frame, and her legs are casually crossed as she tilts her head sideways, examining my stupid stare with her signature beam.

"What are you staring at?" She says, pausing her words playfully as she moved closer.

"You, of course," I narrow my eyes as I return her smirk.

"Have your coffee," she shoves the mug a bit too quickly into my hands - it almost spills. She pauses, alarmed, before her hands come to rest on mine and the mug stabilizes. "There you go." her smile returns as she sits down next to me.

"Have you unpacked everything yet?" The hot brown liquid enters my mouth as I swallow greedily. This is what I look forward to every morning.

"No, not yet." She shrugs lightly. It'd been a hasty day moving in; none of the movers seemed to want to stay a minute longer in this strange town, they moved all the boxes in and left them piled in the living room before they scrambled away swiftly.

I greedily gulp down the coffee before setting the mug on the bedside table. Once my hands are free Larissa scoots closer and cuddles up to me, resting her head on my bare chest. I chuckle when she absentmindedly begins drawing patterns on my skin, "Shouldn't we be getting ready for a day of unpacking? We should probably also check to see if the roof leaked since it stormed last night-" Her breath on my neck stops my words and I reluctantly pull away placing my hands on her cheeks. "Come on honey, let's do something productive."

Kissing her quickly on the lips I slip from the bed and make my way towards the door, intent on getting something done today. I still have yet to think about what to get her for our three month anniversary, but looking at her bare neck now, I think I'm going to go find a jewelry store somewhere near here while I'm "working late", and surprise her with a necklace.

I've just finished unpacking the boxes marked 'Kitchen' when there was a knock on the door. Larissa calls from upstairs where she has been putting things away in the bathroom. "Babe, could you get that please?" Shaking my head I shout back, "Sure thing honey!" I glance at my watch noticing it's only 9am, who would be here that early? Pulling open the door I'm surprised to find the woman from yesterday with her hand raised to knock again. "Paige? What are you doing here?" The confusion in my voice is evident but she returns with a wide grin.

"I wanted to see how you two were doing. That was a doozy of a storm last night wasn't it?" I open the screen door for her to enter as I once again shout to Larissa, "Honey! Come downstairs, we have a visitor." Closing the door I lead Paige into the kitchen, "Coffee?" I offer as I grab the pot and pour myself a cup. "No thanks, I'm more of a tea person, caffeine doesn't really agree with my system, I'm already so hyper without it." I shrug at her odd comment, turning to grab the sugar container.

When I turn around Larissa is coming into the kitchen, "Larissa, honey, this is Paige, Paige Williams. She lives next door, just past the woods." I can see the questioning look on my wife's face as Paige speaks up, holding her hand out to Larissa.

"Adrian and I met briefly yesterday when I was being nosey. I wanted to see who had moved into this old place." She chuckles lightly.

Larissa returns her smile and shakes her hand for a moment, "He never mentioned it to me, but I guess that's because we were so busy looking around the place," she smiles brightly - that smile she often uses to mask her worries - but I'm not sure what she's worried about. "It's so nice to meet you, Paige, how long have you lived in Black Creek?"

Leaning on the counter, Paige breaks into a huge smile. "I was born and raised here, my family has lived here as long as anyone can remember. It's a great little town, you'll get used to it soon enough - the people are really friendly once you get to know them." I can't help but smile as I slowly sidle out of the kitchen, leaving the two women to talk. Hopefully Larissa will make a friend, she needs more social interaction than just me.

The two women's voices fade into murmurs as I leave the kitchen area. Turning down the corridors I walk through the house and down the curving stairs, refreshing myself with the routes again. Yesterday had been such a hassle, moving box after box; we'd gone to bed relatively early, both tired by the abrupt change in our lives. Now as I travel down the lit yellow corridors, I can still spot the faint crayon marks imprinted in the faded yellow wallpaper. I remember coming down here once, a long time ago, to visit my grandmother.

Gran Doris, we used to call her. Gran Doris was the kind of woman who'd kept her business to herself; she'd kept out of reach for all these years, living alone ever since Papa Don passed away. I'd never gotten the chance to know Papa Don, but Mother told me bits and pieces about Doris. All I know is how Gran Doris had gotten mad at Mother for wanting to move into the city, and five or six years after I was born Doris herself moved. Mother hadn't kept in touch with her after that.

Back in the days when my mother had just had me, she'd wanted to mend her broken relationship with Gran Doris. A barbecue was held - or rather an attempted one, where it ended in screaming and shouting, and a series of thumbs up the stairs, and Mother pulling the crayons out of my hands while I stared in confusion, cried and protested - I didn't know what was going on.

The news of Gran Doris moving out didn't hit us until two months after she died. The worry and disappointment on Mother's face were clear, but her stubbornness stopped her from saying anything, she just narrowed her eyes and waved a hand at the news. But when she turned around, the hurt on her face was unmistakable, and that was when I understood how much Gran Doris had hurt her.

The wallpaper still sit there, ageless and unmoved. But when I come closer I can see the specks of brown indicating its passing years, and the spots of green along the edges that mark its history.

At the end of the corridor the corners grow darker, and as I travel further I spot another flight of stairs down into the darkness. With a jolt I notice that the yellow bulbs ended about 20 feet away, and the rest of the corridor - including the stairs leading down - are unlit shadows. There is no end to the steps; the stairs disappear into the blackness about ten steps down, and when I glance down at the handrails they're covered in white streaks. It looks like scratches. I take a step closer to look --

"Adrian?" a voice cuts through my thoughts. I jump.

She stands at the opposite of the corridor, her eyebrows raised in question.

"Larissa?" My voice comes out hoarse. I clear my throat, "where's Paige?"

"I sent her off," she shrugs and looks away, "she had some errands to run." Her eyes direct back to me, "what are you looking at?"

"Nothing," I smile and break away from the steps, moving towards my wife. "Let's go unpack, shall we?" I put my hands on the small of her back, leading her towards the kitchen, "we have much to do."

"Actually," she turns around and grabs my hands, giving me her brightest smile. "I was hoping we could go outside for a bit of walk."

"What's wrong? I thought you wanted to unpack."

"Nothing." Her eyes dart away as she shrugs, "I just thought that we could go out for a bit, enjoy the sunshine after the storm, explore a bit of the neighborhood."

"Okay," I say hesitantly, "if that's what you want." She must've remembered her bad dreams last night. Maybe she's looking for some time outside the house.

"Let's go then!" Her shadowed eyes brighten instantly. "You wait for me outside, and I'll grab us both our coats. It's a bit windy outside."

"Actually," I stride past her - she gasps and tries to catch me with her grip - but I'm already at the stairs. "I was thinking of getting more of that delicious coffee from the pot - made by my wife." I jog up the steps twice at a time, almost sprinting for the hot liquid that wakes me up every single morning.

I look over my shoulder, with a smirk ready, hoping to see her face beaming up at my words.

But she stands on the stairs, her eyes wide and her brows clutched together. I open my mouth to ask her what's wrong, but she gives me no answer. It took me a moment to recognize that familiar expression - the one she has when she gets her nightmares.

"Don't turn around," she whispers.

But I do - and stop at my tracks. In front of me on the kitchen floor is a pool of thick brown liquid stretched across the tiles, a stark contrast against the cream-colored bricks. Pieces of broken glass lie hopelessly in the pool, their shattered tips blinding with reflection of the sunlight. Drowning, drowning almost peacefully.

How strange it is to drown peacefully.

Larissa's POV

"I said, don't turn around!" I almost yelled.

But he does. He does anyways. That's what he does, he never listens to me.

Our relationship has been a happy and exciting experience - we've connected so fast, it was like we just clicked the moment we met - and we got married four months after we started dating. Strange to other people, strange to my friends, strange to my family and my relatives, but never to us.

Adrian knew me. And it wasn't like knowing someone's favorite colors, their go-to flowers, or if they're a dog or cat person. Adrian knew me, he knows my soul, he accepts my problems and difficulties and I help him with his. We have so many moments where it always feels like we're riding off into the sunset. And maybe it is, maybe it isn't. People say the "honeymoon phase" would pass after a couple of months, but we don't believe that. Maybe we're making the best out of it. We've been married for just about three months now, and we're doing great. We're happy.

Except he never listens to me. He doesn't, no matter what I say.

I have secrets keeping from him, and I bet he has some that he's keeping from me too. I mean, every girl has their own secrets.

But we'll get into details someday.

And now he's standing in front of me with a horrific and accusatory stare in his eyes. Oh, crap. I swallow.

"Larissa?" I bite my lips at his hidden question. What should I tell him?

Paige had asked, how long are you guys staying here for? Paige had asked, what does your husband do? Paige had asked, what time does he usually leave and come back?

Just at the same time I hear something cry out in a distance. Maybe it's the voice inside of me.

That's enough, I'd said. And it happened.

"I..." My tongue is tied and I have nothing to say. Is he going to get angry? Is he going to ask me what happened? Is he going to shout at me? Is he --

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"Huh?" I gape at his questions. He's not angry, he's not asking me what happened, and he's not shouting.

"Did you spill it by accident while I was upstairs?" He asks worriedly.

I exhale, my fists unclutching. I nod, numbly. Paige had pushed me to my breaking point and I didn't hate her for it. I just resented the idea that she made this an option for me. I didn't intend to break the coffee pot, nor did I want the shards to create a undeniable mark in the chipped tiles.

I continue to stare at the broken shards on the floor. Adrian moves past me lightly, mapping out his footwork carefully so he doesn't step on the liquid or the glass. He takes out the mop from the cabinet behind and starts wiping the floor slowly. I stare, collecting myself together, and after a deep breath I kneel down to help him pick up the glass shards.

I hope I never see Paige Williams again.

***

We didn't go out for a walk. The rest of the afternoon was only filled with silence: we busying ourselves into unpacking and deciding what should go where in the house. The house really is big, with its long corridors that seem to lead nowhere and the endless rooms that each had specific aims for a chore in the household. As I sit in our new laundry quarter, I can't help but notice the thin cracks along the corners of the walls.

This house really needs re-furnishing.

Just like last time when I was walking in the corridors downstairs I saw the old and decayed yellow wallpapers lined along both sides of the walls, already covered in spots of molds. One area is even covered in a few shades of different colors; blue and red, but it's hard to tell what was drawn on since the colorful lines have already faded so much. It seems like Adrian's Gran Doris never took good care of her place before she left.

Maybe I should change the wallpaper in this room, I really should. A color like sky-blue could really brighten up this old place.

Grabbing the closest light-blue shirt I can find, I jog down the stairs. The cold damp air rushes past me as I shiver, walking along the walls until I reach the corridor, putting the shirt in my hand against the moldy wallpaper to see if the new color would suit our house better. I imagine the entire surface along the corridor is covered by wallpaper in this color - it really cancels out the old-creepy-basement vibes.

The yellow bulb above me makes a loud screeching noise, and I roll my eyes at this fossil of a house. The other bulbs shiver in protest, as if begging for me not to leave them in the cold, lonely basement. I narrow my eyes at them, "you're not in the place to make demands," I stick my tongue out and return to my thoughts, deciding what shade of blue would be more suitable for the basement corridor.

Before I can comprehend the light above flickers furiously. The floor groans below me and I freeze in place and study my surroundings. Somewhere dark ahead at the end of the corridors something murmurs, and I can hear the faintest cry wailing, bouncing off and echoing past the walls. The walls seem to move and expanding as fear bubbles inside me. This better not be more visions. It seems too real to be visions.

I run, speeding down the corridor and upstairs, almost tripping on a few steps at times. Nearing the door I feel the warm air surround me once again as I feel my stomach drop, relief filling my lungs. Leaning against the hallway Adrian stands and stares at me.

"What's wrong, Larissa?"

I look at him, filling his presence in my chest. I catch my breath, a wave of shivers run through me mercilessly as words stumble out:

"S-something's wrong. S-something is very wrong with the basement."

WRITTEN AND EDITED BY: AshBears, castielsangels-, RachelAnne, CrystianiaEbony