The Price

Everything in the room had been rearranged just as John had asked when he bought the dilapidated house. He looked at it from his place on the lawn, booted feet standing firmly in their place as he waited for his wife to arrive.

What a deal they had gotten on this place, he thought, one hand falling to his hip in silent appreciation of the Victorian home. It even came with all of the antique furniture inside and the collectors were thrilled. They could even fix the pieces up and sell them in their shop, and the money put into fixing the house back to its former glory. Maybe they would even sell it since the future was unpredictable.

The realtor that had shown them the house was thrilled when they decided to buy it since she would get a commission, but more-so because the house had been on the market for some time. No buyers had been interested in the past, so the company was glad to have it off their hands.

It was their gain, John thought. Annie drove up in her little silver car, pulling up to the curb and getting out - gorgeous as always in a pencil skirt and lovely printed blouse. He had always been in love with the way she looked, blonde hair in that impeccable coif.

"Hello, John." She smiled to him in a manner that made his heart melt every time, heels clicking until she reached the grass, the sound muffled by the crunching of blades. Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed affectionate kisses to his cheek. "Shall we step inside and appraise the pieces?" She pulled a piece of lint off John's sweater with a loving smile after fluffing her fingers through his hair.

"I'm ready when you are." He smiled, slipping an arm around his wife - kissing her cheek in return. "I took a peek into the front room before you got here. The movers already rearranged most of the pieces like we asked." He held that shining key up to her.

"You naughty boy." Annie teased, trying her best to maintain a scolding look that just melted to one of good humor and love for her husband. "Going in without me! I've been so excited to get my hands on these pieces. I do hope the movers will keep their promise of getting here on time when we are ready." Annie shrugged her petite shoulders, nudging her husband with her handbag.

John laughed, stepping up the porch as boards creaked beneath the weight of him and Annie. "It's such an old house." He mused, opening the door and gesturing his love inside. "After you, gorgeous." Annie's smile reassured that he said the right thing. He watched her step inside before following.

Annie was excited about the house all over again, running up to items and sliding her fingers over the dust covered pieces. However, most of the furniture was covered with sheets to keep that sort of thing down though the movers had stirred up the dust on the floor with their boots. John kept behind her, grinning at her happiness and stepping across the room to look at a few pieces himself, the old floor creaking with every movement they made.

"Oh, John! She said with excitement. These are wonderful." Her hand slid over one of the dressers, pulling on the drawer that was a little sticky and took much effort. "Of course, we'll have to fix some up before they go into the shop, but we got a great deal!"

The movers were called, items cleared out of the room and loaded into the moving trucks. Annie and John followed behind so they could spectate how things were moved in and comment when the men were being too rough with their valued property.

"What was the home owner's name again?" Annie asked her husband, cutting up vegetables after their full day. She threw them into the pan to fry them, awaiting his response.

"Clement." John answered, sitting at the table with his laptop. "I wanted to run a search on him and do some digging to find out what is known of this guy, but I can't find anything." He sighs, gazing upward at the clock, eyes falling back down the bureau that they had kept, which was painted white and complete with intricate designs. The piece had been found in one of the upstairs rooms, likely belonging to a wife with the beautiful carved roses on top. "I'm glad we kept this piece." He said, glancing to Annie. "It's charming."

Annie glanced over her shoulder, wearing a warm expression in return. "I agree. It's also great that there were letters found in it even. As well as that great letter opener." She beamed, "I'm going to read over the letters later on." John nodded, getting up to help his wife finish dinner. They ate before showering and going to sleep.

John slept, his rest fitful despite the sleep aid he had been prescribed by his doctor for insomnia. If this was going to be the time that his insomnia decided to come back, then that was just great. He sighed, slipping out of bed and placing his house shoes on his feet, trudging to the bathroom to flick on the light, doing his business, and moving downstairs for a cool drink. That would at least help him get comfortable enough to relax again.

He passed the bureau, curious when one of the drawers were open. They didn't have children or pets and neither he nor Annie had messed with it before bed, so the thought was a little unnerving. Walking closer, the drawer was touched, a surge of energy passing through him that made him weak in the knees - falling to the floor. The drawer fell out with him as he went, a journal spilling open followed by the antique letter opener resembling that of a dagger with jewels in the pommel.

John slid himself over to the journal, reading the page that it spilled open to, December 15th, which read:

"My husband Clement has been ceaselessly asking me questions about the men that I have been seeing. They are just friends, I tell him, and nothing more. What business is it of his? Does he not trust me?" The ink began to run there, looking as if the diary has been drenched with water, all pages ending off with water damage.

"John?" Annie questioned, coming down the stairs with a robe wrapped around her. "Are you all right?" Her expression was worried as she looked at her husband on the floor.

"I'm fine, Annie. Just went to close this drawer and felt a little faint. Strangest thing."

Annie crossed the room to help John, picking up the letter opener first and dropping it as if she had been burned - a look of distress on her face. "What is it?" John asked, getting up to help his shuddering wife into a chair, that worried look on his features now.

"I--" She ran her fingers through her hair, "I saw a dead man with a bloodied chest. A woman cleaning that letter opener. Her face was so evil."

"What?" John asked perplexed, though he stepped to the drawer and picked it up, not feeling that same jolt from before. Leaning, the journal was taken so that he could place it where it had been found, energies moving that made him nearly throw it like Annie had with the letter opener.

"John?" She inquired, lofting a brow. "What is it?"

"I think I may have seen the same woman you did..." He started, "Was she brunette with blue eyes?" Annie nodded, affirming. "Well, she was writing in this journal. December twentieth." The journal was retrieved, thumbed to that date.

"Clement has accused me once more of cheating on him." John began, "'His jealousy knows no bounds. The reason why I married him is unclear to me now. I thought it was for love more than anything else. Clement needs to be stopped if I am ever to be happy again.' It ends there." John said, "There's so much water damage in this journal, which is strange since the bureau is fine." He frowned, causing Annie to glance toward the bureau with a confused expression.

"Something is seriously wrong here." Annie pointed out, "It's about four in the morning, but do you think we should head over to the antique shop and get a look at the other pieces? Really search them for clues?" She pushed up from her chair, John nodding. The couple finished putting the bureau back together, moving upstairs to get ready. Then they made the drive to their shop.

Annie stepped out first, walking up to the door and unlocking it, followed by John. The shop sign was kept as closed since they wouldn't be open for a few more hours at least. Making their way toward the back of the store, her hands landed on the sticky dresser, which showed nothing. "This piece didn't have the same reaction. It was the only piece I touched in the house, so I guess we should move on to other pieces to see if the same reaction happens."

John agreed with his wife, stepping over to one of the beds. "The movers didn't say anything about having the reactions that we experienced." He observed, Annie nodding

"Then again they were covered by dust sheets. Maybe whatever it is might be trying to tell us something?" John silently agreed, taking the dust sheet off of the bed and laying a hand on the cool metal of the railing, a shock of electricity felt that made him draw back.

"What did you see?" Annie inquired, curious to find out more clues to the mystery.

"Blood." John answered, "And loose floorboards. I think we should go to that house. The room that this bed was in might have more answers." Annie didn't argue and immediately headed to the car, driving back to the house.

Once there, they almost ran to the steps and unlocked the door, bolting up the stairs to the master bedroom. "Here, I think." John pointed at the floorboards in the center of the room, getting on his hands and knees to pick at the boards. "I don't think they'll come up easily."

"Wait here." Annie told him, heading down the stairs and returning with a fire poker. "The movers left this here." She said, handing it to him and standing back as John stuck it into the dilapidated wood of the bedroom floor, making things much easier, and after a few tries, he even got one of them to come loose - exposing the beams beneath and the underside of the ceiling below. "Wh-what is that!?" Annie pointed, jaw dropping open.

"I'm not sure..." John kept digging up the floorboards, about five more until something was revealed - wrapped in canvas. Together they dug it out and undid the ties, dust of bones and long gone decay filling the room. Annie ran to the window and opened it, taking in a breath of fresh air and dry heaving.

"Oh...oh my gosh..." John followed his wife, patting her back. "Do you think that's..." He wanted to say the man from the visions, and somehow she knew, giving a nod. There were multiple tears in the shirt and brown blood surrounding. "We have to tell the police. What if they have been working on a missing persons case for years?" She opened her mouth to speak again when the window slammed closed of it's own accord.

"No one is going anywhere!" Came a booming scream, "You have changed my home and disturbed my rest!" Annie screamed, John jumping from beside her.

"What was that!?" She asked, the voice seeming to come from inside the house though not in the room with them - the house itself.

"Pesky!" The voice rattled the windows, floors and walls, shaking up dust. The walls began to crack and then peeled.

"What's happening?!" Annie was frozen in place, John grabbing her hand as he tried to lead his wife downstairs, the door slamming and locking - barring them in.

"It means to keep us here!" He yelled over the noise, pulling at the doorknob as the roof started to cave in, Annie looking for an alternative escape. An idea came to John, picking up the abandoned fire poker and shattering the glass off the window. He laid his shirt over the broken shards quickly.

"Get out!" The house was seconds from crumbling when Annie climbed over the frame of the window, John giving her a light shove to push his wife and send her tumbling off the roof and safely to the grass.

"John!" She yelled, but it was too late as the house caved, sending dust into the air and leaving John trapped beneath the rubble, his wife sobbing.