The Old House: Shattered Innocence

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....Continued from The Old House: An Unforeseen Evil

Quito had witnessed enough and had controlled himself too much. Hastily, he retraced his way out of the house. After closing the last door, he breathed real air for the longest time. 

The house is evil, he murmured.

The Old House: An Unforeseen Evil

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....Continued from The Old House: Hungry Cries

The shadow was that of a woman; she was swaying to the beat of claps. It was a lazy dance. Her hair was long and tousled, and she seemed to wear a loose robe. Below her was another figure.

 

Curious, Quito dug through the thick layers of fibers. It was a painstaking struggle, careful and unhurried so as not to distract the owners of the shadows. Upon reaching the last curtains, he made another sign of the cross, and through the breach between two fabrics, he peeped.

The Old House: Hungry Cries

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....Continued from The Old House: The Tradition

Few minutes had passed by before he finally went inside the house. He proceeded to the living room where the staircase was, surveying the place along the way. Except for the cobwebs dangling around the corners and on the ceilings, the house was surprisingly neat and fragrant with a strawberry scent. There were lighted candles everywhere – on the kitchen counters, on the wooden furniture pieces and even on the stairs. They were ingeniously arranged. For a moment, Quito was mesmerized by the exoticism of the surroundings.

The Old House: The Tradition

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....Continued from The Old House: Children's Tale

Quito erased the thought, and instead, he concentrated on his driving. He had vowed to himself that he would never return to the old house. But tonight, he violated his own decree and was now a mile from the house, biking under a brilliant moon, gliding through shadows and suppressing the bitter bite of the breeze as well as the fright creeping within him.

The Old House: Children's Tale

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It was eleven in the night and a stark eeriness hang in the air. The stillness was broken by the sudden howling of dogs. Quito jumped to his feet and stood frozen for some dreadful seconds. When the noise abated, he sighed a relief. Cautiously, so as not to make the bamboo slats of the floor creak, he sneaked out of his room. Peeping through the door of their room, he checked his parents and found them embracing each other, sound asleep. Sighing another relief, he made the sign of the cross, then tiptoed his way to the kitchen.