The image of that stain replayed again and again in her mind. Maybe it had been nothing—a simple accident in the kitchen.
But what if it wasn’t?
What if something terrible had happened?
The uncertainty gnawed at her.
The next day Caleb returned again, looking just as exhausted as before. Emily forced a polite smile while ringing up his purchase. When their fingers briefly touched, she felt a chill run through her.
As he left the store, she made a decision.
She couldn’t ignore her instincts anymore.
That evening after closing the pharmacy, Emily didn’t drive home. Instead she headed toward the edge of the neighborhood.
She remembered Caleb’s address from deliveries sent to the pharmacy—a large, aging two-story house near the quiet outskirts of town.
When she arrived, the house looked even more unsettling than she expected. The structure was huge but badly neglected, surrounded by tall weeds and broken stone paths. Dark windows stared out like empty eyes.
Emily parked beneath a large oak tree and watched.
No lights.
No movement.
Just silence and the distant sound of crickets.
“What am I doing?” she whispered to herself. “I should call the police.”
But what would she say? That a man bought too many wet wipes?
It sounded ridiculous.
She needed proof.
Using the shadows for cover, Emily slowly approached the house. The yard was overgrown with weeds, and the cracked driveway led to a massive wooden door with peeling paint.
She carefully walked around the building until she reached the back.
One window—possibly the kitchen—looked slightly open.
Emily hesitated before gently pushing it.
The window creaked open.
Immediately the smell hit her.
The same metallic scent from the pharmacy—but stronger now, mixed with something stale and sickening that made her stomach turn.
Fighting nausea, Emily leaned closer and shined the faint light from her phone inside.
The kitchen was a disaster. Dirty dishes filled the sink, and newspapers covered the floor.
Beyond it stretched a dark hallway.
At the end of the hallway, a door stood slightly open. A dim yellow light glowed from inside.
Then she heard something.
A weak sound.
A faint moan.
Emily’s skin went cold.
Someone else was inside that house.
Her heart racing, she climbed through the window.
The air inside was heavy and stale. Every step creaked loudly beneath her feet as she followed the hallway toward the light.
The half-open door led to a bedroom.