So I went back at 7PM. Just like I promised.
The padlock was open. Hanging on the rusted latch, swinging small in the wind. The fingerprints from this morning were gone — wiped clean.
The broken fence behind the Miller's property was the same. But the footprints in the mud were fresh. And this time, there were TWO sets. Small ones going in. And bigger, dragged marks coming out.
My phone battery was at 94%. I started recording.
The back door was unlocked. It creaked. Inside smelled like wet wood and old books.
"Hello?" I whispered. No answer.
The yellow light was on again. Upstairs. In the attic window. Same room where the figure stood yesterday.
I climbed the stairs. Every step creaked loud. On the second floor, all the doors were closed except one. The attic door. Light was pouring from under it.
I pushed it.
The room was empty. No furniture. Just a small wooden chair in the middle, facing the window. On the chair, a folded piece of paper.
I picked it up. It said in a child's handwriting:
"THANK YOU FOR COMING BACK. WE HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU DOWNSTAIRS."
Behind me, I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Slow. Dragging.
..........To be continued in E03
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