“Bloody Hammer”

FIREFIGHTERS RESPONDED TO A FIVE-ALARM FIRE ON PARKLAND CIRCLE FRIDAY NIGHT. THERE WAS ONLY ONE PERSON PRESENT AT THE TIME OF THE FIRE, WHO DID NOT SURVIVE THE BLAZE. THE VICTIM IS BELIEVED TO BE A TWENTY-SIX-YEAR-OLD WOMAN.

“God, that’s so sad,” Jenna said as she clutched the remote to her chest. She, too, was a 26-year-old woman at home alone on a Friday night, with only the news to keep her company.

THERE’S BEEN NO DEFINITE INDICATOR OF WHAT MAY HAVE CAUSED THE FIRE, IT IS THOUGHT THAT IT MAY HAVE COME FROM A CANDLE THAT HAD BEEN KNOCKED OVER WHILE THE WOMAN SLEPT.

Jenna eyed her own candles on the end table next to her couch. She hastily got up and blew them out, so the only illumination in the living room came from the television. Jenna hated being home alone under normal circumstances, but being home alone during a cold, autumn night in a new house she was still only just getting used to was a different kind of spooky. She begged Jason to bail out on his business trip, but the cost of moving and updating the house to their standards meant that Jason had to take any and every opportunity work offered, just so they could hopefully recoup any of those costs.

They were able to purchase their new home at well below market value, which they soon found out was due to the condition of the inside. The house previously belonged to a disturbed individual with a hoarding problem; the walls and flooring were chewed apart by rats and animals, the pipes had completely rusted over, and the carpeting that survived was vomit-inducing. Because of the work that needed to be done, Jenna and Jason were able to buy their first home together as a married couple outright with what they had saved, and worked overtime at their jobs, and took out loans to have the insides updated and modernized to their liking.

Jason thought that, after all the work and money that had been put into the house, the least Jenna could do was enjoy it by herself for one weekend. Jenna tried to get a few girlfriends over to spend the night, but the guest rooms hadn’t yet been set up and she didn’t want to spoil the “big reveal” before the house was 100% guest-ready. So Jenna tried her best to get comfortable in her surroundings, but every creak or scratch or thump—the hazards that come with an old house, no matter how updated—made her jump out of her skin.

But it was the shuffling noise that upset her the most.

It wasn’t loud. It was muffled, and it didn’t quite sound like footsteps, but it definitely sounded like something was in motion. And it was coming from the attic.

“I don’t know what it is, but there is definitely something going on upstairs,” Jenna said in a panicked phone call to Jason the first time she heard it.

“There’s nothing up there, babe, I promise. Here, why don’t you go up there and Facetime me the whole time?” Jason replied, thinking he was being helpful.

“Like Hell I will!” Jenna exclaimed. If she was anxious about being in her LIVING ROOM alone, what in the world made him think she’d be brave enough to go up to the attic?

“I’m just worried that there are rats,” Jenna said, nervously biting her nails.

“Impossible,” Jason responded, “We had the exterminator fumigate TWICE before we moved in. And any and every possible crack in the framework has been sealed. Remember, he said he’d be shocked if a moth got in.”

Jenna knew that was all true, and she admitted that she was probably projecting her fears, but the sounds just felt so real. She also didn’t want to admit that maybe it was a bad idea to buy a house so quickly that needed so much work, no matter how much, aesthetically, it looked like the home she had dreamed of owning since she was a small child. She’d get past this nervous period, she just needed to make it through tonight. One night alone in the new house and she’d feel like she conquered the world. But now, in the dark on the couch, the shuffling started up again.

“Screw it,” Jenna said and rose to her feet.

She was going up to the attic.

Darla never wanted to leave her home. She loved it so much. When her neighbors finally called the cops she knew her time was up. First, it started as a “wellness check,” then they came for what she loved most, her cats. She knew there was no way she’d be able to stay and live there—so she did the only thing that made sense.

She hid.

She knew the home inside and out, every nook, every cranny. Even despite the mess, she could find the secret hiding places she had all over since childhood. The construction crew was none the wiser of her crawl space up there, but it was that exterminator who came a little too close to finding her out. She thought for sure she’d have to use her weapon against him, but without her cats to finish the job she was without a solid plan of action. So she let him go. She had no intention of racking up a body count, she would only defend herself against those who did harm first.

She wasn’t sure to make of the new couple that moved in. She didn’t like that they changed everything about her home. She didn’t think they deserved it.

And she especially hated that the woman was a psychiatrist.

All those types of people ever did was tell her that she was wrong, that she was weird, that she needed to change her ways. The last one who lived with her overstepped his boundaries one too many times—she could already sense this was going to happen with these two. She watched them carefully from the tiniest sliver in the floorboards, studying their movements, their routines, making sure the one rat she was able to save didn’t slip past her and give them a reason to call the exterminator again.

Darla pressed her face closer to the floorboard—where had the woman gone? She had barely moved from the couch all day. At the sound of the door opening to the attic, Darla jumped and her rat slithered out from under her and made its way outside. She knew the rat was in trouble. She knew she was in trouble. She was going to have to get rid of yet another psychiatrist intruding in her space.

Jenna screamed bloody murder at the sight of the rat lunging toward her as she climbed up the steps into the attic. She sat at the top of the steps, clutching her chest and catching her breath. Why the Hell had they paid so much money to hire an exterminator if he couldn’t even do the one thing he was asked? Jenna was as angry as she was nervous, but at least was happy to know what exactly was making so much noise up there. Sure, she'd probably have to spend the night in a motel while she waited for the exterminator to come yet again, but at least the worst of it was over.

She thought that, at least, until she turned to make her way back downstairs to find a crazed woman running at her full speed wielding a hammer. Jenna didn’t think. She had barely enough time to react. In a flash, it was all over.

She carefully cleaned the blood-soaked hammer and, after a quick Google search, took the appropriate steps to wipe it of any fingerprints, should anyone come across it. She made her way back up to the attic and examined the crawl space, pausing to give some respect to how well-concealed something that could hide a body could be. She had to give props to good work done.

The rat came back and brushed up against her foot, almost as if it was signaling to her that it was proud of her, as strange as that may sound. The sight of it gave her an idea, as she glanced back and forth between its sharp teeth and the body in the crawl space.

“I know the exterminator said everything was taken care of, Jason,” Jenna said calmly over the phone staring blankly at the bloodied body in front of her, “but for my peace of mind, would you be terribly upset if I got a cat?”