Under the Rug-Short Story

“Under the Rug”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. The horror. The corpse had been under the floorboards all this time.  As I stared down at it a sudden pang of numbing pain hit me as something cold and sharp pierced my back. (Fx1- stab) Warm, thick liquid oozed out of my wound as I started to lose my footing and stumbled onto the floorboards. In the midst of unconsciousness, the twenty years of memories all came rushing back to me.

It all started in 1952 in a small town named Brampton. I was a chemistry professor at the local college, and my wife Arsen was a teacher at the local elementary. Our marriage and life together was short lived and started going downhill after five years. We could go for days without even talking to each other. You could say that the spark we had once was no longer there. I found myself drifting further away with each passing day until I met her. Her name was Alexandra; she was one of my students at the college. There was something about her youth and enthusiasm for knowledge that attracted me. What looked like an innocent student-teacher relationship became something more. We hid in the dark for years until she graduated and demanded that I divorce Arsen so that we can bring our relationship to light.

I was hesitant and reluctant because even though I no longer had feelings for Arsen, I could not throw away our ten year marriage just like that. I didn’t hate Arsen or our marriage, but how could I bear to live in a world without companionship?

“It’s either me or her!” protested Alexandra.

Those words still ring in my head. I didn’t know which side to pick. If I picked one side then I would hurt the other; what was I to do?

Then, it happened. Alexandra knew it was impossible for me to make a choice between her and Arsen, so she made the choice for me. She murdered Arsen and disposed of her body so that no one would know. When I found out, it was already too late. “I did it for us,” she explained at the time. I didn’t blame Alexandra; instead, I blamed myself for my stupidity. If I had made a choice between the two then this nightmare would have never happened. With this newfound guilt and misery, I disappeared from town and broke all ties with Alexandra. I moved to an isolated cabin away from any signs of civilization. My way of life was simple: I made a living off of fishing. But there wasn’t a day that I didn’t think of my wife. Whenever I closed my eyes all I could see was the terror that must have been on her face when she was murdered. It was my fault, and all I could do was drown my misery in liquor and tears.

The next ten years passed in a blur as the same routine repeated everyday. But one day it hit me as I was staring at the calendar. I noticed that October 31st, my wife’s tenth death anniversary, was approaching. It was only three weeks away. I thought it was finally time to face my past.

I packed my scant belongings and set off on the road trip back to Brampton, a town that once held happy memories for me before my life came spiraling down to what it is now. The hours of driving made me anxious and question whether or not I was doing the right thing. I had no right to come back to this town and furthermore no right to face my dead wife.

As I approached the rickety old signs of Brampton and the familiar shops and streets, I felt like a runaway child finally returning home. I was lucky enough to still be able to move back into the old house after abandoning it for so long.  But before I could even enter the house, a picture on the headline of a newspaper on the steps caught my eye. Although it had been almost a decade, I had not forgotten her face. The headline read “ALEXANDRA CLAIR MISSING.” I took the newspaper into the house with me, and as I walked into the living room a weird stench met my nose. It was probably the smell of stale air assuming that the house hadn’t been touched for almost ten years.

I remember when I left I had only packed some clothes and books, leaving the rest of my belongings abandoned in the house. Ten years had passed, and I was shocked at the fact that everything was the way I left it. The chairs, tables, and half written on papers still lay in their places. What surprised me the most was that not even a speck of dust was to be found. It seemed as if someone had been tending to the house while I was gone and awaiting the day I would finally return.

There wasn’t much to unpack so I shifted my attention back to the newspaper headline. As I quickly skimmed the article, I found out that Alexandra had been missing for a week. Apparently she was last seen drinking at a bar one night. As I continued reading the newspaper I thought I saw something move from the corner of my eyes. When I turned around to see what it was there was nothing there.

The long drive had depleted me of my energy, and my stomach was starting to growl. If my memory was as great as I thought it was, there was a diner down  the street. After my decade long fish diet anything seemed appetizing. When I walked in through the double glass doors, familiar faces began to form, and the nostalgic smell of fresh baked pie filled the air of the noisy diner. (fx2-noisy diner) I sat in an empty seat next to a man hunched over reading a newspaper and munching on a biscuit. A middle aged woman in an oil smudged red apron with little droplets of sweat beading down her forehead came up to me with a notepad in hand. Before I could mouth a word, she yelped in excitement.

"Oh my goodness, when did you come back? You left without a note, and you didn't say why you left," the waitress exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, I haven't been back in town for almost a decade.” I responded

“Great! So what can I get you?” the waitress beamed.

“I’ll have a cherry pie please.” I requested.

“You always did love your pies,” the waitress chuckled, “so, where have you been all these years?”

“Just away I guess, like on a vacation after so much happened,” I lied.

“Well I’m glad you’re back!” the waitress replied as she placed my order.

“Yeah, things seem to have changed quite a bit since I’ve last been there.”

“Yep, old Johnny’s Butcher shop moved out, and the old folks at the company are talking about setting up something called a television.”

“You know I saw the headline on today’s paper. That girl Alexandra…. What happened to her?”

“No one’s really sure; all we know is that she has been missing for some time now. I wouldn’t worry too much though. She probably hooked up with some guy and headed for the city. That’s where all of the young ladies have been going recently.”

“I see.”

“You know… I’ve been here for the whole ten years you’ve been gone, and I haven’t seen a single weed grow on your lawn. The plants in your garden don’t seem to grow or wither away. Strange, isn’t it?”

“Now that you’ve mentioned it. Did anyone lived in my old house when I was gone?”

“Not that I know of. The town was wondering where you went and left your house alone thinking that you would eventually come back.”

“Just as I thought. Well, I should be going now. Take care!”

“You too and welcome back!”

It felt great to talk to an old friend in town again after so many years, but when I got home I was overcome with a sense of loneliness. The house was too big and empty for me to live in alone. I resorted to drinking the bottles of whiskey I found sitting in the cupboards to get rid of the feeling. While sitting in my old leather chair in the living room with a book in my hand, I read and drank until it grew dark outside, just as I used to do many years ago. Eventually I fell asleep.

When I woke up it was from the ear splitting sound of shattering glass. (Fx3- glass) The room was dark with the only light coming from the sliver of moonlight between the curtains. I found the glass I was drinking from shattered into a million pieces on the floor.

“Darn. I must have pushed it over with my hand while I was asleep. But wait, my hands were on my lap the whole time,” I speculated aloud.

It was late, and I was too tired to worry about what made the glass fall or to clean up the mess so I dragged myself upstairs to bed.

That morning, I heard thudding and wood creaking as I rolled around in bed.(fx4-walking) Then I felt a cold icy hand caress my face and a feather light kiss on my other cheek. The cold touch startled me, but when I squinted to see who it was, I was only met with the cold emptiness of the house.

I thought to myself, “must have been a dream or something.”

For the next week I found myself walking around town aimlessly, reading my old books for hours, and drinking bottles of whiskey and scotch.

One afternoon I was reading the newspaper when I heard a door creaking open upstairs. (Fx5- wood door squeak and shut) As I climbed the stairs, I heard a door slam shut  and the click of a lock. Confused, I went to twist the knob of my room, and it opened. I then twisted the knob of the guest room and found that it was locked from the inside.

“Darn the wind,” I cursed.

I couldn’t remember where the key was, so I just left it locked since I wasn't expecting any guests to come over anyways. As I descended down the stairs to go back to the living room, the guest room door creaked open, followed by a big gust of wind that almost knocked me off my feet and sent me rolling down the stairs. “What the hell is wrong with this house?” I thought.

That night, I did the same as I always did. I sat in my leather chair with a glass of whiskey and a book before bed. When I felt myself getting a little lightheaded from the whiskey,  I decided it was time for bed. But when I got up, I saw what looked like a huge bump protruding from the rug. There was something under the rug, and it was moving and getting bigger. Absolutely terrified,  I lifted up a nearby chair ready to throw it on whatever was under the rug, but before I could it scurried away. I tried following it, but when I got to the kitchen it was gone. I needed to clear my head so I headed up to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. But when I tried to flick the lights on they didn't work. In the dark I could barely make out the words written on the bathroom mirror in blood red: “I MISSED YOU.” (fx6-horror sound) I decided that it must be the effect from the whiskey and the fact that I was becoming delusional after leaving civilization for so long. So I went straight to bed trying to forget everything that had just happened.

The next morning my head throbbed in pain. As I went to the bathroom to wash my face, I noticed that the mirror was spotless.

“Getting intoxicated is not helping me in any way. I should really stop drinking so much especially since my wife's death anniversary is approaching,” I groaned.

So in the next two weeks I tried to keep myself away from alcohol, but despite my efforts I still found myself going back to it. Time was passing slowly, and everyday I had the feeling that I was being watched. Whether I was reading, sleeping or preparing my meals, I felt another presence in the room with me. Every now and then I would see shadows and figures flash by me. I tried to convince myself that they were illusions, but they kept happening over and over again. The clattering of dishes, creaking of floorboards, and slamming of doors haunted me day and night.

The day before the anniversary I spent the evening sitting outside on my porch deep in thought.  I was anxious about how I would face my wife’s gravestone and the things I would tell her. Coming back to town took a lot of courage, and now that I'm here I've been thinking about staying. I owe so much to Arsen, and I thought it was finally time to make it up to her in any way I can. As I walked back into the house thinking about what flowers to get her tomorrow, I saw something move from under the rug. I blinked and squinted to make sure I was imagining it. It was the bump! Two weeks passed and it happened again! I chased it as it ran around the living room and tried to stomp on it but couldn't. When I thought I finally got it, I took a huge stomp but missed, and my foot ended up making a big hole in the wooden floor under the rug. Puzzled, I lifted up the rug to reveal the wooden floor and the hole in it. The wood must be getting weak so I thought about getting it replaced. But what’s this? It looked like there was something under the floorboards so I reached in, and to my surprise I could lift them up with ease. But when I saw what the floorboards hid I froze and stared at it until I realized what it was. It was Alexandra, or rather what was left of her decomposing body.(fx6-horror for body scene)

Now as I lay half conscious on the floorboards next to Alexandra's body, a silhouette of my dead wife started to form over me.

"You've finally come back." Arsen whispered.

"What's happening? What do you mean?" I stuttered.   

"I've been waiting ten grueling years for you."

"So it was you playing all these tricks? I wasn't imagining things and going crazy then!”

"Who else could it have been?" she smirked.

"Why did you have to kill Alexandra?"

"I thought the bitch should get a taste of her own medicine. You don't even know the things she said behind your back! She killed me, and you let it happen! "

"I didn't know about any of it, I swear. I didn't pick her over you."

"Shut up; it doesn't matter anymore"

"Why did you do all of this?"

"This is the only way I can make sure you won't leave me again."

I began to cough and spit out blood.

"Now we can always be together..." she said as she laid down and wrapped her arms around me.

Then I begin to feel the house shake violently. Glass shattering and the sound of furniture hitting the floor filled my ears.(fx8-debris falling) In a matter of seconds, I was buried under layers and layers of rubble. The moment before I closed my eyes, I caught a slight glimpse of the silver moonlight and thought this is probably how it should have ended.

I hope all of you enjoyed my short story about the cold revenge of a wife who all but wanted her husband to be with her forever and went to the extremes to do just that even if she was already died. Thank you for reading! Feel free to give me any criticism, I know my writing is only mediocre so any pointers would really help me alot!