24A/N This is a continuation of the last chapter, 15 years earlier.
Thud Thud Thud
The noises started long after her parents had gone to bed. A constant hammering coming from her neighbor's house.
Jenny slipped deeper beneath the covers and pulled the sheet over her head in hopes of drowning it out. Her room was pitch black save for a pink glow from a princess nite-lite in the corner. Even the glow-in-the-dark stars pasted to her ceiling had faded.
She clasped her hands over her ears and counted to the dense darkness. The pulse in her ears slowed as her breathing regulated. The heat of her breath was suffocating beneath the sheets but she was safe. After a while, her arms grew limp with sleep and her hands dropped away.
CRACK!
This time she sat bolt upright and threw back the sheets. Her neighbor had kept to a schedule as long as she had known him. Awake by six to rock for an hour or two on the front porch while he nursed a couple cups of coffee. He would wave to her as she walked past his house to the bus stop. He had his soaps and some books to keep him company during the day but by the time the street lights came on in the evening he was making his way upstairs.
Thud Thud Thud
The hammering continued as she made her way quietly through the house toward the back door. Through the kitchen window she could see her neighbor's second story bedroom light. A shadow wafted back and forth across the ceiling.
The night sky was clear with skeletal branches reaching toward distant stars. Silence draped the street: neither car or creature disturbed the eerie tranquility.
She tugged the door open and slipped through, tip toeing across the frosty grass wearing only her pajamas and slippers. A noise from above startled her and she fell rather than jumped over the half fence. Pulling herself to her feet, she glanced at the upstairs window and froze.
The slats between the blinds were narrow and uniform, only allowing a choppy view into Mr Green's bedroom. In the very bottom corner, one of the blinds was slanted, held in place with a single finger. She wasn't positive, but it looked as if the finger was crooked toward her.
Jenny swallowed the heavy knot in her throat and stood just beneath the window. " Mr. Green," she threw a breathy whisper toward the figure, "are you ok? The...the noises!"
She held her breath, waiting for an answer, when the shadow disappeared from view and the blinds snapped back in place.
Several minutes passed but she couldn't will her feet to move. The chill that nipped at her nose grew teeth that gnawed at her arms and legs. Her breath danced just in front of her face.
Shivering, she turned to go home, feeling silly that she ever got out of bed. She made it to the fence when the noise erupted behind her.
THUD THUD THUD
Glancing over her shoulder to the window, she saw the finger again stretched between the blinds and tapping with considerable force against the glass. An icy nail raked over her spine.
She was at the doggy door in seconds and squeezed herself through. "Mr. Green! Mr. Green, are you ok? Do you n-need help?" The house was as she remembered it. Nothing had changed since her visit that afternoon.
She narrowly avoided the tall stacks of newspapers and indiscriminate trash lining the crude path to the stairs. The bedroom above was dark yet the noise remained constant, its rhythm steadily increasing as if to mimic her heart.
" , please, are y-you okay?" Her voice quivered. The echo carried up the steps and died beneath the resounding THUD THUD THUD from the bedroom.
The thought that the old man was unable to voice a reply forced her up the steps, vaulting two at a time. "I'm coming, ! I'm com-" the words lodged in her throat as he stepped in front of her.
She never realized how tall her neighbor was. Six feet, at least. The broad expanse of his shoulders did not droop as they had on earlier visits. The hands that reached out to steady her did not tremor with the affliction she had found so endearing. The old man in front of her was not the same Mr. Green.
The gnarled fingers dug painfully into her shoulders. Her ankle rolled on the step as she half stumbled down the stairs, landing on her knees in the den. There was no pain. There was no sound. She tore through the house, sending the neat stacks of garbage flying. There was only fear.
She hit the floor to dive through the doggy door when a cold hand found her ankle and pulled her back. Her other heel found purchase and she felt something give beneath the kick. The house was behind her now as she stumbled into the yard.
"Fly fly away, little bird," the guttural voice echoed behind her. A macabre dance of pale limbs appeared in her peripheries followed by the crunch of footsteps in the frozen grass. He was running. The old man who could hardly manage the stairs lumbered after her.
The tall crooked figure of her neighbor loomed behind her, in between her and her own home. Her parents. The woods stretched out in front of her, laden with fresh snow. She broke into a run for the dense cover.
The disjointed gait of her neighbor stalled when she reached the trees. An eerie cackle followed her. She stumbled through the frozen low-hanging limbs, ignoring the twigs and brambles that reached to trip her.
A disconcerting silence fell over the woods. Small wisps floated above her lips as she fought to catch her breath against a tree. She sank to her knees into the snow. Somewhere in her flight she managed to kick off her slippers. Her feet were raw but numb and refused to hold her weight any longer. The fingers of both hands were stiff and a pale shade of purple. She felt like her heart was freezing as she struggled to sit upright.
"My dear, Jenny. My precious little bird," a familiar voice crooned behind her as a shadow fell across the snow. "Let us go home. It's time to play a game. Your parents can play too." Three days had passed since she heard that voice. This time, though, it rang clear as if she stood directly behind her.
The thin skin of Jenny's cheeks were encrusted with frozen tears that glistened when she turned her head. Her scream was smothered beneath her neighbor's hand, its fingers slick with something warm. Dark red jewels replaced the kind brown eyes of , a ghastly hole drilled between them that weeped blood. The backside of the old man's head was missing, only a tangled mass of meat left that dripped to stain the snow.
"Hush now, my pet. It's time to go."
His body went slack. The fingers coiled about her throat lost their grip. The red eyes dimmed to lifeless orbs.
Her neighbor's body lurched to the side into the snow. She took a breath to scream again when a warmth surrounded her. The pain that pulsed beneath her frozen skin ebbed as the heat coursed through her.
She cut a dogged glance around her but couldn't remember the path back home. How far had she run to not even see the distant light of the street lamps? Her heart began to thrash inside her chest when a gentle voice pierced the rapid thoughts, Don't fret, little bird. I'll take us home.
A fever swept her into the sweet and distant darkness. Cradled in silence, all was erased.