rm-r comic Halloween Contest 2012

The gravel crunched below the tires as the pair of vehicles crept up the unpaved driveway. It was dusk out, a cool night in October, and the couple had called their real estate agent in a last-minute appointment set up. The woman had hoped against hope that they, her most persnickety clients, would leave her be tonight - it was Halloween, after all, and she'd promised her little daughter she wouldn't spend it working. She sighed; that's what she promised every year, and every year without fail someone scheduled and appointment for this house. A knot tightened itself in her chest as she got out of the car, and without looking at the couple, went straight for the lock-box on the door.
Tom turned the key in the ignition, shutting the car as he surveyed the exterior. The house was white - or it had been, once. Great orange water stains marked the sides of the construct, matching the rusted tin roof. Tying the color scheme in was the red door of the house, which had great steely scrapes running down it. He snorted in amusement. He and his wife had given Claudia a specific set of parameters to weed out the unsuitable houses on the market - he was dying to know how this one scraped through the filter.
"I don't like the look of this place," Donna said slowly, her voice just above a whisper, as if she were afraid that Claudia would somehow overhear her. She appreciated their agent's efforts and time, her willingness to take them to this house at the last moment, but something about the house rubbed her the wrong way. She began to question why Claudia had put this on the list in the first place, and could see why she'd marked it through with one single line of ink and a footnote that said 'last resort.'
But it was a last resort. Tom had been transferred two months ago to the plant in Brunswick, and between the mortgage of their home in Atlanta and her husband's rent, they could barely make end's meet. They had to find a place to live here, soon, and Donna was to go back to Atlanta in two days. They didn't have time or options anymore. For them, it was do or die.
Tom didn't see the urgency that his wife did - he never saw the urgency, really. Moreover, he found that the whole situation was ridiculous. Donna didn't even want to be here. Claudia didn't want to be here, and he sure as Hell didn't want to be here. The place was practically falling apart. But Donna was the eternal optimist. It would take a lot of reasoning for him to convince her that renovations would cost more than the actual home. Between that and the fact that the house was set some half a mile off the road, with a long, winding driveway and heavy forest cover surrounding them, he hardly wanted to get out of the car. He surveyed his dashboard one last time, perhaps just stalling, before he reached over to undo his buckle.
He paused, a low laugh rising from his chest. "Hey, Dee, look at this," he said, pointing to the Odometer. He'd reset it when they and Claudia had met at the plant, as he liked to keep track of how far from work they would be if they chose the house. Donna leaned over the armrest that sat in between them and looked, letting out a squeaky laugh. Tom read the number, shaking his head and opening the door, getting out. "Triple six. Could you believe that?" he asked loudly, his voice resonating off the trees. This far back, the din of the highway at the end of the drive was almost nonexistent.
"A coincidence indeed," Claudia smiled wryly. "Some Halloween black magic, if there ever was! Come on."
She ushered the couple inside, cringing at each squeaky floorboard that was stepped on, each beam that cracked and creaked as they moved through the house. She looked down at her notes, trying to remember that she had a job to do. "The uhm... the house was built in the nineties. It's seen a... colorful range of tenants. Most of them were..." her eyes travel to a corner of the room where the paint is peeling from the wall. When she realized she'd stopped talking, that her routine had been interrupted, she snapped her attention back to the couple. Donna was examining the countertops, which had been redone nearly once a year since the structure was erected. Tom was standing in the living room, staring up at the ceiling, at a wide stain that was steadily spreading over the off- white paint. "Most of them left under... sudden circumstances."
"What's this?" Tom asked, obviously not listening to the woman's spiel. He was still staring up at the ceiling, and the large wet stain that was beginning to leak from above. Droplets of what seemed like water dripped into the carpet, which was already matted and discolored. He reached his hand out and caught a drop. T burned slightly, but he supposed he was lucky it didn't eat right through his hand, with the state the house was in. It wasn't water, couldn't be; it was the wrong viscosity, even if only slightly.
"Rain must have leaked through the roof upstairs. It's happened more than once, but that's because no one takes care of the property in between tenants. It's... privately owned."
"It's disgusting." He snapped.
"Can we leave?" Donna asked. Her voice was a higher pitch than normal, but it remained unregistered by Claudia. She was in a panic, Tom knew. She always was.
The agent's face lit up for a moment. "Of course!" There was a massive crack as one of the beams settled, and her face fell again, her eyes darting around the room, finally settling on that same corner, the paint peeling as if rancid. "Just let me... go to the car for something. I'll be right back, we can talk about our next steps and then we'll go for dinner. Sound like a plan?"
Tom shrugged at the woman's amiable suggestion. "Sure," He said.
She nodded her thanks and went from the house, her heels clicking with every step towards the door. She shut it behind her and stood there for a moment, before kneeling down and picking up the padlock. Claudia fastened it over the doorknob and locked it with the key that hung on an elastic around her wrist.
That's when the noises began.
She hated this. She hated the screaming and the awful wet noises. She hated the smell and the way that the trees seemed to block out all light and all sound. She felt more trapped than the couple that was dying inside of the house. She was more trapped. She was rooted to the spot and didn't even have the option to move until the noises stopped, until the meal was over and until the electric hold that was placed over her was released. She gasped for breath, staggering off of the rickety porch.
Claudia felt sick as she moved back to her car.
"Is mommy going home?" she heard, and averted her eyes. The voice was sickly sweet, a low whine in her ears and sophisticated, deceptively sophisticated.
"Yes. I promised her." She muttered.
"Of course! And mommy is oh so good at keeping her promises, isn't she? You've done quite a job here tonight, Claudia. Two of them. I daresay the little lady knew what was coming the moment you pulled up to the driveway!" he let out a cackling laugh, and Claudia caught a glimpse of him through the rear-view mirror. He was nearly as black as night, though his eyes shone like a cat's. When he grinned, she could see his teeth, needle sharp and flecked with blood. "Although I have to give credit to the burly one - he almost caught on! Oh, Claudia, don't look so down!" he cheered, leaning against the car door and pushing his face to hers. "Now you get to go home to your precious little girl! It's that all you want?" His voice was smooth and slick like oil, but tinged with a poison. He knew he had full control over her and her daughter, whom he'd given her in return for her services. He didn't ask for much. She was lucky - he only required of her one meal a year. For that, she got a daughter.
She swallowed hard, trying to repress her gag reflex that was triggered by the rank smell. "Yes...I...Yes." She muttered, starting the car.
He smacked his lips in satisfaction, and adjusted his tie. "Well then. Best get home, take her trick or treating if there's still time!" He watched sharply as Claudia muttered her agreements and backed out of the drive. He made sure she was nearly out of earshot before he called out to her: "See you next year, then!"
His barking laughter was the last thing that resonated through the forest that night, as he saw her cringe before disappearing from sight.
It'd been a good Halloween.