Promises Broken

Hayden stepped into the entryway and stopped.

The air inside the Murder House felt different from the outside. Heavier. Warmer. She glanced around the dim foyer with the expression of someone already cataloguing flaws. Her overnight bag hung from one shoulder.

“Where is he?” she asked.

Violet closed the door fully. The lock turned with a soft click that neither of them had touched. Hayden did not notice.

“In the kitchen,” Violet said.

She led the way. Hayden’s heels clicked against the hardwood behind her. The sound seemed too loud in the quiet house. When they reached the kitchen doorway Hayden stopped short.

Ben sat at the table in the same chair he had occupied for days. His clothes were wrinkled. His hair was uncombed. He did not look up when they entered. His hands rested loosely on the tabletop. Every so often a fine tremor passed through his shoulders and the rigid shape of the chastity cage pressed visibly against the front of his trousers.

Hayden stared.

“Ben?”

He did not answer. His eyes remained fixed on the wood grain in front of him. A thin thread of saliva had dried at the corner of his mouth.

Hayden turned on Violet, anger rising fast.

“What the hell is wrong with him? What did you people do?”

Violet leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. The House pressed warmly against the back of her mind, attentive and pleased with the sharp new voice filling its rooms.

“He’s been under a lot of stress,” Violet said. Her tone was flat. “You should go. He can’t help you.”

Hayden’s laugh was short and ugly.

“I’m not going anywhere. Ben and I have unfinished business. If he’s having some kind of breakdown, then he still needs to deal with the consequences of what he started.” She stepped closer to the table and snapped her fingers in front of Ben’s face. “Ben. Look at me.”

Ben’s eyes shifted a fraction. For a second something like recognition flickered. Then it died. He made a small, continuous sound in the back of his throat, the same broken noise he had been making for days whenever the cage reminded him it was still there.

Hayden’s expression changed. Confusion first. Then the beginning of unease.

Vivien appeared in the doorway to the living room. Her robe was loosely tied. Her eyes were her own for the moment, but they looked exhausted and wary. When she saw Hayden her face went carefully blank.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Vivien said quietly.

Hayden straightened, ready for a fight she understood.

“I have every right to be here. Your husband made me promises. He told me he was leaving. He told me—”

The temperature in the kitchen dropped several degrees at once.

All three women felt it. Ben’s trembling increased. The House had stopped merely watching.

From the hallway leading toward the basement came the soft, dragging sound of something heavy moving through the dark.

Hayden turned toward the noise, irritation still outweighing fear.

“What was that?”

Violet’s pulse kicked hard in her throat. The echoes of the basement still lived in her body. She knew that sound.

The Pale Man was awake again.

And the House had just been given someone new to play with.