Sitting on the covered wraparound porch of Darya Gennadi’s 18th century cabin that was purchased just a month ago, the two best friends were talking. Darya looked at Matt who had been her confidant since they were kids. “I would have never purchased this house if I’d known the original owners were murdered right inside the house.”
Sitting back in the longue chair, Matt shook his head, sending his long golden bangs flying around his face. Swallowing a few times, Matt attempted to quickly stifle his laughter as it tried to come to the surface and composed himself so he could speak. “Darya, are you kidding me? The fact that the owners who built the house were buried just over there was part of what attracted you to the house.” He pointed out over to where a small graveyard sat along the fence on the far side of the yard from where they were sitting on the porch. “And that their belongings were still in the house when you bought it.”
Looking out over the large yard towards the small family cemetery where the family of four who originally owned the land and built the house were buried, Darya sighed. “I know, but the last couple of weeks things that I can’t explain have been happening. They made me start to think the original owners never left for some reason.”
Pulling her eyes from the small cemetery to look at her friend, Darya smiled as she stood, pushing a stray strand of red hair behind her right ear–a nervous habit she retained from her childhood–as she moved over to the white railing. Turning to lean back against the railing so she was facing him, she said, “Don’t say it. Matt. It’s not the normal things that go bump in the night; its other things.” She shook her head. “You think I am being silly about all this.”
Watching her closely, Matt shook his head as he stood and made his way over to the railing and looked out over the large front yard. “You know, Darya, for all your quirks, I have never known you to let things that you can’t explain scare you away from finding out the truth. Why are you letting these noises or whatever they are scare you out of the house you love?” Slapping on his jean-clad legs, the young man laughed. “Darya, this house has character.”
The two stood there for a while just looking out over the yard in silence. Turning so she was leaning against one of the posts that was holding up the roof of the porch to better see her friend’s profile. “Stay the night, and you’ll see firsthand what I mean. Or are you chicken?” a small smile slowly spread across her face as she watched him.
He leaned down and placed his work worn hands on the railing that was in front of him. Letting his long golden blond hair fall forward to hide his face like a golden veil, Matt slowly turned his head until he was looking at her through that golden veil of hair. “I can’t believe you just made that bet so I’d stay. All you had to do was ask” Flipping his hair out of his face, he smiled at her.
Laughing, Darya shook her head. “Always one for the dramatic, Matt. Come on, I’ll show you the pictures that I took of what I have seen over the last few weeks.” She led the way inside to where her computer sat in one of the small rooms just off the parlor.
He scrolled through the pictures that his friend took, taking in everything that was in them, he could before sitting back. “Okay. I see what you’re saying. However, I still cannot believe you are letting this get to you.” Turning in the chair so he could look directly at her, Matt studied her. “So what are you planning to do?”
Pacing the length of the little room, Darya sighed. “I’ve been giving this a lot of thought since it all started and nothing seems to be the right choice. Those pictures are why; tomorrow I am going to set the house on fire.” Turning suddenly so she was looking at her friend, Darya frowned. “Don’t try and talk me out of it either. I need to set them free. They seemed to be trapped here because of the violent way they died. This will set them free.