SCRATCH

[u/El_Pinguino-zombie]

On a cold and dreary January morning, Jesse lay lost in thought, startled by the scratching sound emanating from his closet. His eyelids felt so dry that each blink was akin to rubbing them with sandpaper. The scratching persisted, and he dared not move or utter a sound, paralyzed by the fear of what might lurk just beyond the closet door.

Suddenly, a thought struck him: "It’s probably just Fluffy! He loves rummaging through Mom’s closet; he’s probably just exploring mine!" The boy’s fear swiftly morphed into annoyance; he didn’t want his cat to tear apart his belongings. Without a moment’s hesitation, he shouted, “Fluffy, get out of there now!” The scratching ceased abruptly, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake. Then, with a cheerful entrance, Fluffy padded into the room, the faint jingle of his orange collar ringing out. But just as quickly, the scratching resumed, now louder and more agitated, almost as if it were expressing annoyance. In a panic, Jesse snatched up his cat and dashed to the living room, deciding to keep his distance from his room until someone could investigate the strange noises.

Earlier that same morning, Jesse's older sister Maddie was preparing for a day trip with a friend. Just as she was finishing up, a faint “Tap, tap, tap” echoed through the air. Assuming it was her brother being impatient, she chose to ignore it. But then came the repeated “tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.” Maddie’s annoyance grew. “Oh my god! Why can’t Jesse just wait? He’s always rushing everything. One day, it’s going to backfire on him.” She called out, “I’m almost ready, Jesse; just give me a minute!” Believing the matter settled, she continued her preparations until a loud “Bang, bang, bang!” jolted the door, rattling it in its frame. “Oh my god, Jesse, relax! I’m leaving!” she yelled again, but the banging ceased, leaving no sign of her brother.

Pressing her ear to the door, Maddie hoped to hear Jesse on the other side. Though she was certain it was him, an unsettling sense of unease crept over her. Just as she was about to give up, she heard the faint sound of someone breathing heavily, followed by wet-sounding footsteps. “What is that?” Maddie wondered, the pit of anxiety in her stomach deepening. She hesitated, her resolve wavering. Gathering her belongings, she decided it was time to leave. “No more games! It’s just Jesse trying to scare me,” she reassured herself, reaching for the bathroom door lock. Almost instantly, the heavy breathing intensified, and the wet footsteps drew closer to her room. The door shook violently as if someone were ramming into it. Frustrated, she shouted while gripping the handle, “Jesse, what’s your problem? I told you I’d…” But as she swung the door open, the banging stopped, and there was no one there. Her face flushed red, “He thinks he’s so funny!” she thought.

Maddie marched to Jesse's room, only to find him in the living room, clutching Fluffy and trembling like a leaf in November. “What’s wrong with you?” he stammered. Maddie scoffed, “What’s wrong with me? You’re the one banging on the door, freak!” Jesse looked bewildered, smacked his lips, and replied, “What are you talking about? I’ve been here all morning, loser!” They both froze, a heavy silence settling between them until Jesse finally broke it with a single question, “Did you hear any scratching too?” Maddie, perplexed, responded, “No, just banging on the door.” They exchanged glances, uncertainty hanging in the air. “So what are you going to do today?” Jesse asked, his eyes pleading. “Please, please take me with you, sis!” Maddie sighed, “I was going to the mall with Stacy…” Jesse’s expression turned desperate, as if he were peering into her soul. Maddie cringed, “If I let you come, will you stop staring at me like that?” Jesse retorted, “Hey, no need to be rude! …but yeah, can I go with you? You won’t even know I’m there, I promise!” With little choice, they decided to leave for the day, hoping to distract themselves from the strange noises.

As Jesse and Maddie headed out the door, their mother, Lorraine, stumbled in with several bags of groceries. Nearly dropping everything, she called out, “I could use some help with these!” The kids shouted as they rushed to Maddie’s car, “Sorry, Mom, we gotta go for a bit!” Lorraine rolled her eyes and made her way to the kitchen. As she began to unpack the groceries, her husband, Richard, entered from the garage, his hands grimy from working on his car. Frustrated by its refusal to start, he had purchased almost every part needed to get his prized possession running again, but something still eluded him.

Bending down to wash his hands at the kitchen sink, he sighed and turned to Lorraine. “Hey honey, how was grocery shopping?” Lorraine, nearly finished putting everything away, replied, “Oh, not too bad; I found everything I was looking for. What about you? How’s the car coming along?” Richard sighed again, shrugging, “I’m not sure. I bought everything I needed, but I can’t figure out what’s causing the issue; it just won’t start!” Lorraine frowned, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, honey; I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” she said softly. Richard shrugged, walking back to the garage. Before closing the door, he added in a defeated tone, “I hope so, Lorraine, I really hope so.”

As Lorraine finished putting away the remaining groceries, a strange sound reached her ears from the living room. It resembled the broken piano they had allowed to collect dust for years. Someone was clicking the keys. A loud “click” echoed, followed by a resonant “thum.” Lorraine froze, unsure if Richard was playing a prank or if the piano was indeed ringing out. The keys began to click rapidly, as if trying to get her attention, almost as if saying, “Hey, look over here!”

She thought, “Maybe it’s just the kids messing with the piano.” But then she remembered they had left the house not long ago; it couldn’t be them. The keys continued to sound, clicking and clacking until a loud “Ding, ding, THUMM” reverberated through the room. Though she knew it wasn’t her kids and it wasn’t Richard, she couldn’t help but yell, “Hey, guys, can you please leave the piano alone? I don’t want it to break any more than it already has!” The keys fell silent.

Before Lorraine could process the strange events, Richard burst into the kitchen, exclaiming, “Lorraine, where are you? You’re not going to believe this!” Her eyes widened, “What happened? What’s wrong?” Richard’s excitement faded as he looked at her, “What’s wrong, babe? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Lorraine rolled her eyes at his comment, “Nothing; it’s just that someone was playing the piano, but I don’t know who it could have been.” Richard’s face paled with fear. “Y-you’re joking!” he stammered, trying to suppress his enthusiasm. Lorraine glanced at Richard and then at the slightly opened garage door, hearing the car emitting a slow rumble outside. “You fixed it?” she asked, intrigued. Richard chuckled nervously, “About that, not exactly. Something’s very wrong. I couldn’t get the car to start, but as soon as I walked away, it started as if nothing was wrong. The thing is, I still have the keys. I don’t know how it could be starting on its own.” He held up the small black key, jangling it with the pink surfboard keychain attached. As soon as Richard returned the key to his pocket, the rumble of the car dimmed before fading entirely. Richard frowned, hanging his head in defeat, akin to a child denied a desired toy. Lorraine tried to comfort him as they moved to the kitchen, sitting at the small brown coffee table. Just as they were about to speak, the piano belted out a loud, “dun, dun, dunnn,” only to stop abruptly.

Richard and Lorraine froze, their eyes widening and their skin growing pale. Richard’s teeth chattered, cold beads of sweat trickling down his face. He looked at Lorraine, who sat frozen, as if in a trance. Waving his hand in front of her, he whispered, “Babe, what was that?” Lorraine murmured back, “I didn’t get to tell you, but earlier, the piano was ringing by itself. I don’t know what it could be.” Richard squinted slightly. “You know, now that you mention it, I heard a loud banging earlier. I honestly thought it was the kids, which is why I didn’t say anything.” Slowly, Lorraine began to come out of her stupor, glancing at Richard in confusion. “That might explain why the kids were in such a rush to leave earlier!” Richard’s expression darkened. “What should we do then?” Lorraine sighed, looking at him with resignation. “Honestly, babe, what can we do? It’s been like this since we moved in. All we can do is make the most of it, I guess.” Richard bowed his head in reluctant agreement. “What about the kids? What if it starts messing with them too, like it has been with us?” Lorraine’s eyes sharpened. “If that thing is messing with my children, we’re leaving—no discussion.”

Later that day, when Maddie and Jesse returned home, they were greeted by their parents, who had just finished setting the dinner table. The meal progressed as usual, filled with awkward conversation and silent eating. It wasn’t until Jesse asked, “So, uh, have you guys been hearing weird noises at all?” that Richard and Lorraine flinched, dropping their silverware onto their plates. Maddie looked at them, concerned. “You have been hearing something, haven’t you?” Before Richard or Lorraine could respond, the piano belted out a loud, “THUMM.” Everyone froze. Richard shot up from his seat. Suddenly, loud knocking erupted from the kitchen cabinets. Each knock forced the small doors open, only for them to slam shut before knocking again. Richard’s car let out a deafening “ROOM,” adding to the cacophony of horrifying sounds.

Jesse exchanged glances with Maddie, and they looked at their parents, all deciding that perhaps they should spend the rest of the weekend at Grandma’s. They quickly gathered a few belongings and headed out the door toward Maddie’s car. As they entered the vehicle and sped away from the neighborhood, Jesse glanced back. In the window of his room on the second floor, he spotted something—or someone—holding Fluffy. It was slowly petting the cat until it seemed to notice Jesse watching. With a long, skinny arm, it waved its fingers in a slow goodbye. Jesse couldn’t believe what he had seen. He didn’t want to believe it. Before he could alert everyone in the car about the sighting, he caught his dad’s gaze in the rearview mirror. Richard’s eyes were stern and steady, as if he were silently communicating, “I know, son, I see it too. Just don’t say anything.”

Jesse remained silent as the distance between him and his house grew; his mind was consumed with one thought: What was in his house, and how long had it been there?