The house was silent when I woke up. The usual noise of my mom bustling around or Williams' slamming of the bedroom door was absent. It felt...wrong. The air had a heaviness, like the calm before a storm.
I glanced at the clock—9:30 AM. It wasn't like my brother to sleep in, especially after the way he'd been acting lately. He was usually up early, going for walks or running some errand. But today, I hadn't heard a peep from him.
I dragged myself out of bed, reluctantly pulling off the blanket as I winced at the coldness of the floor beneath my bare feet. Stretching, I went to the window and peeked outside. The sky was an unsettling shade of gray, the clouds swirling ominously, as if warning me about something I wasn't ready to understand.
I shook my head, trying to shake off the strange feeling creeping up my spine. I'd spent most of the night thinking about what happened with Williams. That thing he did—his jaw unhinging like some horror movie monster—it didn't seem real. He was my brother. He couldn't have just... snapped like that. But what if he had?
My thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud from downstairs, followed by the creak of floorboards. I froze. Was someone in the house? I hadn't heard anyone move around, at least not when I was awake. Hesitant, I crept out of my room, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
"Mom?" I called softly as I reached the stairs. No answer. My fingers clutched the railing tighter, and I took a slow step forward, eyes scanning the dark hall below. There was a faint light coming from the kitchen, but nothing else stirred. It was almost too quiet.
I tiptoed down the stairs, my bare feet making no sound against the old wood. The kitchen was at the far end of the hall. The closer I got, the more I could hear soft, rhythmic tapping. It was coming from behind the kitchen door, steady and unnervingly deliberate.
"Mom?" I called out again, louder this time. No answer.
The door was ajar, just wide enough for me to see a sliver of the room. The tapping continued, and I felt a pang of dread settle in my stomach. I knew that sound. I'd heard it before, though it was different. The sound of nails—someone—or something—scraping against the wooden surface.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. Slowly, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
What I saw sent a shockwave through me. There was Williams, sitting at the kitchen table, his back to me. He wasn't making eye contact, but I could hear the tapping sound—it was coming from his fingers. They were drumming incessantly against the table, the rhythm somehow off, like it wasn't quite in time with reality.
"Will?" I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
He didn't react. His head was bowed, his hair obscuring his face, but I could still see the hollowed-out look in his posture. It was like he wasn't even there. His body was physically present, but his mind... wasn't.
I stepped closer, my heart thudding harder in my chest. "Hey, are you alright?"
Suddenly, his head snapped up, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made me stumble back. They were wide, unblinking, the pupils almost too large. "You shouldn't be here," he said, his voice cold and distant.
"What?" My voice caught in my throat. "What do you mean? I'm your brother."
He stared at me, as if seeing me for the first time, then looked away, his eyes trailing to the window. There was a strange tremor in his hand as it lifted from the table, still twitching. "It's already started. You need to leave".