The Crimson Curse

The mist enveloped the meandering road to Mallow Glide and wrapped around the trees as though they were being touched by spectral hands. Olivia Cent gripped the steering wheel harder while her car's headlights cut through the foggy night. A decade passed since she drove this road but every curve remained vivid in her mind as a roadmap of regret and unavoidable fate that led her to the town she vowed never to return to.

The call had come two days ago. Her mother, Evelyn, was gone. A sudden heart attack, they said. The cold medical explanation for her loss remained unprocessed by Olivia. Her mother and she hadn't talked for years because secrets and unbreakable silences had strained their relationship. And now it was too late.

The town sign emerged from the haze, its peeling paint barely visible: The town sign appeared through the mist showing its fading paint which displayed "Welcome to Mallow Glide: Est. 1834" while someone had added above it in red spray paint: "Beware the Moon."

The cold made Olivia shiver as she applied more pressure to the accelerator.

---

The house stood at the edge of town, just as she remembered it: At the town's edge she found the house she remembered so well: a two-story colonial structure with dark shutters and a porch that visibly sagged. Watching it sent a sudden feeling of discomfort through her. The windows stared back at her with empty-eyed gaze while the untamed yard seemed to pulse with eerie quietness.

After parking the vehicle she remained stationary for a few seconds while she observed the house. The rearview mirror revealed her tired face with dark circles under her hazel eyes and auburn hair loosely tied in a messy bun. At thirty-one years old she felt centuries older because of the overwhelming weight of returning home.

The sound of someone knocking on her window shocked her into turning around to see someone she recognized.

She spoke the name "Michael Reed" while lowering the car window.

She realized he was taller than she had remembered when she saw the man standing before her in a park ranger's uniform with his broad shoulders filling it out. After his dark hair was cropped short his intense green eyes evaluated her with both curiosity and concern.

"Olivia," he said with a deep and consistent voice. "I heard you were coming back. I just...wanted to check in."

After exiting the car she paused and they remained silent in uncomfortable tension. Michael served as her most reliable friend throughout high school who she could always depend on when her mother's unpredictable mood swings became overwhelming. The passage of time created a barrier between them which she couldn't find a way to dismantle.

She said her thanks and moved aside to take her suitcase from the trunk before stating, "But I'm fine."

"Coming back here...after everything," he asked gently. "Are you?"

She cut him off, saying "I'm here just for the funeral."

Michael simply nodded and refrained from asking more questions.

She responded to him with a brief nod then proceeded up the stairs on the wooden porch. The door made a loud noise when she opened it, showing the dark and moldy inside of the house.

---

The atmosphere inside was dense with the combined odor of dust particles and aged wooden surfaces. All the furniture remained exactly as she remembered with white sheets covering it like ghosts who'd been forgotten. The walls displayed her mother's antique clocks with faces stopped at various times as if time itself had deserted this space.

She placed her suitcase next to the stairs before heading towards the kitchen. The dining table remained arranged for two people although dust had layered over the plates. Guilt twisted within her chest like a sharp pain. This house had been preserved in her mother's loving anticipation of Olivia's return.

On the kitchen counter she noticed a stack of envelopes addressed to her with her mother's precise writing. Opening the top envelope from the stack she felt her heart racing.