The Precedent
Áron Kaposvári
Where should I start? When I saw the advertisement? Maybe when I bought the house? Or after I moved in? Anyway, I have made up my mind, you must understand the precedent of my story. Everything started with an advertisement. It was a wet, grey and dark day, and I was walking on the streets in a town, the name of which I have long forgotten and is not even important. There were several adverisements all around, but only one that piqued my curiosity. It described a cozy-looking wooden cottage in the woods. But as I was reading it, a stranger came up to me, saying that I had better forget about dealing with that house as it is cursed, and that its previous owner had died mysteriously a week after moving in. He gave one last warning before walking away, leaving me speechless. I didn’t believe a word he said, though it stirred up a little fear in me.
Two days passed, and I was standing in front of the cottage. It seemed quite old and not visited for a long time. I looked around one last time before entering, seeing the endless forest surrounding me. It was a little scary, but I thought ”nevermind.” The first thing I found was a medium-sized room, but I was not sure yet what it was used for. Most likely it was a kitchen, though it was tremendously messy. A small, slim-legged, strong-looking table stood there, accompanied by two chairs, under a window with crimson-red curtains. The kitchen itself was very well equipped with a cutlery set and different types of plates filling up the polished oak cupboards, situated above the oven. Then I walked past several rooms, all evoking the same old-fashioned effect.
The other room of note was the living room. There was a sofa, two armchairs, a beautiful carpet on the floor, several wardrobes, bookshelves and even a TV set. I wanted to turn the TV on but couldn’t find the remote control. After a while, I decided to leave this task for later; I went on to the bedroom.
It was a tiny but quite inviting place, full of different things. The bed emanated a quite kind and settling set of emotions, beckoning me to take a relaxing nap in it. Next to the bed stood a nice desk, where I could work and read in the evenings. The best part of the room took the form of paintings and pictures that covered the walls, as these had a soothing effect on me.
A week had gone by, and I was sitting in an armchair drinking a hot cup of tea. I was thinking of how clever I was, not listening to that stranger earlier, and moving into this old, wooden cottage. I felt I had finally found my true home, far away from bustling cities and civilization, surrounded by the peaceful nature. At least that’s what I thought. The day passed, evening had fallen. I was watching a TV show to distract myself from my fear, which stemmed partly from the storm raging outside and partly from the fact that the stranger’s warning was still echoing in my head. But then suddenly I heard a knocking on the door. This startled me, I forgot everything I had in my mind. I stood up and went to open the door. Who could this unexpected visitor be, and why did they come? On my way tot he front door I tried to figure this out. Suddenly, fear took hold of me, and I froze before the door; I just couldn’t get myself to open it. It occurred to me that I could look out the window, inspecting the person that way. But nobody was there. Convinced of that, I opened the door. Still nobody was there. So I decided to step out, to have a look around. As the storm was still raging I could barely see anything; getting soaked was my least problem at the moment. Only the dark and eerie forest, that’s all I saw. It was strange not to find anyone. Then I realised that I left the door open, with the key in the keyhole, and anyone could enter and lock me out. In possession of this idea, I quickly ran into my house, and locked the door. But something was not right, the TV was crackling, despite the fact that I didn’t left it this way. Fear gripped me again. I looked for the remote control, I turned on the lights, but to my greatest surprise, the carpet was rolled up, and a secret trapdoor was opened from the floor leading to the basement. I was shocked and froze for a minute. I wasn’t told about any basement. At this point I really wanted to go back to the town, but at the same time, I was attracted by curiosity to investigate. Luckily, there was a ladder I could use. But just as I was about to reach the bottom, I saw a pair of eyes peeking out from the other end of the house. That completely terrified me, and I immediately slammed the little door shut so it wouldn’t catch up to me. I was in a complete panic, my heart was pounding. I thought I was going to collapse right then and there. Amidst a menacing storm of hasty moves and desperate thoughts I somehow managed to find the light switch and turn on the light. I was surrounded by stone walls. Everything was covered in dirt and grime, yet the most striking feature was a tiny window. Besides that, the place was crammed full of all sorts of junk, making it almost impossible for me to move anywhere. There was also a small table there, and on top of the old books lying on it, I spotted a diary. It must have belonged to the previous owner, I thought. I decided I had to find out the truth, so I flipped through it. It was written in quick, scrawled handwriting; I could barely make out what it said. As I read, my fear grew with every sentence, because I began to recognize my own situation more and more: knocking, nobody at the door, crackling TV, rolled carpet, secret trapdoor, someone watching. At the end, the writer desperately noted that they had found him, and then the writing broke off with unreadable scribbles. But when I closed it, I heard footsteps approaching the entrance of the basement. My body became transfixed. Then I suddenly realised that just standing there is the worst thing I could do, and fortunately I came to my senses. I cast another glance at the window and immediately seized the opportunity. Just as I began to climb out, the footsteps above stopped, the trapdoor slowly opened… and though I survived that night physically and moved out the next morning without incident, a part of my soul remained forever in that dark cellar.
