The Warning

The Old House

The taxi left Mark at the end of a narrow, dark track. The driver turned the car and drove away. Its red lights were lost in the mist.

Mark pulled his coat around him. The night air was cold. Somewhere far away, he smelled wood smoke.

At the end of the track, there was a house. It was big and grey. Tall windows watched him like black eyes. Only one window showed a yellow light. Mark checked the address on his phone. Yes, this was the place. His old school friend Ben had invited him to a house-warming party. Ben liked strange old buildings. “This one is very special. You’ll see,” he had said.

Mark pushed open the iron gate. It gave a long, sad creak. The garden was wild, dead leaves covering the path. He stepped over a fallen branch and reached the door.

He pressed the bell. Far inside, a bell gave a slow, deep ring. After a long wait, the door opened.

“Mark! You’ve arrived!” Ben’s face was red from drink and excitement. Music and voices came from the rooms behind him. Warm air, smelling of wine and candles, poured out.

Ben gave him a quick hug and took his coat. “Come in. Everyone’s in the sitting room.”

Mark followed the sound of laughing. About twenty people stood or sat with drinks in their hands. A fire burned in the huge fireplace. Shadows moved across the old wallpaper.

Ben introduced him to a few people, then was pulled away by another guest. Mark stood with a glass of wine and looked round. The room was beautiful but the carpet was old, and the high ceiling was full of cracks.

He felt a cold draught and turned. A small girl stood in front of the door. She looked about six years old. Her hair was long and dark. She wore a pale dress.

“Hello,” Mark said. “Are you Ben’s niece? We’ve never met but I’ve heard a lot about you.”

The girl looked at him with wide grey eyes. “Don’t go in the back room,” she said. Her voice was soft but clear.

Mark smiled, surprised. “Why not?”

“The room at the end of the upstairs corridor,” she whispered. “The one with the big window. Don’t go in.”

Before he could ask more, someone shouted his name. He turned his head. When he looked back, the girl had gone.

A Strange Warning

Later, Mark found Ben near the fire. “I just met your niece,” Mark said. “Pretty little girl. She told me not to go in the back room upstairs.”

Ben laughed. “My sister brought her? I didn’t see them come in. She probably went to bed early but then couldn’t sleep. She always comes downstairs when she can’t sleep.”

“Her warning sounded serious,” Mark replied.

Ben poured more wine. “The house is full of creaks and cracks. Maybe she’s heard some story about the old rooms. Don’t worry about it.”

Mark drank some of his drink, but the girl’s grey eyes stayed in his mind. The draught he had felt was still there, a thin stream of cold air that touched the back of his neck.

Exploring the House

The party grew louder. Mark smiled when people spoke to him, but his mind stayed on the girl. Why had she told him not to go into a room? Children liked games, but her face had been too serious for play.

He finished his drink and put the empty glass on a table. Ben was busy talking. Mark went quickly out into the hall.

The corridor looked like a tunnel in front of him. Old paintings looked down from the walls. The air was cooler here, and the smell of smoke from the fire disappeared. He heard only the creak of the old floor under his shoes.

At the bottom of the stairs, he stopped. A tiny sound came from above. It was like the soft sound of small shoes. He looked up. Nothing moved.

He climbed slowly. Each step groaned. At the top, he found a long corridor. The carpet was thin and dusty. There were lots of doors, most of them closed. A single light burned at the far end, weak and yellow.

He remembered the girl’s words: the room at the end of the upstairs corridor, the one with the big window.

Mark moved forward, his breath making a mist in the cold air. Halfway down the corridor, he stopped. He thought he heard a whisper, so soft he could not understand the words.

“Hello?” he called.

Silence.

He pushed open the first door. A small bedroom. A bed, a wardrobe, nothing more. He closed it gently and moved to the next. Another bedroom, dusty but tidy.

From somewhere came a faint crack. What was it? He looked towards the last door. A pale line of moonlight showed at the bottom. The big window, perhaps.

He took one slow step, then another. As he put out his hand to open the door, a small voice spoke behind him.

“Don’t.”

He turned around quickly. The girl stood a few feet away. Her grey eyes were wide.

“You must not go in,” she said.

Mark tried to smile. “Your uncle knows I’m up here. I only want to look. Why is it so dangerous?”

Her face did not change. “Please. Promise me.”

He felt a shiver. “Alright,” he said. “I promise.”

The girl was pleased. “Good.” She turned and walked back towards the stairs.

Mark followed at once. The corridor felt even colder now. At the top of the stairs, he saw only shadows. The girl was gone.

Back at the Party

When he returned to the sitting room, the noise almost hurt. Ben looked at him.

“Where were you?” Ben asked.

“Upstairs,” Mark said. “I met your niece again. She stopped me going into the last room on the corridor.”

“Is she still telling you stories?” said Ben. “She’s normally asleep by this time, but I guess the party is too loud.”

Mark frowned. “She looked serious – like there was real danger.”

But Ben wasn’t worried. “This house is so old. Maybe she’s heard someone say the ceiling is weak. I should check it myself.”

Mark smiled but said nothing. He could still hear the girl’s words – Please. Promise me – in his mind.

The Dare

The party went on. People danced to music that grew wilder as bottles emptied. Mark tried to enjoy himself, but the image of the girl never left his mind.

Near midnight, a tall man with a loud laugh cried, “Who wants to see the famous moon-room upstairs? Ben, show us the big window you keep talking about!”

Ben looked confused. “I never said—”

But the others really wanted to see it. Someone shouted, “Let’s all go! I heard the moonlight is amazing.”

Mark’s heart beat loudly. “Wait,” he said. “Maybe not. The ceiling might not be safe.”

The tall man smiled. “A little dust won’t hurt us. Come on!”

A small crowd moved towards the stairs. Ben followed, frowning.

Mark caught Ben’s arm. “Your niece warned me. Twice. She said not to go in that room. She sounded frightened.”

“My niece?” said Ben. “She’s gone home. My sister left hours ago.”

Mark looked at him with big eyes. “No. I spoke to her. She was upstairs just now.”

“No,” Ben said. “She isn’t here.”

The guests were already going upstairs. Mark felt suddenly extremely worried. He pushed through the crowd. “Please! Stop! The ceiling might fall!”

His voice was lost under the noise of laughing and footsteps.

The Ceiling

They reached the upstairs corridor. The tall man opened the last door wide. Moonlight poured across the floor from a great window.

“See?” he said. “Nothing…”

A loud crack cut his words. Dust came down from the high ceiling.

Ben shouted, “Get out, everyone!”

Another crack – like a gun. A piece of the ceiling broke and fell. Mark jumped forward and pulled the nearest woman back.

The ceiling groaned. A huge piece of the ceiling fell down where the group had stood a moment before. Dust filled the air. People coughed and screamed.

Mark held a scarf over his mouth. His heart beat loudly in his ears. For a long time, there was only the sound of falling dust.

When the air was clear again, the moon shone through a hole in the roof. Broken wood lay in a pale pile.

Ben looked white. “Oh my God. If we’d stayed inside…”

Mark looked at his friend. “The girl. She warned me… twice.”

Ben looked back at him. “Mark, I’m telling you. There was no girl.”

The Empty Hall

Shocked, they took the guests back downstairs. Some had cuts from flying pieces of wood; others were shaking from the shock. Someone called the emergency services to check the house.

Mark stepped into the quiet hall. Cold air touched his face. A faint sound made him turn.

At the bottom of the stairs, the little girl stood. Grey eyes, pale dress, dark hair. She looked at him for a long moment.

“Thank you for listening,” she said softly.

Mark took a step towards her. “Who are you?”

But as he spoke, she disappeared like mist. First her face, then her dress, then nothing. The hall was empty.

Ben came from the sitting room. “Mark? Who are you talking to?”

Mark’s throat was dry. “The girl… She…” He stopped. Ben’s confused face told him the truth.

Ben frowned. “Years ago,” he said slowly, “people say a little girl died when that ceiling fell. My sister told me the story. I’d forgotten until now.”

Mark looked back at the stairs. A thin stream of cold air flowed down them like a breath. He shivered.

Afterwards

The emergency services arrived and checked the damage. Everyone left the house before daylight.

Outside, Mark turned for one last look. Moonlight shone on the roof. He thought he saw a small figure at an upstairs window, but when he looked again, it was gone – only a shadow.

In the cold of early morning, he whispered, “Thank you,” and walked down the misty track.