Lune did not like her neighbor’s house. She rarely ever visited and with good reason. The house was foreboding. It was strange. It was dark and terrifying. Amidst lovely red and white bricked houses with roofs that slanted at the exact same angle, and perfectly manicured gardens, it stood gray and crooked. Its leaning turrets and haphazard shingles were in sharp contrast to the suburbs around it. And Lune did not like it
That is not to say she wasn’t curious
Her mother had baked casserole the day before, and there were extras leftover. She pleaded with her mother to go deliver it to another house but her efforts were in vain. Her mother ushered her out of the door, half-warm casserole in hand. Lune grumbled and trudged through the thick weeds and stems of their neighbours’ front garden. She knocked on the crumbling wood of the thin front door once, twice.
As she heard the heavy footsteps clunk behind the door, she could feel her heart beat faster in anticipation. The door swung open and Lune’s line of vision slowly dropped down to someone disproportionately small for the noise they made. She stared down and what she assumed was the house help. He had long ears, wrinkled skin, and white hair, his uniform fraying and slate grey like the rest of the house. “Are you here for Mistress Debaus?” His voice grated quietly and when Lune heard them she raised her eyebrows.
“Mistress Debaus?” Lune thought. Her neighbour who had lived in anonymity for so long, that was her name?
“Yes. Could you please take me to her?” The help wrapped bony fingers around Lune’s wrist. Despite being only up to her waist, he pulled her along with surprising force, winding through the house, far too fast for her to observe the house clearly. Patterned gray wallpaper flashed before her eyes, draped across the musty walls. The shelves held old books in languages that seemed far from English, The smell of mothballs overwhelmed her, cloying and suffocating, until the cold air of the garden liberated her. If it could be called a garden.
It was overgrown with weeds, much like her front yard. The dandelions that grew were few and far between, wilting and drooped. The insects that crawled on the prickly leaves hissed on the shaking creepers that ran across the rotting fence.
Lune shuddered.
Sitting on an old plastic chair was none other than who Lune had to assume was Mistress Debaus. Lune did not what she expected, but it was certainly not this. The woman in the chair sat soldier straight, hair pulled into a tight coil. Her lips were a deep burgundy, her eyes shaded by cat-eye sunglasses, and a nose as crooked as her house. The wrinkles on her arms made her seem older, but the sleek gray gown that she wore was almost Victorian. She turned to face Lune, and her smile revealed a mismatched set of sliver and gray teeth.
“Hello dearest” she said “How might I help?”
“Hi, I’m -uh- Lune. I live next door.” She whirled around to face her house, but couldn’t see it past the tall gray chimney of Debaus’ house. “I came here to give you some of our casserole.”
“That’s lovely. Place it on the table, wouldn’t you?”
Lune walked over to the coffee table, which was just as yellowed and rotting as the rest of the house. She placed the casserole on the table. Next to the table was a dark pool. It was lined with smooth round pebbles, and it was no bigger than the coffee table. She would have missed it had she not been looking down. She easily could have stepped over it. But the pool was too dark to be ignored, the water was black like ink, tar-like almost. It extended far beyond what Lune could see, an endless pit of inky black.
“Curious?” Debaus interejected
“Perhaps” Lune responded
Debaus got up from her chair. “That is my pool. I like to go swimming there sometimes.”
“How do you swim in something so small?”
“I swim to the depths, child. You’d be surprised at what you could find. Go on, bend down. Peer into it.”
Lune kneeled down, shaking. she gripped the ground and brought her face close to the water. She could see something moving beneath the surface, the black grew inconsistent, now swirls of grey and she often saw flashes of dark blue.
“What is down ther- ” Lune was not able to finish her sentence, feeling a sharp boot to her back. She yelped, tumbling forward, losing balance on her knees. She felt the pool envelop her, crashing in slow motion. The water was warm and thick, and the splash was muted, the world muffled.
She opened her eyes, to see a clear world of white, unlike the inky black she thought would surround her. Her heart hammered, but she was fascinated. Purple and blue shapes floated around her and she gulped. She couldn’t make sense of it, flying around the thick water. Suddenly something caught her eye. She looked down, not realizing that the pool stretched far below the reach of her feet. she could scarcely see the bottom, instead, she saw the white slowly fading into the dark. From the depths, she could see something move. It was moving.
The dark seemed to get closer and it swirled, bleeding into the white. Lune released bubbles in surprise. The black grew, snaking, and it reached with tentacles. It was much closer now. Close enough that its black tentacles would grab her.
Lune kicked as hard as she could, the air in her lungs giving out. She flailed with her arms. but the surface couldn’t come quickly enough. The black was at her toes, so she kicked harder. Her chest was going to burst. She couldn’t make it in time.
She broke through on the surface, panting and terrified. Lune hoisted herself out of the water, still in shock, stumbling away from the pool.
“Well, dear. What did you see?” Debaus asked.
“I’m not sure. Enjoy your casserole.” Lune kept her head high and tried to seem confident, hoping the colour had returned to her face.
The help smirked.
“I will dear. Thank you.” She grinned with her silver teeth and lowered her glasses.
Lune stared into her eyes. They were white, with black pupils that seemed to twist and reach like tentacles.
She would not be visiting her neighbour anytime soon.
