In Love with The Dark

Derrick picked up his bag, wiping the dirt off his face as the car pulled away. As he made his way to the old farmhouse in front of him, a woman in her late forties waved him down from the front steps.

"Hi, are you Derrick Sullivan?" The woman asked.

"I am. I take it you're the caretaker here?"

"Yes, the name's Samantha Granger but you can call me Sam. I trust your trip went well?" Sam shook his hand, giving that caring, motherly smile that had been foreign to him for many years.

"Yes, thank you." Derrick took off his hat and slipped it into his back pocket as Sam guided him toward the house.

"How long are you on leave for Mr. Sullivan?" Sam asked as she noticed a slight limp in his gate.

"Actually I was medically discharged. That's why I'm looking for a home," Derrick stated, looking down.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Well, I thank you so much for your service. You young men don't get enough credit for what you do for our country," Sam stated as she gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. Well, let's get a look at the house. I'm sure you didn't come all this way to talk to me." Sam turned toward the house while Derrick followed.

"It's fine," Derrick said as his eyes sank toward the ground. He was actually enjoying the chatter as he hadn't really talked to anyone in a few days. Being an orphan he really didn't have a family to come home to, especially after receiving the dreaded Dear John letter only a couple of months prior.

"I don't know how much you know about this place but it has a unique history. I've cared for it off and on for the past few years. People just don't seem to stay very long," Sam began to sound a little ominous as she opened the front door.

"Pray tell?" Derrick perked up at her words.

"Well I probably shouldn't yammer on about this but previous owners give a similar story when staying here at night. Things move about on their own, doors opening and closing and some even claim to see the silhouette of a young woman with short hair." Sam paused as Derrick closed the door behind them.

"Are you telling me this place is haunted Mrs. Granger?" Derrick's voice became stern.

"Well, I'm no medium young man I'm just telling you the rumors you see. In fact, I was never really a believer in the supernatural myself, but after three or more homeowners give a similar story you begin to pay attention." Sam began rubbing her arms as the house began to grow chilly.

"Are you okay Mrs. Granger?" Derrick asked seemingly unaffected.

"I told you to call me Sam honey. No need to be so formal. I swear it doesn't matter what time of year it is here, this house seems to always be so damn cold." Sam grabbed a housecoat off the coat hanger near the door and continued to show Derrick the house.

"Of course, the first room is the living room. As you see the previous owners left all their furniture and even the old TV. It's all included in the house. Right around the corner is the kitchen. Should have everything you need. The stove and refrigerator are old but still work just the same." Sam continued to showcase the house but Derrick's mind seemed to drift off as he heard a whisper somewhere distant.

"Is everything alright?" Sam asked.

"Sorry, thought I heard something. My imagination gets away with me sometimes." Derrick appeared to shrug it off but in the back of his mind he knew something was off. He couldn't put his finger on it but he did feel a presence there. Oddly enough he did not fear it though, almost as if he longed for the company.

"Shall we continue to tour the house? You're not getting second thoughts are you?" Sam turned to face him.

"With all due respect, I've already paid. Were you not notified?" Derrick asked as he handed Sam the deed to the house.

"I am aware, young man, but as I've already told you people don't seem to stay very long. Shall we go upstairs and see the bedrooms?" Sam made her way to the stairway just before Derrick stopped her.

"It's okay, I'll manage from here," Derrick said, prompting her to turn around.

"Very well Mr. Sullivan. By the way, if you need a ride to town, there is a note next to the phone in the kitchen for the local taxi service. Are you sure you don't need anything else before I leave?" Sam asked, showing slight concern in her voice.

"I'll be fine. Thank you so much," Derek said, shaking her hand at the door.

"Very well, If you change your mind, here's my card. Don't hesitate to give me a ring," Sam handed him a business card just before stepping out of her car. Closing the door behind her, Derrick picked up his bag and climbed the steps. He passed by two smaller bedrooms to his right. He peeked inside them for a few moments, noticing the layout for both were nearly identical, obviously children's rooms with tiny beds and colorful walls. To the left was an average bathroom with a bath and shower combination, accompanied by an old-style toilet with a chain flusher, and a pedestal-style sink. Considering this house was more than one hundred years old, he was impressed by the good condition of what seemed to be the original facilities.

He made his way to the end of the hall and opened the door to the master bedroom. In the center was a king-sized bed with the most comfortable-looking mattress he had seen since he left his quarters at the marine base. He tossed his bag on the bed and opened the nearby chest of drawers to begin putting away his things. Opening the first drawer he raised an eyebrow as he pulled out a red, woman's nightie, and noticed several other intimates in the drawer.

"Strange, they really did leave behind everything," he thought. Opting for going through the drawers later he succumbed to his fatigue and decided to lie down. Looking back toward the bed he saw the corner turned back. He hesitated for a moment but shrugged it off as he stripped down to his underwear. He laid down in bed and quickly drifted off to sleep.

Derrick opened his eyes. After only a moment he was unnerved as he noticed he couldn't move. It was as if everything but his eyes were paralyzed as he looked around. Even though he was in the same room he fell asleep and something felt off. He felt a sudden chill as his eyes glanced toward the window in the room that was now open, and a sense of dread set in as he saw a shadow figure standing there.

"I'm dreaming. I just need to wake myself up somehow," he thought as the figure began to step forward. As it moved he noticed the shadow had a feminine form and what appeared to be short hair blowing in the wind. Entranced, he couldn't look away as it continued to step closer. It wasn't but a blink of an eye and it was gone only for him to look up and notice it on top of him. It began to lean toward him when suddenly everything went dark.

-------

Derrick shot up in bed, heart pounding as he felt the breeze from the open window.

"Maybe it was just a dream," he thought as he slid out of bed. He didn't fear ghosts. After all, he had faced death many times while serving and nearly succumbed to it before being discharged. If anything, his sense of fear in the dream came from his inability to move. It was one of the few times in his life he felt vulnerable.

He decided a shower might be a good idea and made his way into the bathroom.

After stripping down, he looked in the mirror at the scars across his torso.

Each one brought a memory and a feeling, some of pain, others of sorrow.

Turning the shower on, he stepped in and allowed the hot water to relax him.

He couldn't help but wonder who would have lived in the house.

Why did they leave so quickly and what caused the owners to feel uneasy?

After his shower, he went back into the bedroom and got dressed.

He noticed the nightie from the drawer had been moved and was folded neatly on the bed.

"What the..." He reached down to grab it when suddenly a chill went down his spine.

"You're not supposed to be here."

Derrick turned around and his eyes widened.

There stood the same feminine figure from his dream, only this time it was much more vivid.

He couldn't see the details, but he could tell the figure was that of a young girl.

She was wearing a tattered gown and had short black hair.

"Who the hell are you?" Derrick tried to remain calm, but inside he was a little frightened.

"This is my home. You need to leave. ," the girl stated as her body seemed to flicker.

"What are you talking about? This is my house now," Derrick replied.

"NO!" The girl screamed.

"This is my house. I won't leave. You can't make me!" She screamed as she threw a fit.

Derrick tried to reach for her, but her image faded away before he could.

He was shocked, confused, and even a little worried about what just happened.

"Was it really a ghost or did I just imagine it?"

He wasn't sure what to think, but he knew what he saw wasn't something of this world.

"Well, I guess I won't be getting any sleep tonight."

Derrick left the bedroom and went downstairs to the living room.

He grabbed the remote off the TV stand and turned on the set.

There wasn't much on, but he could at least waste some time watching infomercials until morning.

"Maybe I should give Mrs. Granger a call. Maybe she has some insight," he thought.

He sat there for an hour, trying to keep his mind off what just happened.

After a while, he began to feel drowsy, and before he knew it, his eyes had closed.

---------

Derrick opened his eyes.

Once again he was unable to move, but this time it was different.

There was no shadow figure, no open window, just an empty room.

After a moment, the door slowly creaked open, and a familiar figure walked through.

The figure had short hair, the same tattered gown from earlier, and her face was pale.

"Who are you?" Derrick tried to ask.

"It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you leave."

Her voice was low and sounded almost inhuman.

Derrick was frozen, unable to speak or move as the girl walked toward him.

"You can't be here. This is my home, not yours" she said, her voice trembling.

"Please. You need to leave."

Her words were like daggers in his heart.

She sounded so scared, so desperate.

"I don't know who you are, but this is my home now."

Derrick tried to reassure her, but she was having none of it.

"LIAR!" She screamed.

Her anger and pain was almost tangible, and Derrick could feel the heat of her rage.

"Please..." he began to speak, but his words were cut short by a cold touch.

The girl's hands were on his neck, squeezing tightly as her nails dug into his skin.

"You won't drive me out of my own home!" Her voice grew louder and angrier with each word.

"You're just like the others! You come into my home and try to make me leave! You can't have it! It's mine! "She continued to yell and scream, her words cutting deep into his soul.

"I... I'm sorry," was all he could manage to say.

"You're sorry? I don't want your fucking apologies! I want you to leave!" Derrick sighed as he looked in her dark pools for eyes.

"I'm not trying to make you leave. I know someone in the past here must have caused you pain, but I don't have anywhere to go," he struggled to say.

"You... You don't belong here! You don't belong in this house!" The girl seemed to almost sob as her grip grew tighter.

"I guess you're right. I don't really belong anywhere," he looked down.

The girl loosened her grip slightly as she looked at him.

"Please. Just go," she begged.

"I can't," he stated flatly.

"I don't have anywhere to go. I don't have any family, no friends, and I don't know where else I could go," he looked up at her.

"So what is this? Are you going to eventually kill me if I don't leave? If so, get it over with! I'm so fucking done! I came here to end my life anyway!" Derrick screamed as a tear ran down his cheek.

The girl stood there, staring at him for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, she released her grip and stepped back. Her expression changed from one of anger to one of sorrow and eventually vanished from sight.

---------

Derrick opened his eyes, his head resting on the arm of the couch.

"Damn it. Was it all a dream?" He thought.

As he looked up, he felt a small gush of wind.

"Someone there?"

Derrick stared into the darkness for a moment just before a lamp next to him turned on, seemingly on its own.

Startled, he looked to the end table on his right and noticed an ink pen standing on its own on top of a journal.

"Is this real? Are you really here?" He asked, trying to make sense of what was happening.

He watched, dumbfounded, as the pen wrote "Yes".

"Um, okay. Who are you?" He asked.

"Victoria," the pen wrote.

"What happened to you? Why are you here?" Derrick asked.

The pen wrote, "I don't know. I remember dying. I remember being in pain. But then I was here. I don't know why or how."

"Did someone do this to you?"

The pen paused for a moment before writing, "I don't remember. I just remember pain. And fear. So much fear."

Her words cut deep into Derrick's heart, and he could feel her pain.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he said, trying to comfort her.

"Do you want to talk about it? I can listen if you want," he offered.

The pen wrote erratically, "I can't. I'm scared. I'm scared of the memories, of what happened. I can't do it."

Derrick knew how she felt. He'd been there before. He understood the fear of opening old wounds, of letting the past consume you.

"Okay. We don't have to talk about it. You're safe here," he said, trying to ease her fears.

"Thank you," the pen wrote before falling on its side.

Derrick felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

"You're welcome."

------

That morning, as Derrick made breakfast, he couldn't get his mind off the events of the previous night.

"Was it real? Did it really happen?"

He was still trying to process everything.

As he took a sip of coffee, he glanced out the window.

In the garden, he saw a statue in the center of the fountain; it was of a woman that looked sad and alone. It made him think of Victoria and the expression she had before vanishing.

Part of him still wondered if he dreamed all of this as he never believed in ghosts until now, but everything felt too real.

His mind drifted back to the night before.

Even in her fury, and her anger, she was extremely beautiful. She resembled someone in her early twenties. Such a shame for someone to be cut down so early in life.

"I wonder if she'll appear again. Will she even remember our conversation last night, or will she attack me again? Time will tell I guess," he thought as he continued to eat his breakfast.

Derrick was surprised when he heard the doorbell ring.

No one had stopped by in the past few days.

He walked over and opened the door to see Samantha Granger standing on his porch.

"Mrs. Granger! What a surprise. Please come in," he said, welcoming her into the house.

"Sam, please. No need for the formalities," she replied as she entered.

"What brings you here?"

She smiled and placed a basket of food on the kitchen table.

"Well, I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to see how you were doing. I know this place can be a bit...unsettling, to say the least," she said.

"That's an understatement," he laughed.

"Is everything okay?" She asked, noticing his tone.

"Oh, it's fine. It's just been...strange, to say the least."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"How so?"

Derrick sighed, not sure if he should tell her about Victoria.

"I just...feel like this place has a lot of history, a lot of pain. I don't know. I guess I'm just being silly," he said, trying to brush it off.

"Well, you're right about that. This place has seen its share of tragedy. But if you're happy here, that's all that matters. Don't let the past dictate your future," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Derrick smiled, feeling a little better.

"I suppose you're right."

Sam smiled back at him.

"Well, I should be going. Take care of yourself, Derrick," she said as she headed toward the door.

"I will. Thank you," he replied.

--------

Derrick had made plans for the afternoon with a friend of his.

It was a childhood friend of his and they hadn't seen each other in years.

They decided to meet up for drinks at the local bar.

"Hey, it's good to see you," Derrick greeted as he shook his friend's hand.

"Yeah, you too," his friend replied.

"So how have you been?" Derrick asked.

"Oh, you know. Same old, same old," his friend replied, taking a sip of his beer.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Derrick said, smiling.

They sat and talked for a while, catching up on each other's lives.

Derrick told him about the house and his plans for the future.

"Well, it sounds like you're doing pretty good," his friend said.

"Yeah, I guess so. Hey, do you know anything about the house I'm staying at? The caretaker seemed to hint at some history."

"No, can't say I do," his friend replied.

"Well, the caretaker told me the previous owners claimed to have seen a ghost or something. Do you think that's true?" Derrick asked.

His friend shrugged.

"Who knows? This town has always been a bit superstitious," his friend replied.

Derrick laughed.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he replied.

He knew the truth, but the more he thought about it the more worried he became.

Victoria was a lost soul, trapped and hurting.

Part of him wondered if he was the one to save her.

But how?

--------

Later that night Derrick woke in a cold sweat, the memories of his lost comrades filled his dreams as the look of fear in their eyes just before the explosion continued to haunt him. "Why couldn't I save them damn it," he cried out loud. He began to rise out of bed but gasped as he felt a warm body up against his back. Though he didn't see anything, he felt two feminine arms embrace him from behind, clutching their hands against his chest. It was her, Victoria, but her touch this time was warm and soothing. It was as if all his worries and cares drifted away.

"You...you're real aren't you?" He asked as he stared forward.

"Yes, and I'm sorry," came her reply in a whisper.

"Sorry for what?" Derrick turned slightly as he felt a cold tear hit his shoulder.

"I'm sorry for how I acted, for how I treated you. You've done nothing to deserve such animosity from me."

Derrick couldn't believe his ears. Was he hearing a ghost apologize?

"Victoria, it's fine. I understand. You're hurting, aren't you? Something or someone hurt you."

"Yes. They did, but I don't want to talk about it. Can we just lie like this for a while, please? Your warmth, your heartbeat, it's comforting," Victoria responded.

"Of course, for as long as you need," Derrick replied as he felt Victoria pull him in closer.

They laid like this for hours, Victoria clinging to Derrick for comfort and protection.

Derrick had never felt this way before.

For the first time in his life, he felt needed, wanted, and even loved.

He could feel Victoria's sadness and pain, but also her gratitude and affection.

It was a strange and wonderful sensation, and Derrick never wanted it to end. After a few moments of silence, he drifted back off to sleep.

--------

Morning came, and Derrick opened his eyes.

Victoria was gone, but the spot next to him on the bed was still warm.

"It wasn't a dream. She was really here," he thought, smiling.

Derrick got out of bed and made his way downstairs.

As he entered the living room, he saw a folded note on the coffee table.

"What's this?" He thought as he picked up the note.

Unfolding the paper, he saw a simple message:

"Thank you."

"Victoria," he thought as a smile formed on his face.

"Derrick, I'm scared. I'm afraid of what happened to me. I'm afraid of the memories, the pain, and the fear. But you're here, and you make me feel safe. You make the pain go away. You make the memories seem distant. You're my light in the darkness. Thank you."