The Soulstice

Chapter 4

THE GIRL IN THE WINDOW

Scarlett had expected the house to be frightening.

That was the point of the assignment, after all.

The address had taken her farther from the familiar streets of Amnes and into a quieter part of the living world, where the roads became narrower and the houses stood farther apart. By the time she arrived, the afternoon had already begun to fade.

She stopped at the edge of the property and stared.

The house was old.

Not abandoned, exactly. There was electricity running through it, and a few curtains hung behind the windows, but everything about the place seemed neglected. The paint had faded into a dull, tired color. Moss had gathered along the lower walls. The small garden in front had been swallowed by weeds, and the gate complained loudly when Scarlett pushed it open.

She winced at the sound.

“Well,” she murmured, looking at the house.

“At least I don't have to try very hard.”

She had said it jokingly.

Still, something about the place made the humor feel misplaced.

The air was unusually still.

There were no voices from neighboring houses. No television playing somewhere in the distance. No barking dogs. Even the wind seemed reluctant to pass through the trees.

Scarlett walked toward the front door.

With every step, the uneasy feeling in her chest grew stronger.

She told herself it was nothing.

She had been assigned to frighten hundreds of people before. She knew how this worked. She knew what fear looked like before it happened—the nervous glances toward dark hallways, the sudden tightening of someone's shoulders, the way people tried to convince themselves that the sound they had heard was only the house settling.

She was good at it.

Or, at least, she had become good at it.

The dead had their own talents.

Scarlett reached for the doorknob.

Her fingers passed straight through it.

“Right.”

She sighed.

Sometimes she still forgot.

She pushed the door instead.

It opened with a long, reluctant creak.

The smell inside was the first thing she noticed.

Dust.

Old wood.

Something faintly sour beneath it.

Scarlett stepped into the house and waited for her eyes to adjust.

The living room was dim despite the afternoon light outside. The curtains were mostly closed, allowing only thin strips of sunlight to slip through. Dust floated lazily in those narrow beams.

A couch sat against one wall.

A small table was covered with unopened mail.

There were clothes folded over the arm of a chair.

A glass had been left on the floor.

The house wasn't empty.

It was simply...

untended.

Scarlett walked farther inside.

She heard something.

A chair scraping against the floor.

She immediately turned.

Nothing.

Then she noticed the sound again.

A faint rustling.

She followed it toward the kitchen.

There was no one there.

Scarlett frowned.

She looked around.

A refrigerator hummed quietly in the corner. A half-empty bag of bread sat on the counter. Several dishes had been left in the sink.

She glanced toward the hallway.

“Hello?”

Silence.

Scarlett smiled to herself.

“Okay. That's a little creepy.”

She continued down the hallway.

The floorboards creaked beneath her even though her feet barely touched them.

At the end of the hall was a bedroom.

The door was open.

Scarlett peered inside.

Empty.

Another bedroom.

Empty.

Bathroom.

Empty.

She was beginning to wonder if the person assigned to her had gone out when she heard movement from the living room.

She returned.

And stopped.

Someone was sitting by the window.

A girl.

Scarlett remained in the doorway.

The girl sat on a plain monoblock chair with one knee drawn slightly toward her chest. Her hair fell loosely around her face, partially hiding it from view. She wore an oversized shirt and old shorts, and her bare feet rested against the floor.

She wasn't watching television.

She wasn't using her phone.

She wasn't doing anything.

She was simply looking outside.

The window beside her was wide open.

Scarlett glanced at the rest of the room.

The curtains were closed everywhere else.

Only this one window had been left open.

The girl seemed completely absorbed in whatever she was looking at beyond it.

Scarlett checked the assignment card again.

Ash Desiree Solidum.

It was her.

Scarlett had expected someone younger.

Or maybe someone who would at least look frightened by the atmosphere of the house.

Instead, Ash looked exhausted.

Not sleepy.

Exhausted.

There was a difference.

Sleepiness belonged to the body.

Exhaustion seemed to live somewhere deeper.

Scarlett watched her for several seconds.

Then she remembered her job.

She cleared her throat.

Nothing.

Ash didn't react.

Scarlett frowned.

She moved closer.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

Scarlett waved a hand in front of Ash's face.

The girl blinked.

But not because of Scarlett.

Her eyes remained fixed on the window.

Scarlett slowly lowered her hand.

“Okay.”

She looked toward the ceiling.

“This is going to be one of those assignments.”

She decided to start simple.

The lights went out.

Ash didn't move.

Scarlett waited.

A few seconds passed.

Then the lights flickered back on.

Still nothing.

Scarlett stared at her.

“Seriously?”

Ash reached toward the table beside her and picked up a bag of chips.

She opened it.

Scarlett watched her eat.

The silence became almost insulting.

“Fine.”

Scarlett floated behind her.

She leaned close to Ash's ear.

Then whispered.

“I'm behind you.”

Ash continued eating.

Scarlett pulled back.

She stared.

“Did you hear me?”

Ash took another chip.

Scarlett felt something dangerously close to embarrassment.

She had terrified people into screaming before.

One man had actually thrown himself out of his own bedroom because Scarlett had appeared beneath his bed.

And this girl couldn't even be bothered to turn around.

Scarlett crossed her arms.

Maybe the problem was that she was trying too hard.

She disappeared into the hallway.

A moment later, the sound of footsteps echoed through the house.

Slow.

Heavy.

Deliberate.

Scarlett dragged her fingers along the wall as she walked, letting them scrape against the wood.

She returned to the living room.

Ash was still sitting there.

Still eating.

Still staring outside.

Scarlett stopped.

She felt an unfamiliar irritation rising inside her.

“Are you kidding me?”

Ash finally looked up.

Scarlett froze.

Their eyes met.

For one strange second, neither of them moved.

Ash's expression didn't change.

There was no fear.

No confusion.

No startled gasp.

She simply looked at Scarlett as though she had been expecting her.

Scarlett's annoyance disappeared.

Something colder replaced it.

She glanced behind herself.

There was nobody there.

Then she looked back at Ash.

“You can see me.”

Ash chewed slowly.

Scarlett waited.

The girl swallowed.

“Yes.”

Scarlett stared.

That was it.

Just yes.

No screaming.

No questions.

No running.

Scarlett couldn't decide whether she was offended or impressed.

“You're not scared?”

Ash shrugged.

“I've seen worse.”

Scarlett's mouth fell open slightly.

“Worse than me?”

“Yes.”

“That is incredibly rude.”

For the first time, something resembling amusement appeared in Ash's eyes.

It was small.

Barely there.

But Scarlett saw it.

And for some reason, that tiny almost-smile made the room feel less empty.

Scarlett pulled the chair opposite her and sat down.

The chair made a soft scraping sound against the floor.

Ash looked at it.

Then at Scarlett.

“You're not going to scare me?”

“I was.”

“Were?”

“I've changed my mind.”

“Why?”

Scarlett looked around the house.

The dirty dishes.

The closed curtains.

The piles of things left untouched.

The silence.

Then she looked back at Ash.

“I don't think I can do better than this place.”

Ash's lips twitched.

“You're not wrong.”

Scarlett leaned back.

For the first time since arriving, she actually looked at the girl instead of treating her like an assignment.

There were dark circles beneath Ash's eyes.

Her hair looked as though she hadn't bothered brushing it properly.

There was a small bruise near her wrist.

Scarlett's gaze lingered for a moment before she deliberately looked away.

She didn't know this girl.

She had no right to stare.

Still, something about Ash's loneliness felt familiar.

Not familiar like a memory.

Something deeper.

Like recognizing a feeling you had spent too long trying to forget.

“What do you usually do?” Scarlett asked.

Ash looked toward the window.

“Nothing.”

“That can't be true.”

“It is.”

“You just sit here?”

“Sometimes.”

“And the rest of the time?”

“I eat.”

Scarlett blinked.

“That's it?”

“And sleep.”

Scarlett looked around again.

The house suddenly seemed even quieter.

“How long have you been here?”

Ash didn't answer immediately.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the empty chip bag.

“Long enough.”

The answer was so quiet that Scarlett almost missed it.

She looked at her.

There was something behind those words.

Something Scarlett didn't understand.

So she didn't ask.

Instead, she turned toward the open window.

Outside, the sky was beginning to darken.

The last light of afternoon rested weakly over the rooftops.

Scarlett had come here expecting to find someone she could frighten.

Someone whose fear would become her assignment, whose soul would give Amnes another fragment, and whose life she would forget the moment she walked away.

Instead, she had found a girl sitting alone in a dark house, staring at a world she didn't seem particularly interested in being part of.

And Scarlett couldn't explain why, but she didn't want to leave.

Not yet.

Ash looked at her.

“You're going to keep coming back, aren't you?”

Scarlett frowned.

“Probably.”

“Why?”

Scarlett opened her mouth.

No answer came.

She glanced toward the window.

Then back at Ash.

“I don't know.”

Ash nodded as though that was enough.

Scarlett stayed until the sun disappeared.

Neither of them said much after that.

But for the first time in a very long time, the silence didn't feel empty.