Mallory pulled her car into the dirt lane, slowing to a stop as the dilapidated building crept into view from behind the trees that hid it from the main road. She hadn’t planned to come out here today, but when her best friend had hopped into her vehicle after school and enthusiastically shouted, “Taxi, follow that car!” she had whimsically decided to indulge. After all, she didn’t have anything better to do tonight than go home, and she really didn’t want to do that. Home just didn’t feel like home anymore, and some mild stalking seemed like a fun way to avoid it.
The car in question was old. Very old. Mallory didn’t know enough about cars to identify makes and models, but the metal body was rimmed with rust with only the faintest hints of faded teal paint remaining. The thing had to have been put together in the 50s and likely didn’t adhere to any sort of safety or environmental standards. In fact, Mallory was shocked it was even running. But Eliza wasn’t focused on the car – instead, she was obsessed with the occupants.
Or more specifically, one particular occupant. Isaac.
Since the very first day of their senior year, Eliza had talked non-stop about Isaac. He was new to school. He was in most of her classes. He was tall and mysterious, with a commanding voice and presence. He was dangerously handsome and practically perfect. Or at least that was the case according to Eliza. Mallory hadn’t caught more than the occasional distant glimpse of Isaac.
They had followed the vehicle at a reasonable distance, attempting to keep other vehicles in between where they could manage and drifting back farther as it drove out of town. And then the car had pulled down the dirt road leading to the Miller house.
Mallory came to a stop at the end of the lane. They watched the vehicle turn out of sight behind the trees, and waited as the dust settled. “I wonder what they’re doing here?” Eliza said absently. Mallory eased her foot off the brakes and allowed her car to inch forward.
Eliza glanced at her, her eyebrows climbing toward her hairline. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice jumping up in pitch the way it always did when she panicked.
Mallory grinned at her old friend. “Come on, we’ve come this far. Let’s go say hi.”
“Mallory! Mallory, no!” Eliza was shaking her head emphatically as the other car came into view. There was no one in sight. They both stared up at the wreck of a house.
The Miller house was supposedly named after a family that had been murdered there in the past, causing the home to become abandoned for years. No matter how much searching Mallory did, she couldn’t find any actual records or articles about a family named Miller having lived in the house or of anyone having been murdered there. And she suspected that the many other stories surrounding the place were also merely rumors. She at least knew for a fact that the story of the man-eating goat monster was definitely false, as she had spread that particular story herself. Still, looking at the house as it sat in the shadows of the surrounding trees sent a chill down her spine, and she didn’t consider herself easily scared. The entire area seemed like a cold, dark spot that stood out all the more against the bright, sunny September day.