The Ones Who Came Back from the Mountain Chapter 2

He took another step forward, his presence filling the cramped entryway. I hadn’t noticed it before, but his skin had a sickly, grayish pallor, like meat that had been left in a freezer for days.

My back was pressed hard against the door; there was nowhere left to run.

I frantically mashed the power button, the screen going dark, and forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. “It was just Grandma and Grandpa. Asking if I’d heard anything. I was just letting them know you were safe.”

Leo paused, then nodded slowly. A flicker of something like sadness crossed his face.

“Ah. It’s a shame about Sherry. She was so fragile… she didn’t make it until the rescue team arrived. You should probably break the news to them gently.”

He sighed. “Oh, right. I should call the rescue team, let them know we’re okay. I lost my phone on the mountain. Let me borrow yours.”

Before I could react, he snatched my phone and held it up to my face to unlock it with facial recognition.

Panic flared in my chest and I lunged for it, a purely instinctual reaction.

Leo seemed startled by my sudden movement and lost his footing. He crashed to the floor with a heavy thud. The phone flew from his hand, hit the wall, and shattered into a spiderweb of glass and plastic.

“Nora, are you okay?” he said, scrambling to his feet. In a complete break from character, he didn't scold me. Instead, he anxiously checked to see if I was hurt. “I’m so sorry. I’ll buy you the newest iPhone in a few days, I promise.”

A lump formed in my throat.

A crazy thought sparked in my mind: if they could always be this kind to me, did it really matter if they were human or not?

“I’m fine, Leo. It’s just too dark in here. Let me get the lights.”

Taking a deep breath, I reached for the light switch. A common saying echoed in my mind: ghosts have no shadows. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that this was all just my terrified imagination running wild.

Click.

The chandelier blazed to life, bathing the opulent living room in brilliant white light.

And behind all three of them, faint but distinct shadows stretched across the floor.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

My mother warmed a pot of milk for my father and Leo, but poured a glass of juice for me.

“For your lactose intolerance,” she said with a soft smile. “You can have this.”

I took the glass, stunned. It was cherry juice, my favorite. This was the same woman who used to call my condition a “poor person’s disease” and force me to drink milk until I was sick, insisting I had to “get used to it.”

“Nora,” my father said, his voice heavy, a trace of guilt on his stern face. “Sherry’s master bedroom… you should move in there.”

Leo looked at me with an apologetic expression and gently ruffled my hair. “And make sure you lock your doors and windows. Especially on the ground floor.”

I lowered my head, taking small sips of the juice. The sweetness spread from my mouth to my heart, and for a moment, I didn’t want to think about Sherry’s messages at all.

Leo was still talking. “Especially tonight. Don’t open the door for anyone. Especially not for Sherry.”

“Who?” I asked, sure I had misheard.

At that exact moment, the chandelier flickered violently.

And then went out.

In the suffocating darkness, I could feel three wooden faces turn toward me.

Three voices spoke in unison.

“Don’t let Sherry in.”