The House at the End of the Street

As the sun went down, the town closed. Mothers called their children in from playing while stores locked their doors. Customers made last minute purchases before hurrying home themselves. A stranger walking through town would notice that people averted their eyes, only glancing up to check how low the sun was.

As the sun disappeared behind the horizon, doors slammed shut and locks clicked. The street lights had clicked on, but they barely penetrated the dark of the night. A silence blanketed the town.

When the sun rose the next morning, windows were thrown open and doors unlocked. As if they had never run from the dark, people walked openly, going about their lives.

The house down the street went up for sale one day and the neighbors were abuzz with gossip over who might purchase it. They speculated that the Andersons might move, they’d been talking about a bigger house since Mrs. Anderson was expecting their fourth child.

But it wasn’t them who purchased the house, it was a family of three who were new to the town. The neighbors watched as they moved into the house, the movers carefully making sure they were finished and on their way before dark fell.

Closed curtains twitched as the neighbors watched the little girl playing on the lawn. A door cracked open, but quickly closed again without anyone stepping outside.

The female of the family, the wife and mother, stepped out onto the porch. Dressed in a swishy skirt with an apron overtop, she was rubbing her hands on a towel. Her mouth moved, although none of the neighbors could hear what she said, and the little girl turned to look at her.

A moment later, there was nothing left of them but two piles of dust and a bouncing ball.

Any curtains that were open quickly closed and locks were checked, sighs of relief from every house when they realized they were safely locked behind their doors.

* * * * * * * *

The next morning found the husband and father on the porch, staring down at the dust, the kitchen towel softly laying atop. He looked up as one of the neighbors approached. “I’m sorry for your loss,” the woman said when she was within hearing range. “May their memories be a blessing.”

“But what…” The man looked down at the pile again. “Where did they go?”

“The Darkness has taken them,” she replied. Gesturing at the piles of dust, she added, “That is all that is left. Soon even your memories will fade and it will be as if they never existed.”

“How do you know?” he asked. “If you forget… how do you know that is what happens?”

She pointed at what had once been a church. “It is written.”

He turned, staring at the church before turning to close the door behind him. The woman watched as he pocketed a set of keys and began walking towards the church.

When he reached the building, he was breathing heavily as sweat dripped down his face. He hadn’t realized it was so hot out when he left the house to walk here, but he had made it. And he could only hope it was open.

Pushing against the door, he breathed a sigh of relief when it opened easily at his touch. Stepping inside, he looked around, unsure of where he needed to go.

A man dressed in black with a white collar approached him. “How may I help you, my son?”

“I was told that there is a book that explains the Darkness,” the grieving father said. “Is there any way I can read it?”

“Of course. Anyone who wishes may read the book. And, if the Darkness has taken your loved ones, we can add them to the book. Their memories should not perish with them.”

He took a deep breath and nodded so the priest said, “Follow me. We will record anything you care to share about your loved ones.”

“I want to banish the Darkness,” the man said. “No one else should have to suffer.”

For a moment the priest stared at him. “Many have tried. Maybe you will be the one that succeeds.”