Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [10]
“I would have guessed it was longer than that,” I said, kicking away a pile of cigarette butts. “I’m surprised they left it here. It’s sort of a blemish on the beautiful grounds, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, but it works out lucky for us.”
“Okay, so what’s your plan to get inside?”
Cherie’s mouth turned up into a grin. “I just figured it out.” She hurried past me to the opposite side of the building.
I turned and followed her toward a tall tree that came within inches of a second story window.
I nodded in appreciation. “Great plan.”
Since elementary school, I had loved climbing trees, monkey bars, or anything else, and I prided myself with the fact I was good at it too. Cherie had found many uses for my ability over the years.
I was almost disappointed that the tree was such an easy climb thanks to all of the thick branches along the trunk. It only took a minute to climb my way up to the second floor, and as I peeked through the leafy covering, I knew that Cherie wasn’t the first one to think of using the tree to get inside. Unlike the window below us, this one was cleaned of any shards of glass.
Cherie stretched from the limb to the window, then made her way carefully inside. Broken glass crunched beneath her feet as she landed and started walking around.
I tried to avoid stepping on glass as I climbed in, but it was impossible; it was everywhere. The floor was absolutely disgusting, littered just like the ground outside, with old magazines, pizza boxes, aluminum cans, and cigarette butts.
The corners of Cherie’s mouth sagged as she led the way toward the pool, the passage growing continually darker. Upon entering the pool room, I was surprised to find the light just as dim. Even though there were plenty of windows, they were covered in a layer of grime that didn’t let in much light. The thick, tile-covered walls seemed impervious to the morning sun; the room felt positively freezing. Shivering, I rubbed my arms with my hands, trying to warm myself. Goosebumps surfaced along my skin.
I turned to look at Cherie who was standing with her arms stretched out in the air, head held triumphant, taking it all in. Then she turned and with a slight bow to me, her hands together in praying position, she said, “And that is how it is done, Grasshopper.”
I laughed at her excitement as I studied the room. We stood on the mezzanine level overlooking the room. Stairs led down to the head of the pool, where a dangerous-looking diving board still stood, protruding out over the empty basin of tiled cement.
“Why haven’t they restored it?” I asked, more curious than I wanted to admit.
“Not sure,” Cherie admitted, happy to see my interest piqued. “I think they were scared,” Cherie said as her voice dramatically dropped to a foreboding whisper.
I scratched my head. “Scared?”
“Of the place being cursed or haunted.”
“Oh.”
The musty air felt so palpable I could almost taste it. I worked my tongue across the roof of my mouth as if trying to get the moldy tang off my taste buds. I took a cleansing breath, only to find the air thick, old, and unsatisfying to my lungs, my inhalation ending in a dry cough.
Whatever history this room had, it made my skin crawl. It wasn’t just the poor lighting, dusty air and debris-littered floor. Something horrible had happened here, and had left its residue behind. It seemed to rise from the bottom of the tiled pool and leak from the ceiling, clinging to the walls and binding itself like some parasite into any host it could ensnare. I imagined its cold fingers rooting inside me, spreading throughout, and leaving traces of itself embedded in my soul.
Unconsciously, I dusted myself off in an attempt to loosen the imaginary grip as I walked carefully down the stairs to the main floor. Cherie had already made her way down and was now walking around the old-fashioned pool chairs and touching the once white tiles on the wall.
“Amazing,” she muttered as she pulled her hand back and looked at it. I stretched my hand out and touched the wall, too, to see what was so amazing.