Fear is not external.  Fear is inside; locked deep within you, waiting to be released. Sometimes we don't even know that it's there. And so it just sits and rots. Waiting.

Janice and Gordon were in good spirits as they left the airport by taxi. The sun was shining and they were looking forward to spending a long weekend in an idyllic beach house. Their friend Simon, who had agreed to meet them at the airport, had owned the house for years but rarely used it.  He was a busy, successful businessman and so they were not entirely surprised when he failed to turn up. They had the keys to the house and a map showing how to find the secluded retreat, so they headed off to begin their blissful break.

Miles from the main road and perched on top of a shallow cliff, the house was isolated and imposing.
The front door opened to reveal large, stylish hallway. It was sparsely decorated and had few items of furniture. The rest of the house was equally minimalist, with stark blank walls where most people would chose to hang a painting and shelves bare except for the odd ornament.

Janice and Gordon explored the house from the attic studio, down the four floors of bedrooms and bathrooms, to the basement store filled with sports equipment.
Although Simon had told them that the house had the latest home cinema equipment, they were unable to find even a TV. And so, once unpacked and changed into their vacation clothes, the couple settled down with a bottle of wine to watch the sunset from the dining room terrace overlooking the ocean. As the light faded, a sea breeze swept through the big house, whistling around the eaves and gently rattling the shutters.
That night, Janice woke with a start.

"Gordon! Wake up! Did you hear that?" she cried, shaking her husband.
"What... what is it?" replied Gordon,
"There's something downstairs. I can hear something...."
Sure enough when they sat up in bed and listened, they could hear a dull, intermittent thud from below them.
Bang. Bang.... Bang.

Gordon reluctantly got out of bed, grabbing a golf club as he set off to investigate. Each floor was empty. The house was silent except for the sound of his heart beating. But as he reached basement he heard the thud again. Bang. Bang.
After a sharp intake of breath, he opened the door and quickly switched on the light. There were bicycles and basketballs and tennis rackets. But nothing else. He returned to bed to reassure his wife that he had found nothing.

The following morning, unnerved by her experience in the night, Janice was on edge. Something didn't seem right. Then, as she poured the coffee for breakfast she was startled by a loud shout. She dropped the coffee pot and turned round to face the door. Gordon came hopping into the kitchen in his bathrobe, clutching his bare foot, which was red with blood. He had trodden on a small shard of glass.
"Gordon! You frightened me! Let me look at that."

While removing the glass and dressing his wound, she admitted to him that she didn't feel comfortable in the house. Gordon dismissed her concerns and urged her to relax and enjoy the vacation. "As soon as I can get through to him, we must thank Simon for letting us stay. I've left a couple of messages on his cellphone. He's been very generous to us."

Janice agreed that they were very lucky and she resolved that they would have a picnic on the beach and enjoy themselves.

But that night once again, while lying in bed, they both heard the noise. Bang. Bang. Bang. Again, Gordon searched for the source and again he was drawn towards the basement. But he found nothing.

Over the following three nights, the couple became more accustomed to the house and although they could still hear the intermittent thud from below, it seemed to be quieter and less intrusive. Of greater concern was Simon's failure to get in contact with them, despite numerous calls to his office and home. He must, they thought, be away on business.

On the day before they were due to fly home, Janice and Gordon decided to be a little more adventurous and cycle up the coast. They went down to the basement and began to prepare a couple of bikes for their day trip. The couple laughed and joked, reminiscing about the days when they first met and would go cycling together in New England. They hadn't been this happy for years.
But their laughter stopped when they heard the noise.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

It was coming from a cupboard.

Gordon gestured to Janice to stay put as he rushed to open the cupboard door.
As Gordon opened the door he dropped to his knees.
It was Simon. Bound, gagged and apparently very badly beaten. His eyes flickered as the bright basement lights punctuated the darkness of the cupboard. He was barely conscious.

They helped him from the cupboard, untied him and called for an ambulance.
Sadly Simon died on the way to the hospital. The doctors estimated that he had sustained his injuries at least a week ago. A subsequent police inquiry found that Simon had been the victim of an aggravated burglary. After disturbing intruders, who had assumed that the house would be empty, he had been beaten up and locked in the cupboard. While Janice and Gordon were enjoying a quiet weekend, their friend was quietly dying beneath them.

by Matthew J Woods