Inkwell

Kala, Samuel, Zia, Ben, and Noah moved into their new home. The place was tidy, with freshly painted walls.

“Damn, the original owner really likes things clean,” Kala exclaimed.

“Or they’re just trying to impress us,” Samuel muttered back without even glancing her way.

“Shut it, Sammy,” Ben interjected.

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?!” Samuel snapped back.

The two of them started bickering, voices rising as Kala, Zia, and Noah exchanged glances, clearly unimpressed. As they unpacked, Zia pulled out an ink bottle she thought Samuel had tossed.

“Sammy!” Zia shouted, her face tightening in frustration. “Why do you still have this?”

“First off, don’t call me Sammy! Second—” He snatched the bottle from her. “This is mine!”

“Samuel, what’s gotten into you? You’re not usually like this,” Kala said, using his preferred name.

Zia was still stunned by his reaction, her eyes following Samuel as he stormed upstairs and disappeared into a room on the left.

“What was that about?” Noah asked, breaking the silence.

“No idea,” Ben replied, shrugging.

As the day wore on, they finished unpacking, with each of them claiming a room. Since Samuel had holed up in that room all afternoon, it was pretty much his by default.

“Finally, we’re done,” Kala sighed.

“It would’ve gone faster if grouchy over there had helped!” Noah yelled pointedly toward Samuel’s room.

“Hey!” Samuel shouted back, his door slamming shut with enough force to rattle the walls. Kala’s eyes widened, and Noah stopped chuckling.

“Well, someone’s mad,” Ben murmured.

Moments later, Samuel stormed into Noah’s room, holding a box.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Noah yelled, darting after him. As Samuel exited the room, Noah accidentally barreled into him, and they both crashed to the floor with a loud thud. Kala rushed over, only to trip and land face-first beside them. Samuel sat up, trying not to laugh, while Noah sprawled out as if lifeless. Kala glared up at Samuel as she scrambled to her feet.

“What is with you lately…” she muttered under her breath.

“I’m not deaf, you know,” Samuel said, standing up. “I can hear you just fine.”

“Well, that’s rude,” Kala shot back, her gaze darkening.

Samuel dusted himself off, a frown creasing his brow as he brushed away the dust clinging to his clothes.

“Damn dust… I don’t want people’s dead skin cells on me,” he muttered to himself, glancing around the room before adding on, “I’m heading out.”

“Where are you going?” Kala asked, arms crossed and clearly unimpressed.

“None of your business,” Samuel replied, making for the front door.

“Weirdo,” piped up a random kid in the house, who looked about twelve. He was perched on the arm of the couch, swinging his legs and grinning.

Samuel paused, turning back to glare at him.

“Who are you supposed to be?”

“I’m Ben’s little brother Jamie,” the kid said with a air of confidence.

“Great,” Samuel replied, sarcasm dripping from his words. “Just what I need — a little tag along.”

“Can I come?” Jamie asked, eyes bright with excitement.

Samuel’s expression soured. “Absolutely not. I don’t want you following me around.”

“Why not?” Jamie pressed, undeterred. “It could be fun!”

“No,” Samuel said flatly, opening the door. “You’re annoying; go back to playing with your toys or whatever kids do these days.”

As he stepped outside, the door swung shut behind him, leaving the faint sounds of the others in the house behind.

Kala watched him leave, shaking her head. “He’s really something,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, a total grouch,” Ben chimed in. He was sorting through a pile of boxes, trying to find a place for everything. “He needs to lighten up.”

“I wonder what’s really going on with him… He seemed fine before we moved in. Now he’s just… different,” Zia chips in.

“Different how?” Kala asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like he’s hiding something,” Zia replied, her gaze drifting toward the door Samuel had just exited. “That ink bottle… it feels like it means something to him, like it’s more than just a decoration.”

Noah, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. “Maybe he’s just stressed. Moving can be tough, especially for someone like him.”

“Or maybe he’s just a jerk,” Ben said with a smirk, tossing a crumpled piece of paper into a box. “I mean, come on, who hates kids that much?”

“He’s not a total jerk,” Kala countered. “He just… doesn’t know how to deal with change. And maybe he just hates being called Sammy. But that’s weird because he always got mad at us when we called him Samuel… So what changed?”

“Maybe he’s trying to reinvent himself,” Zia suggested thoughtfully. “Sometimes, people act different when they want a fresh start. But… it does seem like something more than that.”

“Or maybe he’s just stressed out,” Noah added. “Moving can make people act weird. Especially someone as, uh, intense as Samuel.”

Kala rolled her eyes. “Well, whatever it is, he’s not making it easier on the rest of us.”

Suddenly, there was a thump from upstairs, followed by the creak of floorboards. The group fell silent, looking up toward the sound.

“Is Samuel back already?” Ben whispered.

“I don’t think so,” Kala replied. “He walked outside a minute ago.”

They exchanged uncertain glances. Finally, Zia spoke up. “I’ll go check it out.”

“Not alone,” Noah insisted. “I’ll come with you.”

As they tiptoed up the stairs, the floorboards creaked underfoot, echoing in the silence. Zia and Noah reached the landing and looked down the hallway. At the end of it, Samuel’s door was slightly ajar.

“That’s strange,” Zia muttered. “I’m pretty sure he slammed it shut before he left.”

Noah swallowed, peering down the hall. “Maybe the latch is loose or something?”

They slowly approached the door. Zia gave Noah a nod before she gently pushed it open. Inside, the room was empty, just as Samuel had left it — except for one thing. The ink bottle lay on its side on the desk, the cap unscrewed, a dark stain spreading across the surface.

“That’s… odd,” Zia whispered, stepping forward.

As she picked up the bottle, something flickered at the edge of her vision — a shadow darting across the wall opposite her. She spun around, her heart racing. Noah saw it too, and his hand gripped her arm instinctively.

“Did you see that?” she whispered.

“Yeah… it looked like a shadow,” Noah replied, his voice low.

Zia set the bottle down and scanned the room. “Maybe it was just a trick of the light…”

But as she said this, the ink on the desk began to move, forming strange, jagged shapes — almost like letters. They both froze, watching in shock as the ink pooled and twisted.

“Are… are you seeing this?” Noah whispered, barely daring to breathe.

The ink twisted and curled, spelling out a single word: LEAVE.

Zia took a step back, eyes wide. “What… what does that mean?”

Before Noah could answer, a loud bang echoed from downstairs, followed by a series of hurried footsteps. Kala, Ben, and Jamie came rushing up the stairs, eyes wide with fear.

“Did you hear that?” Kala gasped, her eyes darting between Zia and Noah.

Noah nodded, his voice shaky. “We saw… something. The ink on Samuel’s desk… it spelled out ‘leave.’”

The others stared at him, stunned.

Ben scoffed, trying to mask his own fear. “Okay, real funny. Did Samuel set this up to mess with us?”

“No one’s messing with us, Ben,” Zia said, her voice unsteady. “Whatever’s going on here… it’s not normal.”

Just then, the door downstairs creaked open. Footsteps echoed through the house — heavy, deliberate.

Samuel’s voice called out, “Hey! Who’s messing around up there?”

They all exchanged glances, suddenly filled with a mix of relief and dread.

Kala took a deep breath. “Let’s go see if he knows anything. If anyone has answers, it’s him.”

As they moved back downstairs to confront Samuel, a chill filled the house, as if something was watching them, waiting. And in the back of her mind, Zia couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.