House of Dark Shadows Read Online Free PDF

corrected that misconception. Cobwebs clung to the corners where the walls and ceiling met. Dust coated the floors, showing where his family had walked as clearly as if they had traipsed over the smooth beach sand. Wallpaper curled off the walls like peels from a banana. Several banister spindles were broken or missing. Grime lined the fancy carvings in the wood on the banister, around the doors, the doors themselves. Gaps wide enough to stick a finger into had formed between several planks in the hardwood floor.
    â€œXander!” Dad called from the kitchen. He beckoned to him. “Come on! Check this out!”
    He stepped fully into the house. The air inside was cool on his skin. He turned, expecting the front door to close on its own. But it stayed open, as it was supposed to. He shook his head, chiding himself for letting an old house spook him.
    He walked toward the kitchen.
    Behind him, the front door slammed shut.

CHAPTER

eight
    SUNDAY, NOON
    Xander spun around to stare at the door. It had closed on its own.
    And only after all of us had come in, he thought.
    From the kitchen behind him, his dad said, “Isn’t this incredible?”
    â€œDid you see that?” Xander asked, pointing at the door, but when he stepped into the kitchen, it was empty.
    â€œWhatta ya think?” Dad asked.
    Xander turned around to see his father coming toward him from the direction of the front door. His mouth went dry. “Weren’t you just in the kitchen?”
    â€œI was. I walked around. You okay?”
    â€œNo, I mean . . . yes, but . . .”
    His dad tilted his head. “Xander?”
    â€œThere’s something going on.” He was looking past his father to the front door.
    â€œGoing on?” Dad asked.
    â€œSomething strange. First I heard you in the kitchen, and uh . . .” Xander’s head was swimming. “Then the front door slammed . . . by itself.”
    â€œIt’s an old house,” his father explained. “Hinges start to sag and that causes doors to close on their own. Have you seen the round room, the one in the tower?”
    Xander shook his head.
    Mom’s voice called down from upstairs. Xander would have sworn she was in the kitchen a few seconds ago as well.
    â€œDad,” Xander said. “Doesn’t something about this place seem weird to you?”
    â€œYou mean the stuff, the dishes? Whoever lived here before did a poor job packing up, huh?”
    â€œNo, I mean really weird.”
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œLike . . .” Xander didn’t know where to start. There was the door shutting after he’d thought about it doing that very thing. His father had chalked it up to sagging hinges. But what about hearing Dad in the kitchen when he was somewhere else? And the chill he’d gotten outside, when he felt as though he was being watched?
    â€œEd,” Mom called again.
    â€œHold on a sec,” his father told Xander, holding up his index finger. He went into the foyer and started up the stairs.
    Xander went to the front door and squinted at the hinges. They were dirty and rusty, but otherwise looked fine. The house creaked around Xander. He thought of the way dogs sometimes whimpered when you gave them special attention. He wondered if the house creaked all the time, maybe from constant settling or from the wind buffeting against it . . . or if it was responding to his family’s presence. Voices and footsteps streamed at him from the corridors and upper landing. He could identify each voice, but not the direction from which it came. He heard David in the kitchen again, but didn’t see anyone in there. Movement caught his eye, and he looked up to the second floor landing. A hallway disappeared to the left and right. Two doors were visible. One was open, and he saw David standing in the threshold, his familiar silhouette backlit by sunlight coming through a window behind him.
    â€œDavid!” he