Sckkkkkk… There is was again, that damn scratching coming from somewhere within my old Victorian home. This one was soft that time. The noise long, winded. Almost as if it was tired, as tired and as old as the wood flooring. I don’t blame it frankly, it’s been nonstop these last few months; even with myself and my wife in and out of the house, with dozens of people coming and going. The noises never stopped. Dusk til dawn, this house was screaming, but never singing. The noises were always bitter, never sweet or gentle - and I couldn’t help but shake the feeling it was speaking to me, telling me something.

Warning me.

I left my office, it was nearly midnight; I’d been hiding out long enough. It was time to get back to reality. Back to my wife, who was somewhere in this home; this too large home. I wasn’t but a few steps into the hallways when I heard a creak, and once again, the door to the spare room where our stuff was stored was cracked. I went to close it, but noticed a frame; cracked and broken laying in the gap preventing the door from closing.

I picked it up, and in that moment; my breath caught. I could feel my palms get clammy, the photo beginning to slip…the photo that contained two teenagers - both of whom looked like Jenny. Looked like my wife. Is my wife.

But it wasn’t my wife. She was pretty. Blonde hair, curled to the ends. Grey eyes that sparkled like the moon. A smirk, with the right side curled slightly higher than the left.

The girl on the right, however, was almost unidentifiable. Her face was scratched out, the eyes scratched out; the nose was replaced with a hole. And the mouth, the tiniest and whitest smile the woman could muster; was covered but a giant black”X”, that was thick and scribbled all over. I knew those features, I knew that face…

That’s the woman I fell in love with.

“Leif?” I heard her voice ask, it was sharp, stinging. I turned around, and saw that crooked smirk first. Uneven. Unsettling.

This wasn’t my wife.