What Resides in the House

Everything is silent until my one-year-old miniature poodle, Mach, starts barking. But this bark isn’t his usual high-pitched and happy one. This one is loud, quick, and irritating. The type of bark that means something is wrong. I sigh and push my chair back from my desk. Mach only barks like this for two reasons. Either he needs to go outside, or the mailman is nearby. Since the mailman came by already, it’s got to be reason number one. I’d better let him out before he pees on the carpet again.

I rush out of my office and head to the front door, but Mach isn’t there. The noise is coming from the living room. Weird. Ever since the move, Mach has never gone there. I head over to the living room and find Mach standing on the other side of the room. He’s barking at a white wooden door, the storage closet.

“Mach? What in blazes are you doing?”

Mach jumps at my voice and turns around. The moment he sees me, the menacing look dissolves into pure joy. He runs over to me, his tongue hanging and tail wagging. He paws at my leg, wanting me to pick him up and play with him. Instead, I look around the room. Everything seems fine. Mach whimpers and continues pawing at my leg. I sigh and roll my eyes, trying to keep from smiling.

“Alright, fine. I’ll play with you for a few minutes. Only for a few minutes.”

Mach barks and does his little happy dance. The one where he spins around and rolls over. I bend down to scratch his fluffy brown stomach. Usually, I’d take him outside and play his favorite game, Catch and Return. Basically, I’d toss his favorite tennis ball across the sand, then he’d fetch it and bring it back. But his tennis ball went missing three days ago, and we haven’t been able to find it.

Suddenly, I hear a loud thump from the closet. Mach snarls as he scrambles away from the floor and runs to the door. Perhaps there is something in there. I walk to the door and press my ear against the wood. But I can’t hear anything over the noise.

“Mach, quiet now!”

Mach instantly stops barking. His brain may be tiny, but Mach is not a fool. He knows when I mean business. I smile and press my ear to the door again. But I still can’t hear anything. Puzzled, I grasp the handle and prepare to open it.

Wait, what if it’s a rat? Then again, do rats live in beach houses? Maybe but I should arm myself just in case. I run to the kitchen and grab the broom I keep next to the fridge. It’s light but sturdy enough to smash something small. I return to the door and open it, bracing myself should something run out. Nothing does. Instead, Mach runs inside the closet and starts sniffing the boxes inside. Things I’ve been meaning to unpack since I moved here a month ago.

None of the boxes look like they’ve been messed with, and I don’t see any bugs or rat droppings. Nothing has been knocked over either. I leave the broom by the wall and pick up one of the boxes. If something is in there, best to move the stuff out of the way. Mach stands off to the side and watches me carry boxes out of the closet. Once it’s clear, he runs inside and starts sniffing around again. I examine the closet, but I don’t see anything unusual. I clean my glasses, put them on, and look again. Still nothing. Either Mach is playing a new game, or he’s losing his marbles.

Then again, he has been acting weird ever since we moved here. He’s been staring at walls, barking at night, and growling at the windows. I thought he was adjusting to the new house. Until things got worse.

Whenever I tried to work in my office, he’d start barking for no reason and wouldn’t stop until I kicked him out. Whenever I went to the bathroom, he’d follow me, jump on the sink, and growl at the mirror. I’ve tried talking to Mach and giving him treats, but nothing works. And I think he’s taking socks from the laundry room. I’m missing five socks, and I have no idea where they could be. I haven’t taken Mach to the vet because check-ups are expensive. But perhaps it’s time to reconsider.

“If only I knew where your ball was. Maybe you’d stop acting like this if you had it back.”

I walk over to the pile and pick up a random box. Suddenly Mach starts barking like mad. He startles me, and the box slips out of my hands. I hear glass breaking as it hits the floor. Great.

“Mach! Stop the noise already! The closet is empty!”

Mach ignores me and keeps barking. I groan and pick up the box, hoping that whatever broke wasn’t very valuable. I set the box down to the side and wince as Mach’s barking gets louder. I look up, expecting to see Mach barking at nothing. Instead, I see him jumping at an arm hanging from the closet ceiling. What the-!

“Mach!”

I grab Mach and run to the other side of the living room. Mach growls, but I keep a tight hold on him. I don’t want him anywhere near that – thing.

The arm is slender, pale, and translucent. I can see thin blue lines pulsing beneath the skin. Veins perhaps? Five long fingers dangle from the hand, a white claw adorning each digit. It looks like a right hand. But where did it come from?

“Fluffy.”

I freeze and look around. Did I hear a female voice just now? I look back at the closet, and my throat turns dry. The hand is moving.

“Fluffy Puppy is so fluffy.”

Yep, the hand is definitely talking. I take another step back. If it’s talking, there’s a good chance it has a mouth somewhere. Probably one full of razor-sharp teeth. I see the broom lying next to the closet door. It’d be the perfect defense weapon if it wasn’t lying 18 feet away from me.

“Fluffy Puppy. So so fluffy.”

Then, like some fleshy rope, the arm stretches towards the ground. The hand rises and faces my direction. Two bulges push out from the center of the hand, revealing two brown eyes without pupils or irises. A mouth opens underneath the eyes. Full of red sharp-looking teeth.

Why did I have to be right?

The hand sways back and forth like a cobra in the desert. It opens its mouth, and a soft female voice emerges.

“Fluffy Puppy. Can I hold him?”

Is it talking about Mach? I look down and see Mach staring at the hand with wide eyes. He is silent, and I can feel his body trembling. The only time I ever see Mach this terrified is when I take him to the vet. I scratch the spot behind his ear, trying to calm him down. He responds by peeing on my shirt.

“Fluffy Puppy. So tiny.”

Suddenly the hand rises up and slithers towards us, the arm bending and stretching behind it. Mach pees himself. Again.

My brain screams at me to run, and my heart pounds inside my chest like a heavy drum. I suddenly recall a moment in a horror movie. The scene when the monster is approaching, but the victim is frozen in fear. I now know what it feels like to be in that position. The hand draws closer and rises up until it is in front of my face. It stares at me, saying nothing. Only breathing. Its eyes move from my face to Mach.

“Fluffy Puppy. I have something for you.”

Mach yelps and tries to squirm out of my arm, but between the hand and my frozen state, there’s nowhere he can go. So, he bites me, and that bite snaps me out of my daze. I scream and run out of the living room as fast as I can.

“Wait. I have to give you something.”

Anything a monster has to offer can’t be good. I open the front door and dash onto the beach. The winter weather has deterred people from coming here, but now, I wish someone was around. Mach is yapping and whimpering, but I cannot stop to console him. If I do, the monster will kill us. As I run away from the house, the hand pops up from the sand.

“Please, lady. If you would just-”

I run past the hand and keep going. I don’t get far before the hand reappears and grabs my ankle. I scream as I fall to the ground. Mach slips from my arms and tumbles to the ground.

“Please, I just-”

“Get away!”

I kick the hand with my foot. Something snaps and the hand screams as a spray of blood gushes from two broken fingers. It releases my leg. As it tries to dive underground, Mach runs up and sinks his teeth into it. The hand screams and tries to shake him off.

“Stop! Let go!”

“I wasn't born yesterday. I've seen enough horror movies to know a killer hand when I see one!"

“No! I don't want to hurt anyone! I just want to return the ball!”

“Ball? What ball?”

“Please! Get him off!”

I whistle and motion for Mach to move closer to me. He returns to my side and continues growling at the hand, blood dripping from his fur. The battered hand drags itself across the sand as it tries upright itself. It shivers and lowers its palm towards the sand. A bulge rises up its arm and into the hand, where it proceeds to start coughing. At the fourth cough, it spits a green object onto the sand; a weathered tennis ball.

It’s Mach’s tennis ball, the one that went missing three days ago. When Mach sees his old tennis ball, he runs towards it. Before I can stop him, Mach grabs the ball and shakes it around. I look at him and then the hand.

“Where did you find it?”

“I-it had rolled behind the fridge some days ago. I planned on giving it back to him. But it looks like I shouldn’t have bothered.”

“What do you mean?”

Instead of answering me, the hand pulls itself underground. I look up to see its arm retracting into the house, pulling the damaged hand through the door. I run inside the house and into the living room, just in time to see it slam the closet door. I approach the door and grasp the handle, but it doesn’t budge. I press my ear against the door. I can hear someone crying on the other side of it. Part of me thinks I should pack my bags and move far away. I didn’t move out of my hometown and rent a secluded beach house just to encounter another problem. But the other part of me wants to stay. Stay and talk to this, this hand.

I sigh and knock on the door.

"Excuse me? Uh, hand monster?"

The crying stops.

“That’s not my name.”

“Ah sorry. Um, mind telling me what it is?”

“My name is Dextra Manus. Dextra for short.”

"Oh, that’s a nice name. My name is Helen, and Mach is my dog. Listen, I want to thank you for returning Mach’s ball and apologize for earlier."

“Please go away.”

" I didn't know you weren't trying to hurt us. I've never seen an arm without a body, except in horror films. And usually, the hand kills people.”

“And you assumed I did the same? How rude.”

“Yes, but I’m really sorry. And can you blame me? I've been here for a month, and I've never seen you. Suddenly you pop up without warning, chase us out of the house, then grab my ankle.”

“Earlier, I asked you to wait, but you ignored me and ran away. What else was I supposed to do?”

I open my mouth then close it. She’s got me there.

“Why do I even bother? Every time I try to make a friend, they run away or hurt me.”

"Look, I'm super sorry about what happened. I have some bandages and rubbing alcohol.

Somewhere. Can I dress your wounds to make up for what happened?”

“No. As soon as I open the door, you’re going to have Mach hurt me again.”

"I promise I won’t. Mach thought I was in trouble and was trying to protect me. Once he sees that you aren’t a threat, he won’t lash out at you.”

“Lies. I thought you were different. That’s why I watched you for so long. You seemed nice, and I thought I could trust you. But I was wrong.”

“Wait, what? You’ve been watching me? For how long?”

“Since the day you moved here. I always watch the humans who come to this place. I hide in the walls and ceilings, watching to see if they are worthy. Worthy of remaining in my abode. But none of them were. So, I never revealed myself.”

“Then, what made me so interesting?”

“You are much younger than the usual residents. And a different color. I’d never seen anyone quite like you, but I wasn’t sure about you either. That’s why I decided to do something…new.”

“What do you mean by new?”

“I watched everything you did. I watched you while you slept, ate, worked, and exercised. I wanted to see and know everything that you did. By knowing you well enough, I could figure out a way to approach you. Unfortunately, your Mach kept trying to interfere.”

That explains Mach’s weird behavior over the past weeks. He was trying to get my attention. But since I’m always absorbed in my work, I never noticed what he was trying to warn me about.

“I also borrowed a few of your things. Items you wouldn’t miss. Some food crumbs, hair strands, and some socks.”

“Hold on a second! You’re my sock thief!”

“A thief keeps what they steal, but I never planned on keeping your items. I’ve already returned them to your desk.”

“Tha-that’s not the issue here. The issue is that you’ve been spying and taking my stuff without permission. Don’t you know what privacy is?”

“I do. But I have every right to know what kind of human is living in my place. Only the kind, caring, and pure of heart can remain here. Unfortunately, you have proven that you are not worthy.”

The door swings open quickly and with enough force to knock me to the ground. I scramble to my feet to get away from the closet. Then I hear a smashing noise behind me, and Mach starts barking again. I whirl around and see Dextra hanging from the living room ceiling. Her injuries are gone, and she's holding Mach in the air by his collar. Mach whines and kicks his feet in the air as his collar strangles him. I run from the door and charge at Dextra.

“Dextra! Stop that!”

I leap towards Mach, but she moves him out of the way, sending me crashing to the ground. I get back up and turn to face her, but she holds Mach closer to the ceiling and farther from my reach. I spot the broom against the wall and grab it. I run at Dextra and point the end of the broom at her.

“Give him back!”

“I will release Mach after you’ve moved your things out of my house.”

“I can’t. I have nowhere else to go!”

“Then find some other place. You aren’t welcome here anymore.”

 I look up at Mach, seeing the life drain from his eyes. If I had another place to go, I would. But I put all of my money into renting this house, and I’ve got nothing left.

“Please, Dextra, let him go. You’re choking him. I thought you didn’t kill anyone.”

“I won’t kill your dog. You will.”

Dextra pauses to readjust her hold on Mach, ignoring his fearful yelps.

“Once you start leaving, I’ll let him go. Of course, I can’t stop you if you try to take him by force. But I doubt you’ll be able to get him before I smash his head into the ceiling.”

“No, don’t! Let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t want you here anymore.”

“Okay, I’ll go. Give me some time to find a new place, and I promise I’ll leave.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“You don’t have to. For all I know, you could kill me at any moment. But please don’t hurt Mach. He’s more than a pet to me, he’s family.”

“Very well. Here.”

Dextra lowers Mach to the floor and releases him. He runs to me and jumps into my arms.

“You have three days. You'd better be gone before then, or you will be sorry.”

Dextra clenches her hand as the ceiling around her arm starts to ripple.

“Dextra wait!”

“What now?”

“What will you do after this? Once I pack my stuff and leave.”

“Wait for the next human to arrive and see if they are worthy of remaining here. Why does that concern you?”

“There’s no guarantee that the next person will be anything like me. And even if they are, their reaction to you might be the same as mine. The thing is, you can’t judge a person by watching them. You have to interact with them too. Earlier, you scolded me for judging your appearance, but you’ve been doing the same thing.”

“You saw what happened when I approached you. You and your puppy attacked me.”

“Only because we didn’t know who you were. But once you showed us that you had good intentions, I came back and apologized. Dextra, our first encounter might not have been what you imagined. But because of that encounter, we know more about each other. Surely you agree that you know more about me now than when you were observing me.”

“That is true.”

“Give me another chance. I might not be what you’re looking for, but I can be a great housemate. If you force me to leave, who knows how long it’ll be before someone else shows up? Or if that person will be nice?”

Dextra remains silent and twiddles her fingers. I can’t tell if she’s thinking about my words or about strangling me.

“Very well. You can stay.”

“Really?”

“It is true that you attacked me. But you also came back and apologized. I’ll let you stay, but I’ll be watching you. If you are cruel to your dog or anyone else who comes here, I will remove you from this place.”

“Okay. I understand.”

“Good. Now go away.”

With that, Dextra sinks into the ceiling and disappears again. I stare at the space, waiting to see if she’ll pop out again. But Dextra doesn’t come back. Then my legs buckle out from under me. I was under more stress than I thought.

Mach barks and looks at me with worry in his eyes. I smile and wave at him to let him know I’m okay. After some deep breaths, I get up and leave the living room. Mach follows me, and I notice the blood on his face. Blood from when he attacked Dextra earlier. Better wash it off.

As I walk to the bathroom, my thoughts return to Dextra. I want to ask her some more questions, but something tells me that it will be a while before I can do that. I give Mach his bath and return to my office. Mach follows me inside and goes to his favorite spot in the corner. When he gets there, he sniffs the air, looks around, then lies down to take a nap. Guess that means Dextra isn’t in the area.

I sit at my desk and try to focus on the task in front of me. Everything is silent, but I cannot work. Unable to concentrate, I put my pencil down and cry.