Drip

Drip, Drip, Drip the sound of what sounded like a dripping pipe filled the house. It was eerie and odd, as no other sound was going through the house, just the strange sound of dripping. Jacob woke up hearing the dripping sound. He wasn't sure where it was coming from, but he knew that with that constant sound, he wouldn't be able to sleep. Drip, Drip, Drip came the sound once again, as if it knew Jacob was thinking about the strange noise he'd heard. Jacob sighed and climbed out of his comfortable bed to grab his toolbox. He began in the bathroom closest to his room. He could hear the sound Drip, Drip, Drip filling the house, yet it wasn't coming from his bathroom. He went downstairs, but as he reached the bottom, he heard it again: Drip, Drip, Drip. It was as if the sound itself was mocking him, since his house was so small that it was hard to tell exactly where the sound was coming from. He began in the kitchen, checking the sink; nothing there- then under the fridge, nothing there either. Drip, Drip, Drip came the sound, seeming to ring from the emptiness of his home. Next, he went out to his garage, checking to see if his car was leaking, maybe the sink in the garage, or somehow a critter got in and knocked over one of his bottles. Jacob flicked the light on and scanned the room: Drip, Drip, drip. Now it seemed as if the sound was fainter, so he knew it couldn't be the garage. There was only one last place to check: the attic, but that made no sense to Jacob; there was no source of water in the attic. Jacob grabbed a flashlight before leaving the garage, making sure to flick the light off as he left the room. He made his way back through the kitchen, up the stairs, towards his room. As he passed his room, he looked at his bed, already missing the comfortable sheets and soft bed, but he continued slightly past his room to a small hatch right on the ceiling: Drip, Drip, Drip. He reached up, grabbing the small string that was attached to the door that led to the attic. He pulled it down, letting the ladder fall to the ground, causing a loud crashing sound that filled the otherwise empty home, other than the strange dripping sound that he kept hearing. As Jacob climbed into the attic, he could hear it now, stronger, louder, deeper: DRIP, DRIP, DRIP came the sound, except it was different; it seemed as if it was calling to him. Jacob clicked on the flashlight, shining it into the small, cramped, almost empty place, moving it from side to side. "Hello?" Jacob called into the darkness as if he might get some kind of answer; of course, to no surprise, there was no response. Then Jacob saw it: sitting in the back of the room was a large wardrobe that he didn't remember seeing before; it seemed out of place, gathering dust in this empty place: DRIP, DRIP, DRIP. Once again, the sound filled the air, drowning out all other sounds except the strange beating that Jacob had in his chest; it felt tight, as if something was wrong. Jacob swallowed hard as he slowly began to walk towards the closet, his feet making a soft sound against the wooden boards under him that creaked at each step he took. Time felt as if it had begun to slow to a stop despite all the warnings; despite his brain telling him to run away, he pushed forward. DRIP, DRIP, DRIP. No doubt about it, whatever was causing this sound was coming from inside this wardrobe, an item that Jacob himself didn't ever remember owning. He grabbed the door and opened it. Once he saw it, he felt his heart stop. There was a head that had been cut clean off with some kind of object, and right there he saw the blood dripping out of the severed head, making the ominous dripping sound he had been hearing all night. Jacob was so lost in the moment he hadn't heard the shifting of something behind him. In moments, a man was behind him. "You should have stayed out of the attic," the voice came out in a raspy tone. Jacob felt a strong metallic item sliding into his chest with a heavy "thunk!" Jacob fell to the floor, his knees weak, his heart racing. He could see the blood rushing out of his body, but he had no idea how to stop this. Even if he did stop it, would it matter? The one who did it was still standing right in front of him, knife in hand, a creepy smile on his face. Jacob's body slumped forward, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. The man standing over him said, "Don't worry, I will make sure to clean up," the man said with a creepy laugh. He reached down and pulled the knife out of Jacob's back, the blood falling to the floor with the same " drip, drip, drip " sound that led him to investigate what was causing it. "Why?" Jacob managed to breathe out his question just barely; the sound filled the attic, and the man laughed deeply. He leaned down and looked into Jacob's eyes. "Why not," he said in response. As the man began to put Jacob into the wardrobe, the sound of a key sliding into a lock filled the air. Downstairs, the front door opened, and Julies, a friend of Jacob's, walked inside. "Jacob? You in here, man?" his words filled the air, usually he called or texted him, but he didn't get any response. Julies needed a place to stay, and usually Jacob didn't have a problem with him just coming in and crashing; however, unlike any other night when Julies came over, the house was eerily silent. Usually, he would hear the sound of Jacob's deep snoring. Julies closed the door. "Jacob?" he called into the house, but the only answer he got back was a strange drip, Drip, Drip sound that filled the house.