The Voice Downstairs(1)

Author: Zhu Li Zhu Qi

I heard my boyfriend's voice coming from downstairs, asking me to come down for supper.

Just as I was about to go downstairs, I heard my boyfriend's voice coming from the room next door.

"Don't go. I heard it, too."

1

My boyfriend and I were both professional writers. To better inspire our work, we rented a mansion in the suburbs.

That day, when I was writing alone in the room, I heard the voice of my boyfriend, Silas Findley, coming from downstairs.

"Charlotte, come down and have some supper."

I smiled as I opened the door and stepped out to the corridor.

When I was about to head downstairs, I suddenly heard Silas' voice coming from the room next door.

"Don't go. I heard it, too."

His voice was trembling and laced with a hint of fear. This made my heart pound faster and harder against my chest.

If Silas was in the room next door, then who was the person downstairs?

The voice sounded exactly the same as Silas'.

Just then, I heard his voice coming from downstairs again.

"Charlotte, come down quick! The voice upstairs doesn't belong to me!"

I was stunned and stood rooted to my spot.

In a flash, I was enveloped by overwhelming fear.

I felt a chill running down my back.

Silas' voice sounded again from the room next door.

"Charlotte, come in here! You mustn't believe the person downstairs!"

At the same time, the voice from downstairs reverberated throughout the mansion.

"Charlotte, come to me now! Leave the second floor!"

The two identical voices spoke at the same time.

Even their tone was the same.

I felt a chill all over, even from in between the gaps of my teeth.

"What did you gift me on our first date?" I questioned.

Both voices said in unison, "A book called 'Intimate Relationships' by Rowland S. Miller."

I was shocked.

Now, I really couldn't tell which one was the real Silas.

The anxiety was building up, and just as it was about to boil over, the door to the room next door slowly creaked open.

A pale but distinct hand rested on the edge of the door.

In the darkness, I clearly heard my own gulp.

Fortunately, it was Silas who appeared from behind the door.

He grabbed me and dragged me back into the room.

Nervousness, along with a tinge of fear was written on his face.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw him.

I was about to ask Silas about the voice coming from downstairs when he grabbed my shoulders all of a sudden.

"Charlotte, there's something I haven't told you. I'm afraid that the person downstairs is my older twin brother, Yonah Findley. He looks exactly the same as I do, and we even have the same voice. The only difference between us is that he's a lunatic with an antisocial personality disorder."

He then added, "Last week, I learned that he had escaped from the psychiatric hospital. I thought I could escape him by hiding here, but he still came after me. Believe me, he's a psycho through and through. He'll definitely kill us!"

I was shocked by Silas' words when the voice from downstairs sounded again.

"Don't believe him, Charlotte! He's lying to you! He beat me up and left me in the woods. It took a long time for me to find the way back. He's my psycho twin brother!"

Both voices were the same, yet they were telling entirely different stories.

I subtly backed away and put my hand on the doorknob.

Since I wasn't able to make a judgment, hiding alone was the safest thing to do.

However, just as I was about to leave, I heard a series of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

He was coming.

2

In the end, after hesitating for a few seconds, I decided to stay in the room.

Silas grabbed my hand. His palm was icy and covered in sweat.

"Quick, hide in the wardrobe," Silas said before opening the door to the wardrobe and pushing me in.

Because it was winter, I carefully hid underneath a pile of coats.

I had a petite stature. Even if someone were to open the wardrobe, they wouldn't notice me if they didn't push the clothes away.

I heard Silas lock the door.

Through the gap between the wardrobe doors, I watched the situation outside with bated breath.

The sound of someone slamming the door came from outside, followed by a desperate and earnest roar. "I know you hate me, but please don't hurt Charlotte! She's innocent!"

My heart skipped a beat, for the voice sounded far too emotional.

Nevertheless, Silas scoffed at the man's words. "Quit acting, you psycho! You've been good at putting on an act since you were a child. Back when we were kids, Mom bought us a pet dog, but you hated it. You hated that the dog had taken mine and Mom's attention away from you, so you killed and even threw its body to my bedside, making Mom think that it was me who harmed the dog! Now, you're pulling the same trick again!"

The pounding and kicking at the door intensified as it mixed with cursing and scolding from a voice that sounded exactly like Silas'.

"You jerk! You're just as psychotic as you were in the past. Don't you dare lay a finger on Charlotte!"

Hiding in the wardrobe, I couldn't tell which one of them was telling the truth at all.

That was because I had never heard Silas talk about his twin brother before.

Before this, all I knew was that Silas' mother had passed away when he was 15.

The sound of kicking and pounding grew louder and louder before a reverberant thud sounded.

The door had been kicked open.

But it was empty outside, and there seemed to be no one there.

Silas glanced at me and signaled me not to go out. Then, he walked out of the room by himself.

Soon, I heard a commotion coming from outside. It sounded like people were fighting.

I was so nervous that I broke out in sweats.

Before long, I heard a muffled voice.

Then, the mansion fell into dead silence.

My heart was pounding unusually fast.

Silas walked in at that moment.

His pale and handsome visage carried an inexplicable beauty, but he somehow appeared broken.

"You can come out now, Charlotte. I've knocked him out," Silas said to me.

My hand stayed on the door of the wardrobe. I was about to push it open, but I immediately pulled it back.

That man hadn't once looked at the wardrobe.

Instead, he was looking around the room as if he didn't know where I was hiding.

My heart fell to the pit of my stomach.

He was the man from downstairs.

Unfortunately, I wasn't sure if he was the real Silas.

I soundlessly reached for my phone intending to send an emergency text message to the police.

However, my SIM card had been removed by someone prior to this moment.

Just then, my phone suddenly vibrated.

It was my alarm.

I didn't want to remain in a sitting position for too long, so I'd set an alarm for every hour to remind myself to get up and take a walk.

I turned off the alarm in a panic, praying that the person outside didn't hear it.

At the same time, I shrunk my body and hid behind the pile of coats as discreetly as possible.

There was no movement outside for a long time.

Just when I thought the man hadn't noticed me, I saw an obsidian eye through the gap in the wardrobe's doors.

"So this is where you were hiding."

3

I held my breath and remained frozen in my hiding spot, not daring to budge an inch.

"Stop hiding. I've already seen you."

The door of the wardrobe was pulled open, then a pale hand reached in and forcefully dragged me out of my hiding place.

I screamed at the top of my lungs and struggled relentlessly, but the man pressed down on my shoulders with great force.

"Calm down, Charlotte!"

I forced myself to calm down.

Then, I discreetly took two steps back.

"You are not Silas," I said.

The man tilted his head while looking at me.

I met his gaze and slowly voiced, "Silas doesn't have a mole on his chin."

"Indeed, I'm not Silas."

A tinge of anxiety flitted across the man's countenance as he explained hastily, "But please believe me when I say that I didn't mean to hurt you. I asked you to come downstairs because I want you to run away as quickly as you can."

I sneered as I raised my phone, pointing the screen toward him.

There was a news article on my phone, published half a year ago.

A psychiatric patient with an antisocial personality disorder had escaped from the psychiatric hospital.

The person had killed an eight-year-old girl and was prone to violent tendencies, making them extremely dangerous.

"Silas is right. You are his twin brother, Yonah. I suggest you leave right away, for I've already called the police," I intentionally threatened him.

"Charlotte, we'd be dead by the time the police arrive." Yonah looked at me with a face that looked exactly like Silas'. "Silas and I are twins, but he's the lunatic. Everything he said was true, though the perpetrator was him, not me."

Yonah continued, "When we were kids, he killed my beloved pet dog and placed the body on his own bed. Then, he cried to our mother, saying I was the one who killed the dog. When we were adults, he completely lost his mind and murdered a girl, then blamed me for his doing."

"He comes to see me every year to relish in his victory. Half a year ago, he told me about you. Charlotte, a person with an antisocial personality disorder can never fall in love with someone. I'm here for revenge but also to save you," he added.

After listening to what Yonah said, I was completely astounded.

Nevertheless, I couldn't harbor suspicions toward my own boyfriend based on Yonah's words alone.

Perhaps he could be a lying psycho.

At the thought of the unconscious Silas, I hurried out of the room.

However, the corridor was empty, and Silas was nowhere to be seen.

Fear, once again, flitted across Yonah's fair countenance.

Terror-stricken, he shuddered uncontrollably.

"He's already awake. Charlotte, if I were you, I would hide now. He doesn't want to continue the act anymore, and he'll hunt us down like a predator hunting its prey. He loves playing hide and seek, and if he finds us, we'll be dead."

Yonah grabbed my hand, and his own was trembling. "Let's hide."

I broke free from Yonah's grasp.

I didn't believe him.

I was the one who rented the mansion, and only I knew of the basement.

At this juncture, the basement was the safest place to hide.

I took a deep breath, glanced at Yonah, then bolted downstairs.

To my surprise, Yonah didn't chase after me.

I headed straight for the basement and locked the door.

Funnily enough, the pitch-black surroundings gave me a sense of security.

The basement was dusty, and the walls were mottled.

In the middle of the room, there was a wooden table.

I walked toward the table and noticed a dust-covered diary. The pages had yellowed with time.

Out of curiosity, I opened the diary.

The first sentence of the diary read: [I suspect that Silas wants to kill me.]