Chapter 1
January 4th 2012
Dear New Resident,
I hope you enjoy this quaint house as much as I did. May it fill you with many times of peace. Please if you receive any mail addressed to me to forward it to my current address listed at the bottom of this letter. The paw prints on the dock and the box in the attic were here when I got here. Not sure who the box belongs to.
Enjoy your stay,
Steve R
Steve leaves the letter in the mailbox and takes his last bag of luggage. He didn't so much lie in the letter it really was a nice, quaint place and it was very peaceful but regardless of those facts he couldn't wait to leave the lake house behind him. It wasn't the lake house's fault he had a bad break up and had to go back to shifts at the emergency room after his private practice lost their funding and he certainly didn't believe it was cursed, so it was okay to omit his personal drama from the note. He takes one last look at the house, placed in the middle of a lake 5 miles wide with large windows being the only source of outside exterior walls. It gives the illusion just anyone could look in but there was no one around to do so, and even then by some technological advances of some kind Steve couldn't bother to remember, the glass reflects in a way that disables anyone from seeing completely. The only time you could see in were select windows that let you know if someone was home but those were easy to avoid if you wanted privacy. They're also easily identified as they were the only windows that had blinds on it. He left them open for the new person. The walkway from land to house is around 10 yards and narrow, leaving enough room for one person and maybe a dog, Steve thinks as he rolls his eyes looking at the pawprints again. He finally jumps in his car and pulls away from the house with promise he'll be back to check on it soon.
February 3rd
Bucky Barnes drives his truck down the gravel road towards the secluded lake house he decided, on a whim, to rent. A stupid decision possibly, especially for a bartender, but a great place for him to get peace to write. He checks the mailbox and sees a letter written by the previous inhabitant. He slings his only bag back over his shoulder and slides his fingers though the flap of the envelope to open it as he walks up the walkway. He unfolds it as he puts the keys he was given in the lock, flicks the lights on by the door, and drops his bag down. He walks to the couch and starts reading.
Quaint. Definitely. He got that memo when he checked out the place. He glances quickly at the bottom to see the address he's supposed to forward the mail to and goes back up to reading.
Paw prints on the dock? Not sure he remembers seeing those unless he wasn't paying attention when he was shown the place, or even just now. He'll check in the morning.
Box? That could be interesting. Soon as he's settled and orders some food he'll find his way up to the attic.
He puts the letter down. Okay so no notion of anything haunted. That's good. (Except maybe the mysterious box?)
His food comes and he puts on the tv, which he set up when he was waiting for the delivery. Of course setting up the tv took longer than he thought so he didn't have time to look in the attic for the mysterious box. He finishes his dinner, discarding the remnants in the trash. He sits back down to finish the episode of whatever mindless tv program he settled on to rid himself of scrolling through all of the channels. He already forgot the name of it but it was a rerun of some show about people jumping through impossible obstacles. Bucky sits back and wonders if he could do that, maybe even win their prize...if there even was a prize. Note to self look up how to apply to American obstacle course show or something...
He turns it off after the episode ends, resisting the urge to let it go to the next one, and decides now is a good time as any to look up at the attic.
He pulls the covering down, revealing a small latter, and climbs up. He peaks his head through the hole and notices how empty the room is. He climbs through regardless and walks around the room seeing a few pieces of furniture, some with sheets covering it, some covered in dust. That's odd. Almost as if no one has been up here in years. He looks around some more but doesn't see anything resembling a box. Maybe the letter was old and not only did the other inhabitants paint over the paw prints but also got rid of the box (and never dusted). Shame he was curious.
He checks the letter again and there was no date besides the day and month. Maybe it was January 4th of another year?
Bucky sighs and goes back to the television, scrolling through again until he falls on some movie that was halfway done. He falls asleep on the couch.
The next day he looks around the house, in daylight this time, and sees what could possibly be fixed. He doesn't notice much in the house, besides some rusty hinges which wont be a huge project, so he goes outside to look. He walks on the walkway still not seeing the paw prints that were supposedly there, however, he does notice the paint chipping on the hand railing. Pieces of it come off in his hand as he slides it down. Looks like he'll need a trip to the nearest hardware store for some paint. It'll probably be easiest to just match the black that's already on it as much as he'd like to try his hand at a bold color change.
Luckily the hardware store was nearby, so about a half an hour later he has the paint, brushes, a roller (in case that's easier), and a tray to dump the paint in.
About an hour in (and not even halfway done) he hears something near the bushes on the other side of the road of the house. He hears something jump out of it and the light scratching of nails on the pavement. He's about to turn around and face whatever beast decided to intrude on his peaceful Lake House when he hears a playful bark. The beast, or otherwise known as a Golden Retriever, gallops towards him tongue flopping in the wind. Bucky manages to dodge out of the dog's way but unfortunately the paint pan didn't make it. The dog's feet run through it, knocking the paint can over as well in the process, and continues to run down the walkway and towards the house. Bucky quickly picks up the paint can before more paint can be dumped out and takes off after the dog. Bucky stops the dog as it's feet touch the front porch of the house and thanks himself for closing the door.
"Hey, buddy. What're you doing?" Bucky asks the dog as if the dog will answer him back 'Oh nothing much just going for my mid day jog'.
Bucky laughs to himself . “Alright let me see if I can get you cleaned up,” he says to the dog. He put his hand on the door knob but stops himself. Oh right. House that’s technically not his. Dog that’s definitely not his with paint on his paws. Probably wouldn’t make a good mixture.
“Umm…” Bucky turns back to the dog who is sitting patiently. “Stay,” he apprehensively orders, pointing to the ground. “Stay,” He repeats as he opens the door. “Stay.” He says again as he moves his body backwards into the door, not leaving room for the dog to come in. Besides extending his head to the door, the dog stays still.
Bucky rushes to the kitchen and looks in the drawers for a dish towel of some kind. Nothing. God the previous people really didn’t leave shit. He sighs and takes the roll of paper towels he had got on his way back from the hardware store. He ripped some off and folded it as he wet it under the sink quickly. He walks back to the front door mostly expecting the dog to run off, which he actually did think it did until he opens the door fully and sees it laying down on the porch near the door.
“Well at least you’re a good listener,” Bucky says, lowering himself to the ground. He grabs a paw, darkened with paint. The dog lets him, wagging its tail as Bucky uses the cloth to wipe off some of the paint. “Even if you did ruin my walkway…” He looks past the dog to long wooden walkway connecting the house to land. “Wait a minute…” He gets up and sees the paw prints all the way from towards the road to his house. The walkway. The painted paw prints. He walks over and brushes his shoe over one. It’s already dry. Paw prints on the walkway just like the letter described.
He walks back over to the dog and finishes cleaning its paws. He wears a puzzled look on his face as he thinks, much to the dog’s displeasure. Bucky feels a light kick on his face as he notices the dog roll on his back, asking for a belly rub. This shakes Bucky out of his trance as he laughs again at his new friend and obliges. The dog’s paws are clean and Bucky packs up the remaining paint, he’ll finish tomorrow. He heads inside, this time not giving the dog any orders so he follows him inside. Bucky doesn’t mind. He grabs the letter from the table by the couch and rereads it. He shakes his head again, maybe this dog has done this before? Or any dog for that matter? He sighs, looks through one of his bags for a piece of paper and decides to write a letter back. Tomorrow, after getting the dog checked at the vet, he’ll pick up some envelopes and stamps.