Ch.14: Gaslighting the Mistress

The cold air pouring from the vents has stabilized, but Aris hasn't come down.

The "Emergency Venting" protocol must have a manual reset on the server rack itself, but it also locks out remote access until the system is rebooted. He probably gave up trying to fix it from his tablet and just piled more blankets on Isabella. He doesn't want to leave her alone when she's in pain. Or maybe he just doesn't want to walk down into the freezing basement at 3:30 AM.

Either way, he's trapped upstairs. And the system is currently glitching.

The blue lights on the server rack are flickering in an erratic rhythm. The surge I sent through the auxiliary line must have corrupted a logic controller.

I stare at the lights.

*Blink-blink... pause... blink-blink-blink.*

It's not random. It's a feedback loop.

I still have a few seconds of movement left in my toes before the Rocuronium fully reclaims my lower body. My big toe is numb from the shock, but I can still wiggle it.

The damaged wire is hidden in the bundle, but I know which one it is. It's the grounding loop for the lighting sub-panel.

I extend my leg again.

I hook the wire.

I can't saw it again—my muscles are fading fast—but I can tap it.

I press the exposed copper against the metal frame of the bed.

*Tap.*

Across the room, the server lights dim.

*Tap-tap.*

They flare.

I am sending a signal directly into the house's nervous system. I am shorting the ground, creating a voltage spike that the system interprets as a command pulse.

It's crude. It's messy. But it works.

I watch the monitor. The feed from the master bedroom is grainy in the low light.

Aris and Isabella are huddled under the duvet. The room is dark, save for the standby light on the television.

I tap out a rhythm with my toe.

*Long. Short. Long. Short.*

It’s Morse code? No. Too complex.

It’s a beat.

*Thump-thump... thump-thump...*

I tap it again.

*Thump-thump... thump-thump...*

Upstairs, the bedside lamp on Isabella's side flickers.

It flashes on. Then off. Then on again.

It pulses in perfect time with my foot.

Isabella stirs. She pushes the blanket down. She stares at the lamp.

"Aris," she whispers. Her voice is shaky. "The light."

"It's just a surge," Aris mumbles from under the pillow. "Go back to sleep."

I change the rhythm.

I tap faster.

*Da-da-da-DAH... da-da-da-DAH...*

The lamp flashes. The overhead recessed lights join in. Even the standby light on the TV blinks in unison.

*Da-da-da-DAH.*

It’s the opening bars of Beethoven’s *Symphony No. 5*.

Isabella sits bolt upright. She clutches her chest.

"Aris!" she screams. "It's doing it again!"

Aris sits up. He looks at the lights dancing around the room.

"What the hell is going on?"

"It's a pattern," Isabella gasps. "Don't you hear it?"

I change the song.

I tap out a slow, lilting waltz. *ONE-two-three, ONE-two-three.*

The lights dim and brighten, swaying like a dancer.

It’s *The Blue Danube*.

It’s the song Aris and I danced to at our wedding.

Isabella freezes. Her eyes go wide, staring at the ceiling as the room pulses around her. She knows this song. She watched the wedding video. She studied it to learn my mannerisms.

"Stop it," she whimpers. "Make it stop."

"It's just a short circuit," Aris insists, getting out of bed. He walks to the wall switch and flips it.

The lights don't turn off. They keep dancing. *ONE-two-three.*

"The switch isn't working," he says, frustration mounting. "The whole system is fried."

"It's not a short circuit," Isabella whispers. She pulls her knees to her chest. "It's her."

Aris turns to her. "Don't be ridiculous. Elena is paralyzed in the basement."

"She's haunting us," Isabella sobs. "She knows I'm cold. She's mocking me."

I tap harder. My toe is bleeding now, the skin rubbed raw against the metal, but I don't care.

I switch to a new rhythm. Something simpler. Something primal.

*Tap... tap... tap-tap-tap... tap...*

S-O-S.

The lights flash it out. Three short. Three long. Three short.

Then I switch again.

I tap out the rhythm of a song I used to hum to Lily. *Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.*

*Blink... blink... blink-blink-blink...*

Isabella scrambles out of bed. She backs away from the lights, pressing herself against the wall.

"She's here," she screams. "She's in the wires! She's in the walls!"

"Isabella, stop it!" Aris grabs her shoulders. "It's a glitch! The storm outside—"

"There is no storm!" she shrieks, pushing him away. She points a trembling finger at the ceiling fixture, which is currently strobing the lullaby. "That's *her* song! That's the song she sang to the brat!"

Aris looks up. He watches the lights.

He recognizes the rhythm.

His face goes pale.

For the first time, I see fear in his eyes. Not of me, but of the unknown. He is a man of science. He doesn't believe in ghosts. But he can't explain this.

"It's a coincidence," he mutters, but his voice lacks conviction.

"It's not!" Isabella covers her ears, squeezing her eyes shut. "She's humming! Can't you hear it? The house is humming her song!"

"Aris! The house is humming *her* song!"