Lena stood in the kitchen, staring out the window at the dry, brittle fields stretching into the distance. The sun had set hours ago, leaving only the faintest hint of dusk in the air. Still, the scent of rain lingered in the house—soft and damp, as if the earth had already begun to soak it in.

But there had been no rain for weeks. She had asked Sam earlier if he’d noticed it too, the way the air felt almost heavy with the lingering smell of earth. He shrugged it off, busy unpacking boxes in the living room, but she couldn’t shake the odd sensation.

The smell seemed to grow stronger at night, as if the house was breathing in the storm it had been promised but never received. Eli had already retreated to his room, his slight figure tucked beneath a thick raincoat, the hood pulled low over his head. "It’s going to rain," he had whispered earlier, as though it were a secret he had to keep.

“It’s only our first night, honey; we don’t have to have the whole house unpacked by tomorrow,” Lena said with a chuckle as she sank onto the couch with a cup of tea.

“I know. I’m just excited to get settled,” Sam said as he closed the box before him and joined his wife on the plush sofa.

They were both silently admiring the openness of their new living room when the pitter-patter started on the window.

“Well, isn’t that perfect timing? The fields out there sure are dry,” Sam said, standing up. “Are you ready for bed?”

Lena nodded as she brought her empty cup into the kitchen. “I guess Eli was right,” she called to Sam from the other room. “He was so sure it would rain, he asked to sleep in his raincoat!”

“Hm,” Sam responded, appearing behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. “That’s a bit odd, but I’m sure stranger things have been requested by imaginative six-year-olds whose mother let them watch Coraline right before moving into a new house and proceeded to fall asleep before it got spooky.”

Lena tipped her head back and laughed. “The kid on the cover looked cute, okay? It’s an old movie; I didn’t know it was so dark. Besides, he liked the spider stuff, and I don’t think he caught onto the symbolism.” Lena smiled in response to her husband’s smirk as she leaned forward to push open the curtains on the window above the sink. “We’ve gotta replace these; mysterious old Aunt Agatha clearly decorated in the 20s!”

“Wait, that’s odd,” Sam started, leaning forward to push them open further. “I thought it was raining.”

They both paused and listened, the “tap tap tap” of raindrops still loud and clear.
Sam leaned in to examine the window closer, “No drops are landing… and the ground is dry. You didn’t leave TV on upstairs, did you?”

“I don’t think so,” Lena said, peering out the window. She suddenly felt unsettled by the vast expanse stretching in every direction, neighbours only a distant promise, entirely out of sight.

“Ah,” Sam started, perking up, “I wonder if we have animals in the attic. I’ll call someone tomorrow to come take a look.”

Feeling her stomach turn again, Lena peeled her eyes away from the window. “That’s probably it,” she said as she crossed her arms and closed her eyes, hoping to combat the sudden pressure in her head.

Lena awoke the following day and, for a moment, forgot about the hustle, bustle, and stress of moving. The gentle tap tap tap of raindrops above her head pulled her from her snoozing state.

She sat up and yawned into a stretch, turning to find Sam already gone.

“Morning, hun. Did you want some breakfast? I told the boss I’d be a little late today but should get going soon.” Sam said as soon as she appeared in the kitchen.

Lena smiled and sat down at their dining table, shoving some papers out of the way. “Sure, thanks. Have you called someone about the animals in the attic yet? I heard them again this morning.”

“Right, yes, I’ll do it on the way to work, okay?” Sam said as he leaned in for a kiss before setting down a plate of pancakes and orange slices. “I’ll take mine to go; I gotta run. Have a good day, and give Eli a kiss for me, yeah?”

Lena nodded as she eagerly dug into her breakfast.

After a few minutes of peaceful silence, Eli padded into the kitchen, hair standing up and eyes bleary.

“Daddy made some pancakes. Did you want some?” Lena asked as he looked around, clutching his raincoat closed.

“Mama,” Eli murmured, his voice strangely steady, “It’s going to rain.”

“Probably soon, hun. But it won’t rain in the house. Do you like wearing your raincoat because the girl in that movie wore hers so much?”

He shook his head and repeated, “It’s going to rain.” After staring at each other for a moment, he toddled into the living room and started laying out some toys. “Mama, does this house have Saturday morning cartoons?”

Startled by the change in tone, she turned the corner into the living room to find him on the floor, his raincoat beside him and a plastic truck in each hand. He looked up at her, happy and bright.

Watching him intently, she flicked on the TV and found his favourite channel. “Just for a little while, okay? Let me know when you get hungry.”

He nodded without taking his eyes off the screen. Satisfied that he’d be busy for a while, she went to unpack in the office across the hall. Leaving the door open so she could still see him, she settled into the sea of boxes and opened the first one.

Sighing, she pulled a stack of papers and documents out and placed them on her lap, picking up the first one to examine. She flipped it over to find an old, sepia-toned image of a group of vaguely familiar people. The one in the middle could have been her Aunt Agatha, but it was a little out of focus.

Confused, she placed it down and looked to the next one in the stack. It was an old letter written on faded yellow paper in a swirling cursive she could barely understand. “Where did this come from?” She spoke out loud as she scrunched her eyebrows and pursed her lips at the two mystery items.

Unable to shake the unsettling curiosity, she studied the letter further. It was hard to decipher, but she could make out a few phrases such as “unruly weather,” “it waits for the right time,” and a few instances of “storm.”

Lena discarded the letter and picked up a stack of photos. They all depicted the same group of people, with her aunt in the middle, smiling. In the background, she saw the sun peeking out of a large cloud. Each photo was the same, save for the cloud in the background creeping closer and closer while their expressions went from cheery and peaceful to grim panic.

Although unsure what it meant, Lena felt sweat on her brow as the fear settled into her chest. Panic rising, she threw the photos down and got up, realizing that the scent of damp earth had returned, along with a light tap tap tap on the office window.

“Eli!” She shouted, running out into the living room to find him standing in front of the TV, raincoat back on, staring straight ahead.

“Mama, it’s going to rain.” He said, voice monotone, face deadpan. He turned around and slowly began opening the curtains to the large window as the tap tap tap grew louder. “It’s hungry.”

Lena bent to scoop Eli into her arms as what looked like thick, black raindrops finally began falling on the window. “It’s going to rain.” He whispered again in her ear.

She watched the window in horror as the black droplets oozed against the glass, spreading like oil across the surface. A gentle crack hit the air as a thin line crept toward the corner. As one thin tendril slipped inside, the air thickened with the stench of rot and metal, and a faint sizzling accompanied its advance. Lena screamed and instinctively ran into the kitchen, where it also slinked across the floor toward her. Eli’s expression remained vacant; his gaze transfixed on the inky rain invading their home.

Lena ran to the front door and threw it open only to find the air heavy with this rain, the wind howling as it pulled the falling substance almost horizontal.

Slamming the door behind her again, she ran to the back of the house and pulled down the attic stairs with one hand, keeping a firm hold on Eli with the other. Thankful for the lack of windows, Lena sighed and flicked on the single, harsh bulb.

Unsure what else to do, she tried calling Sam, but the line was dead. Despite having full bars, all she got was static. Panic still reeling through her body, she looked around, desperate for a solution. The empty attic contained nothing but a small box with a rusted padlock hanging open, inviting her to take a look.

“Eli, how did you know it was going to rain?” She asked, setting the raincoat-clad boy down in front of her.

“It told me it was hungry, mama,” He said, his eyes holding onto that grim, vacant expression from before.

The tap tap tap that haunted the house had turned into a full-blown banging that seemed to press into the walls. Lena reached for the box, tossed the broken lock, and flipped open the lid. Inside were stacks of old, faded photos, each held together with a cracked elastic band.

She ripped off the first one and flipped through the photos, each one the same. The only difference was the encroaching cloud and changing expressions. She went faster and faster, ripping through each set, desperate for one to be normal. Her stomach turned harder as the photos became more modern, and it became apparent they were standing in front of this house.

Finally, she reached the bottom of the box to find a single photo lying face down. This one was clean, white, and pristine. Lena sat back, brought her hands to her temples, and closed her eyes, trying to wake up from this nightmare. As the banging continued, the walls creaked and gently bent to the force. Her mind’s eye couldn’t shake the final image of each family, their eyes hollow with the same terror she now felt. Tightening her grip on Eli, she opened her eyes and pulled the box closer.

Heart pounding, she picked up the photo and flipped it over. Every muscle in her body tensed as she looked down at a photo of her and Eli standing in the window, smiling. A far-off storm cloud was evident in the window’s reflection.

© Copyright 2025 Dread. All rights reserved.