Rhayven House by Frank Bittinger

Toby said, “Sometimes I realize you are too twisted for my innocent sense of humor.”
         “All part of my charm.”
         One of the treads creaked loudly under Toby’s foot. “Seriously, I better not crash through to the dark, dank basement where creepy things live.”
         Upstairs, they did a quick tour and Toby wanted to go up to the top, to the window room.
         Toby whistled as he took it in. “You got some view from the eagle’s nest, my friend. Too bad it’s of trees, trees, and more trees.”
         “And mountains. Don’t forget the mountains.”
         “There’s more room up here than I thought there’d be.” He turned around as if surveying the room. “Luckily, you still have these cool leaded windows up here. I guess it was too high for rock-tossing hoodlums.”
         “Somehow, I don’t think the broken windows are the result of vandalism,” Ian said.
         “How’d you come up with that theory?”
         “Vandals wouldn’t stop at breaking some windows. They’d break in and steal anything they could carry, hack up the floors and walls and spray paint graffiti all over the place.” Ian motioned for his friend to follow him downstairs again. As they walked, he said, “I’d expect a lot more damage if the place was a victim of vandalism. I wouldn’t expect them to stop at busting out the windows. Not when a lot of the old fixtures and moldings and stuff could be stripped and sold at flea markets and antique shops, even online.”
         “You make a valid point.”
                 
    ~ ~ ~
     
         Back downstairs, Ian and Toby walked into the room that would be the living room again in two to three months. Light flooded in through the broken windows, illuminating the ruined room.
         “Can you really see past the present condition to what it’s going to look like when you’re done?” Toby asked, as if reading Ian’s thoughts. “Or haven’t you thought that far ahead?”
         Nodding, Ian said, “I can envision it—the colors, the furniture, the lights, and everything else. I’m sure stuff will change here and there along the way until I get it exactly the way I want it to be, but for the most part I can picture it. This is a chance for me to start fresh and see what I can do with my life.”
         “Just don’t throw out all your furniture and stuff so you can buy more. That’d be a waste.”
         “Most of my furniture will make the transition to this house. I’m sure I’ll eventually need other things, as I continue the reno after I move in and get more rooms finished.”
         Ian knew he wanted some of those giant carved wooden giraffes. He’d limit himself. They came in so many styles; he didn’t want to go overboard and turn into one of those hoarders. Maybe a few would be enough and not give the impression he was attempting to simulate the savannas of Africa.
         I could have a family of them. I'd give 'em all names and they could stand right there in the corner of the living room and ward off evil...or whatever it is giraffes do , he thought to himself.
         Toby’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Pay attention. Hey! Hello. Are you still on the planet? You’re acting like one of the replacements from The Day Mars Invaded Earth , except you’re not in black and white. Hey.” Toby snapped his fingers. “Focus, Dr. Fielding. What is going on?”
         “Just thinking, Toby.”
         “About?”
         “Giraffes.”
         Toby blinked a couple times. “Um, okay.” It was an odd subject to be thinking about at the moment. “You feel like expanding upon the subject of giraffes or should we move along?”
         “Move along.”
         “That’s what I suspected. I can’t believe all this woodwork is still intact after being exposed for however long to the elements,” Toby said, looking at one of the carved ravens. “You know this