SHF Scribe '10
Post by Toadkiller Dog on Feb 4, 2009 15:16:31 GMT
The old house sat on a rather high hill, mostly out of sight from any surrounding roadways of paths. Shrouded by woods and rusting metallic gates. Tall weeds grew about the estate, as well as the creeping tendrils of moss reaching over the black walls of the place. On the day of my arrival at the very strange Hessian house a gentle breeze swept over the long, winding path leading to the foreboding mansion. Such a breeze could have normally been described as pleasant and balmy. On this particular day however it rather carried a certain aura of unease and dread.
Though I knew little about the mansion I'd be hence-fourth staying in, and even less about the odd family whom had claimed the place as home for years; I had somewhat prepared for such a venture of eeriness. For it was true, all I knew of the Hessians was that they were fabled to be indeed odd, reclusive and perhaps even morbid. Still nothing could have prepared me for what began to slowly crawl into view.
The loathsome building stretching it's twin spires to the choking sun, and the entire lot of the place seemed to be darker than the path I now stood on. It was as if the clouds them selves worked to protect the sun from the visage of the intimidating dwelling. Time seemed to slow as I gazed upon the lot, reality seeming to fade into a monochrome two-tone of gray. The wind seemed to barely blow past the heavy looking gate before me, mysteriously slightly ajar, and completely without any welcoming gesturing, smiles, or personnel period. Not a thing moved except the too slow, too subtle rustling of the unkempt shrubbery.
The walkway leading to the ominous domain was weather beaten, fading and as lifeless as its surroundings. I could make out no movement or activity from the darkened windows either. It would seem as if the place were altogether abandoned.
Reality slowly snapped back into place like the piece of a puzzle, and the world begin to slowly trickle with color again about my feet as I looked down to see dandelions blowing about. Trying to ignore everything in my better judgment, I picked up my belongings and journeyed to the large oaken front door. My rapping of the door nearly echoing in the ghostly quiet little garden of the estate.
Growing impatient after no report from my knocking, I decided to chance my earlier notion of the place being abandoned. Pushing on the door it gave with some effort and slowly, and noisily creaked open about a foot or so. If what the exterior had shown seemed bleak and desolate, the interior could only surely be called grim. Pale, dying sunlight snuck through the thin gray curtains of the foyer illuminating a washed out white room complete with wooden floorboards. Fear truly clenched my neck as I stepped foot into the structure, said floorboards creaking loudly under my fairly slender frame. In the center of the rather large room sat a neat porcelain topped table. A vase of withering red roses atop it alongside a small waxen sealed envelope.
Without knowing how I knew this was meant for my eyes to gather, and as such an eagerness came to my hands as I tried to unseal the thickly coarse paper without damaging it too badly. The eagerness held was that of hoping that there may be an explanation of the state of my new home, and it's complete lack of a welcoming party.
Finally retrieving the crisply folded parchment, my eyes poured over it's contents, and nearly as quickly as it'd came, all hope in warmth and welcoming drained from my mind like the color from my face. The note was penned in a fine, clean hand, it's contents empty of emotion and all feeling. It read...
"We've expected your arrival Mr. Chambers, however unexpected events have forced our hand out of reach of this estate. I trust you will be able to take care of yourself well enough, learn the way about our home while we are away. Your guest quarters will be the furthest room down the hallway from the stairs upon the second floor. All other rooms upon that floor are strictly off limits to you due to privacy reasoning. You will find them locked tight, and they are not to be disturbed. You will also find enough provisions to last you from going hungering until our return in the cookhouse.
-J. Hessian."
My previous assumption of my being alone here would have seemed correct. The common sense of a still sane man tried to birth its way to the surface of my mind, screaming for me to turn tail here and now, and nay glance a sideways look back. My legs begged for me to allow them to carry me as swiftly as they could back down the sunny trail they'd carried me here on. However, given the circumstances of my situation, that would have been impossible, as there was simply nowhere else to go to.
Feeling more fatiqued than hungered I'd decided it'd be within my best interest to at least acquaint myself with the lodging I'd reluctantly be spending much of my time hence-fourth within.
The staircase leading to the second floor proved noiser than the floor below it, and the hallway leading to the back room, my room was long and unnerving. I'd stopped before reaching my destination to try the written word of my host, wiggling a doorknob casually near my own. As had been promised, it was locked. This I thought strange, but shrugged and proceeded to my quarters.
The room that sprawled before me had felt surprisingly cozy despite the deeply seated dread the rest of the place instilled in me. It was a spacious wooden finished room, complete with already burning lamps. A large, comfortable looking bed beckoned me from it's center. Looking from it out behind myself into the hallway, it's blackness threatening to swallow my sanity if I peered too closely, or too much longer. A chill ran down my spine, as I shut the heavy door behind me, making sure to quickly bolt and lock it as so. A weight felt as if it had been lifted from my being in that action. I dropped my few bags of belongings, kicked off my dirty boots and climbed gingerly into the embrace of the bed and its linens. The short journey until that point had proved too much for me, and I'd quickly found my way into a deep slumber.
Though I'm not sure how long I'd been lost in a dreamland, I awoke to the unmistakable din of heavy footsteps plodding down the long hallway outside. The sounds echoing through the otherwise stillness of the house, with the loudly creaking floorboards. Surely my host or hosts could not have arrived back so soon, after leaving such a bevy of food behind for me to sate myself on I thought to myself. Frozen with apprehensiveness and fear. Fear of what at the time I did not know, but fear it was all the same. I was not given too much more time to ponder things as the footsteps continued down the hallway toward my room. I'd been so wrapped up in reasoning and dismay that I'd hardly even noticed them stop in the first place.
What came next would be a completely unseen event that would haunt my nightmares for years to come. An event that forced the mind to conjure vividly grotesque imagery to associate to sound alone, as if to make sense of it. The footsteps had again halted though this time before my lodging. A heavy, labored breathing reverberated into my room. Like that of a large male having ran for an extended period of time. It continued with the breathing, even growing increasingly louder by the minute. I shrunk into the covers then like a child afraid of what lurks under his bed at night to his unseeing eye. Still the breathing continued, and got loud enough to the point that it felt as if it began to actually shake the room. A fit of madness felt as if it were coming on to me, and with some mustering I managed to yell. Finding courage in madness I cried fourth, begging who was pestering me so.
The breathing faltered, becoming tame, though still apparent. And as if to answer my cry, a brutish force of some sort pounding the door quickly in rapid succession, as if knocking, albeit fiercely. The rapping ceased however, and I dared not move to see what had been so persistent in grabbing my attention, let alone even venture from the bed. My eyes were wide with fear, the color had long since left my features, when suddenly the worst part of the whole ordeal came. A hideous, gnarled cackling came from the other side of the door. In the deep voice of an older male figure, and with it the heavy footsteps trudged back down the hallway.
The laughter...it still rings in my ears when I'm alone at night. If only it could be heard, for it cannot be described in mere word how frightful and hideous it truly was. Shivering from fear, but daring not to move, I drifted off into sleep again. This time undisturbed by frightful events.
That was my first night at the strange Hessian House, though unfortunately not my last.
-To be continued.
Though I knew little about the mansion I'd be hence-fourth staying in, and even less about the odd family whom had claimed the place as home for years; I had somewhat prepared for such a venture of eeriness. For it was true, all I knew of the Hessians was that they were fabled to be indeed odd, reclusive and perhaps even morbid. Still nothing could have prepared me for what began to slowly crawl into view.
The loathsome building stretching it's twin spires to the choking sun, and the entire lot of the place seemed to be darker than the path I now stood on. It was as if the clouds them selves worked to protect the sun from the visage of the intimidating dwelling. Time seemed to slow as I gazed upon the lot, reality seeming to fade into a monochrome two-tone of gray. The wind seemed to barely blow past the heavy looking gate before me, mysteriously slightly ajar, and completely without any welcoming gesturing, smiles, or personnel period. Not a thing moved except the too slow, too subtle rustling of the unkempt shrubbery.
The walkway leading to the ominous domain was weather beaten, fading and as lifeless as its surroundings. I could make out no movement or activity from the darkened windows either. It would seem as if the place were altogether abandoned.
Reality slowly snapped back into place like the piece of a puzzle, and the world begin to slowly trickle with color again about my feet as I looked down to see dandelions blowing about. Trying to ignore everything in my better judgment, I picked up my belongings and journeyed to the large oaken front door. My rapping of the door nearly echoing in the ghostly quiet little garden of the estate.
Growing impatient after no report from my knocking, I decided to chance my earlier notion of the place being abandoned. Pushing on the door it gave with some effort and slowly, and noisily creaked open about a foot or so. If what the exterior had shown seemed bleak and desolate, the interior could only surely be called grim. Pale, dying sunlight snuck through the thin gray curtains of the foyer illuminating a washed out white room complete with wooden floorboards. Fear truly clenched my neck as I stepped foot into the structure, said floorboards creaking loudly under my fairly slender frame. In the center of the rather large room sat a neat porcelain topped table. A vase of withering red roses atop it alongside a small waxen sealed envelope.
Without knowing how I knew this was meant for my eyes to gather, and as such an eagerness came to my hands as I tried to unseal the thickly coarse paper without damaging it too badly. The eagerness held was that of hoping that there may be an explanation of the state of my new home, and it's complete lack of a welcoming party.
Finally retrieving the crisply folded parchment, my eyes poured over it's contents, and nearly as quickly as it'd came, all hope in warmth and welcoming drained from my mind like the color from my face. The note was penned in a fine, clean hand, it's contents empty of emotion and all feeling. It read...
"We've expected your arrival Mr. Chambers, however unexpected events have forced our hand out of reach of this estate. I trust you will be able to take care of yourself well enough, learn the way about our home while we are away. Your guest quarters will be the furthest room down the hallway from the stairs upon the second floor. All other rooms upon that floor are strictly off limits to you due to privacy reasoning. You will find them locked tight, and they are not to be disturbed. You will also find enough provisions to last you from going hungering until our return in the cookhouse.
-J. Hessian."
My previous assumption of my being alone here would have seemed correct. The common sense of a still sane man tried to birth its way to the surface of my mind, screaming for me to turn tail here and now, and nay glance a sideways look back. My legs begged for me to allow them to carry me as swiftly as they could back down the sunny trail they'd carried me here on. However, given the circumstances of my situation, that would have been impossible, as there was simply nowhere else to go to.
Feeling more fatiqued than hungered I'd decided it'd be within my best interest to at least acquaint myself with the lodging I'd reluctantly be spending much of my time hence-fourth within.
The staircase leading to the second floor proved noiser than the floor below it, and the hallway leading to the back room, my room was long and unnerving. I'd stopped before reaching my destination to try the written word of my host, wiggling a doorknob casually near my own. As had been promised, it was locked. This I thought strange, but shrugged and proceeded to my quarters.
The room that sprawled before me had felt surprisingly cozy despite the deeply seated dread the rest of the place instilled in me. It was a spacious wooden finished room, complete with already burning lamps. A large, comfortable looking bed beckoned me from it's center. Looking from it out behind myself into the hallway, it's blackness threatening to swallow my sanity if I peered too closely, or too much longer. A chill ran down my spine, as I shut the heavy door behind me, making sure to quickly bolt and lock it as so. A weight felt as if it had been lifted from my being in that action. I dropped my few bags of belongings, kicked off my dirty boots and climbed gingerly into the embrace of the bed and its linens. The short journey until that point had proved too much for me, and I'd quickly found my way into a deep slumber.
Though I'm not sure how long I'd been lost in a dreamland, I awoke to the unmistakable din of heavy footsteps plodding down the long hallway outside. The sounds echoing through the otherwise stillness of the house, with the loudly creaking floorboards. Surely my host or hosts could not have arrived back so soon, after leaving such a bevy of food behind for me to sate myself on I thought to myself. Frozen with apprehensiveness and fear. Fear of what at the time I did not know, but fear it was all the same. I was not given too much more time to ponder things as the footsteps continued down the hallway toward my room. I'd been so wrapped up in reasoning and dismay that I'd hardly even noticed them stop in the first place.
What came next would be a completely unseen event that would haunt my nightmares for years to come. An event that forced the mind to conjure vividly grotesque imagery to associate to sound alone, as if to make sense of it. The footsteps had again halted though this time before my lodging. A heavy, labored breathing reverberated into my room. Like that of a large male having ran for an extended period of time. It continued with the breathing, even growing increasingly louder by the minute. I shrunk into the covers then like a child afraid of what lurks under his bed at night to his unseeing eye. Still the breathing continued, and got loud enough to the point that it felt as if it began to actually shake the room. A fit of madness felt as if it were coming on to me, and with some mustering I managed to yell. Finding courage in madness I cried fourth, begging who was pestering me so.
The breathing faltered, becoming tame, though still apparent. And as if to answer my cry, a brutish force of some sort pounding the door quickly in rapid succession, as if knocking, albeit fiercely. The rapping ceased however, and I dared not move to see what had been so persistent in grabbing my attention, let alone even venture from the bed. My eyes were wide with fear, the color had long since left my features, when suddenly the worst part of the whole ordeal came. A hideous, gnarled cackling came from the other side of the door. In the deep voice of an older male figure, and with it the heavy footsteps trudged back down the hallway.
The laughter...it still rings in my ears when I'm alone at night. If only it could be heard, for it cannot be described in mere word how frightful and hideous it truly was. Shivering from fear, but daring not to move, I drifted off into sleep again. This time undisturbed by frightful events.
That was my first night at the strange Hessian House, though unfortunately not my last.
-To be continued.
