Shadows

[buildingaspaceship]

1x1 between @NorbertM

 

[MarkNorbert]

Everyday seemed to be the same. Everything seemed to be the same ever since he got a job in London at a small tavern. Serve and watch people get drunk so bad they would fall off their chairs or worse, start a fight over the fact that their arms are stronger and they are more handsome. Although, interesting and funny to watch for the first time, doing so at a daily basis was not how Brynmor planned to spend his life in London.


Ever since the maiden he used to serve died from an unpleasant illness, he was forced to look for work. Since nobody wanted him as a servant, he dared look elsewhere, this elsewhere was taverns. If he had the chance to choose between this and being a servant, he would tell you he was better off as a servant. At least he had decent food to eat -sometimes-, a nice ceiling to stare at during the nights and you wouldn't have to worry about freezing to death. But now, everything changed.


When the tavern got closed, at nearly 1 in the morning, Brynmor didn't knew how to show how relieved he was. Sighing wasn't enough, jumping from joy wasn't either. Nothing seemed perfect to portrait the feeling, not like he cared anyways. Right now, all he wanted was to sleep. Put his head on something soft, even if it was made out of horrible quality, and drift slowly to the dreamworld. And that's what he did. He didn't had to walk much for the bed, it was right where he worked. His boss gave him a place to sleep if Brynmor accepted a lower pay. He always wondered how would his life have been if he would have gotten out of this piss hole.


When he got inside his room, if you could call it like that, he did nothing but let his body fall on the hard bed and at that moment, he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep, leaving his body in bed while he opened the gates of the dreamworld and walked inside for a new adventure.
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[buildingaspaceship]

Esther knelt on the cold floor of the empty room, the only light being the candle in front of her, casting shadows in every corner. Her bare and pale feet stuck out from underneath her dress, her palms together and her head bowed down to the crucifix nailed to the wall as she prayed for her soul, her sanity, and her mind. This was something she did as often as she could, often retreating into the small room and assuming this position. Though so far there had been no sign or change in Esther, she continued to pray in the hopes that it would rid her of this evil that she could feel caged inside her. In a quick motion, the candle in front of her blew out, as though someone had purposefully done it from the side of her. But there was no one else in this room, and no windows to let in a breeze. The hairs on the back of Esther's neck stood up, a chill running down her spine as she lifted her head, her eyes peering into the dark. She didn't make a sound, holding her breath, she stands slowly, when a scratching sound can be heard behind her. She turns quickly, letting out the breath she had been holding in a gasp. The scratching sound continues, behind her again, or above her? In her own head? Confused and frightened, Esther runs barefoot out of the small room and down the hall, into a much larger and more decorated room, before shutting the door behind her and locking it with a clang, she walks backwards to her bed, her eyes on the door, before she lets herself curl up into a ball on top of it, the scratching sound much fainter but still present. This is how she falls asleep.

 

[MarkNorbert]

What he hated the most about the dreamland was when he had to leave it. It was a mixed feeling of both anger and disappointment that he was having as he woke up, realizing that he wasn't feeling the hard bed touch as he remembered to do when he laid down on it not so long ago. Instead of that, he had a strange feeling of hard and cold. When he slowly opened his eyes, without wanting to do so that much, he had a strange point of view of the room that was so familiar to him. He recognized the table that was on the other side of the room, but suddenly, the table was literally so huge! He looked around more and realized everything seemed so huge for an unknown reason! But then, he saw the bed, with his leg, hanging on top of it.


Using his arms to lift his body up, he gained a better sense of his room. He scratched the back of his neck as he let out a big and long yawn. Then, the lovely feeling of stretching overwhelmed him, like a cold breeze washing on your face when its so hot outside that you would jump in the sea and remain there, letting the feeling of water touching your skin overtake you.


He got up, massaged his face and sank his palms into the bowl of water that was on the table. He slashed the water on his face, the cold water waking him up completely. He wiped the dropping water from his chin with his fingers and walked out of his room, opening the door wide open, like he wanted people to know that he woke up. He wanted others to care. One person cared. And he greeted him with joy.


"About time you woke up, you useless Welsh. Now get here, I got a task for you." the owner of the tavern yelled at him.


Brynmor frowned at the man's tone and attitude. Occasionally Brynmor would wonder what he would say if he would just smacked the back of his bald shining head staying on top of his apple silhouette, but he needed the money, so he had to suck it up and hang in there. Question was, how long could he resist before he loses his sanity and runs like a lunatic on the streets of London. He wondered.
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[buildingaspaceship]

Esther woke, her body cold and her breath showing in the air in a mist. Her house was always so cold, like this, if she forgot to light the fire. She stretches out of her ball on the bed, cracking her toes, then arms, then her neck as she sits upright. She hadn't dreamt, as usual, and as she inches towards the edge of her bed, dangling her legs over the side, she wishes for once that she could have the comfort of the dreams she had once had when she was younger. Stepping off the bed and into the cold wooden floor, Esther walks over to a large fancy bowl filled with fresh warm water probably put there by her housekeeper earlier in the morning. She splashes her face with the water and rubs her eyes before walking over to her wardrobe and pulling out a long black dress, with lace sleeves and a high lace neck. After getting changed into this elegant outfit, she walked downstairs, her head held high and her hair pinned tightly atop her head. Today, she was planning on going into town and going to the markets or watching a show in the theatre. Anything to get her thoughts away from this creature in her mind. Like a robot, Esther goes through her daily routines of morning, eating the meal laid out for her, and even though she was avoiding her home chapel, she prayed at her table instead.

 

[MarkNorbert]

Days passed fast, like an adventurer set upon a journey, set on discovering things, unseen by the world, things that many do not wish to know nor understand. A life of so much excitement that the hair on the back of your neck rises up as a crowd set upon the ground. But this feeling, these adventures, this thrilling life, is so far away to reach for Brynmor.


He always wondered how would it be if he would just get the hell out of his circle and wonder the world with no worries at all. But he can't do that. How can he, when his stomach growls with impatience, how can he, when he is feeling cold because of the lack of clothes, how can he, when his purse of coins is lighter than a man's pair of pants. He didn't want to discover the world that much. He heard stories about the world and he believes he is not ready for it, but he never stops to beg for a massive change in life, something to make it more interesting, something to make his heart pump fast inside his chest.


He lifted his fist and knocked on the wooden door in front of him. He waited, patiently and quiet, for a change. It didn't took much. The door swung open, revealing an old man with a massive gray beard and a strange pair of looking glasses.


"What do you want?" the old man asked.


"Sir, its me, Brynmor." he replied, his face, lit by confusion. "Do you not remember me?"


The man narrowed his eyes as they approached Brynmor fast. This approach made Brynmor uncomfortable, but in hell he would show it.


"Lad, that you?" the old man asked again. "Weren't you shorter? Did you got taller?"


"No sir. You must be mistaking me with another lad.", Brynmor corrected the man as he continued to speak, "I always was this tall."


"Whatever. Come on in. I bet the bald son of a bitch send you for my little special treat, eh?" the old man said, as he walked inside the building, followed by Brynmor. The interior of the building was a little bit dark because there wasn't that much light coming through the windows. Also, trinkets everywhere, the only way you could describe the room was messy. This man's house lacked a woman's touch. But who was he to judge? His room wasn't better either.


"You know, I told him that it's not ready yet, so it might take a while until I get it done." the old man said, moving some trinkets from one table to another.


It took Brynmor a couple of seconds to realize the old man was talking about his boss. Brynmor slowly nodded to the man's statement.


"You know, while you at it, care to help a little? It's not much, but,", the old man turned around and united his hands, forming a ball out of them. "I might need help with some heavy lifting. I need to get some stuff upstairs, I would have done it myself, but me back hurts so much."


While you at it eh, Brynmor thought. He couldn't do anything but nod and nod. It might take a while to get his task done, but he didn't care. One day not worrying about drunken idiots and their brawls.



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[buildingaspaceship]

Esther slaved for hours over the books, tracing lines over the well used pages with her finger, and with her other hand she wrote and rewrote each passage that could help her. Her body ached and her mind was clouded with thoughts that were opposite to her task. After a while, she put her hands flat on the desk in front of her and looked down at her bitten fingernails, an idiosyncrasy of hers when she was anxious or agitated, but also a hazard for she didn't want to hurt herself in the more extreme times.She clenches her fists and stands, feeling cooped up in the large and empty house. The walls were whispering to her, the rooms so empty of life but there was something lurking in each of them that did not have good intentions. It was lurking in her mind too. But she couldn't stay cooped up in this place forever.


She walked slowly from the room, her bare feet patting against the wooden floor, a sound that she found pleasing to her ears. She ran her fingertips over the dull and lifeless wallpaper, opening her mouth and singing a song that, though slightly disturbing, comforted her and reminded her of her childhood.


"There was a lady all skin and bone, sure such a lady was never known. It happened upon a certain day, this lady went to church to pray." Entering the dimly lit hall, she smoothed out her dress and looked down before continuing, slow step after slow step.


"When she came to the church stile, there she did rest a little while, when she came to the churchyard, there the bells so loud she heard." She thought she heard something, and turned her head to look where the noise had come from, before seeing her cat at the floor next to her. She leans down and picks him up, scratching his neck with her finger gently.


"When she came to the church door, she stopped to rest a little more, when she came the church within, the parson prayed against pride and sin." The sound sounds again, and is similar to that of nails on a blackboard. She turns, cat still clutched tightly in her arms as she walks, her eyes narrowed and her heart pounding, she only kept singing as a comfort and reassurance to herself.


"On looking up, on looking down, she saw a dead man on the ground, and from his nose unto his chin, the worms crawled out, the worms crawled in." She slowly approached the shut door of the room, and looked at the doorknob as she hesitated. She lets go of her cat, as it was struggling against her and meowing to be let down, and she watches it go curiously as it hurriedly moves away from the room. Looking back at the door, she rests her fingers on the doorknob and delicately turns it as she sings the final verse, slowly.


"Then she unto the parson said, shall I be so when I am dead?" She pushes the door open slowly, almost speaking the verse now "O yes! O yes, the parson said," the door was fully opened and as she gazed into the pitch black room, she tried to adjust her eyes to the light and see what had caused the noise. "You will be so... When you are... dead."





As she ended the song, she bit her lip as she prepared to step into the room, but before she could, a door slammed behind her from the other end of the hallway, and for a moment she was distracted, and looked that way instead of where the true, but unknown, danger was. It was all it took, a moment, as a cold leathery hand gripped around her wrist and pulled her into the darkness of the room, the door shutting behind her with the largest bang she had heard, leaving her alone in the dark.

 

[MarkNorbert]

"Thank you very much lad! You helped an old man today! Goodnight!"


Brynmor's eyes widen as the wooden door came closer to his face. It stopped, at a few centimeters in front of his face with a very loud bang and the sound of metal, which Brynmor assumed to be the old man locking the door. He stared at the door, illuminated by the moon's light, as he held a piece of paper with a recipe on it.


Are you bloody fucking telling me that I've wasted the whole day waiting for this old man to write a recipe on a piece of paper WHILE I worked my ass hard to bring his idiotic trinkets upstairs, Brynmor asked himself, with a harsh tune. It was the recipe for an ale! An ale! Done in under 10 minutes! Oh, how idiotic Brynmor was feeling. So idiotic that he shoved the piece of paper in his back pocket with anger, without caring if he would damage it, then walked like a thunder hit the ground, with anger inside of him.


He did that, walking angry on the streets of London, at night, without any difficulty. He was heading towards the tavern, to give his boss the recipe, listen to his idiocy and perhaps sleep in the room he remembered so dearly -not-. But the silence before the storm did not applied here, as it began to rain. Hard. Brynmor could hear the rain drops hit the ground, almost like in an symphony. It pleased Brynmor's ears, but it pissed him off that he was getting all wet. And he was getting cold.


He crossed his arms around his chest, then pressed his palms on his wet shirt, hoping to feel less cold. He walked like that, between the dark alleys of London, with ease and not knowing what awaits him. One particular alley got his attention. Grunts and low pleas of help were heard. Brynmor walked towards, not like he had a choice, since the tavern was in that direction, but Brynmor wondered what was going on in that alley. At first, he thought someone was getting raped, a low prostitute who found a violent man and couldn't handle it, but as he got closer, the grunts seemed, inhuman.


The closer he got, the more inhumanly sounds he heard. The bone cracking, the inhuman grunts, the sound of rain and no more pleas of help. When he passed by the alley, he stopped. He watched as two silhouettes stood in the dark. It took Brynmor some time to realize that there were two silhouettes, not one, because the one he saw, was incredibly huge.


The silhouette noticed Brynmor standing in front of the alley. Brynmor's eyes were as wide as they could possibly be. The pair of glowing yellow eyes were the only thing with color Brynmor could see. As the silhouette straighten itself, the other silhouette seemed to be nothing but a dust rag. This dust rag felt down, hard, on the ground, the sound echoing the alley. The inhumanly sounds were now changed, in a more sinister way. With the help of the moon's light, Brynmor could see the blood pouring out of the silhouette on the ground.


Almost like the other silhouette knew what Brynmor was looking at, since he quickly looked at the blood and then at the other silhouette, it kicked the second silhouette forward to Brynmor, revealing a woman. A woman who's body was all covered in blood, her clothes torn into piece, her face filled with horror and the wound on her right side. The wound that looked like someone, or something chewed her with its own teeth. Brynmor looked back at the other silhouette in horror, his heart, now easily heard, as it hit his chest with speed and power. The silhouette took one step forward and revealed her foot. Brynmor quickly looked at the foot, almost like he was so curious about it.


The foot was like a man's one. But it was dirty, covered in filth, its nails long, black and disgusting. Soon, it revealed its hand, which was similar to his foot. Covered in filth, with long, black nails, covered in blood. As it took another step forward, its face was now revealed to Brynmor. Disfigured, teeth so huge and covered in blood, like it was a cat's teeth. Its eyes, yellow. So yellow that you could tell it told you it was death itself. Its ears were long and bitten.


Brynmor, wasn't interested in seeing the whole thing. He excused himself, like it mattered and ran. He ran, so fast that it surprised Brynmor. His shoes echoed his steps in the rain, he dared not to look behind. He only ran and ran. Until a scream was heard. A scream so terrifying that it pierced Brynmor's heard and when he looked behind, Brynmor saw the monster. The monster that killed that woman, no, that tried to feast on her. It looked at Brynmor, like it was ready to attack. But it didn't. Instead, it walked back into the darkness. Brynmor was no longer curious about it as he turned around and ran as fast as he could.



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[buildingaspaceship]

Esther was trapped in the black room, and she banged on the door repeatedly with her cold fists. She rattled the doorknob, twisting it and turning it frantically as she felt the breathe of a creature on the back of her neck. Her hair stood on end and she could feel goosebumps all over her body, but she didn't dare turn around. She did not want to be faced with the truth of this thing that was hiding in the shadows. Her breathing was quick, her heart racing faster as she pressed her palm flat against the door hopelessly. The thing wasn't moving, wasn't making a sound, but she knew it was still there.


Gulping, she closes her eyes, not that it mattered with the dark, and said a prayer. Was it death that had come for her? Was this darkness hell? Had her body finally given in and sent her back to where she belonged? She was afraid. Death was the unknown, the mysterious and the certain, and it had come for her today. She turns slowly, her back pressed up against the wood of the door, and she opened her eyes slowly.


It was as though nothing had ever happened.


The room was lit, though dimly, no creature was to be seen, and all was peaceful. Esther's heart slowly goes back to normal, though her mind was racing with thoughts and confusion. She tried the handle to the door again, and this time the door opened slowly, revealing the dimly lit hallway that was untouched, the door across the hall still wide open as though it had never slammed. Esther turns back around quickly, confused and certain that she had not been imagining things, but that is when she notices the room she was in. The room with the desk, and the books. The room that she had left so shortly ago due to fatigue. She had never even left the room she was in. Her cat brushes against her leg, but she kicks him away gently as tears well up in her eyes. She was so very confused, and afraid. How could any of that have been imagined? Her head spinning, she moved to leave the room yet again, but instead of taking a step, she fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, banging her head on the wood, and her vision turned black.


-


When she woke, she was in her bed, tucked in neatly in her nightclothes. Her head ached with a dull pain, and her mouth and throat was dry. Her cat was curled up by her feet, and as she moved to sit upright, she felt a sharp pain in her wrist. She looks down at it to examine it, and almost yells in shock. There, where the monster had grabbed her wrist to pull her into that nightmare, was bruising, in the shape of long slender fingers.

 

[MarkNorbert]

When Brynmor arrived at the tavern, he was surprised to see his boss sleeping in a chair with a candle next to him and a cup of tea. He slept peacefully, without any worry. The man wondered why wasn't he in bed already? Was the man waiting Brynmor? Was he worried about him? Nonsense, he cared for his recipe of course. Why would he care for Brynmor?


Nonetheless, Brynmor arrived safely at the tavern, to his surprise, with no more encounters with the monster he saw. He was relieved. He didn't knew what would he do if he saw that creature again. Piss his pants before the creature devoured him without any mercy nor hesitation? Or maybe play with him a little before pushing its teeth in his flesh. Such thoughts made Brynmor shiver and because he was wet from the rain. He had to change his clothes and he had to dry the ones he wore today.


He walked towards the sleeping man and put the recipe in his lap, carefully to not wake him up. Afterwards, he walked in his room before he grabbed a set of dry clothes and changed. There was nothing else to do but to sleep. However, he couldn't sleep. The thoughts in his mind about the creature bursting into the room and killing him flew through his mind. Or that he was sitting in a dark corner and watched Brynmor as he tried to sleep. This was to be a very difficult night for him.




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[buildingaspaceship]

She had drifted in and out of sleep all night, her dreams dark and event-less, but she could feel something wrong with the room that she was in. Esther pulled the blankets in tightly around her, watching through the window as the first light of morning cracked. The little light shone into the room in small rays, causing lines across the floor. It took her a few moments to gather the courage to stand and get out of bed, but when she did, she kept the blanket around her shoulders, and walked slowly across the room and over to the window.


Looking through it, the sights were much the same as any other time of the year, or the day. People busy in the streets selling and buying, both their bodies and their wares. Esther leaned against the wall and put her fingers against the latch of the window. She wanted to go out today, but where could a woman like her go where there would not be trouble? She seemed to be a magnet for the dark and mystical, or maybe she herself was the dark? She narrows her eyes and moves away from the window, dropping the blanket from around her and feeling a shiver run up her spine at the cold air. Dressing quickly, she makes sure to wear a dress that covered the long finger like bruises around her wrist, then walks downstairs.


What day was it? She didn't know these things being cooped up inside so much, and she wasn't the one to keep a calender. Slipping on her coat, she had no second thoughts as she walked out of the door and onto the busy streets, feeling the cold air nip at her cheeks, but the sun made her squint to see the world around her.

 

[MarkNorbert]

In his horror state of mind, he found the peace he needed to manage to close his eyes gently and slept without a worry in the world. He was sitting on his bed, his back to the wall, like he was trying to get a better view of his room that way, to see what was coming at him. And in that state, he felt asleep. The light dimmed in his room as the candle's light slowly faded away, in it's final attempts, to bright up the room as it usually did.


Only the morning light managed to open his eyes. The light scattered on his face in a playful way, enjoyable and beautiful at the same time. When his eyes were fully opened, he scanned the area only to find nothing but his room, left in the same way it was last night. He covered his face with his palm and yawned. Massaging his nose bridge slowly, he tossed his blanket aside and got up from his little fortress. He washed his face with the cold water from his room and then left his room.


Once outside, his boss immediately yelled at him. Brynmor braced himself for a long fifteen minutes of yelling from the bald man. He stood there, in silence, sometimes listening what the man was saying, sometimes ignoring him completely. He tried to distract himself by looking at the man's nose. It worked. Most of the times.


When the man finished yelling, he muttered a few words which Brynmor knew they were nothing but swears and then, as a punishment, he gave Brynmor a series of tasks to complete outside the tavern. Great, more of this crap, Brynmor thought, but only nodded to the man. When the man finished what he had to say, he threw Brynmor out of the tavern. To get back inside, Brynmor had to complete these stupid tasks. He didn't even have breakfast.

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