This is a continuation of this story.
-————————————————-
The rain pattered against the window there in the darkness. The intense silence breathed in the night, choking out everything that moved. I stood there gazing out into the nothingness. It had been years since I had that dream, yet it still haunted me, following me. There it stood, sitting in the corner of my vision on my worst nights, on others it spoke to me. It also so seemed that the man had followed me, as the home I had moved into had a large portrait of a blurry faced man with long silver hair. As the house settled, I continued to watch the rain as it passed through the beam of light that shone out of the study window. The small patch of grass I could see was slick with rain and it glistened. Perhaps it was a metaphor, or some other message meant for me, I never knew. I felt a presence there, suddenly, in the dark corner of the room where the flickering candles did not reach.
“Hello?”
No response.
“Who are you?”
My question was met with more silence. I couldn’t tell who or what was there, if anything. The restless nights were starting to get to me. I closed my book, grabbed the key to the study, and slowly stepped towards the door. The hardwood flooring creaked with every step I took, as if the house itself was taking in every movement, every sound. I walked out of the study and turned around to place my key in the wrought iron lock that rested upon the thick wooden door. As I pulled the door slowly closed, I saw yet again the shadowy figure in the corner of my vision through the glass pane in the door. It did not move towards me, nor did it appear to do anything, it simply stood there waiting, watching.
You. I see you. I follow you. I love you and I hate you. Why are you here? What do you want from me? Have you come to finally put me to rest?
I jumped at the sound of the voice. I couldn’t hear it well, it was little more than a whisper, it was speaking directly to me. I gazed around the hallway that led away from the study and didn’t see anyone. The sparse lighting of the sconces on the walls with their dwindling candlelight illuminated the tapestries and paintings that lined the hallway.
No, who is following you? What are they doing here? Why have you brought them here?
No, no, no, no, no…
WHY HAVE YOU COME BACK? YOU ABANDONED US!
The voice was screaming at me, but at the same time it was fading away into my subconscious, as if something was pulling it away to silence it. I shook my head, regathered my thoughts, and began pacing down the hallway. I knew that this manor had a long and complicated history, but I had no idea of just how complex it was. Many years ago, over 250, an Englishman by the name of Alabastor had paid for the construction of the manor and the surrounding property. His portrait sat in my study, the painting of the man with a blurry face. He and his wife had moved to the countryside after a long, successful life of trading and operating warehouses. From the small bits of his writing that had survived time, I gleamed that he was a simple and honest man who wished only to provide for his family and to live out his days as he had always done. There was comfort in knowing he watched over this place, in a sense. Yet every night I constantly felt that sinister gaze upon me, when I was in my study, when I was writing, even when I slept. Some nights it was particularly terrible, I would hear the moaning and wailing of things in the halls, the cries of those who had been lost. I had inherited this place from my long-lost great grandfather, who had recently passed. He had lived out much of his life just as Alabastor had, alone, after the passing of their wives.
I had finally made it to the end of the hallway without realizing, as I had been deep in thought. I hoped tonight wouldn’t be like the others. I had only been in the place for a week, and I seemed to discover new things every day. The hidden garden that was miles out in the woods where it never seemed to become overgrown. The abandoned stables far on the back of the wooded property. Even the library down in the cellar, which had more books than any reasonable person could read in a lifetime. There was a rich history here of those who came before me, and I was determined to uncover it as the days passed by. But for now, the day had come to an end as the night grew older, so I washed up and readied myself for bed.
The grand four-poster bed stood in the middle of the back wall in the master bedroom, to the right of which were two large windows, outset so that you could stand in the small space and look out upon the property. I was tired, and the soft bedding beckoned me towards it, to rest and forget the events of the night. As I laid down upon the bed, I gazed up towards the ceiling, noticing patterns in the boards and beams that crossed the length of the roof. The longer I gazed, the more my vision began to swim as I passed into the world of dreams.
I found myself looking at a piece of clouded glass, where on the other side stood two figures who I couldn’t make out, though I could faintly hear their voices.
“Well, he’s certainly had an eventful night, wouldn’t you say, dear?”
“Most definitely, what do you think he will make of it?”
“I can’t be sure; however, I assume he will handle it well.”
The conversation bounced back and forth between a male and female speaker. Their voices were light and kind, with every word seeming to hold meaning in its own way.
“I reckon it’s almost time for him to move on, wouldn’t you say?”
“Indeed, off you go then, and mind you keep your head on straight!”
The last comment was clearly directed towards me, and as I stepped forward to place my hand upon the glassy surface, I found myself plunging into a milky sea of vapor. I could hear a whirlwind around me as if I was being picked up by the wind itself. As the cloudy cover began to dissipate, I was left standing on a rocky path in a forest. The moon was glowing bright above me, lighting the trail deeper into the trees. I followed the path carefully, making sure not to trip or stumble over the bits of debris and loose branches that were scattered all over the place. I walked for quite some time further into the woods, hearing the occasional hooting of an owl and the cawing of a raven.
After some time, I stood at the entrance to a small clearing with a pond in it. Lily pads decorated the surface, and beautiful wildflowers of various blues and purples lined the outer ring of the pond. Something was swimming just below the surface, so I moved closer to look upon it. Standing there at the precipice, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. A shiver went down my spine as I felt something breathing behind me. I stood there for a minute not daring to turn around until I finally managed to convince myself to face whatever it was. Yet, when I turned around, nothing was there. I looked towards the edge of the forest but found nothing. On edge, I turned back to the pond. The water had grown still and whatever was under the surface of the dark water had stopped moving just near where I was. I began to take a step towards the ring of flowers when I heard a voice coming from the far side of the clearing.
“I would stop there, were I you. What lies in that ring is there for a reason.”
With those words, the creature began thrashing in the water, as if it couldn’t move any further but it yearned to pull me into the depths. The water bubbled and frothed as the creature began to settle down again, and I averted my eyes from the now still surface.
A figure very similar to the one that followed the edge of my vision around my new home stood just outside the light at the edge of the clearing.
“You are wise to heed my advice. I know of another who has spoken with you before, and you owe us now that we have saved you twice.”
I began to try and speak back to the figure, to say that he had not saved me but warned me, but no words came out of my mouth. It was as if I had forgotten entirely how to speak or communicate in any form. So, I chose instead to move towards the dark area where the voice spoke from. The figure danced away as I approached, moving away from me as I grew closer.
“Oh no, we should keep our distance, too much influence from our kind is never a good thing.”
The more the voice spoke, the more clearly I could make out features. It was most definitely a woman’s voice, and it possessed an almost melodic tune. Her figure was thin and light, but I couldn’t make out much more detail due to the shadow enveloping her.
“I would like to present you with a choice, if you would follow the trail you skipped over just near where I stand.”
As she spoke, I noticed the trees unweaving their branches to reveal yet another trail that led further into the ever-darker forest. I began to follow the pathway as she gestured forwards, and I could feel her presence behind me as I approached a fork in the road.
“I believe the quote goes:
‘Two roads diverged in the woods, and I-
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference.’
It really is a beautiful piece of poetry, and I see that you will find it more relevant now than ever. These roads will lead you to grand places, so which will you take?”
The road on the left led further towards a lighter section of the forest with some kind of odd birch trees that seemed to stretch into the sky before their golden leaves slowly faded out of view. The leaves glittered up in the night sky like brilliant stars, each twinkling as I watched.
The road on the right led to what seemed to be an ocean, with a single dock extending out from the black sand beach. The waves crashed up against the shore, leaving behind foam as the waves walked back out to sea. Various sharp and jagged shells were scattered around on top of the sand, with new ones appearing and old ones being whisked away with each new wave.
Both paths called to me in their own sense. The golden leaves spoke to my curious nature, as I wondered if I could reach up and pluck some of the leaves were I to climb high enough. The black sand on the beach spoke to my love of the unknown. As I looked between the two paths, I began to take notice of a very wild looking trail that seemed to go directly between the two, though I couldn’t tell where it led.
The woman seemed to take notice of this yet did not speak. She gestured again for me to move forwards and make a choice. I chose to move through the brush and shrubbery to gain access to the derelict trail. As I was just about to step onto the trail I turned around to face the figure, and tripped on the root of a tree, I began to fall towards where the woman stood. It felt like I was there falling for hours, and as I was falling I noticed the woman’s face become slightly clearer. She looked quite like one of the paintings in the hallway outside the study, but before I could make the connection I slammed into the ground.