Halloween I.F. – “Going Dark” – Day 10

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Fern’s gaze travelled back to that spike. The angle of the head seemed like Fern would be able to use the back of the claw hammer to pry the spike out, if they wanted to. It’d take a little bit of elbow grease, but shouldn’t pose a problem.

It was definitely iron, and the only iron they’d seen so far—still not sure if it was cold, but they could always put it in the freezer and see if fairy tale bullshit rules held. Or they could try to find a steam iron somewhere in the house. That they were less sure of; they hadn’t seen one by the washer/dryer, and that’s where they assumed it’d be if the owner had provided one. 

Those were the sort of things that might be relevant if any of the ghosty stuff was real, anyway, which they certainly weren’t willing to assume on the basis of misplacing a bowl of beer.

They touched the spike gently, as if testing. Firmly in there, that was for sure, but yeah, sticking out enough they didn’t think would be an issue. On an impulse, they touched the sap as well—but it was definitely sap, not beer. Tree blood, they thought, and felt a little bad for the tree again, though they doubted it could feel pain. Yet despite that, their heart ached unexpectedly.

…Well, they didn’t need to decide right away. They didn’t super want to carry a railway spike with them on their walk, anyway, so they could decide when they were back if they should pull it out.

Fern headed down the path, heading west toward the river. It was a beautiful morning for it, the sun shining, birds singing, leaves crunching underfoot. The trail was fairly visible, but… well, narrow. Fern was delighted to be taking it during the day, but glad they hadn’t taken it in the evening yesterday. It would be much, much easier to lose their way on it in the dark.

It took about forty-five minutes to reach the river, but was well worth the trip. The river was wide, far too wide to cross without a vessel, but the sunlight glittered off it, and the soft sound of the water and the wind through the trees made a soft harmony to each other. The rocks that lead down to it had large, flat surfaces that were warmed by the sun. Fern flopped down on one and just let themself relax for a long moment, the tension leeching from their muscles. Maybe they could take their laptop out here tomorrow with a packed lunch and do some writing if the weather was still good. It felt like it’d be great for focus.

They spent a while just relaxing, enjoying the atmosphere, snacking on their cereal and sipping water. A good distance upstream, they could just make out the silhouette of someone fishing. Maybe another cottager. They were too far away to talk to, a distant speck of a person, but when Fern waved, they waved back. 

Good to know it wasn’t totally isolated out here. Not that Fern anticipated needing company, but it was nice to have some sense of what direction to go if something came up, even though the other cottage would be some ways up the road.

They gazed at the river and found themself thinking, absurdly: Running water is protection from vampires. No vampires here, though, unless they really liked beer instead of blood, at which point they were probably not a threat. Maybe it was protection from other spirits too, though? They weren’t sure exactly what to do about that if so, but looking at it was at least good for their heart. 

If there was a theoretical—which, Fern thought, meant non-existent—river spirit, they could make an offering. For luck, at least. They scrounged around in their embarrassingly salty pockets and pulled out the galvanized screw. It was shiny, at least, and still wasn’t iron, so they shrugged, throwing it in. “Take this offering,” they intoned, unable to take themself seriously. “In return, I ask for your aid and protection.”

Nothing happened, which is exactly what Fern expected. Nobody even offered them a silver or gold screw in return. Letting the folk tales down.

That was enough of that, they supposed. They packed everything back up, and headed to the cabin. Once it was in sight, they let out a breath, just glad the path had been equally fine to travel in the daytime when returning. They texted Adrian a quick follow-up, I’m back! 

They hesitated again by that pine, though. 

Should they do it? Pull the stake out to keep some iron on them, or leave it in there?

And regardless of that choice, what next? They could do just about anything—go explore that locked room, focus up on work, or something else altogether.

[Comment below with a suggestion for Fern. ]

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