Halloween I.F. – “Going Dark” – Day 11

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The iron spike probably wasn’t any good for the tree anyway, not if it was leaking sap.

Fern took out their hammer and carefully wedged it against the tree. It couldn’t hurt to be careful—they were up on all their shots, sure, but tetanus aside, they weren’t gunning for an infected injury!

They did a few test presses, but surprisingly, given how the tree had started to grow around it,the spike slid remarkably smoothly with just a little pressure. They thought they’d really have to lean on it, so it was probably a good thing they hadn’t just slammed the hammer down and rocketed the spike at themself, they figured. It was honestly like the tree couldn’t wait to have the spike out. Which, like, mood, but it was still wild. 

More deliberate now, they leaned on it slow and careful, sliding the spike slowly out to clatter to the ground at their feet. As it fell, they almost staggered, almost bowled over by a sudden rush of triumph that they weren’t entirely sure they’d earned, a euphoric rush of emotion that threatened to choke them out. For some reason, there were tears on their face.

How absolutely absurd, they thought distantly, running their hoodie sleeve over their eyes. It took them a few long moments of ragged breathing to get themself back under control. And for some reason, it felt like it should have been worse, as if something had stopped it from completely taking them over.

Sap was leaking slowly, and they didn’t fancy leaving what was essentially an open wound exposed to moisture and bugs. Fortunately, there were plenty of fallen leaves and branches around, so they dug around until they found one about the size of the spike, along with some leaves to hold it in, and pressed it to the hole. They reached for the hammer to tap it—

There must have been some kind of slickness from the sap, though it had seemed sticky to them, because it felt exactly as if something inside the tree had grabbed the end of the stick and pulled it into place. 

They stared at that for a long moment, but couldn’t seem to bring themself to care, their heart still beating too fast from the euphoria of having the spike out. After a long moment, they reached down, covering their hand with their hoodie sleeve, and picked up the railway spike.

Once inside, they let out a long breath. The strong rush of wild emotion was fading rapidly. The situation still seemed odd, but they often read too much into things anyway, Fern figured. They put the spike on the counter next to the sink so they could wash it off later, as they changed out their water bottle and dropped off their mostly-empty cereal baggie. It was lunch time, but they’d snacked on enough cereal that they figured they could do that later. Washed their hands for good measure.

With the afternoon stretching ahead of them, they briefly considered writing, but there were too many mysteries left in front of them. Jingling the spare keys, they headed upstairs to the hallway.

For a moment, they eyed that second bedroom door and its sign. It was an obvious keep out, but nobody would know. Their nightmare echoed in their head, but that was just a nightmare.

They slid the key into the lock and turned it. It unlocked with a too-loud click.

Fern opened the door and entered, feeling a weird chill as if they were being watched. It made them clumsy, fumbling for the lights, but they came on with an alarming hum.

Nobody had entered this room for a long time. Clearly someone had come in here since the Victorian era—there was electric lighting, for one thing, so unless the original owners had been very ahead of the curve or very rich, it didn’t seem likely that it was fully in the initial state. But it looked Victorian-style, and was coated with a layer of dust and cobwebbing.

Fern slowly entered. It looked like it must have been a woman’s bedroom. One wall had a big wooden bed with a musty canopy on it, pillows piled high. At its foot was an ottoman, which Fern suspected had storage in it. There was a bureau with drawers, and a chiffonier. A washstand. A bedside table with a cupboard. Even a fireplace—they’d noticed the multiple chimneys but hadn’t realized one connected here. There was even a large, free-standing wardrobe, though this they noticed was sealed with a padlock, one with some kind of odd ornate design on the outside. They might have a key for that as well.

Every single surface was cluttered with the personal belongings of its owner, enough that they couldn’t even get a grasp of the room’s contents. A parabolic candle magnifier, a hair brush, a jewellery box—they’d need to take time to explore the room properly to figure out what all was here, let alone what was in various things or what it all meant. It could take days to really be sure they’d seen everything, though a high-level review wouldn’t be too bad. And it wasn’t like they needed to be thorough. This was all idle curiosity.

Where, they wondered, should they even start?

[Comment below with a suggestion for Fern. ]

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