Halloween I.F. – “Going Dark” – Day 16

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Shit. Shit. The mirror entity was coming, they couldn’t remember if they’d left the cellar open or not—or if something else had opened it—and they hadn’t even remembered to bring another beer in offering. They’d completely blanked on that. They were down here with no offerings and two possible threats, one on either side.

Fern did the only thing that seemed common sense. 

They bolted.

They hit the door to the stairs—then abruptly remembered they were trying to befriend the mirror entity. Nevertheless, they didn’t turn and look back. Wasn’t sure what they’d see and didn’t want to find out. 

But… neither did they want to just flee and not do any outreach.

What ended up coming out of their mouth, as a result, was a garbled, half-shrieked, “Please see my note! Get back to me! I’ll be back at the radio soon!! Let me know your thoughts! I thrive on feedback!”

And then they were running up the stairs as fast as they could, slamming the stairwell door behind them and leaning on it. Pressing it shut as if they could hold it closed against invading forces, they found themself shaking like a leaf. That hand hadn’t been human. It really hadn’t. It had resembled a human hand but had been wrong, twisted in a way that their mind tried to skip over when they thought about it.

Even as they shook, they found themself smiling. I thrive on feedback. What had that been? This wasn’t their outro to their podcast, it was real life. Absolute nonsense, they thought at themself almost dreamily, pinching their own cheek to force themself to stop grinning wildly. Don’t be excited about monsters, they told themself.

Too bad the basement door didn’t have a lock. They weren’t that lucky. At some point they’d probably have to go down there and at least lock the cellar, but in the meantime, they wished they could reduce the risk of something coming up. But what if they needed something from the cellar at some point? They only had Bannick’s word that it was a threat, but… well, no, they only had his word. Did they trust Bannick? Fern wasn’t sure. 

Irrelevant for now, though. No going back for a little while. They’d give the mirror entity (Bannick? Had that been Bannick? Or was it something else?) time to read their note.

Fern took a few deep breaths, counting as they let them out, before forcing themself to stand away from the door. It didn’t move, so they had to presume they weren’t being followed. Perhaps the mirror entity didn’t have run of the house. Or perhaps it was just waiting, lurking, so that Fern would believe that.

No way to know and no point tying themself in knots, they thought firmly. They had another note to deliver anyway.

This one they might as well bring the beer with. If they wanted to try to balance things out, better be even-handed. They got two cans out from the fridge; one of these, they left outside the door that led down to the basement, just in case the entity did come back up. The other, they could take to the pine tree.

On their way out past the living room, they hesitated. The pictures in the photo frames might help the woman in the wardrobe—Fern just wasn’t sure it’d be enough, not without a name or details. Better than nothing. They could grab those later, and hopefully supplement them with some kind of information taken from the woman’s personal belongings. Not for the first time, they wished they could reverse image search the photos, but the lack of internet stymied them.

The note first, either way. Time to focus up, Fern. They headed outside, beer in one hand, note in the other, tools and spike in their pocket. It was a colder day today, almost unpleasantly brisk, leaves crunching underfoot, though the pine was of course still fresh and green.

The stick that Fern had jammed into the stake-hole had somehow transformed into a branch overnight. It hadn’t yet grown needles, but was twisted a little upward, forming something almost hand-shaped, though with the wrong number of twigs for fingers. It looked like a perfect place to leave their note, protected from the elements by the curves.

Yet as they approached, the tree almost seemed to cringe from them. At the same time, their hoodie pocket seemed to grow heavy. Their heart sank along with it. It had to be the spike.

Fern ducked down to leave the can of beer at the base of the tree, then rose again, almost experimentally. The offering hadn’t made a difference to this; their hoodie pocket had grown even heavier, making it nearly a struggle to stand. Almost in wonder, they touched it, feeling the shape of the iron spike through the cloth. 

If it had been used to seal the tree entity inside, maybe it was reacting somehow…? Maybe, Fern thought, they wouldn’t be able to interact with the tree entity while they had it on them. If that were the case, it’d be impossible to befriend this entity while holding it.

On the other hand, that meant maybe the tree entity wouldn’t be able to interact with them, either. It might keep them safe from the potential threat the tree represented.

They hesitated, unsure of what to do. Try to jam the note in even as the tree cringed from them and risk damaging it somehow? Leave well enough alone and assume the tree was simply out of the equation from now on? Briefly put the stake further away so they could approach to put the note in safely? Or something else altogether?

[Comment below with a suggestion for Fern. 

My b about missing the beer last time. I forgor.]

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