Chapter 1, page 3
The desk was of a large size, with only some pens set in a stand and awaiting use, the rest of the desk being vacant, even of papers and a placard. It was made with an expensive looking wood and was left with only treatment. He marveled at the red of the wood, continuing to spread his amazement when took in the back wall. Shelves upon shelves were filled with books of all sizes and colors, differing ages from ancient to fresh f the press. He moved farther in, taking in the sight with a hitch in his breath as he saw the shelves extend even more. The room had chairs spread to certain points, usually in corners or around the one table at the end of the room. Daniel suspected that the length ran to the front of the house. He then saw the that there was a walkway along the top of the room with a ladder reaching it. The amount of books continued to impress in just how many there could be.
Never had he seen a library so large that also happened to be completely private. He wondered how many books were here and how long it would take him if he did nothing else but read them, appropriating their contents for his own. He shook his head violently for a few seconds, pushing the idea of staying to read instead of exploring a bit more out of his mind. He still wanted to see what else there was in the house, leaving with depression in his step. Soon enough, he reassured himself. He closed the doors that he followed in, not wanting to tempt himself while he had places to see.
He turned around, eyeing another door attached to the end of a section of wall that was jutting out from the rest of itself. He went over, uneasy with seeing what lay hidden within. He pulled the door open and saw a set of stairs leading down into darkness. He figured this are to be a cellar or basement, but the mundane name was not fitting for what he thought it felt like: nothingness. The rest of the house was filled with light and could easily be navigated but this room… this room seemed to require a set of high-power lights just to begin piercing the darkness. He closed the door, not wanting to go anywhere near it without at least a crowd of people accompanying him. He pushed it out of his mind, the existence of the room sending shivers across his body.
Now’s a good time to look upstairs, he thought, putting the idea into motion with a single step. He climbed the stairs on the den side of the mansion, the carpet beneath his feet making every step feel soft. It brought comfort to him, if only subconsciously. He saw doors set in a proper placement, spaced evenly around the mansion for the second floor. He checked the door closest to the front of the house on the side of the den, unable to make it budge in any capacity. He threw himself at it, bound and determined to see what was to be kept hidden from him. It didn’t even rattle in it’s frame, steadfast beyond his comprehension. He stopped, hurting his shoulder from the fourth attempt. He cursed the door, checking it’s neighbor.
The door moved much open much more easily. He had been prepared to shoulder the door but the fact that it opened so easily disarmed him and made him begin to question if it was okay to enter. He stood in the doorway, observing that the room had three beds, each spread apart evenly along one wall, the feet facing him. The beds were just as unique as the chairs in the dining room. He wondered if the two were related in some way, brushing it aside as he felt something in the room. There was a presence, but not one that he knew to be from a person occupying the room. He couldn’t put it to words, but it felt comfortable, almost as if it wished no true ill will toward him. He closed the door, wishing not to intrude any further than he had.
He checked the neighbor and also encountered a similar situation. The beds were only set at two, but the properties they had were just as different as the last. Here, the presence seemed to be intrigued by him. He moved on, checking two more doors and seeing that the room beside the last had a similar set up with the design of the beds, though the rooms still varied between two and three beds. The presence he felt in each was just as different, yet they all wished no true evil against him from what he could feel. He came to the last door, unsure of what he would see on the other side. He prepared himself for another bedroom.
He pushed it open and saw… a crib, a rocking chair not too far from it while facing a window. He felt great sadness emanating from the room, putting more and more weight on his shoulders as he looked inward. He stared outside, the sun lower than it had been since his arrival. He could almost hear a baby’s cry from the crib. He took one step in, looking in each corner to find out if the room was truly as barren as it seemed. He saw to his right, hidden in the corner that was itself hiding behind the door, a mobile. It looked ancient, hand-made even, but its age was not reflected in its decay (of which there was none) but instead in its design. The crib was just as affected as the mobile. The rocking chair was a different story altogether. It looked ready to become dust at any second. He left, wishing to never step foot near the room for awhile yet.
I figured it was time to reveal the next (unedited) page of the story. I certainly hope everyone is enjoying what they’re seeing so far. As always, if you want to see this story become fully realized, then why not spare some change at my patreon here so that I can pay my cover artist and editor. Thanks for reading and have a wonderful day.
