Witches Tale 2

Mabel had been trying to not think about what she had done. The thing that had caused her to pack up her life and toss it into a backpack. The life before didn’t exist anymore. It was now little vignettes of checking into an hourly hotel to shower, grabbing something to eat from a gas station buffet, or stealing a new disguise from from a department store. She tried not to look into the eyes of anyone, afraid that they might tell she was on the run, and then inform her pursuers where she was. Someone had to have been telling on her, how else did they know where to find her? They always kept Mabel looking for a new town, and she had just run out of towns to hide in.

The last town she was in was on the edge of the wilderness. Everything beyond it was uncharted territory. Mabel looked at her wrinkled map as she sat over her meal in a diner. Red X’s covered all of the towns she had used. There were no names left on it. All that was left was the edge of the map, the unknown. She took a bite out of the greasy burger and wiped a bit of ketchup off her cheek. As she chewed on the sandwich, Mabel hoped that she could make it beyond the map, that maybe the others wouldn’t think to look for her there. If it was empty and soulless, there wouldn’t be anyone to tell on her. She swallowed the meat and as she started to take a sip from her pop, she heard the warning sound that told her it was time to go.

The sound was less a sound and more a feeling. Her life of running had given her a second sense on when it was time to go. And the warning feeling was blasting high-alert in her head. She grabbed her green canvas backpack, threw some money on the table and ran out the back door. The fog hit her as she exited the building, mist coated her in a cool wet blanket. The lights in the parking lot had halos around them as she peered around the corner of the building. Some headlights appeared in the lot. She turned and headed into the woods behind the diner.

Inside the woods, everything was behind a vale of a gray cloud. The edges of the trees and ground were faded making it feel as if she was running through a dream. The trunks of the trees were dark brown and black from the moisture in the air. The moisture entered her lungs as she ran, filling them with water, causing her to cough. Inside the foggy forest every sound seemed to fall flat, yet she had to stifle her cough in case the others heard it. She was running blind, peering behind her shoulder to look for the tell tale signs of flashlights. Mabel knew what they would do if they caught her, so she pumped her legs harder and ran deeper into the woods.

Time in the forest seemed to stand still for Mabel. It felt as if she were running on a large treadmill with fake trees that popped up along the track. The only way for her to tell if any time had pass was the growing pain in her lungs and the aching in her leg muscles. Nothing else changed; tree trunks appeared out of the mist and disappeared behind her into the mist. But, she couldn’t tell if she had made any progress, if she had been running for an hour or just ten minutes. Could they be hidden in the fog behind her, slowly following her, waiting for her to get tired and then pop out to catch her in their net? Maybe they were in front of Mabel, digging a hole and filling it with razor wire and sharpened sticks, waiting for her to impale herself as they fill it back up with dirt? She pushed herself harder, and kept her eyes peeled for any possible traps. As vigilant as she thought she was, it shocked her when she came out of the woods and ran into large clearing with a massive house at the center.

Mabel stopped in her tracks at the sight of the mansion. It felt out of place in the middle of the woods. There were no signs of a driveway leading up to it. The house seemed to have been dropped here by a giant. She thought about turning around and going back into the woods, when she thought she heard someone calling out in the forest. Mabel crept over to a large tree and looked back and forth between the woods and the house. It felt like she was being watched from both directions. Yet there was only silence. Mabel sat on the wet dirt and leaned against the tree staring at the mansion. She felt something, a presence maybe, but there were no lights on in the house. It appeared to be abandoned. The wind bit at her skin and froze her wet clothes. As she shivered against the tree trunk, the mansion looked more appealing and worth checking out.

The fog and trees crowded around the edge of the perimeter of the clearing, as if afraid to get too close to the unnatural structure at the center. Grass in the clearing was not afraid, however, it grew long and full, grabbing at Mabel’s jeans. She looked up at the mansion, with its tower and gables, its black windows all focused on her. The windows reminded her of the hollow eyes that were behind her every step. They watched her, and waited with the expectancy she saw in junkies waiting for their heroin being cooked. Mabel hiked up her backpack and ignored them.

Chipped paint littered the wooden steps up to the house-sized front porch. They creaked at the pressure Mabel put on them as she lightly sprinted up the steps. The porch was bare and faded into the distance as it reached around the house. She bent down into the shadows of a pillar and watched the fog. Her heart pounded in her ears and she caught herself holding her breath. She wished the thick mist had been around the house to conceal her path. If they hadn’t seen her come up, she might be safe here for a while. They might have lost her in the woods and maybe they won’t notice the house. If she could get into the house, she could go up to the tower and watch the woods. If they did see her go to the house, maybe she could lose them in the large mansion. But, first she needed to get in.

The door was as tall as some of the diners she had eaten in. It towered over her, lost in the shadow of the top of the porch. Mabel touched the bowling ball sized handle and wondered if giants lived here. She started to turn the handle and then stopped. The thought of giants made her wonder if the house really was abandoned. Just because the lights were out didn’t mean it was empty. They could just be asleep. Mabel came up with an alibi about being lost in the woods and needing a place to get out of the cold until morning, just in case. A strange and distant howl broke the silence and Mabel decided giants would be better to deal with than what was out in the woods looking for her.

She struggled with the handle and her heart stopped as it didn’t budge. She put both hands on it and threw her weight into it. The knob cried out as years of rust began to crumble away. The bolt slowly pulled into the door and it began to move. Mabel pushed as hard as her body could and the large wooden door silently gave away, throwing her balance off and she fell to the floor. Mabel was in the house.

The door swung toward the wall and then bounced back. It slammed into her as she was getting up and knocked her back down before closing with a thud. Inside, the house was too dark. Windows along the walls allowed a small amount of light in to puddle on the floor. It seemed like the light was afraid to go much further into the house, leaving Mabel alone. Mabel stifled a sneeze and stood up. She instinctively tried to look around but couldn’t see much else than the windows. With her hands out, she backed into the door and felt for a light switch. Light might have warned the inhabitants of the house or the things outside, but the dark was too much.

As she felt the walls, her other senses tried to make sense of what was around her. The house creaked and moan, and there was a slight breeze that flowed around her. Her fingers felt the smooth wood, carved with shapes she couldn’t decipher. Despite the breeze, the room had the musty smell of moldy furniture and rotten vegetation. After a couple of minutes of feeling the walls, she decided to give up. Maybe the house was built before electricity or if there truly were giants living in the house, the switch was up higher on the wall. She cursed the lack of time she had to prepare her bag, otherwise she would have a flashlight right now to use.

Mabel decided if she was going to follow this strange fairy tale logic she had spinning around in her head, then maybe she could be in wonderland and there was a giant table with a magic potion on it. She shuffled to the side of the door, hoping to touch a large table leg. Her foot kicked something that made a loud clank, and she could hear something wobbling back and forth. She blindly reached out, half expecting to feel the huge table leg, but felt the smooth glass of a normal-sized table. Mabel swept her hands back and forth above the table and felt a lamp. Her hands patted the lamp until it brushed the pullchain, she pulled it.

Light exploded in the room, blinding her. After a moment her vision came back and she was able to get her first real look of the room. The lamp didn’t offer much light, much of the room was outside of the light’s glow. But she could see that the room was large. Golden starlight twinkled throughout the room, along with something large in the distance. The starlight appeared to belong to other lamps on tables, all normal size. So no giants, she thought to herself. She left the comfort of her light and started going to the other tables, leaving a trail of little islands of light. After five minutes all of the lamps in the room were lit and she saw the room in most of its glory.

The largest open staircase she has ever seen was the centerpiece of the room. There was a fireplace that she could have stood in on one of the walls. Four doorways of darkness punctuated the room. Each table had dirty white tablecloths with the tarnished brass lamps. The light from the lamps were not bright enough to light the ceiling, though Mabel could see the shape of a huge chandelier hanging down. Besides the tables, there were also chairs and couches covered in graying white sheets. Underneath the tables were Persian rugs, dotted with dirt and dead bugs. The rugs laid on top of a checkerboard tile floor.

Mabel stood awed by the room. She had never been in anything so beautiful before. If the room hadn’t been covered in filth she would have felt out of place. However, the dirt and disrepair of the place matched how she felt. What was this place, she thought. If the lights still worked, could it be abandoned? Shit! If it wasn’t abandoned, she just announced to everyone here that someone was in this room. She dove under a table and listened.

The room was silent except for the lonely moan she had heard earlier. Something felt off as she sat under the table. There was something missing. She looked around and touched her backpack. Three legs held up the table. Cobwebs hung down from the table and stuck to her blonde hair. When a couple of minutes passed and she couldn’t stand the strange feeling under the table, she decided it was enough time. She climbed out from under the table slowly, then put her hand on the tabletop to help her stand up. The lamp caught her eye. That is when it dawned on her, there was no power cord for the light.

Streaks of black and gray tarnished the lamp, giving it an ancient appearance. Mabel picked it up, to see if there was a slot for batteries, but the bottom was smooth except for some tiny screws. She sat it back down on the table and decided it had to have been battery powered. Maybe they didn’t want to ruin the look of the room with power cords or outlets, she thought. She hitched up her backpack and headed for the stairs.

As she climbed the large steps, she tried to picture where the tower was on the house. The steps creaked quietly and some bent under her weight. When she got to the top, she saw that the balcony was part of a hallway that connected each wing of the house. She looked out at the room as she thought about which way to go. The room seemed much larger from the balcony, it looked like she was above the night sky. From this height she could just make out the large chandelier. It was made of bones. Each light bulb was being held by a skeletal hand. Dusty cobwebs completed the ensemble. Mabel moved away from the rail, horrified at the sight. The chandelier began to sway back and forth. Then the stars below started to go out one by one.

Mabel watched the lamps blink out. The darkness began to grow. Panic filled her stomach at the thought of being in the house in the dark. Then the moaning increased. Mabel was at a loss on what to do next. She put her hands over her ears to try to block some of the sound. A warm moist breeze began to blow out from the openings. It felt like the house was breathing. The bone chandelier creaked and rattled in the breeze. The tablecloths on the tables floated around the tables knocking over some of the lamps. All of the lights were now out except for one next to the bottom of the staircase.

The room was now a cacophony of sound. Lamps rolled around on the ground. Some light bulbs popped as they hit the floor. The chandelier bounced back and forth on its chain, sometimes smacking the ceiling with a crunch. The moaning would hit high pitches at times and other times a deep bass. Mabel’s screaming added to the choir of noise. Her eyes spun around in her head, trying not to land on the strange dance happening in the room below. Eventually her sight landed on the one source of light and she focused on it.

While the room was in a state of madness she went down the stairs. Mabel knew she needed the light. She knew she needed to get up to the tower and see if she had been followed. No matter how crazy the room was acting, it was better than what was after her. It was better than what would happen if she was caught. The house was big and old, she thought. She had opened the door and had messed with the pressure of the house. Clearly no one was in the house, so the logical explanation was that she had caused some sort of destabilization, maybe shifted something and the air was coming in from outside. The lights probably went out because of old batteries, she thought. She would grab the lamp, take it back up stairs and try to find the tower. Eventually everything would calm down.

The bottom step was the last sanctuary of normal before the swirling insanity of the room. She stood there with blinders on, focused on the one table still acting like a table. It was just within reach so that she wouldn’t have to step onto the floor. Mabel was sure if she did touch the ground she would be caught up in the madness and wouldn’t be able to recover. She bent over as far as she could and her finger tips brushed against the cool brass of the lamp. The lamp wobbled for a moment and settled down. She grabbed the tablecloth and gently pulled the lamp closer. Her hair whipped around her head, blinding her while she reached out again, this time getting a good enough grip to bring it to her. She hugged the light and ran up the stairs and down a hall, not looking back.

The hallway stretched out before Mabel in darkness. Doors and antique tables marked her way. A plush green carpet muffled her footsteps. The light in her hands allowed her to see a few feet around her, but not enough to tell her how far the hallway went. All of the big oak doors looked the same, with ornate carvings on them. She thought about opening them, but was sure that the staircase to the tower wouldn’t be behind a door.

The sound from the main room slowly disappeared as she traversed the hall. She wondered if the things chasing her were outside. If they heard the noises from the house and knew she was in here. Would they be able to ignore the craziness and know she was upstairs? She knew they would. She knew that they were part of something much crazier than what was happening in the room. They were something that lived in that type of world every day, they fed on it, lived for it. Maybe they were the cause of it, she thought. This could all be some elaborate trap to drive her into their arms. What she had of theirs was enough for them to do this. She clutched her backpack tighter and picked up her pace.

A sound behind a door brought her out of her thoughts. She stopped and looked at the door. It was like the others, big, wooden, with shapes carved on it. She walked over to it, her light reflecting off the varnished wood. The shapes on the wood came into focus. They were people. Each person looked to be in agony, contorted into strange positions. The sound called out again. It sounded like something crying. Mabel watched the door.

Nothing happened. Then she heard whispers and what sounded like a smack. Could there be people in there? Mabel touched the handle as she heard some whimpering. She got down on her knees and looked through the keyhole under the handle.

Blue permeated through the room, giving everything inside a cold look. From what Mabel could see, the room didn’t match the rest of the decor in the house. The walls were bare and there was a dirty mattress in the corner. On the mattress was an emaciated person. It was hard to determine their sex because of the torn rags they wore. She stared at the body and wondered if it was a corpse. Then the body gasped and made the same whimpering she had heard before. A shape came out of the area of the room she couldn’t see from the keyhole. Mabel fell away from the door horrified at the sight.

Mabel slowly got back up and looked into the keyhole again. The shape edged closer to the body. It was human shaped, but definitely wasn’t human. In what might have been its hand, but resembled a tentacle, was a large syringe. Mabel instinctively itched her arm as the shape tied off the body’s arm and injected something into the exposed vein. There was a pleasurable moan as the body curled up.

Mabel jumped up away from the door and started to run down the hall. Cries, whimpers, and moans echoed out of each of the doors in the hallway as she ran. Mabel fought the urge to stop and reach into her bag. The metal container rattled around in the bag, and Mabel’s mind. What is this place, she thought, trying to push away thoughts of pulling out the box. Could there be people behind each of these doors? Is there something she could do for them?

Selfishly she thought these people could be a blessing for her. The things chasing her would have a hard time finding her if they stopped to check any of these rooms for her. They might even get trapped and she wouldn’t have to worry about them any more. She smiled at that idea. Maybe she could use these rooms of hell to her own advantage. If she could set up some sort of signal for them, they would come into the house and then it was just a matter of getting them to open a door.

A plan started to form as she ran down the hallway looking for the staircase. Mabel used the sounds to push her further, to steel herself for what she needed to do. She ran past the tortured souls, the hallway lasting longer than she thought it would. It felt like a dream, as if she was running in place. She was reminded of running through the woods and wondered why this kept happening to her.

Mabel’s lungs were on fire and her legs felt like rubber when the stairwell appeared on her left. It wasn’t as grand as the main staircase, just a normal wood stairwell that you would see in any house. She stopped to catch her breath when she noticed a room behind her with the door open. The light didn’t give her much view into the room, but she could tell it wasn’t like the blue room. It looked like a room that actually belonged to the house. There was a canopy bed, modern dresser, and a table. The bed looked inviting and she was exhausted.

First, she was going to execute her plan, and then she was going to take a nap.

Mabel turned away from the room and went up the stairs. Purple wallpaper coated the walls of the staircase. Some was peeling and hanging down, there were strips laying on the stairs. Light danced around the walls from the windows up in the tower. She clamored up the steps to get into the natural light, her eyes and mind gasping for the light after being in the dark house for so long.

The tower was a lot bigger than she thought. It also seemed to be the most neglected room of the house. Creaky wood planks covered the floor, along with bird and bat droppings. The walls were plaster and lath with four big windows looking out at the four points of the compass. Mabel crept over to a window, the floor crying out from her weight. Mist dominated her view. Beyond the fog, Mabel could make out the forest, a dark shadow behind the white fog. She went to each window to see if she could determine where she had left the woods. It all looked the same.

Mabel had a moment of panic. If she put the light in the wrong window, would they know someone was in the house? Wind blew through the tower, shifting something above her. Mabel looked up at the sound to see a wooden chandelier hanging from the ceiling. There was a wire coming down from the light leading to a push button switch on the wall. Mabel crossed her fingers and pushed the button, the chandelier flickered for a moment before coming on. The entire room lit up like a beacon. Her plan was falling into place and Mabel was excited at the chance to possibly be done with running. Then she saw the shape in the corner.

A pulsing black mass that looked like a bunch of snakes squirmed in the corner. The shape was too dark for the room, as if the light stopped when it came to it and ran back to its source. A wet slurping sound emanated from it as it quivered. Mabel slowly backed away from it, her hand outstretched behind her to feel for the staircase. The thing didn’t seem to notice her, too busy writhing around itself. She went down the stairs watching behind her. When her foot touched the carpet of the hall she let out the breath she had been holding. She went into the bedroom across the hallway and opened her backpack. It was time to enact part two of her plan.

After twenty minutes of wandering around the hall she was back in her room with the door closed. Her backpack was empty of everything she had collected, except for the metal box. Most of her clothes were also off. She had spread little clues from the big staircase to a couple of different doors in the opposite wing of the house. It was much worse than hers, so many noises of pain and suffering. She had heard the crying so much that she was used to it. In fact, she almost welcomed them, knowing that they would be the sounds of her salvation. Mabel sat down at the table and looked at the metal box. Her bare arms were exposed in the tank top she was wearing. The metal box was cool to the touch. The house and the forest had distracted her, but now that she had time to relax, her thoughts went to what she wanted. She fought the urge and looked around the room.

Coziness permeated the bedroom. Mabel felt comfortable and relaxed as she examined the objects throughout it. The bed was hidden beneath a large heavy canopy. The mattress was thick and plush, she imagined sinking into it and letting it envelope her in softness. The wooden dressers were tall and dark with a thick coating of stain on them. There were pictures of scenery on the strange wallpapered walls. The pictures were the only things that unsettled her. Strange scenes of other worldly landscapes. She walked around the room on her bare feet, letting the pile of the carpet caress her feet. If the house wasn’t some horrible hell, I’d live here forever, she thought. She yawned and sank into the mattress, the metal box and her hunters forgotten.

Voices and evil laughter seeped into her dreams. She rolled over in her sleep, trying to shake the sounds out of her head. A light touch on her skin woke her up. The sheet covering her slide off and she bolted up out of her sleep. Different colored lights danced around the bed. She rubbed her eyes, but the lights were still there. The room was freezing, she reached for the sheet when she saw that a silk ribbon had been tied around her legs and attached to the bedposts. The lights congealed into shapes.

She wanted to scream, but she was confused at the sight, her mind not comprehending what she was seeing. The shapes were outlines of humans. It was like looking at living drawings, they had no bodies -just blackness in between the lines- but the human shapes had weight. They all looked like men. Some of them leered at her half naked body; a blue one touched her with its outlined finger. She recoiled from the touch, it was cold, but there was more in that touch then temperature. Memories of her past life came rushing back. The urge to fight pulsed through her body and she clawed at the silk binding around her legs. Laughter boomed in the room, freezing her in place.

A different shape in the bedroom appeared out of the darkness. It was holding her syringe. The outlines grabbed her arms and tied them to the bedposts. She fought, but they were stronger. Her mind reeled as the shape came at her with the syringe, the needle sparkling in the darkness. Her body craved the blackness inside it.

Mabel’s mind shattered leaving her with nothing. She numbly watched the shape push the needle into her arm. Her arteries opened up, welcoming the blackness worming its way through her body, corrupting everything and instantly making her want more. A few of the shapes began to touch her slowly. She stared up at the ceiling, trying to slide into the darkness of her mind.

A wooden door closed in a big house. A light in a tower went out, and a shape in a tower squirmed and quivered in delight. A room full of tables and lamps settled down and reset themselves. Outside of the house the mist drew a curtain around it, muffling the screams and moans that radiated out.