O Starless Night
"The Raven At His Writing Desk,
Mad? He just may be...
He sits and writes, and hopes and sings,
and waits to be set free..."
The sky over Ariellan is starless on this brisk fall night. The grassy hills sway in time to the wind's breath, to and fro, cresting like the ocean waves. The only sign of life on this bleak landscape is a cluster of lights, nestled at the base of a massive twisted tree, easily taller than one of the towering skyscrapers Saffron is so fond of. As it is the season of autumn, the tree peppers the ground with earth-toned leaves which catch the moonlight as they pivot and twirl, like dancing stars.
The view sways across the tall fields, converging on the smattering of lights- a small town called Lancass.
The very edge of it is dark, illuminated only by the brimming full moon, but it is enough for the farm children of Lancass to see by. This corner of the town houses only a sprawling, dilapidated building known to the children just as 'the old hospital', and then only in whispers. It is your typical haunted building, an old wooden thing long past its days of usefulness. It tilts just slightly, and sags at the edges, and these days the only thing keeping it erect is the sentimentality of the elderly. There is a just-as-old fence enclosing it and at this moment, five children are perched on it. One of them is motioning toward the single wooden spire on the far end of the building, like a jagged splinter, and its half-moon shaped window.
"That one, the little half-circle," the child says boldly, "And then come right back down. Okay?" He turns to face a much smaller boy.
"Why can't I go to one of the other ones? On the first floor?" The dark-haired boy replies in a quiet voice.
"Be-cause," a girl drawls, rolling her eyes, "You lost the fight, stupid! Don't be a scaredy-cat, Lame-asster!"
The small boy flushes with embarrassment as the others titter. "My name's Lein Aster, and I never said I wasn't gonna do it!" he nearly shouts, sliding off of the fence in a huff.
"Then go already, jeez! Mars wasn't so slow!" the larger boy jeers, giving Lein a light kick between the shoulder blades from his perch. Lein stumbles, but manages to catch himself.
"You're the stupid ones! And there's no such thing as ghosts!" And before they can reply, he dashes toward the building. He pauses at the entrance, a large white double door with cracked paint and, pursing his lips, shoves it open. It's less resistant than he expects and he tumbles forward, landing hard on the dusty wooden floor and ignoring the snickering and cat-calls from behind him.
Lein stifles a cough as he takes a breath full of dust, and immediately wishes that his pokemon was there with him. His eyes adjust to the darkness and the haze and directly ahead he sees dark room full of what looks like towering white ghosts. His breath catches before he realizes that they're just furniture draped in aged white sheets, though he would swear that some of them shimmered unnaturally once or twice. He swallows and tiptoes over, touching one tentatively to make sure. He finally dares to tear his eyes away from the eerie scene- a lobby, most likely- and scans the area hopefully for a way to the upper floors. Aw, no...
He is crestfallen as his eyes come upon the old grand staircase- ornate, certainly, for a hospital- as there is a gaping hole in the middle of it. The roof appears to have caved in overhead. Lein runs a hand anxiously through his hair and chances a glance back toward the entrance. No, he certainly can't go back out there with such a lame excuse after only a few minutes. There must be another way up. He slowly picks his way through the lobby, and then into a long shadowy corridor lined with hospital rooms. He trains his gaze forward.
There is no such thing as ghosts, and there are no dead bodies, not even in a hospital.
Lein reaches the end of the corridor to find a gaping hole in the wall where presumably a mechanical door had once resided. A single black cable dangles inside and he peers carefully in and up and makes out the silhouette of the elevator, hovering at the very top of the shaft where the third floor- the tower- would be. But why would it be at the top? Surely no one would take the elevator up and then walk down the stairs. But he quickly forgets the oddity as he spots a steel ladder going up the side of the shaft, no doubt for maintenence.
Lein takes a steady step onto the ladder and swings himself around the doorway. Piece of cake. He is just beginning his ascent when a curious noise reaches his ears. He quells his rising panic once he realizes it isn't the elevator about to crush him- no, it's coming from the hallway he just left. He holds his breath and strains his ears.
tappatappatappatappa
Lein frowns, puzzled. The sharp staccato noise continues, increasing in volume by the second.
tappatappatappatappa
It's no sound a person would make Lein reflects, paling upon the realization. Jerked out of his curious reverie he continues upward as quickly as he can without making noise- but he's too late. Whatever it is seems to hear his movements or his breath and quickens its pace. Lein hears it come to a halt just feet below him and, shaking slightly, he turns to face it.
Imagine a spider, black and nearly five feet tall, with six legs that arc up and then back down at the joints like upside-down V's, ending in needle-sharp points. Imagine a slender neck that juts up from the center of its body, where the legs meet, and a relatively small head with tiny shining obsidian eyes and a sharkfin-like protrusion on the back of its head. Its twisted gash of a maw widens, revealing hundreds of knifelike teeth- like a mouthful of shattered glass- as it emits an odd clicking sound, but it is the sharp pointed legs which make the tapping sound as it leans into the doorway, eyes fixed upon Lein.
They stare at each other for a moment. Lein's bottom lip quivers, but he doesn't dare to move- that is, until the creature lunges at the wall below him, now emitting a horrible screeching like rending metal that echoes piercingly in the narrow shaft.
The boy emits a bark of terror and scrambles up the ladder, hands and legs a blur as the creature easily overtakes him, piercing the sole of his shoe with one sharp leg. Lein squeals in fear and yanks his foot out of the shoe- he's so very close, nearly parallel to the second floor entrance now- and in an act of desperation he flings himself off of the ladder and away from the monster, grasping the single cable dangling from the suspended elevator.
The elevator lurches in protest as he swings precariously to the other side and, to his horror, right back toward the spider-monster, whose mouth opens in anticipation as he rapidly approaches. This time a scream escapes him and he lurches to the side to avoid the snapping jaws, losing his grip on the cable. For a moment he enters free fall, his stomach rapidly climbing his gullet as he continues to holler, hands clutching at the air before him.
By some miracle one hand manages to grasp the ledge of the second floor doorway shakily, and the force of the abrupt halt interrupts his scream. He pauses for a fraction of a second, his mind numb with fright and relief, before groaning with the effort of hauling himself up the ledge. The spider-monster is in no hurry to let her prey escape and she leans toward him, gripping the cable with her teeth to allow for one swift movement across the passage. She kicks off and swings across, digging one sharp claw into the floor inches from Lein's head. Taking this as great incentive he drags himself swiftly up and shimmies onto his side to swing his legs up, just as another of the creature's legs whips toward him with deadly accuracy-
Crr-WHOOOSH!
The elevator plummets suddenly from above, and barely a second later a deafening crash follows it along with a blinding, billowing wave of filth and debris. Lein scoots away from the shaft, shaking with a coughing fit, eyes streaming from dust and fear.
It is nearly a minute before he can open his eyes, and he nearly cries with relief when he sees that the monster is nowhere to be found. Instead, he draws his legs up and wipes his eyes with a sleeve, resting until his heartbeat regains a human rhythm.
How on earth am I going to get back down now? He wonders, sniffling. He finally stands, teetering slightly from exhaustion. It'll be okay. I can just ask the guys to get a grown-up. Dad's going to be so mad... He glances around, and is relieved to see a sweeping white marble staircase at the other end of a long hallway, leading up. He heads toward it. Not that they'll believe me about the monster, anyway...
On the second step he notices another set of shoeprints headed the same way, much larger than his own and looking to be decades old.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he dimly notices that there are no footprints leading back down.
They wouldn't dare leave, would they? ...No, they'll still be there, waiting for me to find the tower and the window. It hasn't been all that long.
The staircase gradually twirls upward in a tight coil, but he finally reaches the top of the tower. It appears to have been nothing but a small personal room, just enough room for two bulging bookshelves on either side, and a squashy red velvet armchair with the back towards him, facing- yes!- the half-moon window.
Lein lets out a breathy, tired laugh of relief as he moves toward it. The window is caked with filth and it filters the moonlight oddly, casting a dark bluish hue over the room and illuminating dancing specks of dust like fireflies and-
He stops dead.
There's something in the armchair.
He notices the top of a head- a human head, with dark hair- but caked with dust like the rest of the room, untouched for who knew how long.
There is a corpse in the armchair, Lein's mind produces, but he simply retches at the thought, covering his mouth with both hands. It's true- people died here-!
His breath quickens uncontrollably, muffled by his hands, as he gains control of himself. He edges to the side of the chair unbearably slowly, expecting at any moment to see the empty, gaping eyes of a skull and the grinning teeth-
The armchair groans suddenly. The resting figure rises from its seat, showering them both in dust. It turns around and-
"Ah," the man says, wiping the debris away from his face. Skin as pale as the moon, hair as dark as the starless night, eyes-
For a moment, Lein thought he had no eyes.
The man has eyes of such a deep red- no whites, no pupil, just a deep blood red- that they resemble chasms in the man's face, and Lein's mouth opens in a silent scream as the man moves closer and-
"Hello there," he says in the tone of a kindly grandfather addressing his grandchildren, "My, it has been a while. Would you mind doing a small favor for me?"