Lock and Key

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The residents of Forget-me-not Valley didn't particularly care to pry. Though it was a small town, to be sure, just about everyone minded their own business. "My life is mine, and yours is yours, and that's that" was the sleepy little town's motto, and very few but the foolish or the rude dared stray from it, in most cases.

However, there always did seem to be exceptions to every rule, every saying - and, though they would never loudly admit it, Forget-me-not Valley had its own exception, as well...

"What is in there?"

"I hear it's always locked... he doesn't even allow Takakura inside!"

"Has it always been that way?"

"I'm not sure..."

"That place gives me the creeps..."

"I could swear I've seen him go inside there sometimes! But I can't say for certain..."

"Best just avoid the subject, then."

Though Jack Lirkel was a well-liked and generally respected member of the community, he certainly was not exempt from the inevitable hushed gossip that came with being a new face in a small town. The whispers hadn't started immediately after he'd inherited the farm from his father - no, he'd been accepted with open arms and wide smiles, initially. But as the months passed by, and the questions were dodged, the suspicion grew.

A small shack in one corner of the farm lay seemingly unused - as far as anyone could tell, locked up tight, entry permitted to absolutely nobody. It did have windows, to be certain, but anyone who ever dared peek in - when they were sure they wouldn't be caught - was met with only inky blackness.

"Even in broad daylight! Now, I'm certain that in a building that size, the only way to accomplish that would be to cover the windows, wouldn't you agree?"

"Indeed. What could he be hiding...?"

Word spread around town, from the mouths of residents who liked to walk past Jack's farm to the spring behind it, that they had heard the occasional odd noise from the shack at night. A whimper, a moan, a sob... a shriek...

"Could've sworn I saw a faint light under the door, but in my old age, your eyes play tricks on you, yeah?"

"I can't sleep at night... not after what I heard."

But they kept their concerns wrapped in whispers, never daring to voice their suspicions too loudly. Their lives were their lives, and his was his, and that was that - as much as they were starting to dislike the fact.

Nami Senkako, however, cared little for the etiquette the town hoped to impose upon its residents. She came and went with the wind - what did she care if she took things too far? She could always head out to the next town that her feet led her to, repercussions be damned.

It was with this bold disregard that Nami snuck onto the Streamside Farm one muggy June midnight, cloaked entirely in black. Though she was sweating terribly, she couldn't risk being seen - her vibrant red hair was covered by a thick woolen cap that she longed to rip off and toss aside.

Screw that. I'm getting in there.

Nami never considered herself particularly nosy. She kept to herself, didn't ask questions, didn't snoop around. But all the same, she knew that something simply wasn't right, and that she would probably be the only one with enough balls to find out what it was.

Pressing herself tightly against a tree at the far corner of the farm, Nami peered around carefully. The barn was dark, as were Takakura's house and the tool shed. No lights on in the chicken coop or Jack's house... and she was certain that the food storage building was empty, too. The farm was asleep for the night. Perfect.

With agonizing slowness, Nami inched over to the shack, careful not to make a sound or stand out too sharply from the night's shadows - the moon was just barely veiled behind a thin layer of clouds, and even in her dark clothes, she knew that any second, her cover could be blown.

A scraping noise and a rustle from somewhere around her made her freeze in place, and her heart thudded madly against her ribcage - was he there? Did he see her? Did he know?

"Hel... hello?" she whispered, her voice trembling uncharacteristically. She wasn't used to this sort of maddening fear, this anxiety - and the silence that followed only made it worse.

"Jack? Is that you?" she whispered again, trying to keep her voice steady. No need to draw the man's attention if it was just a simple false alarm.

No answer came. She sighed and continued making her way toward the shack.

Let's get this thing open, she thought nervously, reaching in her coat pocket for a hairpin and jiggling it around in the keyhole a bit. A soft click relayed her success to her, and she swallowed hard - did she really want to open the door?

It'd be stupid to come this far and back out now. I'm not an idiot. I'm not a coward.

She breathed out a shaky breath as she pushed the door open slowly, thankful that it didn't creak...

"Oh, man!" she moaned, coughing into her fist, her eyes watering. A fetid stench punched her hard, shooting up her nostrils and down the back of her throat. She gagged and held onto the doorframe to keep from collapsing, eyes watering, then widening in horror as she took in the sight before her.

The walls, the floor, the ceiling - everything was smeared with spatters of blood, dirt, and what Nami thought might be flesh. Bodies in various states of decay littered the floor, all appearing to be young men and women in various articles of skimpy clothing - some were too decomposed to tell what had happened, while others where split open head-to-groin, and more still were dismembered, burned beyond recognition, or mutilated in some other horrid way.

Another body, one freshly dead and looking to be a young woman, was shackled to the far wall. She was kneeling, spikes driven through her eye sockets and the back of her mouth pinning her head upright to the wall. Her wrists looked raw and the flesh worn away, possibly by constantly rubbing against the iron shackles in vain attempts to escape.

Nami backed away in horror, her hand clamped over her mouth. Vomit rose in her throat.

"What were you doing in my shack, Nami?" a soft, even voice asked from behind her.

Nami gave a small shriek and spun around, nearly falling over as she saw him... standing there, bathed in shadows. She could barely see his face, his expression cold and neutral, his eyes... his eyes were gleaming so strangely...

"Y... you..." Nami choked out, not even bothering to stay calm. "I... can't..."

"What were you doing in my shack, Nami?" he asked again, his voice as cold and calm as before. "You were in my shack... I don't like that..."

She saw the gleam of a long, sharp sickle clenched in his right hand.

"I don't like that you were in my shack, Nami."

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"I don't know... she always did say she wouldn't be staying long."

"A shame, a shame... she didn't seem like such a bad girl."

"Always had a touch of the wanderlust, she told me. Yeah, I know what that's like..."

The whispers floated throughout town the day following Nami's sudden disappearance. Tim Hyunh had gone up to her room at the Inner Inn to call her down for breakfast, only to find the door unlocked and the room empty. No note, nothing.

"I'll miss her. Well, I hope she comes back around again sometime soon..."

"She always did love your cooking, Ruby. I'm sure she'll be back. Oh, hey, Jack!"

Jack cut down a large patch of grass with a long, sharp sickle and waved, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Morning, Mr. Hyunh! What's up?"

"You haven't seen Nami around here, have you? We can't find her anywhere... we think she might've left town." Tim tapped his chin thoughtfully and looked around. "You didn't see her before she left, did you?"

"No, sir!" Jack shook his head. "But if I see her, I'll let you guys know!"

"Thanks!"

Tim and Ruby wandered off to the spring behind Jack's farm, and he watched them go with a smile on his face. Such nice people in such a nice town. They didn't particularly care to pry...

Stretching his arms and rolling his neck, Jack picked up the sickle once more to continue cutting the grass...

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Oh, come on, like you never thought there was something sinister about that shack. Anyway, feel free to leave a review, if you'd like.