Chapter One: Cold Winds
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Sheik's voice was touched with uncertainty, arms folded across his chest as he paused mid-step, slender fingers toying with the hem of his overly-large jacket (the sleeves had been rolled up several times to allow him the use of his hands; he wasn't entirely keen on how he looked at the moment, but hey. At least he was warmer than he had been).
"No," Link responded honestly, turning about to face his friend, "but what choice do we have?" Hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of his well-worn sweater, head tilted to the side as he examined Sheik with an almost tired gaze. "You know how it's been." The nights had been getting colder, making it more difficult for those who lived on the streets, and that, combined with how Sheik's health had been going, was leading the two to make a rather difficult decision.
Sheik sighed, thin shoulders slumping, though the action was all but lost beneath the rather bulky jacket that seemed to swallow his thin form. "…Yes, I know. But do we really have to go to that place?" His nose wrinkled slightly as he spoke, frown twisting chapped lips.
"It's the closest one," Link responded, turning and beginning to walk again, footsteps echoing around the desert street. Everyone else was at home, or had found some manner of shelter, Sheik supposed – and that was wise of them. The weather had been terribly bitter lately. "And you couldn't make it much farther, I think. You look exhausted."
Link's words, while not entirely untrue, served to irk Sheik for some reason that the smaller blond could not explain. Maybe it was because Link was right; Sheik did look exhausted, dark circles beneath brown eyes, his complexion far paler than it normally was, and the very way that he held himself was off. Generally speaking, Sheik held himself with something akin to pride, despite his place in the world; his head would be held high, posture impeccable despite his smaller stature– But now, thin shoulders were slumped, his gaze downcast.
Sighing, Sheik hurried to catch up with his companion, shivering as a cold wind blew. "But do we really have to go to that place? You know what people say about it–"
Link tilted his head slightly, glancing at Sheik. "They're just stories, Sheik. There's no truth to them."
Sheik shook his head, letting out a long breath. Honestly, Link of all people should know better than to say things like that – each story had a grain of truth in it, after all… Especially stories like those that surrounded the place that the two young men were going. Sheik, however, knew that Link would not be so easily dissuaded when he had his mind made up like he did now: it would take something drastic to make him back out – and Sheik would not simply leave his friend, no matter how much his instincts told him to. If Link wanted to do something stupid, then so be it; Sheik could not stop him. Nor would he simply leave Link to his own devices, though; the two had been through a lot together, and so Sheik would stay with his friend even if he did not agree with what the other blond was going to do.
Fifteen minutes later found the two of them standing at the beginning of a long drive that was lined by skeletal trees on either side. Sheik didn't like it; the place had a strange air about it, he thought – one that almost scared him. He couldn't quite place why, but it gave him a bad feeling: a shiver ran through his body, and he sucked in a sharp breath. There was a buzzing in the air, a buzzing on the edge of his hearing– No, it wasn't buzzing, it was a whisper–
"…You comin', Sheik?"
Link's voice pulled Sheik from his thoughts, and the slim blond mentally shook himself. That had certainly been a strange feeling… Where had it come from? "Sorry," he mumbled, jogging a few steps to catch up with Link, who had already started down the winding drive. "I… got dizzy for a second." A worried look was thrown his way, and Sheik managed a shaky smile. "It it nothing, though, don't worry."
On both sides, skeletal trees arched up towards the overcast sky, bony 'fingers' stretched for something, seeming to grasp futilely, inches short of what they wanted. Sheik didn't like it; the entire place gave him a bad feeling, and he couldn't shake the sensation that there was something just on the edge of his hearing. It was akin to a buzz – though, sometimes he thought he could make out a whisper, a word that he could almost understand. Part of him wanted to strain to make out what was being said, but a feeling (instinct, perhaps) told him that to do so would be a bad idea. A heavy ball of dread seemed to settle in the pit of his stomach: there was something going on here, and Sheik didn't like it.
Another shudder ran through Sheik's body, the back of his neck prickling as if someone was staring at him. It was a bad idea to come here, he knew it, but he couldn't simply turn and leave. Link would want an explanation, and Sheik didn't know what he'd tell his friend. The simple fact that there was a bad air about the place wasn't good enough, and he knew it. There had to be some other reason, but whatever it was, there was no way for Sheik to put it into words. It was simply… a feeling. Perhaps it was some portion of his primal instinct, perhaps not. Whatever it was, it was there, and he couldn't shake it.
As the two rounded another curve in silence (any attempt at conversation on Link's part had been met with nothing more than nervous quietness from Sheik), a mansion came into view. At one point, the building had evidently been quite majestic: that much was for certain. It rose from the ground, looking as if it had just fallen from the pages of some gothic Victorian novel. It was all arching windows and towers, delicate woodwork decorating the doors and windowsills: while it was true that the paint was faded and peeling in some places, the house was still quite impressive in its appearance. Despite its almost regal appearance, however, the rather eerie aura that surrounded the place was only aided by the skeletal trees, stripped of their leaves, that surrounded the building and danced in the cold wind that whispered by.
"…Well, doesn't this have a nice atmosphere?" Link's voice was light as he spoke, though Sheik could tell that his friend was just as unnerved as he himself was. "Just the kinda place where I want to spend the winter months."
Sheik rolled his eyes, though he was secretly glad for Link's attempt at lightening the mood. The place was… not exactly one that Sheik would frequent if he could avoid it; the air seemed too heavy, and there was something lingering about – he could feel it. It seemed to press down on him, running its fingers down his back, tracing his spine: it was quite disconcerting, and Sheik didn't like it. He could only hope that he would either grow accustomed to it, or that it would pass – if he had to spend a few months like this… Well, there was no guarantee that he wouldn't lose his mind.
"Let's go inside, yes…?" Sheik murmured, taking the lead, his careful footsteps leading him up the old, brick pathway to the peeling door. Muddy bricks were raised, some having shifted from their original homes years ago, by the looks of things. Sheik didn't know what to make of it, honestly; the entire place felt wrong to him for some reason that he couldn't place. The buzzing (whispering?) that he had heard upon first passing over the boundary onto the property was still there, but he didn't know if he was imagining it or not. Maybe this was all in his head–?
No, it wasn't. It felt far too real to simply be a figment of his imagination.
Feeling Link come to a halt beside him on the front porch, Sheik hesitated only a brief moment before raising a shaking hand (shaking from the cold, he told himself, it was all the cold and not something silly like fear) to knock on the door, little flakes of paint drifting to the ground courtesy of his actions.
"What a high-end place…" Link's muttered words pulled a quiet chuckle from Sheik despite the rather somber atmosphere. "Definitely going to get our money's worth, eh?"
Sheik didn't have a chance to respond before the door swung open, revealing a middle-aged woman, silver-grey hair pulled back into a stern bun. Sharp eyes, framed by spectacles, took in the appearance of the two young men before her: Sheik felt as if she could see into his very soul when she looked at him, her alert, rather birdlike, eyes meeting his dark gaze only for the briefest of moments before she glanced against at Link.
"Can I help you?" the woman asked, her tone crisp and professional. It fit her, Sheik thought; the very way she held herself seemed to exude confidence and expertise. Her clothing was neat, her posture impeccable… If anything, she was the poster-girl for competence.
"…We were hopin' that we could spend a little while here." Link was the one to speak, taking a half-step forward as he did so. "Someone told us about it, said that it was the best place to go if we needed a place to stay–"
That, of course, was a lie and Sheik knew it (and he was fairly certain that the woman in the door did too, if her disproving gaze was any indication). The duo had been warned to stay away by most everyone that they talked to; this place was bad news, or so people said. 'Stay away from Âme House', was what everyone who asked was told. Only those with nowhere else to go would end up there, and those that did hoped that they could get out quickly.
A quiet silence followed, the tension almost tangible. "In that case… Come inside," the woman stated crisply, stepping aside and pushing the door open further to allow the two boys passage.
Sheik hesitated a moment before following Link inside the house, teeth worrying his lower lip for a moment. He didn't like this place at all, honestly, and a sense of dread came over him at the thought of going into Âme House. There were so many stories surrounding the place, and it was difficult to separate fact from fiction… Sheik knew, though, knew better than anyone else, that in every story there was some grain of truth, no matter how small.
Drawing a long breath, the slim blond steeled himself and, placing one foot in front of the other, made himself move forward, crossing the threshold into the Âme House.
When the door closed behind him, there was almost something final – ominous – about the way the thud echoed through the old house. Sheik couldn't help but feel trapped; sometimes told him that when –if – he left, things would be different. Things would be quite different.
To be continued.