Hey everyone, I know it definitely has been a while. A few minor updates, I will be continuing with the story. I would have released another chapter back in April, but my laptop got stolen out of my car and school and work caught up to me. Now I'm back and here's chapter 2.
Chapter 2
The door to the cottage was old and heavy. The wood was splintered, and the handles and hinges were made of pure iron. It seemed like it would have been part of an old show about life on the frontier, like the ones Grunkle Stan watches. Slowly, I pushed the door open. Pacifica and I quietly crept into the cottage. I shined my flashlight into the darkness.
The room was rather large, with antique furniture filling the middle. There was an old table covered with old papers in the middle surrounded by two chairs and an oil lantern hanging above it. Around the room, a few pelts of bears and elk lined the walls as decorations. On each side of the cottage was a large window pane, each with shelf above them and table underneath. On the back wall was a mantle fireplace. It was made of clear cut stone. Red stone, a type that is hard to come by in the Pacific Northwest. On top, stood a five portrait pictures, with too much dust on the frames to be able to see clearly from where I was standing. The room looked as if it hadn't been touched in centuries. An image frozen in time. Even the dust seemed to linger in the air. It was motionless. Quiet and motionless. The two things that should never go together.
"This place gives me the creeps." Pacifica said. She took her phone out of her pocket, turning the flashlight app.
"I know what you mean." I said, slowly creeping towards the fireplace. "Hey, take a look at this." Pacifica crouched to my eye level. I pointed the flashlight on the left side of the fire place. There were scratch marks along the side of the mantle.
"Maybe a squirrel or a raccoon got in here." Pacific said, her fingers slowly tracing the marks.
"No, these are way too big to be a raccoon." I remarked, taking out a small note book and pen from my bag, jotting down notes.
"And what makes you an expert in vermin?" Pacifica teased.
"Well, one example, the 'truth or dare' incident from last week's sleepover." I smugly replied, showing the scar I got last week.
"In my defense, Mabel dared you to go outside and do the chicken dance, we didn't know that would cause a raccoon attack." We both laughed. "Besides, scars are manly."
I put the journal and pen away, slowly crossing over towards the other side of the mantle. As I walked, I looked at the pictures on the mantle. The one in the middle was a group photo, which seemed to be a family of loggers and lumberjacks. The pictures on each side were of each member individually. Each picture had the woods and clearing in the background. Each with stern facial features, each very serious.
"Hey, Dipper! Look at this." I walked over to Pacifica. She was on the right side of the front door, which stood a small work bench and a storage trunk underneath.
"What do you think is inside?" Pacifica asked, lowering herself to get closer.
"Probably just some tools or unfinished projects." Slowly, I reached toward the trunk. But something didn't feel right. Out of all the items in the room, this did not have any dust on it. Nor did the floor around it. It didn't fit the style of the room either. It was too new. As if it placed here recently. I grabbed the lid of the trunk and slowly lifted it up. I shined my flashlight in. Inside were pictures. Old and a few recent Polaroid photos. Each one was of a person. A few I couldn't tell, but many I did recognize.
"Isn't that Lazy Susan?" Pacifica asked, grabbing one of the pictures at the top.
"Yeah, and there's Manly Dan."
"And Soos." Pacifica was quickly froze. "And me!" she nearly screamed, grabbing my arm. I picked up the picture, the time stamp read for last Friday. It was picture of her at one of the coffee shops, right before it closed.
"What is all this?" I asked, using my free arm to grab my pen and journal, jotting down everything.
"Let's get out of here! This is getting too freaky!" Pacifica said, pulling me to my feet. I pushed the journal into my bag. And we ran, arm in arm, out the door. We got a few yards out when a high pitched squeal burst into the air. I looked behind me, seeing a bat fly right towards us. I dropped to the ground, bringing Pacifica down with me, but not fast enough. The bat was too quick, scratching Pacifica's arm as she went to the ground.
"Are you ok?" I asked, bringing Pacifica closer.
"Yeah, but I guess it's just a workplace hazard." She said smugly. I could tell the scratch stung. I looked up, watching as the bat flew into the night.