Chapter 3: A House is Not a Home

The group of four follow the lone light source as the old woman hobbles along the dirt road. It doesn't take long for them to catch up with her. Emma and Henry walk alongside the woman, squinting in the darkness to see where they were going. Crystal walked behind them, hands in her pockets and she continues to look around into the darkness. Her magic was acting up, in weird ways, she could feel the field of energy around her. It was not a pleasant feeling, her stomach rotated a few times and the power seemed to fluctuate rhythmically, almost like a heartbeat. Killian brought up the rear of the group, he simply did not trust the figure guiding them. There was something very off about the gray-eyed being taking the form of an old woman. He constantly looked behind them, in case they were being followed.

"I forgot to ask your name," Emma says politely.

"I'm Mrs. Baker," the woman answers. "Andrea Baker."

"Thank you, Mrs. Baker, for offering us your phone."

"It's no trouble at all, it's not often that people get stranded here, the road is awfully hard to find."

"In the rain, you couldn't see your hand in front of your face," the blonde comments.

"Very true," Mrs. Baker says.

They come to the edge of what was likely a driveway. There's a mailbox with the name Baker, painted on it with now fading black letters. The woman turns onto the road, made up of gravel stones and the tall trees overhead formed almost a canopy above them. They all got wet as the left-over rain fell onto them as they went. Killian could not shake the feeling of dread as they wove deeper off the road and into this person's property. There seemed to be a fence along the edge of the driveway, it was made of thin metal and had barbed wire along it. The pirate had learned the term when he visited David and Snow's farm, he was told that the points kept cows from straying too far and kept other critters from getting in. Either way, it was to prevent escape.

The house at the end of the driveway made all four people gasp.

It was a large house, at least three stories or more that was almost as tall as the trees surrounding it. It had a sort of Victorian feel about it, a front porch that had two large pillars to hold up the roof. There was a rocking chair on this porch along with a basket full of knitting. It could be assumed that Mrs. Baker spent her afternoons quietly rocking back and forth. There were some lovely beds of flowers covered with mulch at the base of the porch, many bushels of clovers and pansies, jasmines and morning glories sprouted from them. The front garden was relatively well kept. The grass grew a little wildly, but there were also topiary hedges, carved into long looking shapes. They were almost meant to represent giant snakes made of leaves. There was an upstairs porch/balcony that was over one of the main windows that also had a rocking chair there too. The house was also covered with ivy. It seemed to grow wildly along the walls of the old house, spreading out, almost like a virus. The pointed leaves were also very big and moved ever so slightly in the wind, giving the illusion that small hands were waving down at the visitors.

There were two old, heavy oak doors that the old woman unlocked. She blew out the lantern she had with her and she held the door open for everyone to enter. Again, Killian hesitated at the door but followed everyone else in.

An odd-looking chandelier hung above them in the front hall, it was made of iron and curved in odd ways. The ends were lit with lightbulbs this time. There was an archway at the end of the front hall that framed a staircase that wound upwards in a spiral pattern to the next level. The banister was carved from polished wood that shone, but also looked rough and bumpy.

"Please come in, just hang your wet coats to dry," Mrs. Baker says. She hangs her shawl on a coat rack next to the door. It was an unusual coat rack as the ends of it had the heads of snakes carved from the wood.

Almost everywhere the group looked there were either snakes or some forms of reptiles represented in some way. When one got a closer look at the banister, it was carved to look like the scales of a snake that wound its way up to the stairs. On the left of the front hall, was a long tapestry with various lizards, snakes, and turtles woven into it. The rug in front of the staircase gave the impression of a snakeskin. There were framed diagrams of reptiles and their anatomy along the walls, several snakes' skins had been preserved in frames as well and one could now tell that the chandelier was meant to look like a swarm of snakes with lightbulbs in their mouths.

"What's going on Mother?" a voice calls from the very end of the house.

"We have some stranded motorists," the woman explained.

A man appeared from wherever in the large house he had come from. He had large and thick wire-rimmed glasses that magnified his eyes ever so slightly. His eyes were a very dark brown, almost to the point of being black in colour and they squint at the new visitors. He wore a brown leather apron tied in the back and thick boots that punished the hardwood floor as he walked closer. He wore a white shirt that was stained in many places and wore green gloves that looked like gardening gloves. His hair was graying ever so slightly on the edges, but it was also unkempt and tangled in places.

He peered at the group with suspicion but also much curiosity. He removes his gloves and tucks them into the pouch of his apron. He stands with Mrs. Baker, just under the archway at the group.

"They got lost in the storm and their car got stuck in the mud," the man's mother explained.

"That's a real shame," he says, his lips quivered into almost a smile for a second.

"We just came to use your phone," Emma says. She was now becoming increasingly uncomfortable with every passing second. Killian was right, this was wrong, but they had no choice. The place, if it wasn't a shrine for snakes, could actually be very beautiful.

"By all means, you are welcome to use it, Mother can make you some coffee or hot chocolate if you'd like."

"You'd better get them some towels too," Mrs. Baker adds.

"I'll do that. There's a fire in the fireplace if you'd like to go warm up."

"Thank you…" Emma says, biting her lip. She just wants to use the phone and get out of here.

"Follow me to the phone," Mrs. Baker says. "And please take off your shoes so you don't track any mud in."

The group reluctantly obliges before walking together. Killian grabs Emma's hand, their fingers interlocking. Henry stayed relatively close to his mother and Crystal, seemed to be the most impacted. Her head was throbbing with the overwhelming feeling of energy. Her ears were ringing continuously. This place was not that welcoming, especially with the addition of the snakes, which were not her favourite animal.

The group follows the woman to the kitchen, which was adjacent to the living room and sure enough there was a large roaring fire at the end of the room. But again, it was decorated with reptiles. The posts on each of the furniture were carved to look like snakes were holding up the alligator leather skinned chairs and coaches. The wallpaper in the living room had a strange pattern of lizards around it and there was a large, green rug in front of the fireplace. More snake skins were preserved and hanging on the walls. A weird looking fern sits in the corner that has vines dangling from it. Lamps that had the sculptured bases that looked like iguanas light up the entire room. What made the place even creepier was the very large alligator or crocodile head that was mounted over the fireplace. It had black, beady eyes that seemed to stare at the group, with its mouth open, large enough for someone to stick their head inside.

The kitchen looked a bit more normal, with a cast iron looking stove and large refrigerator. There was a kettle on the stove that the woman filled with water and put it on to boil some water. The wooden handles of the cupboards were carved to look like snake skins and the woman brought down several mugs, all snake-themed around the handles.

"Would any you like coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?" Mrs. Baker asks.

Henry looks at his mom as if to get approval. While he too was skeptical of everything, the place was really creepy looking, he could never pass up the opportunity for hot chocolate. His stomach growls slightly at the thought.

"I'd like some please," he asks. "With cinnamon inside."

"Oh, I don't get that order very often," Mrs. Baker chuckles.

Emma decides to join her son, they were all very thirsty.

"I'll have the same with cinnamon"

"What about you, young lady?"

"Uh… just some herbal tea please, if it's not too much trouble,"

"No trouble at all," the old woman says with a warm smile. "And for you sir?"

Killian did not trust this woman, not at all. For some reason, he was worried that she might try and poison them or something. He wasn't sure why he felt this way, everything just felt off, or maybe it was the pirate inside of him, distrusting of others.

"Just water please," he finally says.

"You sure you don't want something stronger?"

"No thank you," the man says politely.

"Well the phone is in the living room there on the back wall, why don't you all go warm yourselves by the fire while I get your drinks."

Everyone hesitates, but the roaring fire was rather tempting.

"Go on make yourselves at home," she says with a warm smile.

Reluctantly, the four travellers walk into the eerie looking living room. It felt like all the different reptiles were watching them, it was not a pleasant feeling to have.

Henry finds a stool and brings it close to the fire. He rubs his hands and holds them out to get warm. Emma spies the telephone in the corner and practically runs to it. Crystal finds a chair that was close to the fire as well. She hopes that sitting down will settle her apparent migraine. She shivers in her wet shirt and she begins combing through her wet hair with her fingers to get rid of any knots. Killian decides to stand close to Emma as she tried to phone her parents or somebody to get them out of there. Mrs. Baker hums to herself in the kitchen, managing everything as if she was expecting them to just drop in from out of nowhere.