Warnings: Slightly scary, dark, shounen-ai later (1x2)
Note: Set in Victorian England. I dunno where it's gonna go. We'll just hope for the best, ne?
Elfindell
Chapter 4
The rest of that week was quiet. Heero ventured out after a couple of days. His father had begun to get suspicious of his sudden reluctance to go outside and Heero did not want his father to find out about his discovery, or his plans for next Tuesday.
He told none of the other children what he had seen, but they also realised that something strange was going on. Heero would often throw excited or worried glances over his shoulder to where Elfindell lurked behind its iron gates.
"Don't fret," Wufei whispered to Trowa and Quatre one day. "Heero's just gone loopy.or Relena's cast a spell on him!" Wufei laughed manically, hissing at little Quatre who squeaked in fright and dived for sanctuary behind Trowa.
Trowa glared at Wufei. Wufei was laughing hysterically. Heero was ignoring all of them. A little tin omnibus lay forgotten in his hand and he was staring in between Wufei and Trowa, down the lane, to the shadowy place behind the bushes and gates. Little did the others know what was going on in Heero's mind.
By the time Tuesday dawned again, Heero was so excited about his upcoming adventure that he had almost completely forgotten how much he had been scared the week before.
As soon as his father had set out to work, Heero sat on his front doorstep under the pretence of leafing through a picture book and eagerly watched the front gates of Elfindell for any sign of Relena.
She appeared soon enough in her stiff home-spun woollen gown, her large market basket on one arm and a shawl around her shoulders. Heero pretended to concentrate on his book. He did not dare think what she would do if she found out he was going to sneak into her house. Heero no longer believed that Relena was a witch, but he knew there was something mysterious about her.
He watched her over the top of his book until she had turned the corner at the top of The Lane and was out of sight. No one was watching him.
Laying the book down on the doorstep, he stood slowly, breathing deeply to keep his courage up. He crept up to the gates and laid his hand on their cold surface. A shiver went through him. With one final glance over his shoulder, he, once again, slipped through the creaky gates and into Elfindell's shadowy front garden.
It was the same as last time, all shadows and rustlings. The sun was shining brightly up above, and yet it did not seem sunny in the garden. Heero, biting his fingernails with nerves, slowly moved up the broken garden path to the front door. Skipping the first broken step, he made it up onto the leafy front porch and then to the front door. It seemed a lot bigger than last time. He craned his neck and looked up at the large brass doorknocker. But he didn't knock this time. On compulsion, he pressed his ear up against the door, just in case the wild girl was crouching just inside, waiting for him. He could hear nothing, but he did not dare to try the letter box.
One last time, he looked back the way he'd come, half-expecting and half-hoping that Relena was striding up along The Lane in a fury to tear him away from her front door. But The Lane was unusually empty.
Gulping, he placed his hand on the cold door handle. It turned with a heavy creak. The door wasn't locked. He pushed it open slowly. It was very dark and shadowy.and empty.
Peering through the gloom into the hall, he saw nothing except some stairs leading upstairs. No wild children were standing there, staring at him as he had half expected. There was no one there.
Slightly encouraged, Heero took his first tentative step into the house. He left the front door open. It was very strange in there. There was one table in the hall, completely devoid of any ornaments or vases and not a single speck of dust. It was just a table, but a table that shouldn't have been there. There was no reason for it to be there. It was the only piece of furniture in the hall. IT was a perfectly ordinary object and yet it seemed uncommonly out of place and eerie, standing alone in the middle of the empty hall.
And the hall was empty. Completely empty. The walls were plain and white with no pictures hanging. Ahead and to his immediate right there were two doors, closed. He could see more doors upstairs along an empty landing, all shut. To his left was another door, slightly open.
He started. For a second he thought he had seen some tiny, white fingers clutching the edge of the doorjamb. But no, nothing there.
He walked forward. His footsteps seemed to ring unnaturally loud on the carpeted floor. He reached the open door. He looked back over his shoulder once to make sure the front door was still open, and then pushed the door open. The room beyond was dark. All the curtains were shut. It was empty of children. There were bookshelves galore, stuffed with large leather-bound volumes that looked very old. The air, which felt extraordinarily thick in Heero's lungs, tasted like old paper and musty ink. There was an old and grand oaken bureau in one corner, locked up tight. There were old and worn rugs on the floor. The hearth was cold, empty and swept clean and there were no ornaments on the mantle.
Heero stared around the room in amazement. It felt so eerie in there. It was warm, yet he felt cold inside. It was full of books and bookshelves and yet it felt so *empty*. It was obviously lived in because the surfaces were regularly polished, but it felt like no one had really been in the room for ages. There were no personal touches, no family heirlooms, no mounted pictures or portraits, no china. Just books.
Heero couldn't read yet, so he did not know what the books were about, but he got the feeling that they weren't pleasant. There were lots of strange symbols on the spines and very few had titles at all.
The small boy tip-toed forward and pulled one of the large books off the shelf carefully. It smelt funny and was almost too heavy for Heero to hold. There was a queer picture on the front of some sort of cross or crucifix. //A bible?// Heero wondered. But no. The picture, the shape and the feel of the book altogether felt too profane to be anything holy.
He opened it up. It was in a strange script that even Heero could tell was not English. He turned a page and dropped the book. On the next page there was a hideous picture, drawn in faded ink in crude lines and rude colours. It was some sort of twisted beast or monster. It was all long fangs and grasping claws and seemed to know that Heero was looking at it. He could almost swear it moved.
Heero whimpered and slammed the book shut. He couldn't bring himself to pick the book up again to put it back on the shelf. He suddenly hated that room. All the books were watching him, he was sure.
Gasping, Heero spun around, his heart pounding. He could have sworn he heard a child giggling behind him. But the room was still empty. He knew he wasn't alone in the house though. His courage had started to seep away. Everything around him seemed to be whispering at him 'You shouldn't be here.'
He could no longer stand to be in that dark room any longer. He felt the strong urge to suck his thumb for comfort, but no, that was babyish. I mean, he was going to be *ten* in autumn. Nine-and-a-half-year-olds did not suck their thumbs. That was for Nine-and-a-quarter-year-olds.
So Heero steeled himself and left the room, still determined to find the strange girl. He shut the door to the room firmly. He was afraid that the creature in the book might come after him if he left the door open. Then he got a terrible shock. The front door was shut. He hadn't heard it shut, but it was. Rushing to it with the intent to open it again and leave it open, Heero felt a growing dread. It was locked. Heero whimpered, seriously scared now. He rattled at the handle but it wouldn't give.
"You can't go yet!"
Heero spun around, blood pounding in his hears. He knew he hadn't imagined that voice. But the hall was completely empty behind him. //I wish I'd never come.// He longed for sunshine and outside. He hated this place. But he couldn't get out.
*Thump, thump, thump* Heero had to clap his hands over his mouth to stop his scream. Running footsteps. He had defiantly heard them. Upstairs.
He peered trough the gloom and up onto the landing. Had that shadow been there before? He was certain it hadn't been. He was also certain that shadows are not supposed to stare at you. He froze. He couldn't move. His fists clenched hard and he felt icy terror creep up his spine. And then the shadow was gone. Heero heard a high peel of laughter but was not sure from where it came.
He was not alone in this house and he was trapped.
TBC
Note: Set in Victorian England. I dunno where it's gonna go. We'll just hope for the best, ne?
Elfindell
Chapter 4
The rest of that week was quiet. Heero ventured out after a couple of days. His father had begun to get suspicious of his sudden reluctance to go outside and Heero did not want his father to find out about his discovery, or his plans for next Tuesday.
He told none of the other children what he had seen, but they also realised that something strange was going on. Heero would often throw excited or worried glances over his shoulder to where Elfindell lurked behind its iron gates.
"Don't fret," Wufei whispered to Trowa and Quatre one day. "Heero's just gone loopy.or Relena's cast a spell on him!" Wufei laughed manically, hissing at little Quatre who squeaked in fright and dived for sanctuary behind Trowa.
Trowa glared at Wufei. Wufei was laughing hysterically. Heero was ignoring all of them. A little tin omnibus lay forgotten in his hand and he was staring in between Wufei and Trowa, down the lane, to the shadowy place behind the bushes and gates. Little did the others know what was going on in Heero's mind.
By the time Tuesday dawned again, Heero was so excited about his upcoming adventure that he had almost completely forgotten how much he had been scared the week before.
As soon as his father had set out to work, Heero sat on his front doorstep under the pretence of leafing through a picture book and eagerly watched the front gates of Elfindell for any sign of Relena.
She appeared soon enough in her stiff home-spun woollen gown, her large market basket on one arm and a shawl around her shoulders. Heero pretended to concentrate on his book. He did not dare think what she would do if she found out he was going to sneak into her house. Heero no longer believed that Relena was a witch, but he knew there was something mysterious about her.
He watched her over the top of his book until she had turned the corner at the top of The Lane and was out of sight. No one was watching him.
Laying the book down on the doorstep, he stood slowly, breathing deeply to keep his courage up. He crept up to the gates and laid his hand on their cold surface. A shiver went through him. With one final glance over his shoulder, he, once again, slipped through the creaky gates and into Elfindell's shadowy front garden.
It was the same as last time, all shadows and rustlings. The sun was shining brightly up above, and yet it did not seem sunny in the garden. Heero, biting his fingernails with nerves, slowly moved up the broken garden path to the front door. Skipping the first broken step, he made it up onto the leafy front porch and then to the front door. It seemed a lot bigger than last time. He craned his neck and looked up at the large brass doorknocker. But he didn't knock this time. On compulsion, he pressed his ear up against the door, just in case the wild girl was crouching just inside, waiting for him. He could hear nothing, but he did not dare to try the letter box.
One last time, he looked back the way he'd come, half-expecting and half-hoping that Relena was striding up along The Lane in a fury to tear him away from her front door. But The Lane was unusually empty.
Gulping, he placed his hand on the cold door handle. It turned with a heavy creak. The door wasn't locked. He pushed it open slowly. It was very dark and shadowy.and empty.
Peering through the gloom into the hall, he saw nothing except some stairs leading upstairs. No wild children were standing there, staring at him as he had half expected. There was no one there.
Slightly encouraged, Heero took his first tentative step into the house. He left the front door open. It was very strange in there. There was one table in the hall, completely devoid of any ornaments or vases and not a single speck of dust. It was just a table, but a table that shouldn't have been there. There was no reason for it to be there. It was the only piece of furniture in the hall. IT was a perfectly ordinary object and yet it seemed uncommonly out of place and eerie, standing alone in the middle of the empty hall.
And the hall was empty. Completely empty. The walls were plain and white with no pictures hanging. Ahead and to his immediate right there were two doors, closed. He could see more doors upstairs along an empty landing, all shut. To his left was another door, slightly open.
He started. For a second he thought he had seen some tiny, white fingers clutching the edge of the doorjamb. But no, nothing there.
He walked forward. His footsteps seemed to ring unnaturally loud on the carpeted floor. He reached the open door. He looked back over his shoulder once to make sure the front door was still open, and then pushed the door open. The room beyond was dark. All the curtains were shut. It was empty of children. There were bookshelves galore, stuffed with large leather-bound volumes that looked very old. The air, which felt extraordinarily thick in Heero's lungs, tasted like old paper and musty ink. There was an old and grand oaken bureau in one corner, locked up tight. There were old and worn rugs on the floor. The hearth was cold, empty and swept clean and there were no ornaments on the mantle.
Heero stared around the room in amazement. It felt so eerie in there. It was warm, yet he felt cold inside. It was full of books and bookshelves and yet it felt so *empty*. It was obviously lived in because the surfaces were regularly polished, but it felt like no one had really been in the room for ages. There were no personal touches, no family heirlooms, no mounted pictures or portraits, no china. Just books.
Heero couldn't read yet, so he did not know what the books were about, but he got the feeling that they weren't pleasant. There were lots of strange symbols on the spines and very few had titles at all.
The small boy tip-toed forward and pulled one of the large books off the shelf carefully. It smelt funny and was almost too heavy for Heero to hold. There was a queer picture on the front of some sort of cross or crucifix. //A bible?// Heero wondered. But no. The picture, the shape and the feel of the book altogether felt too profane to be anything holy.
He opened it up. It was in a strange script that even Heero could tell was not English. He turned a page and dropped the book. On the next page there was a hideous picture, drawn in faded ink in crude lines and rude colours. It was some sort of twisted beast or monster. It was all long fangs and grasping claws and seemed to know that Heero was looking at it. He could almost swear it moved.
Heero whimpered and slammed the book shut. He couldn't bring himself to pick the book up again to put it back on the shelf. He suddenly hated that room. All the books were watching him, he was sure.
Gasping, Heero spun around, his heart pounding. He could have sworn he heard a child giggling behind him. But the room was still empty. He knew he wasn't alone in the house though. His courage had started to seep away. Everything around him seemed to be whispering at him 'You shouldn't be here.'
He could no longer stand to be in that dark room any longer. He felt the strong urge to suck his thumb for comfort, but no, that was babyish. I mean, he was going to be *ten* in autumn. Nine-and-a-half-year-olds did not suck their thumbs. That was for Nine-and-a-quarter-year-olds.
So Heero steeled himself and left the room, still determined to find the strange girl. He shut the door to the room firmly. He was afraid that the creature in the book might come after him if he left the door open. Then he got a terrible shock. The front door was shut. He hadn't heard it shut, but it was. Rushing to it with the intent to open it again and leave it open, Heero felt a growing dread. It was locked. Heero whimpered, seriously scared now. He rattled at the handle but it wouldn't give.
"You can't go yet!"
Heero spun around, blood pounding in his hears. He knew he hadn't imagined that voice. But the hall was completely empty behind him. //I wish I'd never come.// He longed for sunshine and outside. He hated this place. But he couldn't get out.
*Thump, thump, thump* Heero had to clap his hands over his mouth to stop his scream. Running footsteps. He had defiantly heard them. Upstairs.
He peered trough the gloom and up onto the landing. Had that shadow been there before? He was certain it hadn't been. He was also certain that shadows are not supposed to stare at you. He froze. He couldn't move. His fists clenched hard and he felt icy terror creep up his spine. And then the shadow was gone. Heero heard a high peel of laughter but was not sure from where it came.
He was not alone in this house and he was trapped.
TBC
