The old boreom meter is just banging up there on the 'stop it' peg. Cottage Creep - chapter 1
ugu...@nowhere.net
Ugu...@nowhere.net
Chapter 1
Nestled in the heavily wooded area stood the old building in
the style of the mansions from the deep south plantation era. The
spreading tree canopies make even the days seem dark, and the Spanish
moss hanging from the trees adds an aura of the supernatural to the
grounds. The paint is peeling and various pieces of wood trim hang at
odd angles adding to the appearance of decay. Tom stood looking in
disgust at the dingy old place thinking the task was virtually
impossible. He had six months to convert the creepy old place into
livable quarters for his seminars.
The photos had made the place look very different when he had
signed the paperwork. Yes, there was mention of work needed before
occupancy, but nothing to indicate the current shape the building was
in. Still, it was a beautiful place, and he could envision it fully
restored. Instantly he made his decision to follow through with his
plans, and he began to survey the task at hand in earnest.
As he circumnavigated the structure, his doubts once again
grew. But he felt deep down, a certain elation, an unexplained
uplifting mood. Perhaps it was the sheer majesty of the old place.
Maybe it was his growing excitement at finally putting his plan to
work. Whatever it was, it helped to overcome his anxiety as he
measured the level of decay, so he continued on with his task.
He was making mental notes about the various steps that would
be required to bring the old place back up to acceptable levels when a
noise behind him caught his attention. He turned just in time to see
what could have been a shadowy figure vanish behind a tree. We stared
a moment waiting to see if they reappeared but when they did not, he
continued with his work. For almost an hour he studied the outside
surfaces and then with a deep breath, he mounted the front porch.
As he pushed the front door open, the hinges squealed their
protest. It sent tingles up and down his spine, and caused him to
wince. The darkness within was punctuated with a smell of old decay.
It took several moments for his eyes to adjust before he entered.
Here too he saw the tolls of age old neglect. Wall paper sagged,
ceiling tiles dangled, stair railings lay on the floor.
There were no electric lights that he could see, only gas
lamps scattered along the walls and various places hanging from the
ceiling. He realized the job was much bigger than he had imagined,
but still, he had the feeling that this was a place of majesty and
that the proper attention would reap great rewards.
He wandered from room to room and as he entered one of the
bedroom, was startled by an old woman in a wheel chair. "And you,
suh, must be Mr O'Rylie," she said with a deep southern accent, almost
whispered in a weak voice.
"Yes, ma'am. That would be me. And who, may I ask, are you?"
he answered her.
"Why I am Evangeline Taska', suh. I and my late husband have
been the sole care tacka's of this estate for many ye'ahs. I am so
pleased to make yo acquaintance suh," she finished.
"The pleasure is all mine Madam. I was not expecting to find
anyone here. It was not mentioned to me that I should expect anyone,"
Tom informed her. He was a young man in his twenties but he had been
raised to respect the elderly and Evangeline was quite elderly, and
seemingly equally frail. Her skin was almost transparent, but spotted
with age, and there was very little flesh veiling her bones. Her
sparse, but neatly brushed hair was thinly pigmented in silver. He
would have easily believed her age to be over a hundred years old.
"Could you kind suh, roll me out onto the porch now. I am
expecting a suita' to wisk me away. He should be arriving at any
moment," she said with a soft chuckle.
"It would be my pleasure Madam. And my I offer you a mint
julep from the kitchen while you wait?" he teased her.
"Why of course you may. I'll take mine with a slice of lime
and three cubes of ice," she added. "I really would fancy a glass of
watah," she finished with a soft sigh.
The old wheelchair seemed in the same sad state as the
building, but he found and set the wheel locks once out on the porch.
"Right away on the water Madam."
He re-entered the house and found the kitchen. There was a
pump over the sink and he found crystal glasses in a pantry. He
pumped several strokes before the water flowed and he carefully filled
the glass. As he returned to the porch, he found it empty. "Madam,"
he called out. "Evangeline!" He got no answer. Only then did he
notice that the water in the glass was dark with sediment and
suspended crud. "Strange. That was very strange." But there was no
sign of the old woman and after searching the house, he saw no sign of
her presence, so he had to assume that her suitor, or someone, had
indeed arrived and taken her away. Only the wheelchair remained.
"I need a new well. And electricity. And lord knows
whatelse," he mumbled. Darkness was beginning to overtake the place,
and he decided to drive back into town for the night, and rent a room.
Pulling the protesting door back into place, he turned to look one
more time before leaving. Maybe it was the darkness hiding the worse
details, but somehow the house looked better than it did when he first
arrived. Or maybe he was just getting used to the challenge at hand.
Either way, he was feeling pretty good about the place, even though it
was sure to be the biggest challenge he had ever taken on. He was
ready for this though he reminded himself as he drove off.