💾 Archived View for drewdevault.com › 2021 › 10 › 31 › Spooky.gmi captured on 2021-11-30 at 19:37:34. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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The fleeting full moon peeks through a gap in dense clouds, illuminating the derelict mansion before you. A wolf sounds a howl in the distance, and a flash of lightning precedes a tremendous thunderclap. You've struggled through this terrible storm for a full two days, and seek shelter within this remote and ancient house. The moon recedes, and a fierce wind bites at the trees, rattling the autumn leaves and slamming the door shut behind you. The angry shout of the door, driven into its frame with great force, drives you deeper into the building.
Before you lies the great hall, spacious and opulent, though the walls press in despite the grandeur. Each step on its cold tile floors echoes back as if returned from an empty room twice its size. In the hearth, the last embers of a recent fire reach futile red fingers into deep wells of darkness throughout the room, scantly lighting scores of gold, silver, and porcelain fixtures and house-things, neglected beneath a deep layer of dust and cobwebs. All the while, the rain batters at the window panes, and the wind pesters the shutters, and lighting casts brief and creeping silhouettes through the windows, and as each strike wanes, low thunder rumbles in alongside the returning darkness.
You take a step towards the fire, intending to restrengthen it with the wood lying near the hearth, and freeze — as from deep within, the bellows of an organ sound forth, coming at once from the heart of the building, but seemingly also from the very walls and floors. Expert fingers play a grand and eerie concerto, and though it must be without accompaniment, you hear, in your head alone, the ghostly sounds of an unseen orchestra playing its part. The thunder crashes along, its storming percussions sounding in perfect time. And as the music reaches its crescendo, the rain and winds and thunder retreats, and the world seems to hold its breath in silence. Your very heartbeat stills, afraid to break the spell.
A deep, old, coarse voice pours out from all around you.
“In this place,
it's very scary;
and what lies within,
is old and damp,
and very hairy.”
The last of the fire burns out, the air chills and a moist breath upon your nape sends a creep up your spine, and something right behind you whispers into your ear…
“Burma Shave”
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“On a dark and stormy night...” was published on October 31, 2021.
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