Chapter Text
Shivering in the cold, early morning air, Keith stared blankly up at the old house sat on top of the steep hill that he had somehow managed to get his old, beat up, right on the verge of dying car up. Arms crossed firmly over his chest, the frigid breeze blowing through biting his skin through his thin hoodie, Keith let his gaze roam over the house, taking in the weathered wood, battered shutters, cracked pathway leading up to the large, wrap around porch. Well…in all honesty, he was shocked that there was even a house here. On the drive up, following behind the woman who introduced herself as the landlady, he’d been fully expecting to be led out into the middle of nowhere, drugged and dragged off to perform hard labor in some country no one’s ever heard of.
Jerking her bright pink parka more tightly around her, the landlady stomped down the stairs, her wrinkled face either screwed up in disgust at the cold or the fact that Keith was just kind of standing there, staring dumbly at the house.
“Well?” She rasped in a voice that clearly indicated she probably smoked a pack of cigarettes for breakfast, lunch and dinner instead of eating food, “What do you think?”
“There’s a house.” Keith said honestly, dropping his gaze to look at her. The corners of his lips curled up into a rueful smile, “Wasn’t expecting that.”
To his surprise, the landlady snorted, a glint of amusement gleaming in her beady eyes, “Ah well, I can understand that. I’ll be honest, surprised you even showed. It was me who sent you the message. Felt like a damn idiot writing it, thinking to myself ‘who is going to believe this?’ but looks like you were either stupid or desperate enough to take the risk.”
Honestly, probably a lot of both, with a heavy leaning towards desperate. Considering he’d been homeless for two months now, living out of the back of his tiny car, just trying to survive from one puny paycheck to the next…yeah, desperate seemed about right. Desperate enough to take the stupidly dangerous risk that’d been presented to him a week ago. Truth be told, he still wasn’t sure how the landlady (Martha? He felt like her name was Martha, she looked like a Martha – she introduced herself at some point but he’d been too nauseous with anxiety to remember it) had gotten the two paragraph long letter she’d sent to inform him of his “inheritance”.
Speaking of which, Keith thought now was a good as time as ever, “Gotta ask, though. How did you know where to address the envelope to?”
Again, the landlady snorted, waving one thin, veiny hand, “I’ll tell you that inside. Get your scrawny butt moving.”
With that, she turned on her heel, got back up the stairs and went back inside. Keith lingered for a while longer, still just kind of reeling from the fact that he had a house, he actually had a house, this was now his house, the house was his. As he found more and more ways to say that there was currently a house in his possession, Keith followed after the landlady, taking his first step inside his newly acquired abode. To his shock, the inside was shockingly clean. Though, considering the fact that the moment he stepped in, he was slapped across the face by the heavy scent of lemony cleaning shit, it was pretty obviously that the place had been cleaned recently. Very recently, like probably last night after he’d called the number included in the letter he got to let the sender know he would be coming kind of recent.
Slowly walking in further, the clump of his shoes against the old wood floors echoing throughout the otherwise quiet house, he investigated the rooms he passed through the doorway. Another surprise: the house came with furniture, and not shitty furniture either. In what he assumed was the living room were two decent sized couches and a coffee table. There was a dining room with a small table with a couple of chairs scooched up close to it. Further down, past the stairs that led up to the dark second floor was the kitchen, where the landlady was making a pot of coffee. Keith’s jaw dropped a little as he wordlessly looked around. Fridge…oven…microwave…coffee maker…toaster…even a fucking, goddamn blender…he had a blender. He actually had a blender.
“Sorry the appliances are a little beat up.” The landlady spoke up, most likely noticing his silence, which she might’ve interpreted as disappointment.
“Didn’t even notice.” Keith said quietly, walking over to the fridge and lightly wrapping his fingers around the handle. When he tugged open the door, just to get a feel for how big it was on the inside, another surprise was waiting for him. There was food in there! Eggs, milk, butter, some lunchmeat, lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, hotdogs, pre-cooked bacon, condiments! There was even a cake! There was a fucking chocolate cake smothered in icing right in front of him! He could smell the sugar wafting up from the decadent gloss of chocolate! His stomach growled loudly, viciously reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning. A sudden intense urge to grab a handful of that delicious looking cake and shovel it into his mouth. Somehow, he managed to resist but had to close the fridge door to do so.
“There’s more in the cupboards.” The landlady spoke up from behind him, “Your grandfather left some money with me with the request that there’d be some food waiting here for you when you showed.” She paused for a moment then added gently, “Think he knew that you were in a bad way.”
“You mind if I fix something?” He asked, ignoring her last statement. Not out of embarrassment but because it was majorly creepy that someone he had never spoken to, met, seen or even knew existed might’ve known of his shitty as fuck situation.
“Go for it. You want some coffee?”
“Yes, please. And,” he tugged open the fridge door once more, grabbing everything to make a quick sandwich, “thank you. I appreciate you going through the trouble.”
She waved a hand dismissively but looked pleased, “Don’t mention it. Your grandfather was a good friend of mine. Least I can do for his grandson.”
Dropping everything down onto the counter, Keith quickly located the bread and set about making himself a sandwich, “How did you know where to address the envelope?”
“I didn’t.” She replied with a shrug, pouring both her and Keith a mug of coffee, “God, can’t even imagine how much that must’ve freaked you out. Old fashioned letter coming out of nowhere, delivered to your car in a parking lot.” Shaking her head in bemusement, she passed him one of the mugs, which was blissfully warm in his hand, “Back to the point, though. I didn’t, your grandfather did. Now, I don’t mean to be creepy or anything but he left me instructions. Part of it was how to get the letter to you. That was how I knew where to send it.”
“It wasn’t a post office worker who delivered it.” Keith said, feeling very creeped out despite her not meaning to do so. How could he not be freaked out about this entire thing? A parking lot, he had been in a freaking parking lot. Not only that, but he had been in a parking lot on the outskirts of town and it was for a building that no one used anymore. It was a freaking abandoned dollar store parking lot that he was camping out in, and some dude he had never seen before in his life pulled up right beside him, got out, knocked on his driver’s side window, handed him the letter then just…drove off. No words exchanged. Handed him the letter, then off he went, just like that.
“No, didn’t think it would be. Your grandfather’s instructions said to send it to someone he referred to only as a ‘friend’ since he was pretty damn sure the post office wouldn’t deliver a letter to some random car in some random parking lot.”
“How did he know?”
Letting out a low, raspy bark of laughter, the landlady shook her head, “I don’t know. I really don’t know. Honestly,” she waved her hand vaguely, “all of this? Bizarre. Completely bizarre. I don’t know how he knew any of this, and obviously couldn’t ask him. Be honest with you, though – even if he was still alive, I wouldn’t ask him. I wouldn’t want to know how he knew.”
“Why’s that?”
She slurped on her coffee, sighed a little then offered a small smile, “Because he was a fucking freak, that’s why.”
Keith blinked. Well…well, then, that was not the answer he was expecting but honestly? After getting over the initial shock of her just saying that point blank to his face…yeah, that seemed to fit right into the whole thing that was going on here. Taking a big chomp out of his sandwich, ascending straight up into heaven for a few moments as the wonderful saltiness of the mustard, the savoryness of the ham, the crisp crunch of the lettuce spread across his tongue, Keith chewed slowly, savoring everything.
“Mind if I ask you something?” She asked, watching him with an amused expression.
“Sure.” He replied, wiping a glob of mustard from the side of his mouth.
“Are you really his grandson?”
“No idea.” Keith said easily, setting the sandwich done and brushing the crumbs from his hand. Knew this question was going to be coming at some point so might as well get it all out in the open now before people got the wrong idea, “Honestly, I don’t know. I imagine I have to have some grandparents but I never knew them.”
The landlady hesitated for a moment for cautiously venturing, “Your parents-“
“Gone.” Keith firmly interrupted her, “So no.”
“Well,” she said after an awkward pause, “not like it’s any of my business.”
“Did he ever mention having kids? Grandkids?”
“No. Never saw or heard him mention a wife or girlfriend either. Granted, though, he only lived here for around ten years. Considering that he was in his 70s, ain’t too strange to think that he might’ve had a family or, at least, a kid at some point. Before he-“ she paused, her words catching, then gave her head a shake, “Know what? That’s a story for another day. Point is, he never mentioned it but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”
Nodding in agreement, wondering what she was going to say before she cut herself off, Keith considered bringing it up then decided against it. Apparently, that was a story for another day so he’d wait for another day to come around before asking – that is, if it wasn’t brought up before then. He had a feeling that it probably would be. Something weird surrounded the man who was, supposedly, his grandfather – a particular kind of weirdness that people were always eager to talk about so, yeah, definitely got the feeling that he was going to know sooner, rather than later what all happened with him. Gobbling up the rest of his sandwich, he put everything away then headed back out towards the living room.
“You got any questions?” The landlady asked, following after him.
“No, I-“ Keith stopped, blinking in confusion. He was in the foyer, right next to the living room, right where he had been earlier but hadn’t noticed something that he probably should have noticed from the getgo. There were small hallways on either side of the stairs, one led to the kitchen, the other ended in what, at first glance, seemed to be just a wall but upon closer inspection, Keith realized that it wasn’t just a wall, there was a door. That in of itself wasn’t that startling since well, it was just a door but, at the same time…it didn’t seem to be just a door. Something about it was weird. Something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Ah, there we go. Was waiting for you to notice that.” The landlady laughed, “Surprised you didn’t the moment you walked in.”
He glanced over at her, a little unnerved by her huge grin then walked down the hallway, reaching out to settle the tip of his fingers against the smooth, painted wood. Yup…felt like how he expected it too. That was…wood, right there but…maybe he was just imagining it, the weirdness of the moment and all that but he could swear that there was something weird going on underneath his fingers. Not a vibration, not a movement he could physically feel. Something else, something that thrummed like a heartbeat through his fingers. Frowning, he grabbed hold of the cold, metal doorknob and gave it a tug. Nothing happened. He tugged hard. Still nothing, the door didn’t budge an inch.
“Don’t bother. It doesn’t open.”
Releasing the doorknob, he backed up silently, staring at the…weird, the weird fucking door for a moment then turned back to her, “What the fuck is it?”
Letting out a bark of laughter, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her parka, “See, I think I’m gonna like you. You get right to the point. Simply put? I don’t know what the fuck it is. That door has been there for as long as the house has been here – that being a good hundred years or so. No one knows why it’s there. Like I said, it doesn’t open. Don’t know if you noticed but there’s no keyhole so no key to open it.”
“Why not get a crowbar and-“
“We have.” She cut him off with a snort, “And we aren’t the first either. Family I bought the house from twenty years ago told me they tried to force it, to no luck. Wouldn’t budge. Decided when I was doing some renovations that I’d give it a go. Well, not me. I got some of the guys working with me to take a crack at it. These weren’t puny guys, either.”
“No luck?” Keith asked, eyeing the door suspiciously.
“No luck. They could get the crowbar underneath it but after that? They might as well have been trying to uproot a mountain. Damn thing didn’t even creak or groan under the pressure.”
“Is it affixed to the wall?”
“If it is then there must be some fucking strong ass nails or glue holding it there.” She shook her head, then flashed a strangely mischievous smile, “Or the Fae might be holding it closed with her magic.”
Chuckling merrily to herself as though she had just made the funniest joke in the world, the landlady started heading towards the front door, leaving Keith standing there with a bamboozled expression on his face. Magic? Fae? Like…faeries? Elves? What constituted as fae? More to the point, where the frick had that come from? Maybe it had to do with a local legend or something. Or she might just be fucking with him…in fact, he was pretty damn sure that was what she was doing. Seemed like the kind of lady who’d spin that yarn for the new folks to get them to do something stupid.
Glancing at the door one last time, he brushed a hand through his hair then turned away, following after the landlady. She was standing on the porch, slowly tapping away on her phone. When he stepped out to join her, she said, “By the way, your grandfather left this for you.”
Reaching into one of what seemed to be many pockets, she pulled out a thick envelope, and handed it over to him with a sly smile, “Don’t spend it all in one night. That’s meant to hold you over till you can find a job.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” Keith replied, shoving the envelope into the pocket of his hoodie without even glancing at it. “Thank you for everything. I appreciate it.”
“Sure thing, hon. I left my phone number and keys to the house on the kitchen table. If you have any problems, feel free to give me a ring. Piece of advice?”
“Yes ma’am?”
“We might be a small town but we ain’t busybodies. You wanna be left alone, you’ll be left alone but if you want that, then don’t shop in town. Go to Ford, town about fifteen minutes from here.”
Keith remained silent for a moment then sighed, “I’m not too concerned about being left alone. Besides, I need to get a job and I’d rather it be close by since I don’t know how much longer my car will last so hiding away won’t help me much. Also,” he glanced at her out of the side of his eye, “if I go into town, can I learn more of just what the fuck is going on here?”
“Kiddo, you go into town and you’re gonna learn more than you ever wanted to know.”
“Better than knowing nothing.” He responded with a shrug.
“Hah, you got a point. Don’t know if you’ll feel the same after learning ‘bout all the weirdness that surrounds this house, and your grandfather but it’s a point. You good from here?”
“Yes ma’am, thank you.”
“Alright, I’m heading out. Nice to meet ya, Keith. Take a couple of days, get adjusted, sleep in, eat till you nearly puke then come see me. I’ll make sure you have a job by the end of the week.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“And drop the ma’am bullshit.” She shot him a hard smile, “Just Madeline is fine. I’ll see ya.”
With that, she walked back, briskly striding over to her car. Keith stayed where he was until she had driven off, leaving behind only a white puff of exhaust then went on down to his car, popped open the trunk and pulled out the three medium sized boxes that held every single thing he owned. So, not a Martha. Had an M-name so he got kind of close but definitely not a Martha. He would’ve never guessed Madeline so he was glad that she reminded him of her name without him having to ask. He got the feeling that she might’ve been annoyed that he forgot.
Stacking each of the boxes on top of the other, he carried the three inside then dropped them in the foyer. One was just clothes, so it’d go upstairs where he assumed the bedroom was. The other two were miscellaneous, and he had no intention of unpacking either of them. When all this inevitably ended up going sour – maybe the real grandson showed up, maybe the landlady decided to sell the house, maybe he was run out of town for being the grandson of a ‘freak’, there were so many things that could go wrong – he didn’t want to have to go through the process of packing up everything he owned again. First time was already bad enough. His clothes…he’d wash them, that was for certain then he might fold everything back up and leave them in the box till he wore them.
Figuring that was something he could decide later, Keith grabbed the clothes box, shoved the other two boxes to the side with his foot then headed up. There were three rooms upstairs – two bedrooms and a full bath. Obviously, he took the larger of the two rooms – one, because it was bigger; two, because it had the comfier looking bed, three, because there was actually a tv in there (a small, older one that probably got shit reception but still a motherfucking television) and four, it was closer to the bathroom. Dropping the box down onto the floor, he flopped himself down onto the bed, pressing his cheek against the soft comforter. There he lay for several moments, not really looking at anything, not really thinking much of anything, just kind of existing for a little.
This…all of this…he was still a little bit convinced that none of it was really happening. It was all just some highly detailed fever dream. Like, come on…a grandfather he didn’t even know existed up and dies, leaves him a fully furnished house and money to pay for groceries till he can find a job…how could he even start to believe that any of this was legit? Okay, so it probably wasn’t a dream – there was only so far that kind of explanation can be stretched – but what exactly was all this then? A massive scam? A hoax? Was he being lured out into the middle of nowhere so some satanic cult could harvest his organs in the dead of night? Alright, that was pushing it a little but the point fucking remained: what the fuck was all this?
Slowly rolling over onto his back, Keith pulled out the letter he’d gotten a few days ago – the one that had been delivered straight to his car in the middle of an abandoned parking lot by some anonymous dude. It was one he had read over probably a million times by now, and read again while he was lying there. The message was insultingly clinical and brief:
Hello, Keith.
I am James Kogane, your Grandfather. If you’re receiving this letter, then I’ve passed on. To you, I leave all my worldly possession, including my house. Below is the address, and the phone number of Ms. Dorsett, the landlady. She has been informed of the situation and will be waiting your call. May the fireflies guide you.
Sincerely,
Your Grandfather, James Kogane.
And that was pretty much it in a way of explanation. Under the brief note, just as written, was a hastily written address and phone number. After he got the letter, he had stared down at it for probably around an hour before crumpling it up, tossing it in the backseat and going about his way. What an absolute load of crock, he had thought furiously to himself. He half wanted to call up the lady listed and scream her ear off for trying to scam people like that. Sure, he was smart enough to recognize shit when he smelled it but if they were going after homeless people, then there were definitely some out there who were desperate enough to actually believe that whole shlock was real.
There, the wad of paper had remained for about a week, untouched, unmoved, mostly forgotten about…that is, until he lost his part time job as a stocker at the local supermarket. On the same day, his car’s back tire blew in the middle of the city, meaning he not only needed a tow but had to replace the tire as well. Suddenly, he found himself without any income, spending near every cent he had to get his car operational again and ended the day with three dollars and seventy-five cents to his name.
Lowest fucking night of his life. So low that he laid down on the cold, hard asphalt and seriously considered just never getting back up. So low that when he did inevitably get up (mostly because it had begun to rain) and got into his car, catching sight of the wadded up piece of paper out of the corner of his eye, he snagged it, smoothed it out and called the number at the bottom of the page, internally screeching at himself that he was being stupid, that there was no way this was a good or real thing. Ms. Dorsett picked up, told him how to get where he needed to go, arranged a meet up time and that was that.
And here he was. Actually in a fucking house. Lying on a real fucking bed for the first time in two years. There was food downstairs, money in his pocket, a roof over his head…and he…he felt like straight bolting back to his car, driving back to that abandoned parking lot and just straight forgetting all of this. Leave the money, leave the keys, close the door up tight then run or drive, in this instance. Drive until he was back in that familiar setting where it could get worse, it could easily get worse but fuck, least he wouldn’t be in a situation where he could get comfortable, peaceful, even. Least he’d already be at the goddamn bottom so he wouldn’t have that much further to fall.
Here…he was in a house. It was, supposedly, his house. There was food, there was a bathroom, there was a fucking goddamn television!
If he got comfortable here…when he fell…because he always did, he didn’t know if he could get up from that. He didn’t know if he could go through a fall like that again.
Sighing heavily, Keith scrubbed at his face. He…he would figure out what to do later. As of right now, he was not going to continue lying here, repeating endlessly that this was a stupid fucking idea and he should bolt while he still had the chance. Instead, he was going to get something else to eat – that sandwich hadn’t been anywhere near enough – then he was going to take a shower. After that? He’d figure that out when he got there. Point was, he needed to get there first. With that decided, Keith got up off the bed, dropped the letter and the envelope full of money onto the cover, and marched his butt downstairs to make probably like five more sandwiches…as well as to fully investigate the cupboards and pantry to see what all was waiting for him.
-
Keith awoke with an unpleasant jolt, blinking blearily in the dim light. For a moment, he forgot where he was. When the first thing he saw wasn’t the familiar ceiling of his old car but instead the dark window looking to the outside, he went tumbling off the bed with a loud, sharp gasp, frantically grabbing for the pocket knife he kept underneath the passenger side seat. It was on his way down to the wooden floor that he saw the light coming down the hallway, peeking in through the cracked door to the bedroom he picked, and reality came crashing in as his butt slammed hard against the cold floor. Grimacing in pain, reaching down to rub his aching behind, Keith groaned, blinked hard a couple times to clear the sleep from his eyes then looked around.
Nothing seemed to be amiss. Other than the thundering of his heart in his ears, he couldn’t pick up on any other sounds. The old digital clock sitting on top of the bedside table and looked like was manufactured back in the 80s read 12:03. Pushing himself up off the floor, brushing nonexistent dust off his ass, Keith crept over to the door to take a quick peek out. From the little bit he could see, there was nothing going on out there. Truth be told, he was halfway convinced that nothing specific had woken up him – he just woke up as he often did, panicked because he was in a new place and was now overreacting because waking up like that in the middle of the night while you’re camping in a parking lot never translated to okay or good things. Still, despite knowing that, there was something else he knew: if he didn’t check the entire house from top to bottom, including the surrounding area outside, he was never going to get back to sleep.
It was only midnight. Earlier, after pretty much wandering through the house for an hour, idly munching on the stack of sandwiches he made, he made up his mind: at ten am the next day, he was going to sit down at that small kitchen table, logically think about all of this and decide what would be done. That date he had made with himself was over 10 hours away. When he got to that time, he wanted to be full rested, which meant getting some fucking sleep. So, even though he understood it was probably nothing, he still slipped out of the bedroom and began heading towards the stairs. There was a flashlight in the kitchen so he would make that his first stop. Didn’t exactly want to go stumbling through the house in the dark.
When his foot hit the first stair, it quickly became very apparent that he hadn’t just woken up for no reason. A startled yelp rippled its way out of his lungs as a stupidly loud noise that kind of sounded like fabric ripping came from…somewhere. Stumbling backwards, a sickening jolt wracking his body when his back made contact with the cold wall, Keith stared down the stairs, straining to see in the darkness. Little bit of an obvious question but what in the holy fuck was that? A question he didn’t have a fucking answer to, obviously! Struggling to control the pace of his breathing, Keith hesitantly pushed himself off the wall, and crept forward, back towards the top of the stairs. If it had just been like a loud banging noise or like clattering, as though something had been knocked over, that would have been scary but at least explainable?
There was shit outside and inside that could be knocked over or tossed about. What the fuck was in or outside this house that could produce such an immense tearing noise? That had literally sounded like the temple veil ripping! There were curtains in the house but all of them were thin, flimsy – none of them had the heft to create that kind of volume. Giving his head a hard shake, Keith made himself slowly descend the stairs. Wasn’t going to get any answers just standing there. First, flashlight. He needed to find that goddamn flashlight so he could actually see. It was a little easier to make himself move with a clear destination, a decided purpose in mind.
Unfortunately, that purpose went straight out the fucking window when he got to the bottom of the stairs and, in his still very much panicked state, turned the wrong way, putting himself at the start of the hallway that lead to the door that, supposedly, couldn’t open. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. He’d just sigh in exasperation, brushed a hand through his hair and go the right way. Instead of doing that, he froze, his stomach dropping all the way down to his ankles, and his lungs deciding that they didn’t want to work properly for a bit. By that point, his eyes had adjusted enough to the dark that he could make out where he was going. There was also a good amount of moonlight filtering in from the inside. All combined, it allowed him to see that the end of the hallway, the door that no one could open, not even a bunch of burly men, was open.
It was wide open.
The door was pressed up against the adjacent wall, revealing…well, not much of anything. Beyond the opening in the wall, there was nothing but darkness.
Keith’s feet started moving before his brain could fully register what he was doing. Flying into the kitchen, he yanked open all the drawers, fumbling around frantically inside them until he found the stupid flashlight. Clicking it on, his heart not even beating anymore, it was just a vibrating mass of muscle, he raced back to the hallway, pointing the trembling beam of light at the now open door. Still…nothing. It was like the light was hitting a wall of darkness, like there was just an inky mass pressing up against the doorframe, and that was what he was illuminating. Breath whistled in and out of his parted lips. With slow, jerky steps, he walked down the hallway, every nerve inside his body screaming at him to run, to get his car keys and get the hell out of dodge.
Nothing…he couldn’t see anything. The light didn’t even seem to be going through the doorway. Stopping just a few steps from the door, Keith numbly reached out one shaking hand, expecting to find something smooth, physical, like a wall or something that the light was actually illuminating that was just creating the illusion of nothing at all being there but instead, the tips of his fingers found just what he was seeing: nothing. There was nothing beyond the doorframe. His arm slipped into the darkness but didn’t disappear. It was there, he could see his arm but nothing else. Nothing at all. Taking another jerky step forward, he reached in even further. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, there was nothing there! He was just reaching into nothingness!
There was just a big empty space of darkness beyond the fucking door that the flashlight couldn’t even fucking illuminate! That’s not how light fucking worked! Unless there was something physically obstructing the light’s path, it should fucking make it visible!
“What the fuck?” Keith whispered harshly, actually managing to scare himself a little bit with his own voice. Wrenching his arm back, he stumbled away, frantically waving the flashlight around as if he moved the light fast enough, something might happen. When that, predictably, came up with zilch results, Keith came to a resounding decision.
Out. He was out. He was nopeing the hell out of there. The door somehow opening by itself was freaky enough but this? This complete defiance of the rules of reality? Nope. N-o-p-e, having his own house was not fucking worth it. He was gone. Find somewhere to park his car till morning then call Madeline to let her know thanks, but not fucking interested. Backing up the hallway, not daring to turn his back on the door, Keith only made it a couple of steps before the whole thing took a nose dive into the ‘even worse’ category. From that intense, reality altering darkness came a sound. It was soft at first, barely even audible, just a whisper across his eardrums that he was quick to dismiss.
Then it came again, louder this time. And again, and again, growing louder and louder until Keith could discern what he was hearing: movement.
Something was in the darkness.
And it was moving towards him.