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Each tick chipped away at the melancholy in Norton's heart—a familiar rhythm, like boots on dirt, iron on stone. The silence between them was filled with a hissing which ended each pause in brilliant red light, seen only behind his closed eyelids. Strips of moonlight leaked in through the bedroom curtains and slid over his face. Norton let out a low sigh as he rolled onto his side. The dark corners of his room stared back at him, and he rolled over again to face the wall.
Silence returned, save for the ticking.
It was only a few minutes later that a creeping sensation clawed up his spine. The hair on the back of his neck rose. The sensation danced across the surface of his mind, and he knew what lurked in the depths of that cave had followed him to the manor…
Norton bolted upright and snatched the lantern from his bedside table. With a hiss, it was lit. A warm circle of light pushed the edges of the darkness back. He was alone. There was no one—and nothing—in the room but him. Norton slowly released his breath and placed the lantern on the bedside table. He scrubbed his hands over his face and glanced around the room.
The remaining shadows had become even darker, more impenetrable in the light of the little flame. Still, it was comforting not to feel the weight of earth above, waiting to collapse upon him. For now, Norton would focus on the challenges that lay ahead. Ambition would keep him from succumbing to his own dark memories.