Chapter Text
The Tree: Spring 1860
Spring 1860. James Vanderboom arrived at Rusty Lake. His uncle had just passed away under mysterious circumstances. James was his uncle’s only heir. He had no idea of the events that would unfold and change his life.
James struggled slightly to walk along the dirt path as Oscar jumped between his feet. The young Boston terrier was far more excited to arrive than he was. James had never been close with his uncle William, but a death in the family was never enjoyable and the prospect of maintaining a house so big alone was daunting. Finally, he arrived. James was a simple man, wearing a plain cream shirt, pants with suspenders, and a straw hat, all of which were worn. He carried with him a briefcase that had been given to him along with the deed just prior. Setting the briefcase down James took in his surroundings. The property was sizable, containing the house itself and a sturdy well that sat by the entrance of the front yard. From the outside, the house had two main stories along with what looked like a small attic. The paneling was a time-worn white and the roof was a pleasant gray. James stepped back and pulled the letter that was sent to him a few days ago, informing him of his uncle’s passing, out of his shirt pocket
“Dear James,” It began. “I regret to inform you that your uncle has passed away. He has left you his house and a very special seed. Plant it and start your own family”
Along with the official seal of Rusty Lake stamped on the top, three numbers had been scrolled on the bottom with red ink, “5 7 2”. Looking at the briefcase, James noticed for the first time that it was locked, requiring a three-number combination. He laid the briefcase on its side and methodically entered the numbers he’d been given. There was a soft click and the lock flipped open. Inside were two objects, both of which he’d felt loosely rattle around when he walked with it before. James first took note of a decently sized bone that was loose inside the briefcase. It was disconcerting, to say the least, but James attempted to rationalize what had been given to him. He didn’t know his uncle very well and perhaps this was just his strange form of humor. He took the bone and threw it to Oscar, rightfully presuming he’d find more meaning in it than he did.
Along with the bone, the case contained one other object, a small, mildly ornate box. This one required no passcode, instead, there was a piece that James simply slid from one side to the other, feeling as the spring inside clicked and the box opened. Once opened the box was cushioned with a soft red fabric and placed on top was a small germinating seed. Putting something so mundane in a locked case was peculiar, but planting it was apparently what his uncle wanted, and who was he to deny a dead man’s simple request. James looked back around the yard. Choosing where to plant it took no time at all, as Oscar had already excitedly dug a hole in the ground upon receiving the bone.
James noticed the watering can beside the fence and easily hooked it up to the well. Moments later a full can of water rose to the top and James set it down beside the dug-up earth. He bent down to the briefcase once more and picked up the seed with two fingers. Then he gingerly buried it, making sure to leave its one small leaf exposed. He tipped the watering can to give it a healthy drink of water. Almost immediately upon watering the small piece of green sticking out of the ground stretched and grew. Within a moment it became a decently sized sapling. James only stared, taken aback by the seed whose specialness was now clear to him. He removed his hat, half for reverence the other for a confused and shocked need to do something with his hands. After regaining his composure James once again took a moment to look at the property around him. Unfortunate and strange circumstances aside, he had been given a gift, and he intended to make the most of it.
The House: Spring 1860
A day or so had passed since James first arrived at the house. He had few belongings to begin with so moving them in took no time at all. Still, the house was old and left dormant in the time between his uncle's passing and his arrival. Thus, there was work to be done. At this time James found himself outside on an overcast day, attempting to clear a bird’s nest off the first-floor overhang. The stool he brought out was still unable to fill the gap as James waved his arm high, trying yet failing to reach the cluster of twigs sitting firmly on his roof. Slightly annoyed, James stepped off the stool. His eyes wandered to the sapling, which had grown even more since its initial planting.
A leafless branch grew from the sapling’s side, blowing weakly in the breeze. James stepped towards the young plant and took hold of the twig, taking a few twists to fully snap it off. With the stick in hand, James returned to the stool and attempted once more to reach the nest. Even with the help, it still took a few pokes to loosen the nest’s hold and send it plummeting to the ground. The nest landed with much more of a thud than he had expected. Stepping down to get a closer look at the nest James noticed a small black shape in the center of it. The gray speckled egg wasn’t miniature, but it seemed too small to have made such a loud thud. Furthermore, the egg showed no cracks despite its reasonable fall.
Although, it didn’t remain whole for very long. Almost as soon as James bent down to get a closer look, the egg began to shift and crack. Within moments the egg split open and a small black bird emerged already baring its feathers, it chirped at James. He struggled for a moment to react, blinking tightly and shaking his head quickly. But despite James’ actions the baby bird continued staring at him, repeatedly chirping, the high-pitched noise beginning to drill into his ears. Finally, he snapped out of it, realizing what the bird was asking of him. It was hungry, however strange the situation it was still just a baby bird. So James stood and made his way to the two potted plants he’d placed by the fence a few days ago, hoping to find an insect to dull the bird’s incessant cries.
He began to dig through the dirt within the pot, feeling around for anything moving. Just as he noticed a worm surface as he upturned the soil, James’ fingers hit something else hard. He knew he wasn’t reaching deep enough to touch the pot’s bottom and the object he felt slick like glass. He tilted the pot to the side, dumping out the worm, a pile of dirt, and a faintly blue gem. James immediately tossed the pot aside and picked up the multifaceted gemstone that sat so quaintly in the dirt. He turned it over in his hand multiple times, he wondered if his uncle may have hidden the gem for safe keeping and died before he had a chance to retrieve it.
He would’ve looked at it longer had the bird’s shrill chirping not made it impossible to think. He quickly placed the gem in his pocket and picked up the worm, walking it over to the nest. In a moment the worm was gone and the noise had stopped. Not only was the worm gone, but the bird quickly was too. The newly hatched chick stood and flew off. It seemed so unnatural, the way a bird, too young to have its tail feathers, simply flapped its wings and was carried away.
James looked back at the nest, there was no trace of the bird, as the shell had disappeared as well. But instead of an empty nest, there was a glossy object sitting in the middle. A gemstone, this one green but the same shape as the last one, was left behind. He pulled the blue gem from his pocket and compared it to the green one. Upon further inspection the gem wasn’t just the same shape as the other one, it was exactly the same shape. They were the same size, same weight, identical as if they had been cast in a mold, only varying in color. James stood, still holding one gem in each hand.
He walked back to the house, wondering if he had a magnifying glass that he could use to further inspect the gems. However, as he walked past the window James stopped dead in his tracks. Looking in the large window, James was sure he was losing his mind. There on the pane sat another gem as if it were waiting for him. He held the blue and green gems in one hand while he lightly tapped through the glass at the other one. He tapped once, twice, no real motive other than to see it shake with the glass, wanting to know it had real, solid purchase on the pane. On the third tap, however, there was a sharp noise as the glass around the gemstone cracked. At that moment James swore he saw a figure stare back at him through the glass. For just a brief second a shadowy shape with the long beak of a bird stood there in his home. But when it all faded he was just met with a broken patch in his window and the red gem fell out into his hand.
When James walked over to the front door he didn’t need to try it to know it was locked. He knew it didn’t want him coming in yet. It was then he saw the concave shapes in the door, ones he was sure weren’t there before today. Immediately, he knew the shapes and what they wanted. He took the gemstones and slotted them perfectly into the door. There was the sound of a latch moving and the door was open.
James stood in the open doorway and looked at the house within. There was something here, something he needed to understand, something he needed to prove himself to. And he was determined to find out what.
The Uncle: Summer 1860
As night fell over Rusty Lake, James tiredly searched the house. The drawer where he kept his hatchet had somehow locked itself, and James had apparently misplaced the key. He had hoped lighting a fire to rest by would be a simple and relaxing task, but it appeared he couldn't even have that in this house. Having searched every reasonable place the key could’ve been placed he took to scouring every nook and cranny the house had to offer.
There was a jar of water on one of the dressers, James hadn’t gotten around to moving it yet. While investigating the top of the dresser, searching for the key, his eyes went to the picture framed above it. It was a photograph of his uncles William and Aldous, one rounder with a full beard and the other slimmer in a black top hat and suit. The old men seemed to stare back at James as he eyed the photo. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the top corner of the picture was coming out of the frame, slightly dog-eared. James took the corner and pulled it diagonally, ripping the picture free from its golden frame.
Behind the photograph, sketched onto the back of the frame itself, were several images. The most noticeable was in the middle, a drawing of a jar with a heart inside, “plt. Cor” written beside it. Below the larger jar were nine smaller ones, each with different things fillings them. A foot, a lock of hair, two eyes, teeth, two different liquids, a brain, and a tongue. While viewing the sketches James noticed a small black object stuck between the frame and its back. He reached up and pulled out the drawer key he’d been searching for. Something about the thing in the house wanting him to see those drawings was unsettling. But if James was to take control of his home he couldn’t be caught up in every small oddity.
James unlocked the drawer and retrieved his hatchet. Too tired to go outside and risk being locked out again, James settled on splitting a log for the fire right there in the living room. With a few good swings, the log was in manageable pieces and James lit a small fire. The warmth was calming and soon James found himself drifting to sleep in his chair. But there was something in the house that could not rest yet, there was still work to be done.
The thing in the house took a key, one hidden hooked in the fireplace, and with it swung open the interior shutters, letting moonlight leak into the house. The entity went to the dresser with the jar on top and silently pressed hidden buttons on its front. Inside a timepiece hung, its hands set to eight twenty-five. The thing in the house went to the grandfather clock by the wall and slowly it turned the hands to eight twenty-five. There was a click and the clock shook. It broke, the face falling down and the front coming off its hinges. And there, crammed into the clock’s body, was William Vanderboom’s body. The same round man from the picture now fell to the ground as the clock gave way and the door was now completely off.
William’s body lay there, still bent as he was to fit into the clock’s insides. The thing in the house approached him and it went inside. It traveled through his chest and went out his mouth, taking his heart with it. It took the heart and placed it into the jar on the dresser with a soft splash. The thing in the house was full of energy. For now, the work could really begin.