Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Louis wakes to an overcast day, looking at his watch; he sees it is well after nine. “Shit,” he exclaims, “I have already lost half of the day!” As he gets up to use the bathroom, he sees that his clothes are still not dry. “Well, there is a second reason to stay here another day.” Louis then moves on to the kitchen, remembering that there was a can of corned beef hash in the cupboard. Putting it in a pan to heat, Louis decides to wash up the dishes from last night. On a whim, Louis also washes the cans he has used while here. “These will be useful if I need to cook something small.” he thinks.

After eating his breakfast, he washes up those dishes too. Looking out the window, he sees the sun is coming out. Without haste, he gathers up his still damp clothes, and hurries out to the clothesline and throws them all over it. He does not find any clothespins, but there is no wind to speak of, so he thinks that his stuff should be ok.

Going back towards the house, he remembers his encounter from last night. He goes around to the front, and where he saw the shape, he only sees some trampled grass and broken twigs. As Louis is a person from the city, he cannot make any more of what he sees than that. “Oh well,” he thinks, “I guess I won’t ever know what it was.”

Louis decides to clean up his other traveling gear, and he seems to be stuck here for at least a few hours. Taking his pack to the kitchen, he pulls out all his gear. His hatchet seems clean, but he gives it a good wipe down since he has the time. Next, he pulls out his handsaw, a folding model he grabbed from a Wal-Mart somewhere outside of Buffalo. He then pulls out his rope, coiling it and checking it for frays. He pulls his pocketknife out and sees it has quite a bit of grime and blood from his few actual kills. Louis finds a bottlebrush under the sink and cleans all the nooks and corners. Realizing that he may be in the best place to restock, he goes out to the shed to see if there is anything useful. Seeing that it is very dark in the shed, he jogs back to the house, and grabs a flashlight from the kitchen. He looks around in the shed and sees a sight that is either a dream come true, or a museum to torture devices. Along all the walls, old farming equipment and woodworking equipment all perfectly arranged, and well oiled against the elements. Unfortunately, Louis realizes that, while they are well maintained and obviously useful, they are all much too large for him to take with him. Along the back wall though, is a workbench that would not be out of place in any man’s house.

Searching the bench, he finds a small socket set, a combination screwdriver, a small file set and a sharpening stone. He looks around for a container, and finds, strangely enough, an oilskin bag. Putting all of his finds in this bag, he heads back to the house. On his way he checks his clothes, finding them dry, he grabs them and goes inside.

Once in the kitchen, he realizes he is hungry again. Pulling open the cupboards again, he finds something else to eat. He pours it into a pan on the stove, then, starts to fold and repack his clothes. After packing and eating his lunch, Louis decides to search the house again, while it is still daylight. Starting in the bathroom, he takes what first aid supplies he may need. In the kitchen, he finds a set of camping dishes that he can pack easily.

Checking his watch again, he realizes that he may as well spend another night here, as the chances of finding another place to stay as nice as this are low. Louis goes to the room with the cot, searching again, he finds nothing new. Remembering the encounter last night, he grabs the rifle, even with no ammo it may be a powerful deterrent. Making his fourth meal in this house, he realizes that something has been unsettling about it. Louis is not sure what is causing this feeling, but he is painfully aware that it is real. Knowing that he searched the house from top to bottom three times, he decides it is just nerves. Nevertheless, he makes a makeshift barricade out of a table and an armchair in front of the stairs.

As night began to fall, Louis began to feel a little surer of himself, he was sure that all the feelings he has been having were his imagination. Settling in for a long dark night, he ensures the rifle and an axe from the shed are near him. The rifle may be only for show, but an axe is always an effective weapon. As he begins to drift off, he thinks that he hears something, but as he hears nothing else, he goes to sleep.

Hours later, Louis awakes with a start; he defiantly heard a scratching at the door. As a human would not scratch the door, they would just kick it down and attack. He stays quiet and hopes that whatever is out there will not get through the door. Suddenly, there is a crash, the door visibly shaking in its frame. Louis jumps, grabs the axe and puts the couch between him and the door. The door shudders again with a loud thump, this time a slight crack audible at the impact. Louis is worried now; does he have the ability to defend himself with an axe? The unknown nature of this attacker unnerves him. The door slams again, this time a thin crack appears in the solid oak door. A low snorting sound comes from outside. Louis hears the front porch creak, as if someone is walking across it, then a soft crunch of gravel. Louis stays quiet, hoping the ordeal is over. There is another sound, as if the sound of someone trying to run on marbles, there is another crash on the door, this time a panel from the top half flies out and hits the couch.

“This is it,” Louis thinks, “I am going to die.” This phrase seems familiar to him somehow, but this is not the time for a trip through his memories. Just as he sees a shape through the hole in the door, a larger pale shape flies through the air from the blind side of the porch. There is a growl and hiss from the other side of the door. Sounds of struggle come in from outside, Louis is petrified with fear of the battle for, what he is sure is his soul. As the battle progressed, Louis hears the porch creaking and the banister cracking. Suddenly, the sounds stop, like turning a switch off. Louis waits for several minutes, gathering his last shreds of courage. Finally, he hefting his axe, ready for anything, he creeps to the door. Looking out, he sees scraps of hair and a little blood.

“Well, if it can bleed, no matter what it is I have a chance.” Louis thinks. Looking at the damage to the door, Louis decides to move his campsite in the house to the kitchen. Although it is less secure, at least the door does not have a huge hole in it.