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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1020455
A lost man comes to face to face with his demons and the reality he must confront them.
INEVITABLE CONFRONTATION


In front of him stood an ancient house that was visibly unstable and looked as if it would collapse at any moment. It had been deserted ages ago and the dilapidated structure was all that remained as a testament to a once brighter moment in time.

He could not identify what compelled him to investigate. Common sense briefly tempted him to suppress his curiosity, but, having developed skills years ago to ignore rational thought, he promptly dismissed the idea.

He hesitated for a moment and then confidently stepped forward onto the rustic floor of the abandoned dwelling. The furious wind slammed the door behind him and he was immediately aware of his isolation. His nostrils were greeted with an unidentifiable, but stale stench, and darkness overcame the sporadic streams of light that struggled through the narrow cracks in the walls and roof.

He reflected on his surroundings and realized that the environment in which he found himself was a glaring illustration of his own condition. These thoughts carried him to an unfamiliar place; a place that terrified him. He captured his feelings before they conquered him and locked them up in an emotional box, throwing away the key to access them.

Never one to retreat from danger, he continued. Every step he took was delicate, but assertive. He wondered if the floor would collapse, carrying him with the debris that would ultimately smother him below. He was not frightened by this possibility. As long as he could remember, he had thrived in risky situations and this certainly was no exception. He had always been physically and mentally robust. Memories of fervently seeking adventures and narrowly escaping countless misfortunes flooded his mind and he reflected fondly on these. He grinned.

“Nothing scares me,“ he thought, as he maneuvered flawlessly over the decaying floor.

A deep-rooted thought surprised him as it surfaced to his mind: “I wonder what my father would think of me now.“

“Damn you!” he whispered, as if his Dad were hiding somewhere in the blackness and would suddenly emerge if heard or seen. He ignored further contemplation about his father.

He noticed an opening in the floor about three feet in front of him. Peering into it, he observed a ladder that descended roughly six feet. The thrill of the unknown motivated him to climb down the steps.

Each rung of the ladder seemed to creak louder than the last and he doubted whether they would hold his weight. Finally, his feet reached the damp earth at the bottom and for a few seconds, there was paralyzing silence.

He could see nothing. The air was thick. He felt something brush against his leg and disappear into obscurity. He heard the faint sound of the door closing on top of the hole to the basement high above him. Then, more silence.

Oblivious to the imminent invasion of his mind by thoughts about his past, he sat down on the dirt, refused to accept defeat, and pondered his next move.



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