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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Mystery · #1046882
A chapter of the invisible man by hg wells
The snow was still falling heavily outside The Coach and Horse Inn. The oil lamps in the parlour, the bedrooms, the dining room and kitchen were flickering in the bitter draft coming through the windows. All except for one.
The stranger slumped in his armchair dozing in and out of a dream that was becoming a nightmare. Reliving that awful day when any pride he had left was brutally taken away from him. The shouts, the screams, the pleas. Then it was all gone.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the door creak open and the light from the hall sneak into his room. Then a figure, that he recognised to be Mrs Hall, crept in and closed the door behind her. Then the only light in the dark, cold room was the small flame of the candle, quivering in Mrs Hall’s trembling hands. Because this isn’t a visit she particularly wanted to make.
He saw the silhouette of Mrs Hall’s small bony arm reach up to open the blind. ‘NO!’ he shouted. Mrs Hall obediently let her arm drop to her side. ‘Didn’t you realize yesterday that I like to be private?’ he said menacingly.
‘Erm… I’m sorry… I just thought…’ she stuttered.
‘Yeah well you thought wrong’ he said.
It was at that point that Mrs Hall noticed a change in his voice from yesterday. The normally muffled voice behind the silk serviette was gone. She couldn’t leave now. So she tiptoed slowly towards the floral print armchair, where the guest sat, relaxed, eyes closed, unaware of the woman coming towards him.
She came to stand in front of him and lowered the candle to his face. She stood rigid on the spot with a look of shock and horror on her face. The candle fell to the floor. The visitor woke with a start. He looked up, saw Mrs Hall and shot her a questioning look. As he adjusted his position on the chair, he felt something soft, even silky, in the palm of his hand. He looked down and stared with a look of terror on his face. The serviette lay in his hand. Mrs Hall continued to stare at the gap where his mouth should have been.
The stranger quickly covered his mouth with the serviette. He stood up and stamped out the flames from the candle, with his huge boot. Mrs Hall finally caught her breath and managed to whisper, ‘What happened to your mouth?’
The man walked right up to her and stared her in the face. He lowered his blue tinted glasses and Mrs Hall stared into the nothingness that was his eyes. ‘The same thing that happened to the rest of my body,’ he said in a low toned voice.
The guest walked out of the room closing the door behind him. Leaving Mrs Hall rooted to the spot. Petrified.

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