Figures

Chapter 2: Figures

I was standing in an old, abandoned, pale white house that faced the old mountains. It was a completely starless night, as I could see by staring through the windows as I passed through. The moon was covered by think, black clouds that loomed over the house. The snow was falling rapidly, the cold it created sending shivers down my spine as I went through the seemingly endless corridors trying to find some way out. Every step I took made me created fear inside of me as I kept going to the same rooms, the same hallways, there never seemed to be a change in the design of the house as I made my way through it. One of the pictures was of an old man smoking a pipe, his hood thrown off his head as he stared intently into his book, his shape dimly lit by the fireplace which seemed to glow, even though it was only a painting. The other was of a seemingly younger man in a darker cloak, only this one was not in such an easy posture. He was standing up straight, and it seemed he stared directly at me. He was not leaning, and his look was of malice. He had a hold of something that looked like a stick, but you could not see the rest of it, as it made its way out of the painting.
The old, wooden, dark brown floorboards creaked eerily under my feet as I made my way through the abandoned, decrepit house. The walls were an odd greenish color, but halfway down they turned into the same wooden boards as the ground, but they tipped on with an odd design. It seemed to be of a raven, the pattern repeated throughout the house. The floorboards were not of an incredible stature; most of them had knots from where the wood had bunched up, or place where the wood had rotted. The house smelled stale, like it hadn’t been visited in several years, and it looked that way too.
The house slowly started to change while I was going through it. Little by little, the men in the pictures relaxed, the design started to fade, and the floorboards changed to a less- rustic hue. I started to see rooms as well. I passed through the doorways connected to the hall. This new room seemed to be a dining room. A clock latched onto the wall. Tick – tock – tick – tock, it sounded. One hand was on the 5, the larger was one the 2. An antique table sat in the middle of the room, it was surrounded by chairs, all with the mark of a raven on it. It was the exact same as the ones I had been seeing in the hallway. Its beak was slightly open and its head was straight up, as if it were staring into space. One wing was wide spread, while the other hung naturally to its side. You could make out the intricate design of the feathers, and it had one yellow eye. It almost looked like it was alive, it stared directly at me. Its eye seemed to penetrate me, to see even deeper than the outside. I progressed out of the room at a quicker pace, to avoid its gaze.

I made my way out of the estranged room, and straight into another one. I could hear a screech of a bird in the distance and I froze. My senses gave way to the fear that arose in me. My eyes searched the dark room as I crept steadily out. My breathing was sharp; I could hear it over the creaking of the floor. I heard the screech again, but this time it was fainter, sounding hollow. It didn’t have the same fear it held the first time, but still I froze in place once more, hoping that it was not coming for me. As my eyes searched the crevices of the dark room, there was only one thing I could make out, a faint red light, coming from the corner. I took slow steps as I backed out of the room; hopefully the thing I had heard was not coming for me anymore.
The next room was a little different. Maybe it was just because I could make out the features of some of the things I saw. A large window was on the side of the room, and a faint glimmer of moonlight seeped through. I looked outside and saw that the clouds had cleared. As I took a step back further into the room, I saw a black shadow speed across the sky. I was obvious that this was the living room. A few couches were the same green color as the walls were. There were several rips in one of them; the fluff from the inside poked just the tiniest bit out. The arm rests had an intricate design to them. The swirling pattern changed into a red gem in the very center. It was the exact shade of the faint red glow I had seen in the dark room. I stared at in with fear in my heart, my common sense screaming at me to stay away. But I couldn’t resist, I had to touch the beautiful red gem in the center, it almost seemed to be calling me. I reached for it and an intense pain hit my finger as I put my finger too close, and I jumped away. I slipped out of the room quickly, trying to resist the urge to stare at the strange jewel that had caught my eye.
This time I was at the stairwell. I started slowly down them. The stairs were in a spiral, with the walls closed in. I couldn’t see where I was going, only that I was going down. The hand rail was dusty as I slid my hand down it to keep my balance. I stopped for a moment to catch my balance as I slipped on one of the stairs. But I could hear footsteps that weren’t my own. The creaked ever so slightly down the stairs, in a fluid sound, never slowing or missing a beat. I started running, but I could hear the other footsteps speed up as well. They had now overcome the sound of my own. Adrenaline fused into my feet but I couldn’t outpace this new thing. It was constantly speeding up, now sounding almost like a drum beat. As its sound increased, so did the rate of my heartbeats. I was now breathing heavily, almost throwing myself down the stairs. Never turn around, I thought, but I couldn’t resist, my curiosity overcame my feelings and I turned my head to the lightly detailed man.
In the glimpse I had gotten of him out of the corner of my eye, there was one thing that stood out. The red gems he had for eyes. My heart ran so fast that I thought it might stop from being over worked. It was the same man as the one in the picture! I was frantic now; this one had the same exact posture as the man in the picture. His face I couldn’t see under his long, black hood. He carried the same stick as before, but this time I could make out what it was. The rest of the stick ran into a long, shiny silver blade. It was a sickle, only this one was too fine to be for what I had hoped it was for.
Sweat ran down my face as I neared the end of the stairwell. The light filtered into the dark crevice of the stairwell. I hit the bottom stair, finally, but the figure was still the same distance he had been before, just a few yards behind me, making sure to keep his steady pace with me. This room was completely open, there was only one more way, and that was out. The room was bright compared to the rest of the house, and extremely large. The long window ran along the beautiful door frame. This room was considerably colder than the first, and in the center was a raven.
I froze in place. The mystic bird stared at me with its yellow eyes. It screeched a terrible high pitched sound that hurt my ears. Its pose was majestic as it stood with both feet on the perch. Its black beak closed and the noise stopped. It was completely silent, nothing moved, nothing made a noise. It was like this for a very long time before the bird, after getting its fill of me, whistled out of the room. The flap of its wings instilled the same fear in me as before, only this time it was even harder to resist breaking down.
Feeling seeped back into my limbs after a long time had passed. I took slow, delicate steps out of the room, making sure not to make even the slightest noise. I now stood only inches from the door, but something seemed to be holding me to the house. I stared at the handle until I finally made the decision to turn the knob. The handle was cold as ice to my already frozen hands. I turned it slowly, and I could hear the ice click off the latch. I pushed the door open with much effort, only moving it very slowly. My steps made the icicles loosen and fall all around me as I stared into the horror that now overtook me. Right off the porch the raven was on a new perch. It sat on the left shoulder of an elegantly white cloaked man, still staring at me with the same curios look.
His white cloak draped the snow with its beauty. The design was amazing. Cyan blue lines decorated the edges of his cloak, the beautiful color seeping along his hood in an incredible pattern, weaving in and out. It was the same old man as the picture. His beautiful pale face enhanced the beauty of his cloak even further. He also had a scythe, something that had not been shown in the picture. The blade had the pattern of the cloaks, although by the stick it a crescent shaped symbol. He leaned on the end of the, almost like it were a cane to him. His pasture was not like most old men’s though, he was not hunched and it didn’t look like anything hindered him. I looked back at the man, his powder colored beard hung just the slightest bit out of his hood. I had completely forgotten about the black raven sitting on his shoulder as the man entranced me.
It let out a shrill shriek to make sure I remembered it was there. I noticed that the color of the man’s eyes were the same color as the raven’s. The man reached up to the bird to comfort it, tracing his hand through the bird’s mystical feathers. His lips parted and whispered something to sooth it, and then he returned his gaze to me. “Change…” He whispered in an astonished voice, as he realized something he had not noticed before. His voice sounded like a thousand harps, all playing in a perfect harmony.
“May never happen…” The black cloaked figure said back. It was now only a few feet away from me, his eyes careful and yet still menacing. Its voice, in contrast, was a horrible cracking sound to me. I wanted to close my ears off from it; it stung me and froze me still with fear. The man’s fluent motions now became unsteady as he crept slowly towards me, his eyes no longer caught in mine. He was looking directly at the other’s perfect, yellow eyes.
Yet, the white cloaked figure stayed calm and watched for my reaction. He seemed to be longing for me to come for him. He shifted just slightly, now standing straight. His eyes didn’t even pay attention to the ghastly shape coming for me anymore. He reached out his hand…