When at last, the manservant left me in my drab quarters, I sat on the one chair in the cabin and thought long. There was something peculiarly amiss about this place. It was more than the leaden skies overhead through which I was convinced the sun never shone on the estate my master wished me to purchase on his behalf. It was more than the odd men who had greeted me upon my arrival; they were never openly rude, but they seemed intent on ignoring all my questions about the estate until the morning when the caretaker would take me up on a tour of the estate.
The under-stuffed chair cushion was uncomfortable, and the back was made only of hardwood. I could only sit upon it for a few minutes before my natural inclination to shift and move about kicked in.
I studied the woods across the dull gray lawn. The branches were twisted. There wasn’t a normal-looking one in the bunch.
But there was something else. Something that had been waiting for my attention since I stepped out of the carriage not one hour past.
What is it?
This is a place of nightmares.
That was true, but there was something else I was missing. I sat very still and resolved myself not to rise again until I’d put my finger on what was off about this place.
Sitting upon the supremely uncomfortable chair, I shut my eyes and concentrated.
What is wrong?
There was something just below my consciousness that was clamoring for my attention. Some inner voice shouting at me to call for the manservant or caretaker and have them recall my carriage to take me away from this dreadful place at once.
I could hear my heartbeat in my chest. I thought again of Nora and blinked back the tears. My blood coursing through my veins echoed through my body.
I opened my eyes.
It’s quiet here.
But that’s hardly uncommon. Many such places in the country are quiet.
It’s too quiet here.
I stepped to the door of the cabin and opened it wide. I had expected a screech from a hinge, but even the door’s opening was without noise as though it wouldn’t dream of disturbing the unbroken silence without this cursed place.
I’ve gone mad.
I thought to try something and glanced around before whispering, “Hello.”
My voice was the only thing I heard. Other than my words, this entire place sat in a bowl of silence.
Nature can be quiet, but it’s never this quiet. There are always creatures about making some small noise or another. Birds tweeting, squirrels chittering, wilder animals snorting and rutting in the distance. There were always tree branches creaking in the wind. But there was none of that here.
Most people flee to the country for its curative properties, but too long in this place would surely have the opposite effect.
If I stay here one minute longer than necessary, I will go quite mad.
This feeling was such a gloomy and inescapable truth that I tried busying myself with some diversion to distract myself.
Why didn’t I bring a book?
The only reading material I had with me was the rather anemic flyer for the estate’s purchase. I studied it one more time, but it was useless to me as a way to distract myself, as I had memorized it from all the readings and rereadings during my trip here.
I shut my eyes and could still see the flyer. My mind wouldn’t render the letters solidly. They floated and gyrated and refused to behave like regular letters, numbers, and symbols. They shifted and oozed until I realized this was just one more avenue to insanity.
I lie down on the bed.
Of all the beds I’ve ever slept, it was by far the least comfortable one I’ve ever laid upon.
I resigned myself to it and thought again about how wonderful it is to have a job at all in these times. I hummed to myself as though I were a child of seven and not a man of thirty and seven years.
Outside, the silence continued unabated. No owls marked the progression from day into evening. No whippoorwills offered their birdsong to the stars hiding behind the gray clouds. Nothing moved, nothing spoke, nothing dared break the sound of silence. I grew irritated with everything and shut my eyes, so I didn’t have to see the already dark world outside my window grow darker.
Stories by Shawn 