06-25-2022, 08:33 PM
For good measure, just before he opened the bedroom door, Malachi leaned in closer to kiss him one last time. Then, reluctant as he was to do so, he opened the door and released Arthur’s hand.
Evening light cast a warm, golden glow through the tall windows, throwing shadows long across the floor. Malachi had always thought the house felt suspended in time, stuck in the hour before darkness. Too early, too late, caught in-between in a moment that felt as wrong and out of place as Malachi always had.
He led Arthur through the winding corridors and back to the front doors. Outside, then, into the warm evening sun. Dark clouds loomed in the distance, rolling in too slowly to catch them yet.
Getting to the back of the house was a more complicated task than it should have been. There were no doors that let out to the back, and instead one had to wander through the increasingly narrow garden paths to get there. The air gradually grew cooler as Malachi led them through, shielded from sunlight by the house.
The halls inside might have been reminiscent of a maze – this was one. But it was a path Malachi knew well, and it was not long before they arrived at a wider clearing at the back of the house. A little pond sat in the center, with multicolored rocks all around it and fish swimming happily beneath the surface. Malachi ignored it in favor of pulling Arthur closer to the house itself.
Tucked away in a variety of overgrown plant life, there were two small cellar doors, painted over and peeling with age.
“…As you can see, I haven’t visited in a while,” Malachi noted, already bending down to open the lock that looked older than the man himself. Once it was off, he threw the tiny doors open with a puff of dust.
“Ah. Shit,” he cursed, peering down into the darkness. The air below was colder still. “Hold on, love. I’ll get the ladder for you.”
Without further warning, Malachi pushed himself and fell into the dark. A shuffling sound, a scrape of old wood against the floor, and then the top of a ladder met the edge of the narrow entrance into the ground.
Evening light cast a warm, golden glow through the tall windows, throwing shadows long across the floor. Malachi had always thought the house felt suspended in time, stuck in the hour before darkness. Too early, too late, caught in-between in a moment that felt as wrong and out of place as Malachi always had.
He led Arthur through the winding corridors and back to the front doors. Outside, then, into the warm evening sun. Dark clouds loomed in the distance, rolling in too slowly to catch them yet.
Getting to the back of the house was a more complicated task than it should have been. There were no doors that let out to the back, and instead one had to wander through the increasingly narrow garden paths to get there. The air gradually grew cooler as Malachi led them through, shielded from sunlight by the house.
The halls inside might have been reminiscent of a maze – this was one. But it was a path Malachi knew well, and it was not long before they arrived at a wider clearing at the back of the house. A little pond sat in the center, with multicolored rocks all around it and fish swimming happily beneath the surface. Malachi ignored it in favor of pulling Arthur closer to the house itself.
Tucked away in a variety of overgrown plant life, there were two small cellar doors, painted over and peeling with age.
“…As you can see, I haven’t visited in a while,” Malachi noted, already bending down to open the lock that looked older than the man himself. Once it was off, he threw the tiny doors open with a puff of dust.
“Ah. Shit,” he cursed, peering down into the darkness. The air below was colder still. “Hold on, love. I’ll get the ladder for you.”
Without further warning, Malachi pushed himself and fell into the dark. A shuffling sound, a scrape of old wood against the floor, and then the top of a ladder met the edge of the narrow entrance into the ground.
