V.I.T.R.I.O.L. Part Four
V.I.T.R.I.O.L
Part 4/7
The cabin door groaned as I pressed my wet fingers against its wooden frame. I wasn’t elated to learn what lurked within. I wasn’t pleased to spend a night alone in the woods. I was, however, missing my eerie abode on the tippy top floor. Irony. Crappy cabin irony.
As I peered within the dark room I realized my instincts of dread were correct. Just across the threshold… lay a pile of bright yellow shoe laces. The very shoe laces which were meant to guide me home, now sat neatly stacked on the dirt floor.
My mind raced as to who, or what, had gone through the trouble of bringing them here?
Once again, I found myself standing outside of a doorway. I swore I could feel the handle of my art portfolio in the palm of my hand. I felt my heart pounding in my chest. Every moment I hesitated the sky grew darker and I trembled as the temperatures dropped.
I stood frozen in the entryway.
That is, until a choice was made for me.
Out from the blackness a wrinkled, old hand jutted out and seized my wrist, pulling me inside. I fell to the floor. I wanted to scream. But before I could, my eyes locked with my captor’s. I felt my throat closing in on itself under her stare. I could barely make out her features in the darkness. All I could see were long wisps of silver hair, and emerald eyes with little crescent moons gleaming within pupils. Unable to scream or fight I could only lay docile on the cabin floor.
The figure struck a match to light an old, white candle. She placed it on the floor beside me.
“You look just like your mother,” she whispered gently, followed by an airy laugh.
With her laughter I felt myself relax. My terror had been replaced by a stronger affection, curiosity. It took terror to comprehend that in my dull existence, I’d never experienced intrigue before. But now in a mere day’s time I had discovered hidden keys, wandered through unknown woods, and encountered a crone in a cabin. And she knew my mother. How did she know my mother?
I wasn’t frightened anymore. I was possessed by machination, and I found her spirit to be absolutely delectable. I wanted to know all the crone’s secrets. I wanted to feel the bone chilling, thrilling terror that comes with getting answers. She knew my mother. How did she know my mother?
“Shhhhhhhhh”, the old woman held her long, bony finger up to her thin lips.
She gave a crooked smile. With the same slender finger, she pointed across the candlelit room. Mounted on the wall, was a heavily gilded black mirror. Just like the one in my bedroom on the tippy top floor. Slowly, I stood up and ambled towards it. I traced my fingers along its intricate edges. Intuitively, I tapped my finger on the glass. One. Two. Three.
Suddenly, a scene appeared within its frame. I watched my aunt pace frantically as the local sheriff took notes. My heart dropped to my bowels, she must have been worried sick about my disappearance.
But then I saw her face… it was all curled up and contorted into something I had never seen before… I saw hatred in her complexion. How long had she hidden this face from me? And how well?
“This child is utterly stupid, just like their idiot mother!” wailed my Aunt to the sheriff. “I hoped they’d either stay away from here all together or waste away in this room. But now, they’re gone, what if the key is gone? Who knows what trouble that will bring.”
The sheriff lazily lifted his eyes from his notes to appease my ‘hysterical’ aunt.
“Her car is still here,” he muttered. “She couldn’t have gone far. Probably wandered off in the woods and got lost.”
I rolled my eyes at his accurate detective work.
“And what if she found it?” My aunt enquired coldly. “I am not some ridiculous woman asking you to fetch a cat from a tree. You know what’s at stake if she uses that key and finds that cabin. I wish there were some way I could remove that damn mirror, but it's stuck on that damn wall.”
The sheriff calmly placed his big hand onto my aunt’s tiny shoulder,
“If she uses ‘that’ key, and finds ‘that’ cabin… then I will do what needs to be done. Just like my father, and my father’s father.” he said flatly. “The legacy will endure.”
I watched the sheriff’s hand drop from my aunt’s shoulder and onto the grip of his pistol, sending a chill down my spine. The old woman peered over her shoulder and into my eyes. I could see ocean waves surrounding the crescent moons within them, and then a single tear rolled down her wrinkled cheek.
I had wanted answers, and I was getting them. I knew my aunt was a liar. I knew nothing was as it seems in this sleepy little town. But most importantly, I knew come day break the sherriff would come to this cabin. I knew he would find me with his pistol. I knew my car was nearly out of gas. I knew the only pump was next to the police station. And lastly, I knew the only way out of this town was by bridge. Yes I knew many things at this point, I just didn’t know how to escape them.
The old woman beckoned me to take a seat directly across from her, I complied.
“It’s time you learn the truth about Silver Falls…” she said. She swirled her finger over the dirt floor of the cabin. And just like the black mirror. A scene appeared… but this time I could see all of Silver Falls. I settled in for the crone’s story.
“A long time ago… Silver Falls was a town with no name. The people who settled this nameless place were once hopeful travelers. They yearned to escape their impoverished existence in the eastern cities. And so… they collected what meager means they had, they gathered their oxen and covered wagons, and they prepared for their journey west.
You see, my dear child, they had heard stories about the west. Tall tales of lush fields and hills filled with gold. Gold is such an optimistic metal, it shines as bright as the sun, everybody wants the pleasures of gold… until they learn the cost associated with obtaining its shine.
Your predecessors learned all about the cost of golden dreams. Along its gilded path many died of heat, cold, and hunger. Mothers buried their children at unmarked graves with no choice but to press onwards. They were made of stern stuff, they were familiar with the perils of such expeditions. But even the strongest constitutions were no match for the meanness of this very land… and they were not prepared to encounter the river.
It was the dead of winter when they first met its frigid countenance. Its waters ran so wide there was no way to cross it, and its length stretched so far there was no way around it. It was at this point the weary travelers gave up on golden ambitions and decided it was time to settle. They built houses instead of bridges. They stayed in this foggy purgatory, and over time, glint was replaced by gloom.
Their hearts darkened as did their disposition. Soon enough they discovered there was indeed something hidden in the craggy hillsides of this land. As they tore into its earth they discovered it glittered black, this was the place of lead nightmares… and they mined it.
But all was not lost. There were brief moments where hope returned to the people. During those times, they would smelt the lead ore and pull little bits of silver from the formerly black rocks. It was then the nameless town became known as Silver Falls.
But their black bile demeanor returned as soon as the new travelers arrived. Travelers with means and ambition, hearty folk who were prepared to cross the river. Sure, they bought food and drink at the little town as they resided on its outskirts. But when the spring arrived, they built a humble little bridge, they went south across the river, and west towards the gold. The people of Silver Falls dared not venture over the bridge, they remained here, and as they did their jealousy grew.
Stagnant people are a lot like standing water, their lack of movement causes their souls to putrefy with the stench of cowardice. Some of the most wicked deeds are perpetrated by cowards. This evil became evident the day the girl with the ebony hair and onyx eyes came to town.”
The air felt cold with the crone’s last words, it was then I heard a rustling just outside of the cabin door…
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