I did promise to start posting the short story I am writing ... but of course, so many things get in the way. Here is the first chapter, or at least what we will call a chapter for now. I am breaking it into approximately thousand word chunks so it's not too long to read. It was meant to be a short story, but I feel I could write much more–perhaps I will :)
Further chapters will be posted according to my time and inclination !
The darkness surrounded me, enveloped me, I felt strangely warm, as if a quilt had been wrapped around me.
Through half open eyes, I could see whiteness in all directions. Snowflakes fell in my hair and eyelashes, the coldness of each one stung as it landed on my face. I felt myself lifting, could feel hot breath on my neck, strong hands around my chest and abdomen and very definitely warmth; and then darkness again, and then nothing.
I woke on hard rock, hungry, thirsty, and cold. And then I saw him in the dim, grey light. Unkempt and grubby, he sat cross-legged on a pile of rubble picking at his nails.
He ignored me in total silence, so I said “hello”.
He carried on picking at his finger nails, which were more like dirty claws.
“How did I get here?” I asked.
Still no response. But he swirled something around in his mouth and spat out a small bone - licked clean, devoid of meat. My stomach rumbled, I hadn't eaten since dinner two nights ago. Maybe he heard them too, or saw me licking my dry lips, because he turned his head to look at me as he said, “there is water in the well.”
When he said nothing further, I stood and set off to look for the well.
The well was outside, in a courtyard of a crumbling castle in the middle of a black and white wilderness - the bucket was small enough to tip to my mouth and the water tasted clean and fresh.
I felt him staring and turned. He sat in the decaying surround of what used to be a window. As I shivered and watched he jumped down with the grace of a big cat.
“Follow me,” he murmured as he brushed past me.
I followed. We walked around the corner of the building and entered a low doorway. At the end of a long, roughly paved corridor he stopped.
“There are some clothes in there” he said as he pointed to an old chest in a small room.
I found a heavy hooded cape and some lace up boots that fit. No gloves, but I could keep my hands inside the cape unless I needed to expose them to the cold air. I hoped he would offer food next, but he had disappeared. Returning to the room in which I had first awoke; I smelt the roast lamb before I saw him. He had bread and potatoes as well, and he silently handed me a cloth bag. He dug into his with his hands, but I was happy to see a fork in the bag for me. I had a million questions that I wanted to ask him.
“Why have you brought me here?” was the first one that quite involuntarily came out of my mouth. And interestingly, it was at that time that I realized without any doubt that he had done so.
“Why did you call me?” he answered.
“I didn’t, I don't know you, I don't even know your name, I can't explain anything that has happened since Father Andrew found me in the chapel.” I blurted out in a rush.
The only response I got was a raised eyebrow; he finished eating his food, and looked at me expectantly.
“I don't know where to start”
“At the end of course” he said without the slightest hint of sarcasm.
“Did I die in the snow? I know that is what was meant to happen. But I didn't make the diagram on the floor! I didn't! I have never seen anything like it before.” Memories of being dragged to the vestry and locked in, with no explanation, nothing at all, just left there in fear and disbelief, still rankled and hurt. I fought to keep back tears.
“You are not dead”
“Then where am I, who are you, what am I doing here?”
“Tell me about the diagram” he said, somehow his words had a soothing effect.
“I remember Father Andrew shaking me awake. I was on the chapel floor; I don't remember how I got there. I think I still had chalk in my hand.”
“Go on”
“There was a circle, and pictures of things inside the circle. There were triangles too, and some sort of lettering. I think Father Andrew recognized it, he looked angry and sort of scared and he was rough with me when he pushed me into the vestry and locked the door.”
He stood - and motioned me to follow him.
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