The Jaws of Filmouth

3

Filmouth was a curious town. The view from the path was that of an old fishing village. The architecture told Thom that it had been built decades ago, with minimal upgrades ever since. Buildings made of brick or that raised higher than one storey were scarce; most of the dwellings Thom could see were wooden huts. If this was on the mainland, it was a very isolated town indeed. What Thom found most strange however, was located on the docks. Despite being built on the coast and possessing a large marina, only a single small fishing vessel was berthed at the docks of Filmouth. The sun was shrouded completely by a canopy of grey clouds which looked ready to throw their waters down, from which Thom could only deduce that it was day, and had no idea the time. Perhaps most of the ships were out at this hour.

As the pair grew closer to the town, Thom saw the full extent of the filth. The streets were pure mud, and houses and stores alike looked to be falling apart at the seams. Rudimentary repairs were present on the more dire pieces of architecture, but it seemed that the village had been in a state of disrepair for years. An eerie silence pervaded the town, and glancing around Thom was unsettled. Villagers of all kinds stood on doorsteps, verandahs, and store fronts, staring intently at the pair. More specifically, Thom noted, they were glaring at him.

The townsfolk were as strange as their home. Their clothes consisted of last century's fashion, and something about their features was bizarre to observe. They all kept a similar look about their face, an anticipation of something to come; a hunger. An infant cradled against a woman's chest was crying. The mother did little to comfort, rather she continued to stare at Thom uneasily.

They trudged through the bemired street towards a larger building near the end of the town. The two storey building which rose high above the rest had a tidier appearance, albeit not by much. Tall, slim windows littered the walls and wooden pillars held up the second floor. As they stepped onto the wooden landing, Thom was relieved to be on solid ground. He looked down at his boots which were caked in a layer of red mud leading up to his knees. He lifted one foot up slightly, and watched some of the mud slump to the floor.

'If you'd please,' said Halloway from beside him, nodding towards his boots. Noticing Thom's apprehension, he added, 'They'll be there when you leave, I promise.' Halloway drove a key into the lock.

Unlike the rest of the town, the interior was spotless. A long, verdant carpet with golden linings led up to a grand staircase which forked off to the left and right. The walls were bare mahogany, and paintings of all shapes and sizes adorned them. Candles and lanterns were spread around the room, providing a warm light.

A small, elderly woman entered from one of the rooms on the left and made Thom jump. The woman was permanently bent over at forty-five degrees, and wore a dark shawl over layers of various shades of brown. Her skin was pock-marked and greyed, and her white hair was ratty and unclean. Compared to the man in the green suit, she barely reached his waistline. She pointed a wizened, shaky finger at Thom.

'This the... the castaway, Mr Halloway?' She said, her voice deep and croaky.

'Yes,' replied Halloway. 'This is Thomas, and he is in need of bedding and food. Set up the old - you know the one.'

She nodded and said 'Right away, Mr Halloway,' in a manner that felt rehearsed. The woman then hobbled out the front doors, and Halloway closed them behind her. He stared at the doors for a while, his mind mulling over something. Right as Thom was about to clear his throat, Halloway turned on his heels and moved towards the staircase.

'I need to have a word with you in my study,' he said without looking back.

Thom found himself walking up the grand staircase behind Halloway as they entered a room on the left. Halloway moved to a corner of the room and struck a match, and brought it to a lantern. He repeated this routine thrice more, lighting the room fully. Once complete, Thom watched the man settle himself down neatly behind a large, dark wooden desk. He pulled out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleared his forehead of sweat, replaced it in his pocket and placed his hat gently on the desk.