Cabin Creek: A Dreamscape [Incomplete]

Chapter I

I

It was half-past-twelve, the night thrown amidst the deep. As the rain beat on, salt against the wind, a darkened room quivered from silence. A trembling window ached in the gale-force, battering on semi-rhythmically, like a tired old heart. It was a weary, old, worn-out room, once flourished amongst company, now long afore. The room, accustomed to its discrete benevolence, began to feel the fear of intrusion. A malevolent feeling of change—its impending doom—filled the room with ire.

A flash of white-light crept through the shuttering shutters, momentarily dissatisfying the room. As a lonesome shadow vexed amid a darkened doorway—haunting the bleak room—the white-light continued to flash in the foreground, and the ever-present shadow stood amid the doorway. The cracking sounds of thunder shook the foundation, whilst withstanding battering harsh squalls from the tropical depression. The rhythmic thumping continued.

A creak in the floorboards bellowed, as the shadow gleamed forward.

A light exceled precipitously—the anger grew.

A man, austerely gleaming upon the room, from within the doorframe, hesitantly entered.

The room, filled with cloth-covered furniture, sat in an eerie coat of dust and spider-webs.  A feature that was ever present, and well maintained.

The man, with lantern in hand, stumbled through the darkly lit cabin, nested amidst the abundantly forested woods. Surveying the room thoroughly, he moved from one area to another, and happened upon a lonely bathtub-basin. He lumbered over toward the basin, the flame rose over the damp-dank wall. The flame shimmered amidst a glistened pearly-white bathtub, as an aura filled the room with a deceptive sanguinity.

“What nerve” whispered nobody—the man turned his head, a pale-blank expression filled his face.

With apprehension, the man turned back on course; gently hunched over, he grasped for the tap retained solidly upon the damp-stricken wall.

“When will this deluge end?” he muttered melodramatically to himself, whilst drawing a hot bath. The room, one-by-one, became ever so luminescent in candle-lit opacity. 

As the steam enveloped the room—the forgotten, now appended with antagonism, consumed the steam; dwelt with WRATH, the forgotten deliberated its reprisal. Fear; anger; haste; the shadows removed all those whom purged upon their aura—now the hapless visitor’s impending doom.

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