A Pleasant Village Called Selk

Chapter 1

Encounter with a Local Resident

'How can we truly know what reality is, when we are easily led astray by not only others but ourselves, to believe that something is real when it is not, just for the simple reason of convenience?'

Rain pelted down relentlessly, its onslaught not at all unwelcome to the average looking accountant. She greedily embraced the chill the whipping wind graced her with, ever so grateful for the respite, much like a silent prayer coming to fruition. She hugged her waist like a lifeline, in a futile attempt to regain some semblance of warmth she once had. 

'Bloody bus...' she groaned in irritation, her black cotton knee-length coat absorbing the precipitation. She felt a cold shiver run down her spine, much like when someone dances on another's grave. The place at which the woman (who was rather average, having average brown hair and equally average brown eyes) lived was a small village named Selk in a rather secluded part of North Yorkshire. Its population mainly consisted of the retired elderly, most of whom wished that life would return to the familiarly simple life of no infernal internet, and certainly no trouble-making millennials who, according to them, deserved a good-old spanking. Moreover, they wanted and needed to get rid of both them and their obsession with avocados. People mostly kept to themselves in this quiet village, unless it included rather scandalous gossip. It was a small village, after all: a place where everyone knew everyone, and thought it their human right to know of everyone's business, but not get involved in it.

It was a rather drab, dark day:  black clouds enveloped the sky, and the world (or at least the little village) was cloaked in a foreboding shadow, devouring the light of day maliciously and without remorse, looming over every resident like Azrael . It was often that it rained there, but what was rather peculiar was the fact that the street lamps were gradually fading, unnoticeably so. Not even the middle-aged brunette noticed the odd flicker of the lights, or even the slow dimming of them. Alas, all that held her attention was the deceptively soothing drops of rain as they formed puddles. She really wanted to just go home, have her microwave dinner (as she could not even turn on the cooker without the risk of burning the house down, she was that terrible at cooking) and watch some clichéd romantic comedy that would make her more likely grimace than smile, and perhaps feel rather melancholic and lonely, as she had never, and to her, probably would never have such a beautifully cheesy relationship such as those in fiction.

Trepidation seized her suddenly, almost making her gasp from its sheer intensity. The hairs at the back of her neck raised to attention, almost as though someone, or something, was behind her- wait, something? She believed herself to be truly delusional if she thought that it was a thing rather than a person. Indeed, rather having someone behind her made much more logical sense to the woman, despite the gut-wrenching feeling in her stomach that made her instinctively feel otherwise. But that couldn't be the case. Could it? She would have seen someone approach if there was an actual presence there, due to the layout of the road and the positioning of the bus stop. Her beating heart increased in speed, and her breath that was showing condensation from the chill in the air became slightly more erratic. Never before had she felt that particular way, the immense fear encompassing her like an unwelcome stranger in someone's personal space. 

Her skin crawled, her bones becoming more stiff. Be it from the cold or the sheer presence she felt the woman could not decide, nor was she brave enough to dwell on the latter. It was something peculiar, something surreal, something so irrational that she surmised that the monotony of her office work may have finally made her batty, or at least on the way to being so. Shivering, she shook her head in attempts to rid herself of the strange occurrence. This only seemed to increase, however, much to her discomfort and displeasure. She desperately wanted to look at whoever may be behind her, but her instincts told her that it would not necessarily be the wisest thing to do. Whoever was behind her, was certainly not to be trifled with.