A Stormy Night: Stories to Read by Firelight

Invader

Carson pushed a small cart through the wide aisles of the Raven Florist. Baskets hung from the greenhouse rafters and spilled flowers down over the tables full of potted plants.

    Shrubs, small and large, sat in buckets alongside roses, hydrangeas and vibranums. Poppies and petunia’s filled the area with color, and as he walked deeper into the greenhouse, the humidity grew and Carson found himself surrounded by more tropical plants.

    Devils and Common Ivy hung in baskets and draped down into a sea of spider grass, sword ferns, bromeliads and other vascular plants. Orchids and Begonias were placed here and there, providing small pops of bright purple and red hues that stood out among the sea of green.

    As he grew further back, the room darkened and he was met with a dead end, a large brick wall and a single solid door with a brass knob.

    A sign hung on the center of the door:

KEEP OUT

   

    The door sported a heavy lock, which dangled off the opposing hinge, leaving the door slightly ajar and allowing a strong yellow glow to pour onto the concrete in front of Carson.

    He stopped his cart and looked around.

    “Hello?”

    There was no response.

    Pushing his cart to the right of the aisle, Carson approached the door cautiously.

    “Hello?”

    A scuffling sound emanated from behind the door, followed by the that of a terracotta pot shattering to the ground.

    Carson grabbed the knob hesitantly and pulled it open, revealing a corridor far wider than the aisles of the rest of the greenhouse. It was lit by what appeared to be gas lanterns that hung from the ceiling, spilling poor quality yellow light into the hall.

    Benches sat to the left and the right of the walkway, and were strewn about with gardening tools, soil, pots and dead plants.

    Curiously, the entire corridor was overrun by vines. The tendrils coated every wall of the tunnel, and sprawled out just past the door, staying mostly in the poorly lit hallway.

    The ground was wet, and water dripped from the ceiling and made small splashes in puddles beneath them.

    Carson stepped in and walked slowly, his eyes darting left and right for the source of the crash.

    “Is there anyone here?”

    Silence.

    Carson could see the hallway ended in a small room with a bench against the far wall. To the right of the bench, a small, dark passageway seemed to go deeper into the building that Carson thought possible.

Stood in front of the bench was a faint, elderley woman who seemed to be scooping dirt into small pots.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to call out to the woman she walked to the right and vanished into the corridor, out of Carson’s field of view.

Carson stopped short of stepping into the still lit room and waited for several moments, but the woman didn’t reappear.

He looked to the right, where the woman had disappeared, but saw nothing.

He glanced  left, and a few seconds later, he walked into the room.

CRASH!

Carson connected with the old woman.