The Caretaker - Part 3

I felt weightless. Surrounded by a chill air that grasps at me and holds me aloft in this void. I could see nothing, for though my eyes were wide open, I could perceive only the darkness around me. It was an immense blackness impossible to penetrate, and it had engulfed me. Whenever I attempted to move, my body did not respond. As still as a board, I was perpetually floating in this strange plane. I pondered briefly: I should be terrified, but I am not.

Then a disturbing change overtook this place. The air began to grow sharply cold and bite at my skin. I felt a dense weight upon my chest; upon my very heart. A frigid, clammy hand took hold of my heart and was slowly wringing the life out of me. I wanted to scream, but felt my mouth held firmly shut. My throat dried like I had not tasted water in days, and I began to convulse involuntarily. Then the darkness parted and my mind returned to the real world.

I stared upward at the ceiling of the bedroom, but still, I could not move. Still, I felt frozen as if submerged in ice-water. Still, my throat was dry as a desert. Still, my very heart was being throttled by some unseen force.

My body continued to convulse, and my movement must have alerted Evelyn, for I soon saw her bending over me and trying desperately to bring me back to my senses. My vision began to dim and become spotted in red. I felt as though I grew more and more distant by the second. I was panicking internally. Terror and confusion were ablaze within me, yet were being stifled in the slowly tightening grasp of this unseen assailant. I could barely see at all by this point. I heard nothing save for the dull beating of my own heart that seemed to echo in my head, and strangely enough, the sound of a steady breeze through fallen leaves.

Then all at once, it was gone.

I suddenly regained control of my body. My sight, and hearing, and motor skills, and breath returned to me. I became aware of Evelyn's face hovering over mine, contorted in an expression of alarmed worry. I became aware of the stream of tears that had rained down from the corners of my eyes to stain the pillow. More than anything though, I became aware of just how horridly, desperately, and madly terrified I was.

I think I heard her ask what happened; if I was alright. But I did not acknowledge her inquires. I sprang up and threw my arms around her, burying my face in her neck, heaving as though I had just run a marathon. I didn't cry. I wasn't sad. I was frightened to death. I had never experienced something like that in all my life. I have been beaten to a bloody pulp before. I've been nearly blown off of buildings by a strong wind. I've broken bones and even been held at gunpoint before. Despite all this, never have I experienced a fear like that before. Never have I felt so close so death before. I didn't care who it was. It would have been my pillow had I been alone. But I needed to hold onto something; someone.

She seemed to understand, the way I shook and the way I whined. I felt her arms gently take me in and hold me against her reassuringly. Frankly, it was more than enough. I'm not entirely sure how long we stayed like that, but eventually I felt my heart return to a normal rate and I stopped shivering. With a deep breath, I pulled away and sat up in the bundle of blankets I had rested in. It was only then that I realized it was no longer raining.

Evelyn looked at me in the dark. She actually met my eyes. "What happened? You looked as though you were having a heart attack." I was not sure how to answer her at first. I thought over what I had just experienced, attempting to sort through the event in a comprehensible way. I did my best to describe it to her, not entirely sure what to make of it myself.

"It certainly felt like I was having a heart attack, if I could guess what it would be like," I explained. "But it doesn't make sense if it was. The entire sensation felt otherworldly."
She seemed to ponder on what I said for some time, but eventually gave up. "I'm sorry, but I have no idea. Just be glad you're okay, I suppose."
"Yeah," I agreed monotonously. "I suppose."
"Well, it's almost daylight." She said after a moment of silence. "Now's as good a time to get up as any. I think the power's back on too."

So we stood and went through the process of changing into some fresh clothes, replacing Evelyn's bandages, and making our way to the kitchen. The power was indeed back on, but it didn't matter a whole lot once daylight began streaming in through the wide windows. I was in no mood or condition to try and make a decent breakfast, so I was thankful when Evelyn offered to do so while I settled on making a brew of tea to wake us up.

Many sausages, eggs, and slices of toast later, we found ourselves sitting silently at the dining room table, poking at what remained of our meal. What happened just barely an hour ago was still deeply impressed upon me. I would even go as far as to say it scarred me. I was honestly not sure how we were supposed to broach the subject, much less go about the day normally and just never address it. It didn't feel right to just pretend it never happened. It seemed she felt the same way, however, and was the first to speak up.

"About earlier," she began cautiously. "Has that ever happened to you before, or is this the first?"
"It's the first." I replied. "I've never been through something like that before. I've never had sleeping problems or health issues. Hell, I've never experienced sleep paralysis. That's what I thought it was at first. But it felt too real."

"Maybe you should reconsider being the caretaker for this house." Evelyn suggested. "I mean, it might just be the manor. You feel it too, right?" She uttered the last part as though she were confiding some kind of secret. But I understood what she referred to.

"Yeah," I confirmed quietly. "I felt it the moment I walked in here. Does it always feel so..."
"Unwelcome? Yes. Even when I was little, it felt off being in here; as though I was being watched." Just looking in her eyes was enough to convince me she meant it. At first I thought it was just my moving to a new environment, or living in a stranger's house, but now I know for sure: this manor just makes you feel like you don't belong. I suddenly felt more uncomfortable than ever. It was bad before, but now knowing that someone else other than I senses it put me even more on edge.

"Did my uncle ever talk about this manor with you?" I asked. "Whenever we got in touch, he only ever spoke about it like it was just an old house. He made it all seem so normal."

"No. Well, he did, but he only ever talked about it like that. I told him once about the feelings I got being in here, but assured me that it was nothing to be worried about. So eventually, I just got used to it." She stared down at her empty plate. "But witnessing what you just went through this morning...it's like I'm feeling it for the first time again."

It was silent once again. We had both picked our plates clean, so I stood to begin cleaning up. She got up to do the same, but I insisted she wait in the lounge and let me take care of it. Cleaning the dishes alone gave me time to think. It wasn't any coincidence, all of this. Clearly there's something wrong with this place. Evelyn felt it, I felt it; what just happened all but confirms it. I needed to get into contact with my uncle somehow. I needed to get some answers.

Drying my hands and meeting Evelyn in the lounge, I sat in my usual chair and faced her. "So, it's evident enough that my uncle hasn't told us everything about this manor." I began, retrieving my cell phone. "He said he was staying at the motel in town. Do you know if they have a phone?"

"Actually, yes." she chewed on her lip as she thought. "If I'm not mistaken, it's xxx-xxx-xxxx."
Dialing in the number, I was relieved to find that her memory proved correct.
"Hello, this is the Moth Maiden Motel. How can I help you?" an older woman's voice replied.
After recovering from that bludgeon of alliteration, I answered. "Yes, I'd like to get in contact with one of your residents. His name is Clyde Hurst."
There was a shuffling of pages, some kind of movement, and the clerk quietly muttering off names. Then she responded with the worst possible answer I could have gotten.
"I'm sorry, sir. But Mr. Hurst checked out early this morning."
I was silent for a moment. Evelyn might have guessed from the face I made what I had just heard.
"You there, hun?"
"Yes, erm. Did he by any chance mention where he was going?"
"Not at all. He just up and left before the sun was even up."

That was it. The man's gone. I know he doesn't carry a cell phone. Obviously that would have been my first option. There's something going on here and now the only person who might have some answers for me has disappeared. I hung up and just dropped the phone onto the table.

"God damned crazy old man is gone..." I muttered, slumping into my chair.
"Can't you call your employers? The owners of this manor? Maybe they'll be able to shed some light."
I remained silent and averted my gaze. I didn't want to have to tell her. I didn't want to have to explain just how reckless I was when I jumped onto this job.
Despite my attempts to avoid the question, she leaned forward and bore her gaze straight into me. "Nathan..." she uttered, almost accusatorially. I hid my face in my hands ashamedly. She clearly wasn't going to let up.
"I don't know them." I admitted.
"Excuse me?"
"I said I don't know who they are!" I reiterated. "When my uncle got me this job, he handled the entire arrangement. He just told me I would be living here and get a check every month for taking care of it. That's it. I never even met the owners."

I was embarrassed. I didn't want to look back at Evelyn. But I would eventually have to. Unveiling my face, I found that she was not disappointed, or irritated, or anything of the sort. In fact, her countenance was the picture of pure concern.

"Now why did you take on a job when you didn't even know who you'd be working for?" she asked. I sighed. I didn't really want to go into detail. So I told her what I've been reminding myself the entire time I've stayed here.
"I was desperate. I needed the job."

It seemed she didn't need any further explanation. I silently thanked her for not pressing the issue. "Well, then I suppose there's nothing that can be done about it for now. We'll just have to see what we can find out on our own."
"We?" I echoed, giving her a confused look, which she returned.
"You don't think I'm so cruel as to leave someone like you alone to handle a matter like this, do you?" She offered a sly grin. It was a look I don't recall ever seeing her make. Maybe this was her strange, roundabout way of trying to cheer me up. Honestly, it kind of worked; somehow.
"Someone like me? Now what exactly do you mean to imply by that?"
"I mean to imply you need somebody like me around to keep someone like you focused and, I don't know, not shooting the first thing that moves in the dark."
"Touché'," I replied, glancing away. Okay, maybe she wasn't trying to cheer me up. Maybe she's just teasing. Or maybe it's both. I'm finding it more difficult to read this girl. My confusion must have shown on my face because I suddenly heard her giggle softly to herself. It was a gentle and amiable sound, but only served to further baffle me.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just," she pauses, regaining herself. "Clyde may not have ever talked about me, but I've known about you for years now. The way he spoke about you, it just gave me a very different impression from how you really are."

Now I really want to know what my uncle's been saying about me. What's so funny about it though? I like to think I'm a pretty normal guy, sans the quivering toddler I can become when scared out of my wits. Is it my clothes? I'll admit I dress rather drab. "And just what impression might that be?" I inquired, intent on getting to the bottom of this.
"Well," she shrugged. "That you were some kind of thug."
Son of a bitch.

I leaned back and averted her eyes. "There was a time when that impression wouldn't be far off, but not anymore." I didn't have to look to tell that she once again bore a worrisome look. "Frankly, I'd prefer not to talk about it. But whatever my uncle's been telling you is likely extremely outdated information." I looked back at her, making sure she understand. With a sigh, she nodded. There was a moment of silence before she spoke again.

"Well, I may not be so sure of that." she began. I could swear I saw the makings of that same grin from earlier pulling at her lips. "He did tell me a lot of things."
"Yeah. Like what?" I scoffed, but I could not help but smile a little myself.
"He told me often how knuckle-headed you were. That you were a lazy oaf without any goals, but could get things done when you put forth the effort. He likened you to a workhorse; don't care much about what you're doing so long as you get compensated for it. He said you were growing to be a handsome young man and that while you aren't the most intelligent around, but have a good head on your shoulders." she paused, letting that grin of hers finally show itself. Her lips parted just slightly so that I could see her glimmering fang peek out. "I can say for certain that some parts of what he said are far from outdated." I resigned my frustration at my uncle. I just wasn't sure how to feel about everything he said. He always doted upon me as I grew up, so I can't stay angry at him.
"And what parts might that be?" I asked.
"What indeed?" she chuckled, turning her gaze to the empty fireplace. This girl is something else.

Just then, a loud knocking came from the front door, startling us both. Evelyn and I exchanged confused, curious looks before I stood to go answer. Opening the door, I saw a young harpy standing on the porch, holding a parcel. It took a moment for me to realize she was the mailman. Mailwoman-bird...person. Whatever.

"I have a letter for a, uh, Nathan Hurst? I was going to just use your mailbox, but..." she trailed off, glancing back at the rusted, keeled over thing in the front yard that used to be a mailbox.
"Yeah, that's me. Sorry about that." I replied, taking the letter.
"Nathan, huh? You're living here now?"
I just nodded.

"Well, I hope you like the place. I haven't seen you around, so I figured you were new. Have a nice day, sir!" she exclaimed before flying off. I just closed the door and began making my way back to the lounge. On the way, I took a look at the letter in curiosity, and the name I saw on it made me almost trip over my own feet.

I rushed into the lounge, presenting the letter to my arachne companion.

"Evelyn! It's from Clyde!"