Dead By Dusk

3. Field and Forest and Fog Silene

3

Field and Forest and Fog: Silene

T he first step onto the second landing gives way with a long, high-pitched creak that makes me wince. I pause to look around before walking any further, ensuring that nothing else was stirring up here besides us. Once I’m sure we’re alone, I take another step forward, nodding Carmen on.

It’s quiet.

Steady.

But I know it won’t stay that way. In the back of my mind, I know someone is here. Lurking, silent in their wait. But for what? I’ve asked myself so many questions since I’ve woken and have yet to find any answers.

I have nothing but a dagger and an impossible pain in my neck.

After a few steps down the hallway, I stop to scan my surroundings. The second floor is furnished similarly to the downstairs area where I spent the last twenty minutes. Dark hardwood floors, olive green painted walls. A small bookshelf holds a stack of books most would consider classics, volumes of poetry…beautiful works of literature. I can’t help but step closer and gently trace the spines.

“Much Ado About Nothing,” “Macbeth,” “The Cask of Amontillado,” “The Most Dangerous Game. They’re all gloriously dark books. My brow creases slightly. I can’t help but wonder why they all seem to be in perfect condition? Why would someone keep a collection so hauntingly beautiful and dark if not to devour and decipher them?

I don’t linger too long on this and tear my gaze away from the books. With a deep exhale, I turn only to be met with hazel eyes entirely too close to my face. Instinctively, I shoot my palm into the person’s throat before I blink and realize who it is.

His eyes go wide as he chokes, and I can’t help but mimic his facial expression in surprise.

“Dear Lord, Bobby boy, you can’t just sneak up on a woman like that! You’re going to get yourself killed! What the hell are you even doing!? You’re supposed to be downstairs with Nathaniel!”

He’s still gasping for air, doubled over and red-faced, his eyebrows drawn. He holds up a finger as he struggles to breathe. I quickly scan the area while he recovers, noticing that Carmen is nowhere in sight. I furrow my brows before my gaze lands on a door left slightly ajar—one that had been shut.

I find myself proud of Carmen for wandering off on her own. As long as I don’t hear anyone dying, she should be good on her own until I know why William has decided to leave the area downstairs and join us.

With that thought, I turn back to the large man in front of me. Thankfully, he seems to have mostly recovered, though occasionally his breathing still sounds strangled—his eyes still watery and face red.

“We found a couple more people downstairs. Ol’ Carrot Top told me to come up here, that his face might be a friendlier one to see first anyways. That it might be easier for them to take in the information if they have fewer eyes on them or some bullshit, I don’t know. I would’ve told him to fuck off if I’d known I was going to get throat punched. Jesus. Who the hell even are you?” he says, exasperation lacing his words. I just shrug it off.

“I’m Silene. I’m sure you know as well as I do that I don’t remember anything else. Just like everyone else here.”

He just hums in response but scans me carefully. His eyes catch on my arms.

“You know, one of the guys we found down there, he’s got some bruises on him too. Nothing too insane, but it’s odd, ya know?”

“Why is it odd?” I ask, wishing I weren’t so curious, but the need to know feels as important as the need to breathe.

“You’re both wearing similar clothes. No one else is dressed almost for…combat. Both of you have bruises on your arms, he has a split lip, you have a bruise by your hairline. They seem to be fresh too. Like whatever happened, happened right before we were brought here. It’s just odd.”

My hand drifts to my forehead, feeling along my hairline and wincing at the pain that follows. Focusing back on him and his little speech, I could somehow sense where his thoughts were taking him. Had I known him? Were we in the same place at the same time before being brought here?

“Did he say what his name was?” I ask, hoping it might jog my memory.

“No, he didn’t. He wasn’t awake yet.” And then he walks away from me and that was that, I suppose.

There was nothing else left to say, and so, when he opens a door on the left, I veer right to the door I know Carmen had already entered. I purposely make my steps heavier to alert her of my presence. Still, she doesn’t move from her spot near the lone window.

She’s so still, she might have been a statue if not for the sound of a shuddering exhale as I let the door creak open a little more and slowly approach. I take note of the empty room around us.

The walls are the same shade of green as the rest of the house, and the only window is draped with blackout curtains able to drown this room in darkness with one sweep if one wanted to, and I wonder if that was what she’s thinking about or—

“There’s nothing else,” she starts, her voice so quiet, it could have been a whisper but instead echoes around us in the drowning silence. “Someone brought us here. We don’t remember anything. There is nothing else here but field and forest and a fog so heavy that even if there were anything else we would have no way of knowing.”

It isn’t until I’m finally behind her and peeking over her shoulder that I understand. There’s nothing but green as far as the eye can see wrapped in a blanket of mist. The same sense of unease washes over me before I try to open up the window, but it doesn’t budge. Not even the slightest movement to indicate that it can be opened.

I shake my head, grasp her hand and head towards the door, back into the hallway.

“Anything in there?” I ask as William steps out of the room opposite of us.

He just shakes his head before saying, “Just an empty green room with a window leading nowhere.”

That’s absolutely no help, but we have nothing better to offer either. We all stare at each other for a beat before continuing down the hallway. Opening every door. Searching for something —anything, that might clue us in to what’s going on. But we don’t find a single thing that could possibly help.

That is, until we reach the two doors at the far end of the hallway. One is locked so tight, it might as well have been welded into the wall. The other door leads to a bathroom with one window.

A window that slides right up with the slightest pressure.

We should have felt relieved, but not a single one of us seems to appear as such. No, instead we stop at the halfway mark, and then push the window closed. Leaving it just as we’d found it.

An exit should have us all tripping over one another to climb through, but we’re all looking at it like it’s the plague. Like everything changes the second we climb through. Maybe it does. Maybe it will. Maybe we go through the window, jump off the roof and leave. Make our way through the forest, find a road and follow it into a town. But I think we all know that may not be the case.

I think we all know that it’s, unfortunately, the least probable thing that will happen.

So instead, we stare and try to figure out what happens next. Try to figure out if we investigate or go downstairs, find the others and decide on a plan together. It’s me who looks away first. Who steps away from the barely open window and walks back towards the stairs calling for Nathaniel until his lanky form and inquisitive eyes come into view.

“Is everything okay up there? Did you find anything?”

“Everything is fine, and we, uh…we found a way out,” I say. My doubt must show on my face because his own features are filled with skepticism.

“You’re sure it’s a way out?”

“I’m not sure of anything right now, honestly. But it’s the only window on this whole floor that will open. I don’t trust it, but we might have to.”

I know he knows I’m right. I can see it wash over his features, mingling with the doubt from before. But unless they found something on the first floor, we may not have a choice. I watch as he tilts his head towards the living room but keeps his eyes fixed on me, only glancing away when he has to. I don’t hear anything, but it may be because the newly-awakened people are still getting their bearings.

He looks back at me and gives me a slight dip of his chin before saying, “Okay, yeah. Someone go out there and investigate. Not everyone though. Just one of you until you know it’s safe. Then let someone else know so they can relay the message. I’m still trying to explain what I can to one of the other two down here. The other one hasn’t woken up yet.”

I just give him a tight smile and nod before walking back to the bathroom to let Carmen and William know, deciding to offer myself up. Concealed or not, I am the only one with any sort of weapon, and it gives me a better chance of defending myself if I need to fight. Something tells me we will have to fight. We are here for a reason, and whatever reason that is, was enough for someone to make us forget.

No memories. No weapons. One way out.

We were not meant to survive whatever waits for us, merely given the illusion.

The taste of a possible freedom.

My steps are cautious, easy and calculated. We have scoured every square inch of this floor with the exception of what lies behind the impossible door, and I still don’t feel safe. I refuse to let my guard down even though I know the only other people up here won’t hurt me.

You don’t know that, says a small voice in the back of my mind, and I stop for a second to fully come to terms with the fact that my subconscious is right. I believe it, even though I don’t want to. I don’t know them, not really. Just their names, if those are even true. Maybe I should remind myself of that a little more. I don’t have to be rude, but I don’t have to act like their friend either.

I try to listen for whispers between them as I get closer to the bathroom, but instead am met with complete silence. I take one heavy step to make myself known to them and open the door to find them facing each other from opposite walls. Carmen, slightly crouched, leans against the left wall while staring at her tightly clasped hands sitting in her lap. William is sitting on the sink countertop to my right, back against the mirror, his legs swinging around like he’s bored with the entire situation.

“Nathaniel said one of us should go down, and I agree. One person checks out the immediate surroundings, makes sure everything is okay, and tells the other two up here. Then, a second person can head out while the third lets the others know. It makes sense,” I say. They both share a look before turning towards me and nodding.

“I think it should be me.” I say with a sense of finality and confidence. I hope they’ll agree with me, but William just huffs a laugh before looking at me like I’m a child telling their parents I have super powers because I dreamt I could fly. I can’t do anything but cross my arms over my chest defensively and shoot him a glare that—I’m hoping—screams, “elaborate before I stop telling myself that killing you wouldn’t solve any of my current problems.”

He smiles arrogantly and shakes his head. “For the sake of not coming off as an asshole, I just think that if there’s anything dangerous out there, the odds of me being able to fight it off might be better than your odds. What’re you going to do if someone my size comes at you? I don’t think begging for your life would help much, considering our situation.”

“This is you trying not to be an asshole?” I scoff incredulously, looking to Carmen for support, but she just gives me a sheepish look and resumes staring at her hands.

“Maybe just let him go down there? He’s an asshole, yes, but he is much larger than you. Maybe he would have a better chance if something happens?”

For the sake of my pride, I roll my eyes and gesture toward the window in surrender. He looks like he can hold his own for sure, so there’s no need for my ego to take another hit from Bobby boy over here. Even if he seems to have already forgotten the throat punch from earlier. I should remind him, but that would be rude of me…very very rude of me. And not necessary at all.

“I didn’t realize begging for my life is what stole your ability to breathe earlier.”

He goes slack jawed for only a moment before closing his mouth and grinding his teeth together. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply.

“Glad to see you’re doing better,” I say with a mock smile.

He exhales sharply, but he can’t seem to cool himself entirely as his face reddens and fists clench.

Not necessary, but definitely fun. You have to keep men humbled. He seems to have forgotten that all those muscles didn’t protect him when I had him doubled over in pain not too long ago.

He jerks the window up all the way and begins climbing through. Once he’s found steady footing on the roof, he ducks down to look at us before saying, “I’ll call up here and let you know what I see when I get down there. Don’t leave.” Straightening, he turns his back to us and starts taking measured steps down the slight decline of the roof. I count three steps before he loses his footing and slips.

He lands on his shoulder with a loud thud and grunt before his body starts rolling of its own accord, sending him down down down, and just when I think he’s given up and will allow momentum to carry him the entire way down and just brace for the impact of the ground, I hear it.

I hear gears turning, the sound of a lock clicking. A second later, large metal spikes shoot out from the entire perimeter of the roof, sprouting up from the eaves. The spikes impale three different points of his body, and it’s all I can do to not think about how his little nickname is more accurate than ever.

Bobby got kebabbed.

I almost laugh at the thought, even though it’s possibly the worst time ever to laugh, and realize just how desensitized to death I must be in my day to day life. Then, an ear piercing scream rings out from behind me. I flinch away as I turn to see a horrified Carmen shaking like a leaf, her eyes locked on the scene in front of us.

Dismissing the stupid joke my brain conjured up, I turn to fully face her and shepherd her against the wall. Guiding her to a sitting position, I try to gently calm her down while concealing his body from her view. Once she’s fully seated, I grab her face and force her to look at me. Slowly, she focuses on my soothing words instead, and it works. Instead of screaming, she is now taking large gasping breaths as if she had been drowning and finally resurfaced.

Or if they just watched someone be killed in a truly barbaric way.

“Just keep taking de—”

“Is everything okay? What’s going on up there!?” I hear yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

I sigh and look at Carmen telling her,“Just close your eyes and keep focusing on your breathing. I’ll go and give a quick update. She just shakily nods and places her head in between her knees, not moving from her spot on the ground.

I take that as my cue to get up and jog over to the stairs before anyone else heads up here and freaks out the same way she just did. When I make it down, I see a frantic Nathaniel cautiously beginning his trek up the steps, relief crossing his features when he sees me.

“What the hell was that? Who was screaming? What happened?” he asks, eyes still worried and face flushed. I see a slight tremble in his hand as he drops it from the railing, and I recognize it for what it is.

Fear.

Probably not for me or Carmen, but for the unknown, most likely. Which is fair, even if also unreasonable, considering that everything happening to us is just that: unknown.

“William is dead,” I say rather bluntly. There’s no reason to beat around the bush anyway. None of us have known each other more than an hour at this point, so my sympathies are rather limited for the man whose last few words toward me were demeaning. Maybe Nathaniel shares the same feelings, because he just looks at me for elaboration rather than looking like someone died.

“Okay, what happened? You don’t seem afraid or panicked, so I assume it was an accident of sorts?”

“Of sorts,” I say vaguely while looking a little sheepish and add, “How familiar are you with Turkish street food?”

A raised eyebrow is all I get in return. That’s all I get, and I don’t even think that I care because I have to fight the smallest of smiles before adding one small sentiment. “How do you feel about kebabs?”

He doesn’t laugh. He instead looks slightly horrified, questions dancing behind his eyes revealing all his thoughts at once, and honestly, I don’t care if he’s terrified. He can be terrified because I’m a little upset. I didn’t realize I was dealing with such a tough crowd, yet here I am.

“He slipped going down the roof. There was a trap that sprung up and killed him. It’s a mess. Carmen screamed when it happened but I got her to calm down a bit. It happened at the roof’s edge, so I’m going to take the same path he did, walk in between the gaps, and jump down to check the surroundings. I’ll call up to Carmen with the ‘all clear’ or the ‘no go’ order from there. Are the others up and moving yet?”

He looks at me like I’ve grown five heads and suggested we just live in the house the rest of our days and resort to cannibalism or manifesting that we’re plants and surviving on photosynthesis. He looks at me like I’m crazy . That’s the second time a man has looked at me like my idea was outrageous in less than that many hours, and I’m starting to take it a little personally. But just as soon as I decide to comment on it, he neutralizes his facial expression and just runs his hand over his face before rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah, they’re up and moving. We haven’t found any other way out yet, no paperwork, no weapons, nothing useful, really. No more people though, and that’s a win in my books. Six is more than e—”

“Five. There’s five of us now.” The abrupt interruption stopped him for only a moment. His cautious gaze roving over my form once again before continuing.

“Right, yeah. Five is more than enough kidnapped and clueless people. I explained everything to them, we’re still searching, but once we’re done, we’ll head up there. We may have no choice but to go through that window.”

I just nod my head and quickly look behind me before returning my attention to him. Tapping my fingers against the banister, I wonder what he’d make of the sealed door, and when I decide that it doesn’t matter and try to continue my way back to a shaken and skittish woman, Nathaniel clears his throat expectantly. Releasing a small exhale, I call over a shoulder, “There’s a door up here that won’t open. I don’t know what to make of it but it feels important. Just in case one of you wants to take a crack at it when you get upstairs.” I continue my path to the bathroom after I finish speaking, not bothering to wait around for any further questions. Instead, I’m bracing myself to try and explain to Carmen that I have to go outside to figure everything out.

As soon as I walk back into the bathroom, I see she’s right where I left her. Head tucked between her legs and arms loosely dangling over her knees, she’s doing her best to regulate her breathing and ease her anxiety.

I try not to startle her as I approach and bring my boots toe to toe with her converse, and she looks up at me with big light brown eyes, slightly glossed over from her tears that she had shed presumably from the aftershock of the adrenaline. I crouch down to her level, my knees almost touching hers and give a tight lipped smile which she returns with a wobbly one.

“I have to go out there,” I say calmly. Firmly. Confidently. I say it in every way I know I need to so I don’t freak her out, and for the first time, someone doesn’t look at me like I belong in an insane asylum, though she does look slightly unhappy and extremely unenthused by the idea of me doing what I’m suggesting. Honestly, that’s fair.

“Someone has to go. The spikes appeared so far down on the roof that it should be safe to walk now. I’ll be careful, but I don’t want you to watch. Moving his body might be the only way to get rid of the spikes, and I don’t want you to have to see that. So just listen for me, okay? Don’t go down there unless I tell you that it’s safe. Do you understand?”

She just slowly nods at me, offers another wobbly, unstable smile and a quick “Good luck, don’t die please,” before I allow myself to stand and walk away from her.

And then I’m out the window, taking small and cautious steps, not allowing myself the opportunity to slip and fall the way he did. When I get to the spikes, I take a closer look at the man I only knew for a short period of time.

In Carmen’s defense, he really does look quite terrible. Especially this close up. His head is turned towards us, jaw open wider than normal. His lifeless hazel eyes stare into the house, and his face is so much paler than it had been before he stepped through the window. The first spike went through his neck which explains why he never got a chance to scream. At least not one that was audible to us, but probably one that had sounded more like a gurgling gasp while he choked on the very blood that once filled his body. That same blood now pools around him and drips off the house.

The second spike shot through his back and lower abdomen, while the third hit around his knee cap. His leg is now bent at an unnatural angle, and even though I didn’t know him well, part of me hopes that he died on impact rather than having to live through even a second of the pain. All jokes aside, it isn’t a death I’d wish on anyone.

I use the spikes as leverage and wrap my hands around them. Sidestepping to where his feet are, I squeeze my body in between two of them before peeking at the ground below. The drop shouldn’t be any more than 10 feet which, yes, will make for an uncomfortable landing, but is manageable.

I can live with manageable.

I begin to shift and turn my body back to the house when I realize that I have no idea what traps lay below me. Instead, I decide to do something that others may think terrible, but I am okay with being thought of as such if it means that I live past this drop.

I unlace his boots, so similar to mine, and toss them on the ground below in two separate areas, and wait for a reaction. After a few moments of stillness, I figure it’s safe for me to resume my descent and lower myself to a sitting position on the ledge.

Twisting my body, I grab the edge and allow myself to drop. I hold on for dear life while I dangle several feet above the ground, hoping to brace for the pain and damage from the fall. Unfortunately, of all the things that I can’t remember, my brain decides that now is the time to remind me that heights and I are not friends. Not in the slightest.

And suddenly, the height is decidedly a little less manageable. But I know I don’t have much of a choice except to let go.

“Silene, my love, you can’t hang on forever.”

It was barely a whisper in the back of my mind, a voice that didn’t belong to me, but it was enough to finally let go. If not for myself, then for the memory of the man with a deep, honeyed voice who had to have, at one point or another, spoken to me with such tenderness and affection. I don’t know if I was able to then, but I will let go now.

And when I land on my feet, I bend my legs to ensure no injuries would result from my landing and to, hopefully, ease the pain making its way through my legs on impact. My hands hit the ground to steady myself. I only let myself take a second to notice how soft and green the grass is between my fingertips because once I have my balance, I slowly rise up and turn my body so it’s no longer facing the house of mystery, and instead, is facing the land stretched out around me.

The first thing I notice is the vast stretch of flatland that looks like it forms a circle around the house before trees burst from the Earth. Trees that look as if they have stood for hundreds of years and will stand for a hundred more if they must. Evergreens that are so full of life, I know I could stare for hours if given the chance. I would walk through those foggy woods slow enough to memorize every tree and wonder what it had lived through. Maybe wonder how many had been planted and meticulously tended to and how many had willed themselves to life. I would’ve—

My thoughts are cut off when someone barrels into my body and pushes my back against the hard wall of the house. My head makes harsh contact with brick as the stranger slaps a dark hand over my mouth. And when my eyes open up again, they’re met with the wild, frantic and possibly, crazed gaze of another woman.