Craven Manor(14)

The final rule sounded ominous no matter how he looked at it, but he wasn’t in a position to buck against his instructions. He pulled the window’s heavy drapes together until no moonlight came through then turned the door’s lock. As an extra precaution, he dragged the table’s chair under the door handle. If someone really did intend to attack him in the middle of the night, he would at least hear them and have some warning.

Daniel made himself a simple dinner out of the tins in the cupboard and two slices of bread cooked over the fire. He’d barely slept the previous night, and he was sore from the work, so he figured there was no harm in an early bedtime.

He boiled a pot of water over the fire and awkwardly washed himself, then he changed into clean clothes from his bag and crawled into the bed. It was warm and soft, and the crackling fire created a soothing drone that lulled him into a feeling of security.

The happy glow lasted until shortly after midnight, when something started tapping at his door.





Chapter Seven





Daniel started upright, blinking furiously, as the sheets fell away from him. Sleep crowded his mind and made him sluggish, and it took a minute to remember he was no longer at Kyle’s.

The knock at the door wasn’t a harsh rap, but a soft, curious tp-tp-tp. Daniel doubted it would have woken him if his nerves hadn’t been wound so tightly from the day before.

He slipped out of bed, and his toes curled as they touched the cold floor. The fire had burnt low in its grate. What was left of the glowing embers built layers of shadows across the room’s furniture.

Tp-tp-tp. It was a question, an invitation, and a request all in one. Daniel reached towards the door, impulsively wanting to unfasten the lock and see who was outside, but stilled his hand. The clock on his desk read 12:19 a.m. He wasn’t allowed to open the door or look through the window until dawn.

Why? Fear slammed into him. The rule had been confusing and even unsettling before, but now, it dripped with malevolence. Who is it? What doesn’t Bran want me to see?

Daniel’s fingers itched to tweak the window’s curtain aside. The panes were near the door; all he would need to do was pull the corner back and peek through.

The tapping fell silent. Daniel waited, every muscle tense, then flinched as the tapping shifted to the wall next to the door. He rotated slowly to follow the noise as it ghosted around the cottage. Light knocks grazed over his window. Deeper, slower ones rapped over the space just above the skirting. Daniel tried to swallow, but his tongue was dry and tacky.

Don’t be afraid. Your door is locked. Whatever it is can’t get in.

He slunk towards the fireplace, afraid of making noise in case it would encourage the entity outside, but desperate for more warmth and light. He propped one of the smaller logs on top of the embers and waited for it to catch.

The tapping sound echoed from the back of his home. It reached as high as the roof, and fresh fear spiked through Daniel’s blood. Adrenaline infused him with energy he couldn’t spend and made him twitchy. What could reach the roof? There’s no ladder, no fallen trees to climb on. What the hell is out there?

The knocking had completely circled the building. The final raps, slow and serious, like a final warning, rang out from the front door. Then silence filled the room again.

Daniel stayed crouched on the ground beside the fire. The earlier warmth he’d felt towards Craven Manor had evaporated; all he wanted was for dawn to break through the infernal darkness so that he could leave. The fire didn’t feel hot enough to warm his back as shivers ran through him. Every little noise sounded magnified by the night air. Branches creaked in the wind. Insect whirrs were distorted into an alien language. A crow cried out then was silent.

Minutes trickled into hours, and Daniel’s exhaustion won out. He collapsed sideways on the rug by the fireplace and dozed fitfully. When he finally shook himself back into wakefulness, dawn’s light glossed around the edges of the window’s curtains.

It’s over. He stumbled to his feet and shook his left leg. It had gone numb where he’d lain on it, and pins and needles dug into him as he hopped towards the window. Dawn means it’s safe… doesn’t it?

He pulled back the corner of the curtain. The stone step outside his door was visible, but no one occupied it. Shadows played with early sunlight amongst the erratic garden surrounding his house.

Daniel turned his attention towards Craven Manor. The sun was behind it, making it appear solid black, but he could see the tower stretching up higher than the roof. Light glinted off the curved dome. Something moved in its window.

What was that? Daniel pulled the curtains fully apart to clear his view, but the shape in the tower had disappeared. He could have sworn he’d seen something that looked like a woman’s silhouette. But no matter how hard he strained, all he could see were the two curtains bordering the glass. They shifted a fraction in the breeze. Maybe that’s all there was? Maybe I saw the curtains move and thought they were a person?

The explanation wasn’t as convincing as he would have liked, but he couldn’t see any other answer. No one could be living in the house without disturbing the heavy dust everywhere, and Daniel hadn’t seen any tracks other than his own since he’d arrived.

The memory of the door, tall and painted black with the white cross over its front, made him uneasy. He started to turn away from the cottage’s window but stopped when he noticed a smudge on it.