Fri night 4/11: Majority of the night was a combination of living the TV show Leverage and the online game Shadowrun: Online. The part I do remember the details of, though, was much more interesting:
The snow was melting, but the crunch of ice still clinging to the dead grass could be heard as we walked along the edge of the valley. It was early morning and the sun could be seen trying its best to peer through the grey clouds that still hung low in the sky. Manor house and mansion, each as empty as the last, we walked slowly by in silence as if a single harsh breathe might disturb their peace.
All appeared in various states of ruin, though one in the distance stood out among the others. It's architecture was early 1800's Western European, with the outside at least looking in pristine condition compared to the others we had passed in out travels. Walking up to the door, I rapt loudly thrice and waited, though had expected no response. As the moments lingered on, none came.
Motioning to my friend, they quickly dug in their pockets until a set of lock picks was produced. Placing my ear to the door and holding my breath, I listened for a few more heartbeats for any sign there may be someone inside; silence . Quickly I went to work on the lock, careful to not break it or my tools. In a matter of moments, the lock have an audible "click" and we were in..
Quietly shutting the door behind us we began to take in our new surroundings. Layers of ancient dust and cobwebs generations old covered the hard wood floors and stairs. Light filtered in through the curtainless windows, illuminating our path through vast halls and winding staircases. The furniture was sparse; only a few intricately carved wooden chairs here and there out a long forgotten end table left behind perhaps to cater to the ghosts in this place.
Finding nothing of great value or interest in the east wing, our paths crossed again near the front door and my friend and I began heading west into the kitchen and dining areas. There the same layers of dust covered what appeared to be a well loved and once bet much used hearth along with a stout solid wood table and four chairs. A panty to the south in the room revealed items that had been left in storage; many old cysts of various small items of little to no value, an ancient sewing machine, and a set of sewing needles along with some brightly red colored thread that the dust and spiders seemed to have somehow missed in their travels though the house.
Reaching for the thread to examine it further, I disturb the arty of needles which fall to the floor, scattering. So as not to leave any mess, I carefully gather them up though manage to prick a finger in the process. Finger in mouth occupying one hand, I use the other to put the needles back in their place and with a mournful last look, leave the beautiful thread where it is and close the pantry door.
Just as we make it back into the entryway of the main hall and it's carved pillars, the front door opens and two women enter. They're both very similar in appearance and dress with blonde hair, long past their waists, and dressing gowns; one of grey and one a deep forest green. They look at us not with surprise, but more concern for our presence here. We're asked why we're there by the one in the green gown. Stammering I explain in a hurried lie that we find the front door unlocked and I was searching for a sewing needle. Thankfully I had find one and done what I needed and returned it to its place and we were just getting on our way again. As they start forward and walk past us, it feels like they're not just looking at us but through us; into us almost. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I motion to my friend to start making our way to the door and as I'm making our apologies for disturbing them, we make a break for it back out into the sunlit morning.
The door slams behind us and we're left in silence as the clouds continue to lazily pass over the sun, mocking us with the shadows cast upon us in their dance across the sky.
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