It was a Tuesday afternoon in the middle of autumn as I disembarked the train in Suffolk. It was quieter here, so different from the London Liverpool station, where I had started from.
The dew scented, placid atmosphere and soft sound of birds chirping in the distance proved to be most welcoming. I would enjoy my time here. I had already booked to stay in a bed and breakfast.
I decided to walk to the B&B, which was only a few blocks away, to take in and enjoy the countryside.
It was a quaint little house, almost like a cottage out of storybooks. It was small, and had a few bushes and plants lining the path to the door.
The house was also surrounded by tall trees which were shedding their multi-hued leaves on the roof of the house.
The sun bounced off the red and gold leaves, giving it a beautiful, ethereal look. However, I noticed that the houses on this street were few and far apart, which made it seem eerie.
I dragged my suitcase behind me along the path, trying to maneuver the windy path to the door of the inn, tired and looking forward to resting for the night, maybe after a cup of hot cocoa.
As I arrived at the door of the house, the door swung open, and there stood an old lady.
She had a pleasant, round face with red cheeks and small, bright eyes, and she greeted me with a welcoming smile.
“Hello there, you must be, Mrs. Ashworth. I am Clarence. Clarence Darwin.”
“Of course! I’ve been expecting you Mr. Darwin.” Her delicate frame completely belied her voice. It was rather deep, and faintly intimidating.
“Oh, please, call me Clarence!”
“Very well then. You must be tired after your journey; let me show you to your room.” I dragged my suitcase into the house and followed the lady.
Her house was much larger than it appeared to be outside.
She led me through a cozy kitchen, the sparse dining room, and the comfortable living room, before we stopped at a white door that looked quite worn down.
Chips of paint from the door littered the floor beside, as did pieces of wood.
“Do pardon the mess. I didn’t get a chance to clean up before you came.” She smiled apologetically. “I am doing a little renovation around here.
The house is quite old and needs attention but I could never truly change her appearance as I’ve grown up in this house and the familiarity comforts me”
“I understand”, I said. “They don’t make houses like this anymore and I can appreciate the old architecture that is characteristic of the 60’s.”
“Thank you for understanding. I will leave you to freshen up and see you in a few for supper”, she said and left me in the room.
I looked around at what would be home for the next couple of weeks. A clean and moderately furnished room with a comfortable bed and a desk to work at.
But what really caught my attention was the large window that framed most of one wall.
The view outside was beautiful - the beautiful countryside with winding streets and fairytale cottages, the vast greenery and little flower bushes.
Everything framed by the gnarly branches of several trees. It made for a beautiful picture.
I sat down on the bed and thought to myself “I am going to enjoy this quiet and calm away from the big city craziness.”
A few hours later after a nice homemade supper and some more light conversation with Mrs. Ashworth, I began to feel drowsy. I knew it was time to retire to bed.
My bedroom, thankfully, was directly next to the living room, in which Mrs. Ashworth and I had retired to after supper. I thanked her for the meal and made my way towards my room.
The full moon outside was the only source of light in the room besides the little lamp that on the bed stand.
The moonlight lit up the scenery outside my window, making it look both beautiful and mysterious; maybe even a little bit creepy.
I crawled into my bed and was so tired that I nearly tripped on my unpacked suitcase. I set the alarm to wake me at six, so I could get a hot cup of coffee on the way to work.
I drifted to off to sleep with little effort.
I dont usually sleep well the first night in a new place and as suspected, I woke up sometime in the middle of the night.. I reached for my glasses, rubbing my eyes and glanced at the clock.
It was only 1! I did not feel like going back to sleep so I turned on the bedside lamp and opened up the book I’d purchased at the overground station.
It was the latest thriller story from Luna Blakely.
The story was about a young boy who goes to stay in his cousin’s house in a small, rural area, where unsuspecting people are killed for harming trees.
After about an hour of reading, I began to feel my eyes grow heavy again.
I took a sip of water to wet my parched throat and as I turned, I saw something in the window that nearly stopped my heart. There in the window, was a face, staring at me.
It had cold, black eyes, and a mouth that stretched from ear to ear. There was an oozing hole in the face, presumably where the nose used to be.
Framing this terrifying face were what looked like thin strands of oily, tangled hair. Startled, I turned away from the window and rubbed my eyes.
I told myself that It couldn’t have been true! I turned back to the window and felt a wave of relief.
I realized that it was just the moonlight bouncing off the branches and leaves of the trees framing the window. Relieved, i switched off the light and drifted back to sleep.
*** Look out for Pt. 2 Coming soon