GA Writing Prompts - 30. # 124 A Creepy Adventure

A Creepy Adventure

"You won’t believe my story. But I’ll tell it anyway," I said in a low voice.

My look was absent-minded and I seized the cup in my hands tightly. I ignored Arthur’s piercing and skeptical look.

I had accidentally found his house when I had stumbled home in the dark. I had seen the light in the windows and I had read the signboard with his name on the wall. I rang the bell because I was feeling despaired. It was already late at night, but Arthur opened the door. He led me to his living room and he made me coffee.

I took another sip. The hot coffee revived me. I was finally able to think more clearly. I sensed Arthur’s piercing eyes on my face.

"You won’t believe my story. But I’ll tell it anyway," I said again.

Arthur made a gesture with his hand. He invited me to speak up. I gave a nod. My look was absent-minded as I recalled what had happened in the past few hours. I took another sip of coffee. I swallowed as I raised my eyes. Arthur’s eyes rested on the wooden crucifix that I was wearing around my neck. It was big and it looked entirely surreal in Arthur’s place. But it fitted my long and brown woolen robe. Arthur’s eyes moved to my bare feet. It was a cold October evening and I was wearing sandals. I was sure Arthur thought that I had gone insane.

Our eyes met for an instant. Arthur’s look was piercing. Apart from that, his face was motionless. He made another gesture with his hand. I cleared my throat and gave a faint nod.

"I left my house a couple of hours ago," I said. "I was going to have a walk with Angus, my dog."

Arthur gave a nod. I swallowed again.

"I took my car. I drove to the beach. I walked along the beach when Angus suddenly started barking and tugging me toward the pier. I followed him. And there I saw it," I said.

I seized the cup tightly. My knuckles turned white from the grasp. I gazed into Arthur’s eyes. Arthur just looked back.

"What did you see?" he asked calmly when I did not continue.

"The boat," I replied. My voice was rough and hoarse. I found that it sounded strange and not familiar.

"The boat?" Arthur asked with a questioning look.

I placed the cup on the table and then I seized the wooden crucifix that I was wearing around my neck. Arthur watched me. His eyes rested on the crucifix. He leaned back a little. I drew my hand back and wiped my mouth nervously.

"The boat, yes," I confirmed. "A small boat, old and made of black wood. It was under the pier. A cold shiver ran up my spine when I saw it. I instantly knew that something was wrong. I felt cold, totally cold. It was a cold October evening. But the coldness that I felt was different. It was ghostly and creepy. It seized my soul," I said.

I leaned forward and looked into Arthur’s eyes. Arthur just looked back. His face was motionless.

"A mist arose when I stepped closer to the boat," I continued. My voice was hoarse and grave.

A barely visible movement of his hand revealed Arthur’s tension and disbelief.

"A mist arose," I repeated, stressing every single word.

Arthur blinked, yet he did not say a word. I knew from the expression on his face, however, that he had not captured the meaning of what I had said. I narrowed my eyes a little as I fixed my gaze on his face.

"The fog crept closer," I said in a gloomy voice. "The fog reached out to me. It surrounded me. And then..."

I fell silent and gave Arthur a dead serious look. Arthur kept gazing at me. Finally, he made a gesture with his hand and leaned forward a bit.

"I followed the ghostly figure that had appeared out of nowhere. I climbed the boat. I had no other choice. I felt tempted in a sense. And then the boat set off," I carried on.

Arthur gave a small nod. A smile showed on his lips, but it lasted only for the split of a second.

"It took me across the river," I said in a serious voice. "The ghostly figure steered the boat. Yet the being did not say a word."

I leaned forward more. And so did Arthur. We looked into each other’s eyes.

"The boat took me to the other side," I said under my breath. "It took me to the realm of the dead. At least this is what the figure told me when I climbed off the boat. ‘Welcome to the realm of the dead,’ it said."

I fell silent. I kept looking at Arthur. Arthur did not move. He did not even blink. He sat like a statue for a while, and then he leaned back in his chair. Arthur shifted in his chair. He crossed his legs and smoothed down the sleeve of his shirt. I watched him warily. Did he not believe me? Did he think I was insane? Didn’t my robe, the sandals and the crucifix convince him that I had witnessed some supernatural event? I had gone through quite some trouble until I had been able to leave the realm of the dead and come back again.

After I had climbed off the boat on the other side of the river, I had stood in utter surprise and bewilderment. The moon was full and shed a ghostly light. At least I was able to see in the dark. I looked out for Angus, my dog. But Angus had not joined me in the boat. I saw a path that led through a field of heather. I followed it reluctantly. I had walked for about five minutes when a rider appeared out of nowhere. His armor was black, his helmet hid his face and he carried a long sword in his hand. I stood petrified and gazed at him as his horse galloped toward me. The rider came closer. He raised his hand. And had not someone knocked me down, the evil knight would have doubtlessly killed me. The black rider turned his horse and came back. But before he had approached me, a man drew me along until we reached a wood. We hid in the undergrowth of the forest. The black rider followed us. But the brier wood was almost impassable. He finally lost interest. He turned his horse and rode away. I did not dare to move anyway.

Someone tugged on the sleeve of my jacket. I turned my head and saw the pale face of a man right in front of me. The man smiled briefly, and then rose to his feet. He smoothed down his dirty robe. I gazed at him in disbelief. Was he a monk or some esoteric weirdo? Or why was he dressed in a long woolen robe? I stood reluctantly. The man looked in the direction where the black night had disappeared. Then he turned to me and gazed at me for a couple of seconds. He looked me up and down. Then he reached out his hand and touched my jacket. He gave me a questioning look. I wondered who the man was and what he wanted. Perhaps he was the member of a secluded church or cult or so.

I looked down to the river. I looked out for the boat. I startled when I realized that the boat was gone. Was I dreaming perhaps? I blinked several times. I wiped my face and clapped my hands. Nothing changed. I was not asleep. I was definitely not dreaming. The man tugged on my sleeve. I turned my head and looked at him more closely. He looked like a medieval monk. His long brown robe was rough and worn. He was wearing sandals. His face was dirty and his hair was disheveled.

"Thank you," I said, remembering that the unknown man had rescued me.

"Are you dead also?" the man asked.

I looked at him in bewilderment. A cold shiver crept up my spine. Definitely a weirdo, I thought.

"I’m not dead. You rescued me," I replied warily.

The monk shrugged and made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"You can only enter the realm of the dead when you’re dead. This is the rule. Anyway, let’s move on," he said.

He turned away from me and walked up the path. I gazed after him. I had a tight feeling in my chest. What was going on here? I gazed at the man’s back as I followed him. He spoke my language, albeit with a foreign accent. Nonetheless, his words sounded modern and not medieval at all. I was absorbed in my thoughts and I startled when the man suddenly stopped and pointed at something. I saw a building. It looked like a church or a castle. An old monastery, I realized. The man turned to me. He shrugged.

"The others are asleep," he said.

I looked at him. The other monks were asleep? I had left the house at 5pm. Did the monks go to bed so early?

"Who is the black rider?" I asked finally.

"Paul," the monk said shortly. "He can’t stick to the rules and laws. He behaves like an outcast in my honest opinion."

The man grimaced. Who could blame him? The black rider had concealed in ambush. He had attacked two unprotected and unarmed men.

"What’s your name?" I asked.

"Johan. I’m from Sweden. I came here yesterday," he replied.

Johan crossed his arms in front of his chest and frowned at me.

"They had just begun. The tournament was fun, but then it got boring rather fast. I travelled a long way to come here, just to find it’s really boring," he said.

He looked me up and down. His frown deepened.

"You ought to dress properly. You don’t fit in with these clothes," he said. Johan turned away and moved on. "Like so many others," he said grumpily.

I followed him slowly.

"My name is Peter. I’m afraid I don’t have any proper clothes. I, well, was not prepared," I said.

I fell silent. What had I not been prepared for? I had no clue at all. Johan turned to me. He studied me. Then he made a gesture with his hand.

"Come with me. I’ll give you a robe. You came with the boat, didn’t you? Well, yes, death took you by surprise. How could you be dressed properly then? I forgot. This is the nature of the game," he said.

He gave me a brief smile, and then moved on. The path led to the monastery. I looked at Johan’s back. I was not dreaming. I was not drugged. I was dead. I shivered inwardly. I had died on the beach for whatever reason. The fog had reached out to me and the boat had taken me to the realm of the dead. Very simple, in fact. Johan’s words opened my eyes.

We reached the monastery. Johan led me to a small building. He opened the door and waved his hand. I entered the hut. Johan followed me and pointed at a pile of clothes. Robes, gowns, cassocks, boots and sandals, and other items and things. I picked a woolen robe and a pair of sandals. I thought that the outfit fitted the monastery best. The monastery was apparently the first place that I had to visit in the afterlife. Johan held out a crucifix on a cord. I placed it around my neck. I looked at Johan. He was also wearing a crucifix. I had not yet noticed it.

"The realm of the dead doesn’t look how I had imagined it," I said.

Johan smiled at me more warmly.

"I had hoped for more fun and entertainment. I wanted to enjoy myself," he said with a shrug.

I returned his smile. Who could blame him? Johan was young. Seventeen or eighteen, I guessed. He had died young. What had happened to him? I was double his age. Why had I died? What had happened to me? I stood motionless with a lump in my throat.

We left the building and moved around a bit. Johan showed me to the kitchen. I wondered why the others were asleep. But I pushed my thoughts aside and sat down with Johan to eat and drink. Johan was not talkative. I was absorbed in thoughts anyway. We sat silently until we heard a noise. Two young men entered the kitchen. They were also dressed in robes. They looked tired and disheveled. I found that they looked like they had a hangover. The two of them greeted us. I gave them a nod. Johan did not reply. He frowned at them instead. The two monks ignored Johan’s frown. They yawned instead, and then took bread, cheese and eggs, and then they left the room.

"I don’t like them," Johan said. "They are drinkers. They feasted this afternoon."

Johan rose to his feet and left the room. I looked at the door that closed behind him. I sat quietly for a while. I had imagined that the afterlife was more splendid, more airy, more...I stopped short. False expectations. False hopes. I leaned back and took a deep breath. I somehow needed to come to terms with it. I stood and left the room also. I went down the path to the river. I didn’t see Johan and the two monks. But, unfortunately, I saw the black rider in the distance. He had not yet seen me. I entered the wood and hid in the undergrowth.

And then I heard her singing. I turned my head and saw a pair of feet. She stood upright and close to me. Had she not seen the black rider? I was about to speak to her when her singing stopped and I heard a loud yell. The black rider had spotted her. I heard his horse approaching. The woman ran out of the wood. I jumped to my feet and hurried after her. She was dressed in a long white gown. Her blonde hair was flowing as she ran through the heather field. The black rider followed her and I followed the rider as fast as I could.

I heard another yell. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the two monks who had entered the kitchen. They cheered aloud. Others left the building and joined the two monks. The group cheered and shouted. I fastened my steps. And then I stumbled over my feet. The black rider saw me falling to the ground. He rushed towards me and dismounted before I was able to rise to my feet. He pointed his sword at me. The crowd shouted and cheered. The black rider captivated me and nobody came for my rescue. The black rider made me walk to a small stone building. He forced me to enter it, and then he locked the door. It was dark inside. The air was stifled. I was totally shocked. My heart beat fast and my mind was blank. After a while, however, I calmed.

My eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light. I was inside of a building, a former horse stable perhaps. The room was empty. The door was locked and there was only one window. I moved to it and looked outside. The full moon shed a ghostly light. I saw the crowd of people in the distance. The black rider had joined them. One man patted his shoulder. The young girl who had run from him only a couple of minutes ago embraced the man. I was at a loss. I did not understand. Was this a conspiracy plot? I watched them until they all disappeared into the house. I waited for another while, and then I broke the window and climbed out of it. My escape was easy. Had they forgotten about the window? Or did they want me to flee the place? But where should I run to? Where should I hide?

I heard a noise. Someone opened the door of the main building. This shook me out of my thoughts. I ran instantly. I ran down to the river. The boat was my only chance to escape this creepy place. I hurried along the river, looking out for the boat. I heard the barking of a dog. I stopped and listened. Angus, my dog, no doubt. Angus was on the other side of the river. I stood motionless, my heart beating fast and my chest heaving with fear. I heard another sound, the lapping of water. I moved closer to the river. The boat was fixed to a wooden post. I climbed it and set the boat adrift. I rowed the boat and crossed the river. Angus was barking loudly. Luckily, he fell silent when I ordered him to.

I gazed and listened into the night. No one was around. Everything was silent. I hurried up the river bank, and then I started to run. I did not stop running until I reached the suburb of the town. I hurried down the streets. I had entirely forgotten about my car.

I looked at Arthur.

"And then I saw your house. I saw the light in the windows. I can’t say how relieved I felt when I read your name on the signboard, Arthur."

I fell silent and gazed at him. My eyelids flickered. I was tired and entirely exhausted. Arthur gave me a smile and a nod. He poured me some more coffee. I took a sip and I seized the cup tightly.

"Where is Angus?" I asked worriedly.

"Sleeping in the corridor," Arthur replied calmly.

He looked at me pensively.

"You don’t believe me, do you?" I asked anxiously.

Arthur folded his hands. He kept looking at me. Suddenly he rose to his feet. I watched him warily.

"I’ll be back in a minute," he replied. "A thought occurred to me."

Arthur left the room. I glanced around nervously. What did he have in mind? I shifted in my chair uncomfortably.

The door opened and Arthur came back with a newspaper in his hand. He gave me a strange look while he crossed the room. He sat down and put the newspaper on the table. He pointed at an announcement. I gave him a questioning look.

"Look," he said. "Read the announcement, Peter. I think this is where you got involved accidentally."

I leaned forward and read:

LARP

Live Action Role Playing

Starting October 5, 6pm

Ending October 7, 10am

Carlington

Theme: Realm of the Dead

Medieval setting

Fee: 5$

My hands were trembling. I placed the cup of coffee on the table quickly. I raised my eyes. Arthur was looking at me. He watched me intently. My thoughts were running. I licked my lips as the words sank in.

"One question remains, though. Two actually," Arthur said. "How did you get into the boat? And did you pay a fee?"

I gazed at Arthur. My mind was chaos. I forced myself to calm down and think. I swallowed.

"Well, I was walking along the beach with Angus. I stopped at what looked like a stall, a booth. I was wondering what they were offering. They offered hot tea and mulled wine. It deemed me strange a bit. A stall on the beach, I mean. But I was cold and so I had a cup of mulled wine. Two actually, I think. They also gave me a brochure. I think I dropped it when I climbed into the boat," I said.

I fell silent. I sensed that my cheeks had blushed.

"It all makes sense now," I said meekly. "The brochure was the ticket, I guess."

Arthur smiled at me. He made a gesture with his hand.

"Stay here for the night, Peter. I have a guestroom. You can have some of my clothes," he said with a look at my woolen robe. We’ll get your car tomorrow."

I nodded faintly. Arthur smiled, and then rose to his feet.

"Thank you, Arthur," I said with relief.