Malus

By Barry Boyd Bryson

The Door

Simple, Quiet, and a great danger to everything near it. Three men, Sidney, Curtis, now joined by Oskar, search for it in newly formed Yugoslavia. After meeting a man named Cronan they are told where it is located and they head for its destination. After arriving at it they feel an ominous sense. After it opens, they slowly enter.

Back in Boston, Sir Drake Lucas is notified by Henry Cabot Lodge that they are nowhere to be found. Joined by Pearl Gentry, August Cannon, and others they begin an expedition to find them.

In a faraway land, they are joined by Cronan as they head to the door and enter the deep cave behind it. In its bowels, as they are attacked by bizarre-looking creatures and become endangered. Dividing into two parties they escape down separate tunnels in hopes of survival.

Cronan leads his followers into a beautiful environment that has a pending danger as Drake leads those at his side through a devastating landscape of volcanoes to find a lady who may help them survive. Yet, when she is found, there is another who informs Drake of an even greater danger.

Malus, the truest embodiment of evil, has now put all things at risk of total annihilation. With a great weight upon them, only these few have any chance of preventing him from accomplishing his evil plans.

With only so much time before the decimation of all things, Drake and Cronan lead the others towards an unknown fate, both aware that should they not be successful not only will they all die but everything that exists now will forever be gone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667871295

Book preview

Chapter I

The Arrival

Journal entry of Curtis Greene, 25 October 1923:

- We have arrived. As I looked through the small porthole in my cabin, something about this location felt unsettling to me. Leaving the room I approached the deck and cautiously stepped down along the gangway. In my mind I began to question our coming to this place.

What had started as a rambunctious discussion and ultimately a decision to investigate the curiosity of this place now occurred to me as what may be described as an unconsidered mistake. I, Curtis Greene, and my companion of great intellect, Professor Sidney Clarke, have come here on an expedition of exploration and discovery. Now, as I sit here putting pen to paper in this well-worn public house, I reflect back on what brought us here.

It was in Boston at the Massachusetts Historical Society where we learned of this place and … The Door. This Door was apparently a source of great angst to the locals of the nearby town. This township, which had been previously named Prolaz or gateway, had over time evidently taken the name Smert, Serbian for the word death. We all found the change more than slightly intriguing and decided we must further research that place and find the location of The Door.

The Door.

There were legends of those who went to The Door with little reason and, also according to legend, were never to return or be seen again. As we learned more of this lore in the pitiful few writings discovered in an old library at the heart of the city, our curiosity was piqued. Intrigue of the possibilities overcame our concerns for our own safety, even our own lives. After much effort to gain support, our expedition was finally approved for funding from the Society and two of the supporting universities. We set to making our plans to travel via a small steamship to a town by the name of Srebreno in newly formed Yugoslavia.

Mr. Barnard, a fellow of the Society, was asked to find us someone who could assist us in our endeavors. We told him we needed someone who could understand locals and help us discover the location of The Door. After some days of his own efforts, he told us he had found us our guide. We were instructed to be on the lookout for a person by the name of Oskar Wulf, a man of Germanic descent. We both showed gratitude to Mr. Barnard and, without thinking about the challenges or the dangers of what we were about to face, left the comforts of home for an unknown future in a faraway land.

It took us eight days for a trip normally taking seven. The weather was of the utmost ferocity for the greatest measure of the trip. Along the entire route both Professor Clarke and I learned the true meaning of the word ‘seasick,’ far more than one would ever want to know. I lost a good amount of weight on that ship as I was neither in a condition to eat nor did I want to—so much so that I feel at this moment as if I do not want to return, fearful I might endure such a thing again. The little amount of the cuisine I did manage to eat was of neither quality nor taste.

As we disembarked the paltry excuse of a ship, I had a pervasive feeling of unease for which I wasn’t prepared to which I have already spoken. This town, to the naked eye, would seem as normal, however impoverished it may be. In retrospect, I could not overcome a feeling all about me almost as if sensing our impending doom. Was it a great foreboding of what was to come? Of this I still cannot say and wish not to ponder.

As we moved away from the steamship, trudging our moderate luggage along, I watched the simple folk distributed along the port area and streets. Gulls were soaring above and a strong breeze flowed with the aroma of the sea upon it. There was a man, accompanied by his ruffian dog, who was trying to sell various and sundry items at the edge of the closest road. A woman scurried along the muddy pathways ahead of us holding hands with her three children. Vagabonds sat, seemingly calling out for some form of monies, though I was not sure as I didn’t speak the language. As our feet walked upon the solid earth there was a change in the odor of that place I do not wish to describe in these pages except to merely say it was most offensive.

The people of the town moved about their business. One thing I noticed, though, which I saw as not normal, was truly everybody had their faces covered in some way or another, whether partially or completely, by hats, scarves, hoods, and even high collars for some. As I looked about, I saw everyone watched us with unsettling, staring eyes. The strange looks given by many of those around us all gave to each of the departing passengers was disquieting. It may have been fear maybe even contempt. I wondered if they were afraid of us, of what we were to bring to their town or if they may have even feared what might happen.

We were hailed by the third man of our party to this place, our German scout, Oskar. We shook hands and embraced as men. Oskar was very adept in his skills, which we were to need greatly on our trip. His English, however, through no fault of his own, was atrocious. He seemed a good man, but as I have already written, atrocious. After our greetings and introductions, we strode down what I assumed was the main street.

We moved along as we discussed what we needed to do to prepare to travel to our destination. Oskar was to go find us shelter for the night and, hopefully, transportation so we might not have to travel on foot. Professor Clarke, after losing his focus admiring a building that seemed to have burned down recently, was to search for information about the past of The Door and the area about it. I was assigned to find us a public house where we may all eat. I, of course, having the money I had managed to convert into the local currency, would be the one to pay.

We then parted and went about our separate tasks. I unfortunately also had the task of carrying all of our luggage. Looking around I discovered an old cart that seemed no longer in use, at least that is the excuse I used to confiscate it. I grasped its handles, brought it to the luggage, loaded it, and doing my best to push the cart along, was off to find a public house. As I walked, I could still see the local people around me glaring and scrutinizing me as if I were a danger. I continued to ponder what those around me were thinking, wondering if it could be they just didn’t want strangers about. This I could understand, but I wondered why the intensity.

The ground was horrific, items of clothing in tussled messes, pieces of wood and stone lying about in random fashion, as well as other carts impeding my way. There were depressions set into the ground as far as the eye could see. I felt sure I was to lose a wheel if this were to go on much longer. I finally found what seemed to be a public house. I cast my gaze at the sign above its entrance, completely unable to understand the language it was written in.

I headed towards it, arriving at its front. I could hear a good bit of discussion from inside filling me with hope the day was to get better. I began to move the baggage in one at a time as I did not want them to be left outside where they might get pilfered. I did not trust those around me at this point. I opened the entry door and at that very moment those inside all saw me everyone quickly stopped speaking. Yet again I saw those stares coming from every being within that establishment. It was more than slightly discomforting as if they all felt I was a curse upon them. I moved in and out of the establishment, bringing in the rest of the luggage before sitting at the closest table. When finally a barmaid approached me, cautiously so, asking what I wanted, I was happy to hear she spoke in English. Very broken English, but understandable. I finally settled on Potato Schnapps. One gets what one can.

And here I sit, finishing my writing as I sip the last draught of my drink. Yet nowhere around me do I see either Professor Clarke or Mr. Wulf. -

—

Curtis sat at the table and continued to drink. Occasionally someone would enter, see Curtis, and immediately turn to leave. Rarely did anyone speak, and when they did, it was only to order from the maid or to whisper to someone else near them. After a significant time had elapsed, Curtis became very concerned as to why he had not seen either of his companions. Less so of Oskar as he was sure of his ability to deal with anything coming his way, but Sidney not being there worried him.

Did he get lost? Is he stuck in his thoughts somewhere? Was he assaulted and killed?

Curtis wondered what may have happened. He was aware that Sidney, being only a man of thought, clearly had no capability to defend himself or even at times to notice his surroundings. Curtis also felt he may be in danger from those near him. He knew none of these people or of what they may do to him given the chance.

His mind returned to concern over Professor Clarke, his worries continuing to become greater. There was a point he finally decided he could no longer just sit and wait. Deciding he needed to find the professor, with great haste he stood and turned to head for the door only to run into a man behind him. Both fell with a thunderous sound to the floor, everyone watching but no one standing.

Watch where you’re going— Curtis started to say but stopped when he realized there on the floor, this other man, was none other than Professor Clarke. It looked as if he was very agitated and did not even notice he was sitting on that floor.

Curtis, I’ve found some extraordinary documents you must see! I found them—

Would you like to stand on your feet first or do you want to show me sitting on your rump? spoke Curtis as he arose. He stretched out his hand to assist Sidney who was splayed out upon the floor, totally unaware of his condition.

Hmm? Oh yes. Mr. Clarke stood without notice of the offered assistance. They both took their seats on the chairs at the table. Sidney was without a doubt excited beyond reason.

Great. Here we go, Curtis thought to himself as he waited for Sidney to speak.

Look here! Here, here, look, look! I found these in a warehouse, thrown inside an old wooden chest where they keep all their old records. It makes sense, I guess. Be careful, some of them are very fragile going back to the 1600s.

Curtis listened to Sidney as he looked around him, noticing the locals were gazing at them with a new sense of unease. There wasn’t a group in the house that didn’t have at least one person with eyes towards them in an awkward fashion.

They are almost all missing persons reportings or statements. The oldest one from the 1600s is the only one written by a person who visited The Door and returned.

So not everyone disappeared?

Well, it’s hard to say. This person may have traveled to The Door more than once. One day he left as you can see here in a statement from the town constable. Now whether he went to The Door or just moved, who knows? But look! Here … He pointed to the second page of the script. Curtis realized he was right, it was old and smelled horrible.

"He describes going to The Door and the area around it. It says right here-

‘…and there was a great barrenness about The Door. There showed no matter life or living. And there preserved in that place surrounding me a sense and feeling of the greatest pall. As if the seeds of dread and doom bear all around myself and being. No man of good faith and sensibility would stand there for a moment more. Yet there I so stood.

I affixed my gaze at The Door, a simple thing of wooden make with iron fixings. Its rounded top sealed in the stone of which there alighted not a single cut of a workman’s efforts. To my being I alighted a visage truly more disquieting. As I looked at this dire sight it was revealed to me the fact there was not a handle for one to open this dread thing.

Something in that accursed place is ungodly and amiss.’

Curtis wondered at the writing. Did they really write things that way back then?

Very interesting, but what is he saying?

"You aren’t seeing what is truly intriguing about this document. It’s written in this area of what was at that time Slavonia in the 1600s, about something close to here, and it’s written in English! English!"

Curtis thought on this, but all he could think of in response was, And …?

Sidney grabbed Curtis’s wrist.

Who would have possibly lived in such a time in this area who was not only competent in English but could write so eloquently? spoke Sidney, almost shaking as he did. And they wrote it in such a way as the locals would not be able to understand it! It was written to a Slavic hamlet in a language none of them spoke! Why would one do such a thing?

Curtis had no answer. It was a good point, a very good point.

Look here too. There is a scripting of a young boy who was curious about The Door and went to see it and was never heard from again. I was able to translate it with the help of one of the locals. But, here, you can see the townspeople went out to find him. The ones who went to the area of The Door never returned. The boy’s mother went to the area and she never returned—

Goodness, I wonder if—

Afterwards, Sidney interrupted, The Door was considered, he pointed to a place on the papyrus.

‘Fiendish and bedeviled.’ It seems it was shunned from that point on.

Curtis, unable to read what it said looked about him. Evidently it is so thought to this day. The multitude of stares had increased greatly as Sidney spoke. One man even went so far after the last bit as to slam his tankard down and storm out, seeming to curse all the while.

As the man walked through the entry door he ran into Oskar who was entering the public house at the same time. The man spit at Oskar’s feet and stomped away. Oskar, who absolutely ignored the man, walked through the doorway with a smile on his face. Curtis assumed he had accomplished what he had wanted to do.

Mr. Oskar Wulf, you seem in very good spirits! Your task went well, I presume?

Ahhhh, hallo! I found us place to schlaf, er, uh, sleep! He strode over to meet them at the table. Raising his hand to get the attention of the maid he called out, Ein Schnaps und brezeln meine frau!

Mr. Clarke, I found us house on der way to vhere we ist go tomorrow. I have spoken to man who live drausen, uh, outside der, uh, town, ya?

Curtis couldn’t help but think about how bad both Oskar’s accent and pronunciation were. One could understand what it was he was saying, to a point. It was just somewhat torturous getting there.

I haf spoken to a man of der name Cronan. Was polite enough offer to us der night to sleep at his haus, ya? He has also offer us, uh, horses to get to der place ve go.

Curtis was happy to hear that, delighted, if he really understood what he said.

Horses! Oh god, that will make things so much easier. They may stink, but they are a blessing on a long trek like this one is to be.

Yes, I might agree. These back satchels are quite tiresome.

They continued to sit and discuss what was ahead of them. There was a lot, one being that they didn’t want to have to walk.

I wonder, said Curtis, if we could rent someone to take us there. Yes, I’ll admit to the idea I might just be a bit lazy. He laughed and sipped upon his drink, the alcohol taking more of its effect.

Ya dis might be good thing for us to look vor … ahhhhhh! Oskar saw something outside, stood, and rushed out of the pub. Curtis watched him run out, wondering what he was in such a hurry for. He turned to Sidney. His gaze, however, was not returned, noticing Sidney far away in his thoughts. The professor seemed lost in pondering what may be coming and was not paying any attention to the discussion.

Sidney, Curtis said.

Nothing.

Sid … he shouted at him, waving his hand in front of Sidney’s face, ney!

Nothing.

Well, I guess it’s just me now, he said to himself as he sat back, full of enough drink to make it difficult to walk. Even through the fog in his head, though, he could still see the looks.

Those looks. Those many, many looks.

Suddenly the front door slammed open and he watched as Oskar ran back inside. There ist man outside who take us to dis house of Cronan. But ve must go now! Und you must pay dis man, Curtis.

Curtis slowly stood up and stumbled as he tried to walk, trying to use his arms to steady himself, head spinning, body wavering. Oskar did his best not to laugh as he watched Curtis waver as he stood. Curtis began to search through his pockets until he found some money and he gave he had no idea how much to Oskar, who quickly rushed back outside. Sidney did his best to help Curtis out the door.

Outside he noticed a man sitting in a horse-drawn cart. There were canvas bags of something in the back, but Sidney could see that there was still more than enough room for their group and their luggage. Oskar did most of the loading with a little help from the professor. Curtis, barely able to get into the back, stumbled more than once.

Oskar and the man, whom neither Sidney nor Curtis could understand as he spoke, sat on the forward bench. Sidney and Curtis sat behind them in the cart with the luggage sitting on top of some bags. The man who sat on the front bench, crouched over, seeming to try to hide himself, leered over towards them but not at them, speaking but a few words neither Curtis nor Sidney could understand. He was short, dressed in a rough outfit, and sat hunched over, holding the reins tightly in his hands, eyes dreary and mouth tight. Once they were all in, the man whipped the reins, setting the horse ahead, drawing the cart and the four of them on down along the street.

The ride was immediately uncomfortable. Between the uneven road and the old and not-well-built cart itself, there was a constant uneven roll from left to right, forward and back, jolting when they struck the many holes and rocks along the roadway. Curtis and Sidney hit heads more than once, though Curtis was not much aware as he had passed out and snored loudly.

Looking about himself as they moved forward through the town Oskar saw how dismal the lives of the townsfolk truly were. There were many who were sitting around little fires they had made themselves for cooking meat which Oskar could see were either squirrels, birds, or maybe even rats. The buildings all around them were very old and unkempt with many falling into ruins. Oskar eyed those around him as he had little trust in the townsfolk at this point. An occasional brick or wood or even section of plaster would fall from many of the buildings as they passed.

Above them was to be a group of large dark black birds he first thought were ravens but, upon closer inspection, recognized were something unknown to him. He did notice the creatures seemed to follow them as they went through the road’s twists and turns. About him was an aroma beyond any he had encountered and was unimaginably horrific.

Forward they continued through the town, the sun lowering. Slowly, the buildings began to become fewer and fewer, as did the people of the town who continued to cast those ominous stares. As time passed, the townsfolk thinned to very few and finally to nothing. The cart took them all ahead, the road smoothing out slightly, the town disappearing below the hill.

Oskar, seeing the town of Srebreno no longer behind them, felt somewhat relieved yet he had a hard time getting the looks of the townsfolk out of his mind, leaving an uneasy feeling within him. He turned back around and settled in for the ride, glancing towards the reinsman every so often. Oskar viewed the large forest before him knowing this was an area to be wary of owing to his familiarity with many such forests. Aware from his experiences that one never knows what is in them, especially as the night was falling, he prepared for what was ahead.

—

As they went along, the trip became a constant motion through an endless and varied forestation, with an occasional jarring motion when a wheel hit a pothole. Not one of them had spoken since they had left the public house, each of them lost in their thoughts.

Sidney was contemplating all of the possible events ahead, though he had no idea of what actually may happen. Oskar continued to be aware of everything from what animals may attack them to searching the road for fallen trees and rocks possibly hindering them from continuing.

Curtis, who had finally awoken from his drunken slumber, his head still cloudy from the drink, did his best to get his bearings of where he was. He noticed the others were engaged in other things and decided not to interrupt them. The ride continued without a word being said. Sitting up and resting against the side of the cart, Curtis thought back to his past.

Having started life as a young boy in Boston in a moderate part of the town he had no siblings. Curtis was therein brought up as an only child. Valerie Greene, his mother, was a good woman and attended to him with both firmness and affection, doing her best to bring him up to be a good, self-responsible person.

He rarely saw his father, Elwin Greene, as he worked almost fourteen hours a day, seven days a week. When his father was at home he spent every moment he could with him. Elwin would pick him up every time he got home, even when he was in bed, and talk to him before giving him a deep hug. Curtis’s father consistently gave him sage words of advice without hyperbole. The upbringing of both of his parents was to prepare him for the future ahead.

Curtis did well in high school, which eventually allowed him to attend Northeastern University, opening his view on life and his possible future. While there, he met a woman who was to be his first love, Linda Hyde. They had met at the park near the university, and she immediately created a stirring within him he still felt when he thought about her. She was his center from the very moment he laid eyes upon her.

Linda was an extraordinary creature, exquisite in every respect. Intelligent, beautiful, easy to speak to, kind of heart. Whenever he approached her, he spoke more eloquently than was normal as he wanted to make as great an impression on her as possible. The day came that, as they spoke alone, she let him know she had fallen for him as well. They spent many hours a day together falling more into love with each passing day.

Then an unfortunate and dreaded tragedy struck. Influenza had broken out in large mark across the globe and she contracted it. Linda was immediately hospitalized and the doctors refused any request he made to visit her. He began to write her letters every day saying positive things, telling her she would be better.

One day her father visited him and, with a sad face and a tear in his eye, told Curtis she had passed. Curtis refused to accept what he had said at first. Then the reality of it finally struck him and deeply broke his spirit. Shutting himself inside for two full months, he wanted nothing to do with life and considered suicide more than once. As time passed, he was able to force himself out to rejoin the world.

To assuage his heartache and distract himself from his grief, he started a banking business and made out well. The finer things he bought for himself did slowly help him to become an able man again. To this day he has never visited Linda’s grave, unable to bear facing the loss he had endured. He joined the Massachusetts Historical Society so he would be able to meet intelligent people and discuss important things with them. This led him to this present expedition.

Sidney’s thoughts were in consideration of the writings he had seen. He continued to wonder as to why the first person to go to The Door had returned when no one else had. He contemplated what would make that so.

Who was this person? What was different about him?

At least fifteen people had been lost to that area. He wondered if he would eventually become one of them or not. To another point, the writing he had found earlier was the only one without the writer’s name upon it. Sidney could not help but wonder why this person had written such a long description and yet not named himself. He went through every potential reason this person may have had.

As he contemplated this, his mind began to remember back to the lectures he gave to his students about ancient peoples and the histories they created. He had become a professor of paleontology and architecture and had gathered quite a bit of history along the way in order to pursue those interests. One of the great interests he had was the ancient Greeks. They existed as a strong enough civilization from whom the Romans had inherited a large portion of their beliefs and practical approaches in order to forward the Roman Republic and eventually their empire.

His many students were aloof to his teachings, not realizing their significance. Most of them seemed uninterested in what he taught. The professor, though, was fully immersed in the knowledge of such histories. He had learned of the gods of both Roman and Greek societies but focused more on the Greek ones as he enjoyed the depth and variety of that civilization much more than all of the rest.

Through the darkness of night, the horses drew the cart slowly forward through this forested area. There were fleeting sights of trees, bushes, and animals only visible because of a bright moon, but most of the area was difficult to see into.

Curtis, finally able to bring himself out of thinking of his past, looked upon an open area to his left.

I see the deer seem to ignore our presence, he said, the moon casting its glow down on a group of does and fawns. Sidney, lost in his thoughts, didn’t seem to notice his statement, so Curtis grabbed the professor’s shoulder and shook him.

Startled, Sidney bellowed out, What? What is it?

I said the deer don’t seem to notice us. Curtis pointed out across the forest to a herd of deer eating from the ground and the bushes. As was spoken to, they did not even lift their heads to look towards the wagon as it rambled along the small pathway.

Sidney smiled at the sight. You can see they are not disturbed by people much. It is probable because this roadway is not oft used. You can see there are very few signs of wear and lots of small bushes and grass growing.

Sidney had become aware that Oskar would glance at the man with the reins frequently, wondering if he was concerned about him, distrusted him, or possibly was in fear of him. He also noticed the coachman was only looking forward, never once turning his head.

We’ve been on this road for a long way at this point, stated Curtis, staring out across the trees and meadows. Sidney could see Curtis had something else he wanted to say. He decided he would wait to see if Curtis got the courage to say it.

I wonder if we will get there today, Curtis continued. I’m becoming bruised back here being bounced around and all, he said with a smile, rubbing his backside with a grimace.

I’m sure we’ll be there in good time, Mr. Greene.

I hope so. I am … worried.

There it is.

Oh? Of what might you be so concerned? asked Sidney. Curtis’s response was direct.

We have come on this expedition and to my mind, we have not given very deep thought as to what may be here.

Oh, I certainly have. The possibilities are many.

Well, I didn’t. I just wonder if the decision coming on the trip was the right one.

The potential for discovery is upon us. There is, though, the potential also for nothing, said Sidney, or even disaster.

Yeah, disaster. That’s my main concern. I fear we may more likely find the bad than the good. Did you see how the townsfolk looked at us?

Sidney watched ahead as he answered.

No, I can’t say I did. How did they ‘look at us’?

Ominous looks. Wide eyes at times. Fear, maybe anger, the anticipation of bad things. I don’t know what was on their minds, but the looks so many of them gave to us the entire time we were in town were more than disquieting.

Hmmm, I didn’t notice. Why does it concern you?

Is it possible they may know something we don’t and won’t speak of it? Is it a possibility we may be heading into a danger we aren’t aware of? I have a strange feeling of uncertainty floating through my mind.

Sidney measured up this man, Curtis. To Sidney, here and now, Curtis was letting his fears of what may happen to interfere with his ability to see all the possibilities.

Curtis, spoke Sidney in a calm and measured tone, one of mankind’s greatest deliberations is their central dichotomy. One’s inherent fear of what is or what may be to come, and one’s great anticipation and intrigue for what may be next in their discoveries or creations conflict in each of us. One’s character is what determines which of these ideas rules what actions one may take. You have that decision to make, here, at this moment. At this point in your life you are creating who you are in the future. You, and only you, can make this decision.

Curtis lost his breath having just heard such an astute statement. The man was much more aware of life and thought much more deeply than Curtis was aware. He also realized what Sidney had just said was the truth.

Who am I to be? he thought to himself.

Given his past, the fear of things was definitely in his being. However, as Sidney had said, there was the possibility of something great on the horizon.

He wondered.

What is on the horizon? What lies ahead of us?

They were all going to find out one way or another. Yet, as they continued through the woodlands, there was a continually growing sense of unease. Oskar, Curtis, and the man driving the cart all felt it. Curtis noticed Sidney, however, was unaffected for some reason. He watched as Sidney sat there with a smile on his face. But the sensation was there, and neither he nor Oskar understood what it was or where it came from. It was an undefinable sense of … peril.

"Ovdje je kuća!"

It was the coachman, his hand noticeably shaking. Curtis had no idea what the man just said.

What? What was that?

Dere is dis house of Cronan, Oskar clarified. Curtis realized this was the first time Oskar had spoken on the entire ride.

It was hard to see as there was only moonlight casting down. What could be viewed seemed to Curtis to be a simple place. It was made of stone with a small dead garden in front, a stone-walled backyard, a well, and corn could barely be seen growing in the back.

Oskar inhaled the aroma of the corn. He always enjoyed it from back when he was young as he watched his neighbors farm it. The smell almost gave him a sense of being at home. This he knew was definitely not home.

As the coachman brought the cart up to the front of the house, everyone looked with unease at the building. It exerted a dark and ominous feeling noticed even by Sidney and they wondered if this is where the sense they felt came from. There was a single small door with a small window in its middle, and to the left of the door was another small window. There was not a light on inside. Curtis wondered if the owner was asleep or may have left and forgotten them.

Almost in unison, Sidney and Curtis slowly crawled out of the cart. As their feet touched the ground they stood, each of them eyeing the house. Sidney glanced at Curtis who returned his gaze. They both looked back towards the house, unsure of what to do. Oskar walked over to them to join them. There was a moment in which they all stood together, silent, trying to measure up the house standing in front of them.

Ok, well, now what? Curtis asked with a look of bewilderment about him.

He cast his eyes over towards Oskar who shrugged his shoulders. Sidney contemplated on what to do but was unsure of what would be best.

I wonder if we should call out, Sidney suggested.

The silence returned as not one of them knew what the next step should be. Each of them had a pervading discomfort with the idea of going towards the dark house. The only person doing anything was the coachman who was quickly pushing all of their luggage out of the back, their bags falling harshly to the ground, yet not one of the expeditioners even noticed.

Though he still felt anxious, Oskar got up the courage to go knock. But as he stepped forward all of the lights inside the house came on at once and smoke began to billow from the chimney. They looked toward one another, unable to fathom what had just happened.

How is one able to light all of those lights and the fireplace simultaneously? wondered Curtis. Gaslight? But how so the fireplace?

There was a moment when each of them said nothing. From inside could be heard sounds of walking before the door began to slowly open. Out from it stepped a robed figure who stood in the doorway. A dark figure of a man, without motion but with what looked to each of them as an element of darkness surrounding him, his black robes swaying in the breeze. Seeing this man stare directly at them, neither Oskar nor Sidney nor Curtis were able to utter a single word, eyes fixed on this unknown person before them all.

Greetings, said the man slowly in a deep voice. Welcome to my … humble … abode. I am Cronan.

The three men stood silent.

Please, bring in your belongings and sit by the fire. Let us speak of the many things we must consider about tomorrow’s journey.

After being mesmerized by this man in front of them, Oskar turned to grab the luggage and noticed the coachman had left and saw no sign of him even down the road. He elbowed Sidney twice to get his attention who then helped grab some of the luggage. Sidney only