Where Did You Sleep Last Night?
The morning sunlight sliced through the curtains and sat upon Nicholas's face. It was warm and inviting, and caused him to rise slowly from his deep slumber. He heaved himself from his warm sheets, yet fell back into his cushioning mattress, wincing as a blinding pain throbbed in his head. He instinctively put his hands to his cranium only to be met with the rough texture of bandages. What the hell happened?
As confusion and intrigue filled his thoughts, the his aching head was ignored as he made his way to the long mirror included in his residence. He ran his hand through his dark stalks of hair, an abyssal unkempt forest of flowing snakes.
"It wasn't a dream…"
He whispered to himself. His velvet black pajamas danced in the icy morning wind, and he turned to the wide open window that refracted the beautiful rising sun, shimmering with brilliant rays. He kicked his feet into his slippers before traversing down the infinite corridors, turning corner after corner, weaving through the maze of architecture like a bee soaring through blades of grass, a meteor through the obstacles of space.
His slippers slid on the soft carpet that stopped abruptly before the grand staircase, dangling before the pinewood cliff face. Nicholas rushed down the stairs with deft dexterity, and his booming footsteps echoed throughout the large room. The dark doors burst open and the cold stung his skin. His eyes slammed shut to shield them from the blinding rural sunrise. He left a trail of warm air behind him as he trudged through the snow that splashed with the stomps and kicks of his shivering legs until he stopped below his window.
He caught his breath and his head pounded. His legs wobbled as he began to lose focus and his vision dizzied, yet a burning desire within him kept the man from falling into the snow. Once recollected, he stared upward at the window. The height was dizzying, even as the world spun around him. He looked for any evidence that would show him that what happened was real. Clawmarks…hairs…footpri-
He spun around. It was so obvious he could've punched himself for his naivety. As the snow sparkled in the morning light and vapors flowed off of the powder, his baggy eyes surveyed the near-blinding landscape; as the sun rose ceaselessly. A set of long tracks lay dug deep into the snow. They were wide apart. Nicholas attempted to think of any possible animals that could possibly matched, but none came to mind; left only with the haunting images that he so desperately wanted to believe were dreams.
Nicholas let out a long sigh that escaped his mouth like a specter, disappearing into the air, and nearly fell into the snow again, when he was alerting the the crunching of feet in snow. A two legged animal. It was at this point he noticed that in Reemhill, you heard people's footsteps before you saw them.
The person trudged forward in the snow, wearing thick layers of wool and pelts. A sort of trapper? Their clothes were dusted with snow, and in their mitten-covered hands they clutched a rifle that too shined in the rising sun. Through their face covering, air blew out ceaselessly, fatigued by the brilliant white obstacle that plagued the landscape. Nicholas stepped back as they drew near.
"Oh! Mister Robertson! Good morning"
They yanked their icy covering from their mouth, revealing themselves to be the Innkeeper, huffing from marching through the knee-high snow. Despite her apparent exhaustion, she still managed to smile. Her dazzling white teeth almost glowed in the sunrise, or was that just his imagination?
"Come inside. I made some breakfast for you in the kitchen"
The Reemhill Inn kitchen was spacious and ornate , despite not having a designated cook or dining room. It had not been used in ages. Cobwebs were nested into every dark space imaginable, and dust covered every conceivable inch.
The Innkeeper had changed, sporting a beautifully buoyant black dress and white apron. A dark bow puffed out behind her, as if they were wings. Nicholas sat at the island as she cooked for him, watching as the sunrise shined on her skin like pale mirror
He massaged his forehead, rubbing the rough dressing as he attempted to assess the pain that made him squeeze his eyes and grit his teeth every time, and left him to sit, wallowing in defeat.
Eventually, the Innkeeper spun around, delivering unto him a magnificent plate of breakfast. He leaned back in shock as it slid gracefully over and she sat down across from him. She smiled with pride as he gawked, amazement at how quickly she had conjured this feast. It was an impressive meal. Bacon, eggs, sausages, toast, beans, coffee; all cooked to perfection.
"All the ingredients are sourced locally. I got them this morning actually"
The Innkeeper spoke as she stirred a cup of tea deftly, the spoon never banging against the cup. Was there anything she couldn't do perfectly? He ate at a careful pace, not wanting to scarf it down in front of her like some sort of wolf… Try not to think about it, Nicholas…
"Do you sleepwalk, Mister Robertson"
He looked up from his plate with confusion, mouth half-stuffed with food. He took a moment to gulp and compose himself before answering her, unprepared for her investigation.
"No, I don't think so. And please, call me Nicholas"
"Well, you had quite the fall last night, Nicholas. I found you lying at the bottom of the staircase last night. I took you back your room and nursed your injury"
She stifled her laughter as she spoke about his incident, and pressed a finger to his bandages. It caused a flash of pain to shoot through his head for a brief but agonizing moment. He couldn't tell, but he felt his face rush red.
"Yeah. I had a really bad dream. Thank you, though"
She smiled and nodded before sipping her tea. The two sat in silence for a while, and the Innkeeper appeared deep in thought, staring with a blank gaze into nothingness before she spoke again
"Delilah"
Nicholas looked up at her, befuddled at her random statement, again caught with a mouthful of eggs and toast
"My name is Delilah…I didn't think it was fair for me to know your name and for you to not know mine"
"That's very courteous of you"
She laughed at his response, she seemed to relax her posture from it. Nicholas resumed his eating, though it felt like he was glowing, proud that he was able to make her laugh. Its elegance echoed in his aching head for a moment before a reminding thought wormed its way into his train of thought, a stowaway he had forgotten until now.
"Oh! Do you by any chance know how I can find this address?"
He showed her a note on his phone, detailing the address of the property his grandmother left him.
"Yes, I can direct you. It's on the outskirts of the town, near the old Van Trimmace mills"
He sighed and thanked her before finishing his sublime meal, and she left him to attend to the ancient inn. Alone in the dreary kitchen, Nicholas watched the sun rise over the town in the distance, beside the equally shining sea. The morning fog had begun to roll back, retreating like a pest into the dark recedes of the surrounding forests. The heavenly morning light glistened upon the dark and gothic town, revealing its imposing appearance to the glowing brilliance of the Pacific Northwest. It was an obsidian silhouette against the wintry green backdrop. Smoke puffed from chimneys and snow alike as the landscape begun to transformed in the sun's grace, from the cold dark night into a butterfly of brilliant colors, a spectrum of nature.
Yet despite the beautiful metamorphosis that was happening before him, those glassy eyes
and dripping fangs refused to leave his mind, forever fixated on him in front of the gleaming red moonlight…