Candor And Curiosity (A Slenderman Romance)

Chapter 11

The living room smelled of coffee and fish, and I concluded that we had either interrupted their dinner or had made it shortly after.

"Oh, you poor darlins." She fawned, tugging at our wet clothing and shaking her head. "Don't go anywhere! I'll be right back with some nice dry clothes for ya."

I wanted to tell her that it was fine.

I mean, I wasn't too fond of entering stranger's homes and having them do too many things for my sake. It always made me uncomfortable. But before I could voice my opinion, the woman had already shuffled out of the room.

"Huh. This is a pretty cozy place they got here." Savannah said, taking in the surroundings.

The living room was small, and had a small sitting area composed of one long sofa, an armchair, and an old rocking chair. They sat right in front of an old stone fireplace, and beside that was a small bookshelf. A small set of stairs were attached to the far wall.

It was a modest home, one that only hard work could have brought about. And to think that...

Someone or something had been killing their valuable livestock.

The old woman returned with two t-shirts, two long  skirts, and two warm blankets.

"Please take these. I know you don't know me, but I wouldn't want you two lovely girls catchin' cold."

"Thank you," I said gratefully, clutching the items to my chest. "Sorry to have to intrude like this. I'm sure you know why we're here."

"Why, of course, of course. But I refuse to talk about that until you two girls are all snug and dry." She ushered us gently towards the door of their small bathroom, where we quickly got changed and went out to start the interview.

*******
"So if I'm not mistaken," Savannah began, "I'm supposed to be speaking to a Mr. Belkin, correct?"

Savannah and I were seated on the long red sofa, while the old lady sat in the rocking chair. We both held a hot mug of freshly brewed coffee in our hands, and the warm fuzzy blankets were strewn over our shoulders.

"Ah, yes. That's my husband. I'm Mrs. Belkin." She said proudly.

"Its very nice to meet you. You've been so kind! I know we probably showed up at an odd time, but you see, my friend here-" I shot Savannah a look. "She forgot to get into contact with you earlier, and the very first issue of the new newspaper is being issued this Sunday. So today is her last day to get everything ready."

She gave me an understanding nod, before turning her head towards the stairs.

"Enoch! Get down here! The journalists are here to talk to you!" She yelled.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'. Hold ya horses, ya hussy!" A male voice yelled back, clearly irritated.

Mrs. Belkin looked back at us, seemingly embarrassed by her husband's behavior. "He's always like that. He's a bit of a sour pickle, and he's gotten worse ever since something started killing our sheep..."

Footsteps sounded down the stairs now, getting closer and closer. The final screech of the floorboards underneath us indicated that whoever had been descending the stairs had reached the bottom.

A tall, lanky old man approached the sitting area slowly, dragging his slippered feet  across the floor. He wore a tired, and somewhat irritated expression on his thin, sunken face.

"You must be them people that they told me them was gonna send." Mr. Belkin breathed tiredly, before plopping into the armchair.

"That's right!" Savannah piped in. "We're journalists from the Pennsylvania South Newspaper Company, and we're interested in using your situation as a news story."