Inside The Unknown: The Westcott Manor Lies in the Fog

Just Cold

I was scared. Anyone would be. It's so common, yet I've never gotten a solid explanation. I lie there facing upwards staring at myself. Not being able to move. Breathe. Blink. Only hear, and see. I could see myself floating above me. A wicked smile was strewn across my face. I could hear myself whispering. "The clock strikes six at twelve, the clock strikes six at twelve, the clock strikes six at twelve-" over and over again, I spouted useless nonsense. Until it changed. "The clock strikes six at twelve until you wake up sir!" I arose from my paralyzed state, a cold sweat on my forehead. Taking my first gasp for air in what felt like hours. I sat on a couch, much more comfortable than the one I have, in a house (more like a mansion) much larger than my own. "Hello?" I whispered. My mouth was dry. It was as if I sat in a dusty basement for days without any water. "Hello??" I said a bit louder.

"Hey, you're back!" A small voice behind me said. I turned around to the back of the couch, only to see a small boy, looking to be about 7 years old. His white, cotton, buttoned-up' shirt and brown overalls somehow looked very well kept, yet very dirty. He had dark bags under his eyes and his skin looked discolored. He looked... weak.

"Um. Hello. What do you mean I'm back?" He gave me a puzzled look.

"I like your eyes. They're big."

"Thank you... Is your mother home?" He stood up stiff and looked at me with a furrowed brow. I hadn't noticed at first, but his hair was wet. Dripping. "Uh. Are you okay?" He continued to stare at me with unblinking eyes. After a few more seconds, he took a few steps back and turned towards a doorway right behind the couch.

"Daddy! The man's awake!" There was a pause for a few seconds. I have no idea why, but those seconds felt like minutes and it left a sickening feeling in my stomach. I wanted to throw up. I almost did. "Daddy! The man's-"

"I heard you!" A deep and husky voice shouted from the doorway. A few slowly paced yet affirmative steps toward the door, before a tall, built man stood in the doorway. If he stood on his toes, his head would hit the door frame. Needless to say, I was threatened. "I said I... I heard..." he paused in the doorway and stared at me. More like glared at me. He turned to the small boy, still faced toward him, and somehow still soaking wet. I have no idea how. "Hen. Bathroom. Your mother is..." His face somehow grew harder and colder than before. He closed his eyes for a few seconds too long. "Your mother is waiting."

"But... But daddy. Last time-"

"I said... Your mother... Is waiting."

"Yes- yes sir." The boy turned to me for a few seconds and stared deeply into my eyes. "Big. Green. Like mommy." He gave me a slight smile. If it weren't for how sick he looked, I'd say he was cute.

"Hey kid, are you... are you alright there?" I asked, nervous about what his answer might be.

"Yes." He looked down at his feet. Standing in a puddle from his dripping hair. "Just... just cold." He smiled at me, a bit too wide, and began his way toward the spiral staircase. It was just sitting in the middle of the house like it was the main attraction. The boy watched his wet feet go up each step. He was so careful. Like he wanted to make sure he never missed a step. When I turned back to the door where the abnormally large man was standing, he was gone. I scanned the room, seeing no sight of him. The pit in my stomach grew larger the longer the room remained hauntingly dead. I felt a cold chill down my spine that made the hairs on my neck stand up. My joints felt so cold and stiff, I had trouble turning around. But as I did, there sat the tall man in a leather armchair, looking to be in mint condition except one long, deep, cut in the left arm. His legs lay much too far from the chair, it looked unnatural. The glass of whiskey barely being grasped in his hand was... well... frozen.

"Now. You have some nerve showing up here far past after dusk." He looked at me, not angrily, not annoyed, just. Waiting. Like he was saving his emotions until after I responded.

"Well- well. I'm sorry sir, but I have no idea how I got here. To be honest, I can't even recall what my day it is."

"Right. You wouldn't would you?" He looked down at his frozen drink, amused with himself.

"Yes. Now I'm not sure what's going on, but I'd be for comfortable if I got out of your hair, so I suppose I could just get going-" And before I could finish my sentence, a frozen solid glass of liquid courage was sent flying at my head at amazing speed and force. "Oh, shit-" I fell to the floor in a successful attempt to dodge the glass as I heard it smash against the wall behind me. Despite the fear in my eyes, the man who I had now forgotten to get the name of, was laughing so wildly he could've had a heart attack.

"Damn kid, you may be a meater but you sure are one hell of a good time."

"You're fucking insane." He looked at me confused, but I didn't have time to ask why because I was too busy running for the front door. I couldn't explain it, I don't think anyone could, but as my hand was mere inches from touching the handle, in just two powerful, booming footsteps, the man was there too block me with his large arm. I stopped petrified. As I looked down at his giant feet, He towered over me and I could feel his beady eyes stabbing into the back of my head.

"Oh, no son. You can't go out there. The fog rolls in real heavy around this time of year. You'd most definitely get lost. Best stay here. Wouldn't want something to happen to ya. Now would we?" I was far too scared to look at him. But he was smiling. Ear to ear. I could feel it.

"O-oh. Is that right? Well... What time of year would that be?"

"Hehe... One hell of a good time." I took several steps back before I grew the courage to look up, but even then I couldn't do it confidently. He stood in front of the door, blocking it entirely with his body. He turned his head over to the giant Grandfather Clock sitting at the edge of the room. "Almost eight. Not much time now is there. Woke up much later than expected didn't ya?" He smiled so wide. It looked so wrong. Like he had too many teeth.

"What do you mean? How long was I here? What do you mean I woke up later than YOU expected?"

"Mind getting that church bell, and foozler of a son? It's dinner time and thanks to someone, I need some more whiskey. They should be in the upstairs..." he paused and held his breath. "In the upstairs bathroom." Before I could object or say anything, he was already in the kitchen and clanking metal.