The Song of the Oak

She approached the door, but the closer she got, the dimmer the light became. As soon as Sylvia placed her hand on the ice cold doorknob, she was plunged into darkness.

She grasped onto the knob and traced her fingers along the intricate designs on the circular doorknob. The doorknob turned with a creak, and she slowly pushed the door open.

What she saw was not what she expected. Dead trees scattered the entire area, and wet moss dangled from the rotten branches. It was dark and gloomy. Everything was gray. Not a single area of color. It was cold and bitter, which explained the icy doorknob. Black clouds hung in the sky like a blanket over the woods. Wind howled, sending a shiver down Sylvia's spine. It made her nauseous. Everything smelled rotten, like anything that once lived here has been dead for a century.

"Hello, Sylvia. I am Nettle, and I will be the one showing you around this place." Nettle's voice was raspy. Nettle was filthy, and her long dark hair was knotted. She had green eyes that could slice through any wall.

"Hi," Sylvia stared at her feet.

Nettle looked at her watch, and grabbed Sylvia's arm tightly. Sylvia gasped as Nettle's icy hand clutched her arm. She saw dirt caked under Nettle's thick fingernails. She shivered.

"Well," Nettle said slowly, with the raspy voice. "We better get a move on before we run out of time."

Nettle yanked Sylvia away from her stillness, and they began to run. They ran together through the thick trees and over the ashes that layered the earth.

Up ahead, Sylvia saw a house. It was a little cottage that did not look very inviting, though Sylvia really wished it did. They drew closer to the cottage, and Sylvia did not feel excitement. Instead, she felt a sense of dread.

Nettle released Sylvia's arm, and she walked up the steps, and onto the porch. The door was black, and the house was a very dull gray. Nettle raised her hand to knock on the door, but she paused just before she did. Her hand lowered and dropped to her side. Sylvia looked up at her.

"I think you should do it," Nettle sneered, making Sylvia very uncomfortable.

Sylvia raised her hand slowly and very reluctantly rapped on the door with her knuckles. Sylvia jumped as the door crashed open and slammed against the wall behind it. Nettle did not seem to be phased by this, and she stepped through the doorway. Sylvia watched, not wanting to step foot into the dreary place.

Down the hallway, Nettle looked back at Sylvia.

"Are you coming?"

Sylvia stepped in, but what she saw made no sense. The hallway was much longer than the house was from the outside. The walls of the hallway were pure cement, and it was damp. Sylvia stepped through the door frame, and the floorboards creaked beneath her feet.

"Nettle! Wait!" Sylvia peered her eyes, to try and see Nettle. It was dark in the hallway, and she could not see a thing.

Suddenly, she felt a hard hand grip on her shoulder from behind. Sylvia jumped and whipped around to see who it was, or what it was. Standing right in front of Sylvia's face was Nettle.

"Don't grab me like that!" Sylvia's heart pounded in her chest.

"Sorry," Nettle said with a sly grin. "But the room I was looking for is right here." Nettle pointed towards a door on the left side of the hallway that she did not notice before. She could have sworn that it was just a cement wall just moments before.

Nettle opened the door and Sylvia was glad that she didn't make her "do the honors" again. Inside was a little library, but it was chilling. The room was quite small, but for the size of the room, there were a lot of bookshelves. Every wall was covered with floor-to-ceiling shelves with a tiny cut out window in the center of one wall. Outside the window were the sad, gray woods.