That was all. It was the sort of thing Noah’s cousin did all the time, wandering off to someplace or somebody “interesting” and letting himself be distracted for ages until Noah inevitably had to snap him back to reality. This situation wasn’t that out of the ordinary it was just that, if Mali was to be believed, Cameron had decided to pick the local haunted mansion of all goddamn places to do this. And in November, when Noah could see his breath fogging in the evening air.
So, cold weather, and a spooky, gross old oversized house for Noah to squint angrily up at. Thanks, Cameron.
There was no sign of Cam anywhere on the grounds beyond his (empty) car being parked by a copse of trees just off the side of the road. Noah had chained his bike to one of the trees, imagining that he’d probably come back to see someone had stolen it and then Thanks Cameron x2, before slipping through the front gate.
When walking down the front path, glancing this way and that way through the bleak gardens, still failed to produce a Cam, Noah finally risked cupping his hands around his mouth and calling out:
“Cameron!”
Silence.
Followed by distant corvid noises.
Followed by more silence.
Noah lowered his hands and glared forward at the grand entrance. The door… definitely looked ajar and, okay, Noah considered himself too Sane And Rational to actually believe in ghosts, but that did not mean he was okay with the idea of Cameron wandering around in there. There was probably mold, and loose floorboards, and crap. Noah sighed, dramatically blowing clouds of white breath out, and headed toward the door.
“I cannot believe I am doing this,” Noah announced, as if God Himself might mistakenly think this was how Noah wanted to be spending a Saturday evening, and turned the handle.
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syntheid
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Date: 2018-12-14 06:38 am (UTC)That was all. It was the sort of thing Noah’s cousin did all the time, wandering off to someplace or somebody “interesting” and letting himself be distracted for ages until Noah inevitably had to snap him back to reality. This situation wasn’t that out of the ordinary it was just that, if Mali was to be believed, Cameron had decided to pick the local haunted mansion of all goddamn places to do this. And in November, when Noah could see his breath fogging in the evening air.
So, cold weather, and a spooky, gross old oversized house for Noah to squint angrily up at. Thanks, Cameron.
There was no sign of Cam anywhere on the grounds beyond his (empty) car being parked by a copse of trees just off the side of the road. Noah had chained his bike to one of the trees, imagining that he’d probably come back to see someone had stolen it and then Thanks Cameron x2, before slipping through the front gate.
When walking down the front path, glancing this way and that way through the bleak gardens, still failed to produce a Cam, Noah finally risked cupping his hands around his mouth and calling out:
“Cameron!”
Silence.
Followed by distant corvid noises.
Followed by more silence.
Noah lowered his hands and glared forward at the grand entrance. The door… definitely looked ajar and, okay, Noah considered himself too Sane And Rational to actually believe in ghosts, but that did not mean he was okay with the idea of Cameron wandering around in there. There was probably mold, and loose floorboards, and crap. Noah sighed, dramatically blowing clouds of white breath out, and headed toward the door.
“I cannot believe I am doing this,” Noah announced, as if God Himself might mistakenly think this was how Noah wanted to be spending a Saturday evening, and turned the handle.