The Keeper

The loose panes of glass rattled fiercely with every powerful gust of Pacific wind that plied them. The torrents shook the wooden window frames, slamming them against the casings, relentlessly. Other than the raging storm, the occasional sound of shattering glass, and the banging of the windows, there was a profound underlying stillness. This eerie stillness hung heavy in the cold night air, looming like a harbinger of impending doom, or something wicked yet to come. Mirrah was startled awake to the violent whistling of the menacing ocean wind, the fierce banging of the windows, and something else; something unexplainable. She blinked her eyes several times in an attempt to clear her foggy brain. Otherwise, she laid silent and still, listening to the raging storm, and trying to familiarize herself with the night sounds, as she desperately tried to clear her sleep addled brain. Suddenly, the storm was veiled by a vociferous wailing that penetrated the night, followed by forlorn moaning, and what appeared to be, indiscernible whispering. Mirrah froze. Motionless she held her breath, trying to delineate the voices. She tried in vain. She couldn’t distinguish words from the whispering that surrounded her. She tried to rationalize what she heard, telling herself, it was just the stock of Steller sea lions that lay on the rocks along the coast. Still, this brought her little comfort. She lay motionless in her bed, as she listened to the pounding of her heart in her ears, and what sounded like a room full of people, all talking at the same time. She tried to distinguish the words echoing around her. She waited only a brief moment, but to her it felt like hours, before reaching over and feeling around blindly for the bedside lamp. She found it instinctually, even in the darkness that surrounded her. She fumbled for the switch; her fingers shaking fiercely. She awkwardly attempted to turn the lamp on, however, when she finally managed the switch…nothing! Abandoning the light, she sat up on the side of the bed, giving herself a moment before standing, and allowing her eyes time to adjust to the darkness. When she was finally able to discern her surroundings, she realized that her husband was not in the bed beside her, and neither was the puppy. Mirrah stood up. As soon as her feet hit the floor, her body was immediately wracked by tremendous pain. The pain was so intense that it literally took her very breath away. Mirrah reached around and pressed her hands to her lower back. She knew exactly what she was experiencing. She felt for her bedroom slippers with her toes, located them, slipped them on, and started toward the door. She knew exactly what she needed to do. She needed a light. She needed to get downstairs. And, she needed to find her husband, immediately! Mirrah carefully, but a quickly as possible, felt her way to the bedroom door, using the familiar stationary furniture as her guide. She thought carefully about what she would do next. She would work her way to the old antique oil lamp which was hanging from the ornate cast iron hook on the wall, just outside the lantern room. It was purchased strictly for show, but Mirrah knew that it worked, and would more than serve her purpose. There was also a new box of stick matches in the antique match dispenser right beside it; if she could just had to make it that far! With every step, her contractions grew more intense. By the time Mirrah made it to the lantern, she was almost doubled over with pain. Although it took her several minutes, Mirrah lit the oil lamp and started awkwardly down the daunting, spiral, staircase. When she finally made it to the landing, she was doing everything in her power to fight the pain and the overwhelming urge to vomit. As she walked down the corridor, in the direction of the kitchen, she stopped, allowing the contraction time to pass. As she stood fighting the pain, another unusual sound stopped her, rendering her motionless. Now, just outside the kitchen, she stood as still as possible. She consciously controlled her breathing, and listened. In that moment, she realized what it was that she heard. It was the whining of the puppy, his nails raking the front door. His faint cries and scratching were almost indiscernible above the fury of the storm. Mirrah wanted to go to him, but she knew she had to find Landy. As she continued toward the living room, something instinctually compelled her to stop. Suddenly, the hair on her arms stood up! She felt the chill of dread enfold her! That same instinct that had stopped her, now urged her to run. Run, and find her husband. She needed to find Landy. She needed to find him now. Mirrah wasted no time. She did run. She was completely unconcerned now, with the pain that ripped through her. She turned the corner into the living room, and once again, came to an immediate stop. She stood motionless at the entry to the living room, where a steady, constant, sound, echoed in the dark recesses of the room. It was the repetitive sound of… squeaking. It was an unfamiliar sound. It was a sound that Mirrah had never heard before. So, to help light the vast space of the living room, she lifted her lantern as high above her head as she could. Just as she lifted the lantern above her, another spasm tore through her body. She cried out in pain, fighting to keep her self upright. Dread suddenly surged through her. This overwhelming feeling of dread left her chilled to the bone. The moment her light illuminated the room, and the origin of the sound became visible, everything became hazy. Mirrah gasped. She unconsciously held her breath as she stared into the semi-darkness, transfixed, at the horrific scene now visible by a narrow beam of her lantern. She stood frozen with shock. Her mind went blank. She fought to rationalize the scene before her. She whispered over and over to herself, “this can’t be real! I’m dreaming!” She thought that this scene before her was just part of some horrific nightmare. But realization quickly outweighed disbelief. Suddenly, there was no longer any physical pain. There was no longer any sound of the raging storm outside, or the puppy at the door, or the rhythmic squeaking that only a moment ago echoed in her ears. At that very instant, there was nothing. For Mirrah, time stood still. Blackness completely enveloped her again as the lantern, unconsciously, crashed to the floor. At that very moment in time, Mirrah Dobrey-Brenton’s beautiful, fairytale life, ceased to exist, as she stared, transfixed, in the direction of the unimaginable vision, that would forever, be burned into her brain! The image of her husband, hanging by the neck, from the living room ceiling! His lifeless body, swinging, in rhythm, to the squeaking sound of the taught rope against the wooden support beam! The once vibrant life, now, completely, drained from his body!