Day 278 - A Brother Found

 A Brother Found

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Brother Marcus followed the crows, thinking it was a sign from above, an insight into deeper meaning. The crows took him west, away from the monastery, towards the village. He followed the crows’ path, but he already knew where they were headed – the inn.

Inside, he saw a familiar face.

Reverend Harding had been missing when chaos overtook the monastery. Brother Kendrick had taken over his chambers and been turned into something horrific. Marcus had worried Harding was dead, or perhaps worse, had helped instigate the madness, a member of some nefarious sect, a brotherhood in league with the devils. But here he was, by the fireplace, with two of the village elders, Lord Hanbrook and Sebastian Skinner.

They huddled over a large tome, a registry of some sort, but Sebastian closed it as Marcus approached.

“Brother Marcus…?”

“Father… the monastery…”

“Yes?”

“Can we speak in private.”

“When I’m finished here.”

“It’s important.”

“So is this.”

Reverend Harding handed him a few coins.

“Pay for a room. Steady yourself. I will be along shortly.”

Marcus didn’t want to argue with the Reverend, but he didn’t know who he could trust and didn’t want to speak of the horrors he had seen in front of the other men. He could tell he was not welcome by them either. He took the coins and apologized for the interruption, which seemed like the polite thing to do.

The room was mostly bare. A bed and a desk for writing and a few candle sticks. Marcus knelt beside the bed and began to pray. He was sure Kendrick was beyond help or hope, but he prayed anyway. He prayed Reverend Harding would know what to do.

Marcus lit the candles and waited, but Harding was slow to arrive. Marcus grew restless with worry. Perhaps he should return to the inn library and see if Harding was still there. But he had already interrupted the men once and was afraid to do so again.

The light from the candles reflected in the windows and Marcus thought his mind was playing tricks on him. He would swear the glow was different. The flames danced back and forth, but in the window, they were still. Almost as if there were two glowing eyes outside his window, looking a back at him.

Marcus took a step closer and his reflection appeared in the glass, but it was warped and strange to behold. It was him, but not. A wraith or a shadow or some other sinister being, there to spy.

Something began scratching on the door and the floorboards creaked and the window pane moaned. Something was coming for him. A cold dead echo of the past.

Marcus ran to the door, but it would not open. He was trapped.