[Horror ITP] Letters From the Mist

[Neknoh]

Proffessor

I know it has been a long time since last I wrote, and since then, many a normal and bland things have happened, however, recently, I moved to continue this search of mine. The town in which I now live is named Innocence, and proffessor, it is nothing short of amasing, I have forwarded some of my research findings to you, and it does really seem as if though something related to It can be found out here.

Really proffessor, this town is fantastical. Hugs and Kisses, Fog

Proffessor

It's now been a week, I'm settling in here in Innocence, I have a small room in the house of an old lady, I'm on the second floor and I can see all the way down to the harbour, the furniture is similar to yours.

Yesterday, another person came to Innocence, Berta over at the pub grumbled something about too many new people and not knowing what we're getting ourselves into. But I must say, this stranger has a lovely voice, especially when he sings, his name is Ethan, and hearing him is like listening to angels.

He sang beneath my window last night, or, I think he did, it was his voice, but I couldn't see him for the fog, it lies oh so thick here on some nights. I think I heard a whale or something... no, it wasn't that bright, it was... darker, it rolled in over the waves, I am not quite sure what it was, but Ethan sang down in the fog, now I'm not even sure the sound was really there.

I have some papers for you to see, having you here would really be all better, but, now with Ethan, I think it is allright anyhow.

Kisses to you Abraham - Fog

Abraham, I'm scared

It's been two weeks since Ethan went missing, I think I can still hear him, on occasion, but I can't see him, I heard that sound from the sea again last night, and as it rolled in, I could smell seaweed in my room, I had the window closed. There's something hiding in my walls I think, I hear skittering and scurrying in there when I try to sleep. I'm still not sure why I'm hearing these things, or why I feel like I'm watched.

Please Abraham, could you please, please, please come here? Come to Innocence, I miss your touch, I miss your gray hair and those reprimanding eyes, I'm not safe here without you Abraham.

Yesterday, I had a dream, a nightmare, I woke, and outside my window, despite me being on the second floor, I saw two eyes, I think they were at least, leering, deep and black, fish eyes I would say, they stared at me. There was a face to them, it was gaunt, it didn't really have a nose, at least I think it didn't, and that thing put its finger to the glass, more a crooked and fingershaped claw than anything, and it began pressing.

The glass cracked Abraham, I could hear it crack, one, thinn white crack running up the window the glass groaned under the strain, and all the time, those eyes kept leering at me, it wanted in, and the window was just about to give way as someone swung open the door and screamed my name, it sounded like you Abraham. "Hellen! Hellen! You have to wake up! NOW!" and I heard the glass break behind me, I heard something scream and felt fingers run through my hair, and I woke, wet with swet, and covered in broken glass. I ran to the bathroom and locked the door behind me, I hid in the bathtub that night, I didn't sleep.

The window still is not fixed, and there is something tapping from inside of my walls, Abraham, please, hurry.

- Fog

The old proffessor sighed where he was sat on the bus, a burly gent on the other side of the isle was laughing hard at telling a rather dirty joke to an elderly woman next to him as he lit a cigarr.

The proffessor was named Abraham Johnson, not the most original of names out there, but then again, his families had never been folks of originality or strange things, that might be the reason he now lectured old and dead religions at various universities across the UK. Whilst lecturing, he had once had an affair with a student, he wasn't overtly proud about it, in fact, it had led to him losing his wife. The students name had been Hellen Fogsworth, she always had had a penchant for mists, and always signed her essays and letters Fog, she used to have rather short blonde hair, he did not know what she looked like now.

Abraham rubbed his forehead free of sweat, the summer heat was killing him, even the rain these past few weeks had been warm enough to drive one back inside the house, or, in this case, onto a bus lacking airconditioning with burly types smoking cigarrs. The letters bothered him, he had gotten the first about a month ago, Hellen had not contacted him for five years, and now, this? He still wasn't sure of what "It" was that she spoke of, she had been a dilligent student, almost obsessed, and, in fact, she had become somewhat of a stalker after their romance ended.

"Old man!"
The bussdriver shouted from the front, Abraham looked up, his gray hair clinging to his head from the heat, "If you want off at Innocence, this is as close as you'll get!"

Abraham turned his green eyes out the window, he could barely see the ocean from here, it was but an offshooting road, badly kept at that, with a roadsign reading "Innocence, 3 Miles" and an arrow leading down the jagged road, the one less traveled by.

"You've got to be kidding me" Abraham grunted, "Is as close as I go, if it doesn't suit you, you can walk even further."


And there he was, stuck at the old road, a beaten and old, brown suitcase in his hand, a trenchcoat, far too hot for this weather, over his arm, and a malformed hat on his sweaty scalp. The bus drove off, its enging coughing and jarring as the wheels more tumbled than rolled away from him, from the intersection, from that road leading to Innocence.

The old man grunted, scratched his back for a moment, the short sleeved shirt was already grating him, he unbottened it slightly, easing the clingy constraint somewhat, but not enough.

And with that, and some grumpy mumbles, he started walking down the beaten and bruised road, whilst something, somewhere, dreamed of men and women it had never before seen this close to Innocence.

[ApeofLight]

Marin, a 16 year old girl that looked more like 14, was sitting alone under a tree along one of the roads that was usually not used. She liked it here. It was quiet and away from people. People were mean, even when they weren't trying to be. That's why she liked her puppets and dolls so much more than people. They did exactly what they were told to do and they never left you. That was the best part about puppets and dolls, Marin thought, they never leave you.

So, the young woman played alone under the nice shady tree with her little dolls and puppets.

[Mina Kobold]

"Three flambéed pancake orders to table seven!"

"Today's course for table two!"

"Chefboy! You take table two!"

Johnny 'Chefboy' Harrison swung between the employees of the busy kitchen while carrying the order through the small restaurant. So far he had only dropped one shrimp while carrying food back and forth and not burned anything when helping the chefs. Not bad for his first day on the job.

"Table two! Your order is ready"

Johnny just manages to put the dish down before tripping and sliding below the table, getting up he cheerily greets the shocked customers and hurries back to the kitchen.

[Voshkod]

Hugh Cunninghame Borthwick, 25th Lord Borthwick, strolls into the little restaurant in the tweeds of the country gentleman. He's tied the dog up outside. The morning fog still hasn't lifted from Innocence, and as he removes his overcoat, small droplets of water hit the floor.

He flashes his fantastic smile around the room, calling "hullo" to one and all. He then takes his usual seat, opens his copy of Birds of England and Scotland, and starts to peruse the day's prey.

[Ponderthought]

Errol Althaus sighs heavily. The sky in in this little corner of Britain was a somber steel grey, just like the rest of the country he'd seen. It's wet and dim, but unlike good old Maryland, it's cold, and the heater in the dinky little car the rental agency had given him was quite broken. He finds himself drifting to the right before he corrects the path of the car.

"Left. Yeah.."

He pulls hard on the wheel to make the turn into the parking lot of a little cafe on the edge of town. The power steering was apparently wrecked too. Wonderful. He sneezes mightily as he steps out of the car and heads towards the front door, hoping to grab a cup of coffee before he goes looking for a hotel.

[Eruantion]

((sorry it's way late. I've been super busy lately))

Roger DeMaryn sat on the musty train surrounded by the dull brown upholstery and the dull sky outside. There was almost no one else on at the time, except for a few kids passing through on summer holiday. Roger tugged at his sweater vest, wondering why he wore it. The summer heat was smothering in the small car, even with the windows down.

Roger looked out the windows and wondered where he would end up. With nothing but a suitcase of clothes and old books, there was little to tie him to his old family life.

The train rattled to a halt outside of a lonely train station. Outside read a sign- "Innocence, 10 km."

Well, thought Roger, this is as good a place as any.

The children on the train gave him odd looks as he got off. He entered the station, seeing only one tired-looking clerk.

"Excuse me, can I get a taxi into town?"

"Sorry, mack, the taxis ain't run out here. You're goin' to have to walk it."

"Walk ten klicks?" asked Roger incredulously.

"Yeah, sorry, mate. That's how it goes."

When Roger arrived in Innocence, dusty and sweaty, there was only one place he saw to stay, and old place called the Hospis. An old vacancy sign hung out in front. Roger, with no other choice, entered the hotel.

[Mina Kobold]

A young long-haired chef-assistant comes up to Borthwick's table with a small notepad and pen in hand, almost getting hit by a particularly gesturing customer flailing is arms while telling his table-mates what he thinks a hilariously amusing story.

"Hullo, sire, what'd it be for tonight?"

Flashing a calm smile, Johnny awaits the lord's order. Being the newest employee he didn't know what customers were regulars and which were just there to feel richer than they were.

[Ponderthought]

Errol wearily made his way into the little cafe, shaking off the dew that was already collecting on his jacket. Fall was approaching alittle more quickly here than he was used to, and he felt a cold coming on. Not that it mattered, he was here on business, with what little was left of his reputation at stake. There would be no excuse for writing this off as a simple runnaway and heading back to the States. He stubbed out his cigarette and pushed into the dining room, finding a nearby booth and collapsing into it with a sigh.

[Voshkod]

"Full breakfast, my lad," Lord Borthwick says with a smile. "Keep the tomato on the grill just a bit longer." Hugh looked around at the newcomers. "Huh. Lots of traffic today, what?"

[Eruantion]

Roger entered the dingy hotel and put some money on the counter for a room. The man at the counter slid him a key. After placing his bag in the musty room, Roger returned to the desk.

"Any idea where I can get some decent food around here?"

The man looked up. "Sorry, what's that?" Roger repeated himself, which he hated doing. "Oh. Yeah, there's one little place across the street that's fairly popular. It's really the best place in town."

"Thanks." he replied, heading out the door. When he left, he realized something was different, that he hadn't noticed before. The air was cool and damp, with a light mist still hanging over the morning. Dismissing it as effects of the sea, Roger entered the little restaurant. He spied a man, looking ridiculous in a mismatched tweed suit. He did, however, look very well off. Roger approached, hoping to get a free meal off this man.

"Good morning, sir," said Roger. The man, Lord Borthwick, looked up at him. "I'm Roger DeMaryn. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

[Voshkod]

"Pleasure to meet you, Roger, an absolute pleasure! I'm Hugh," he says, standing and pumping the newcomer's hand. "What brings you to this end of the Earth? Sit, sit, Johnny? Find out what the man wants to eat!"

[Mina Kobold]

"Full breakfast with extra grill-time for the tomatoes, got it!"

Just as Johnny is about to answer Lord Borthwick's question, Roger enters and sit.

"Of course, sir!"

He replies to Borthwick and then turn to face Roger

"What'd it be, sire?"

[Eruantion]

Roger took his seat and glanced at the menu. He picked the first thing he saw.

"Um, bangers and mash looks good." He turned back to Hugh. "So, Hugh... I don't believe I caught your last name?"

[Voshkod]

Hugh has the good grace to look slightly chagrined. "Don't really have a last name, old boy. It's Lord Borthwick, if you must, but I prefer Hugh."

[Mina Kobold]

"Bangers and mash, got it. If that's all then I'll be back to the kitchen and you'll have it in a few"

Johnny waits for a moment to take additions while scanning the restaurant for other tables waiting to order.

[Lord_Asmodeus]

As the bus rolled to a stop, Jack Lanceson was pulled out of his internal reverie. Sighing, he stood, and trudged out into the English town of Innocence. He'd left home for England to get away from the sort of scenes that reminded him of home, his psychiatrist had told him that would help him relax, but the rolling hills and soft green countryside hadn't been much of a change, and so he'd decided to head here.

Stepping off the bus, Jack pulled out a cigarette with shaky hands and pulled out his lighter, it was a nice lighter, inlaid with silver and with a nice vine-like filigree, though he was sure that wasn't any sort of precious metal, probably just paint. He lit his cigarette and put the lighter back into his pocket, adjusting his small round glasses, his fraying nerves began to calm. He looked about, making sure there was no vaguely illuminated figure lurking nearby, a figure he'd swear followed him wherever he went, it's eyes, or whatever it had in place of eyes, always watching him. He didn't know what it was, and he thought he'd left it back in that old attic of that old building, that his family steadfastedly refused to admit existed, even though his parents had warned him away from it explicitly as a child. He was not sure if they were denying it's existence for the sake of his sanity and his nerves, or if there was something more sinister at work. He hadn't checked that the old building was still there. He couldn't bear to see it again.

Jack supposed he should look for work, and a place to stay. He had some cash and credit with a local bank he'd been set up with by his family, but that would not last forever. He would need a source of income. Taking another long drag off of his cigarette, Jack headed off to find himself in the town of Innocence.

[Ponderthought]

Errol sat discontentedly in his booth, the contents of his pockets laid out before him. He had always had a weird tendency to empty his pockets when he sat down at a restaurant. He picked through the collection of random detritus while he waited for service. A beat up cell phone, his grandfathers pocket watch, crumpled napkin with some girl from London's number phone number written on it, a nondescript bottle of anti-anxiety pills, a crumpled pack of stale American Spirit cigarettes. It was a strange little microcosm of his life. He brushed the items to the side and picked up a menu, growing oddly hungry.

[Eruantion]

Roger smiled charmingly. "Hugh it is then." He thought for a moment... Borthwick... that name was familiar. Then it came to him. His father and Hugh's father had known each other somehow. Hugh had taken his inheritance and gone off to live an eccentric life out here in the country. Roger decided to play it off; he did, after all, have a free breakfast to earn.

"You wouldn't be the illustrious 25th Lord Borthwick, would you? I've heard a great many things about you from my father."

[Voshkod]

"Illustrious? No, I wouldn't say that. More a chap who lucked into some money because of who his parents are." A thin, perhaps brittle, smile. "And your father is?"

[ApeofLight]

Marin picks up her dolls and things from under the tree she was sitting under. She smiled slightly, she always enjoyed her evenings with her dolls. As she walks into town moving down one street and then another people might see her and the doll she was carrying. That and the dolls eyes staring right back at them and then continue to stare until there out of sight.

[Eruantion]

"My father?" replied Roger, "He's Rodrick, 17th Lord DeMaryn of Huntly. Did your father never mention him? As for your lifestyle, I must admit I find it rather exciting, going off and doing what's not expected. Unfortunately, I used my father's money in a different way..."

[Mina Kobold]

Deducting that there would be no more orders from the lord and his new acquaintance, Johnny moves on to another table to take orders there before returning to the kitchen to have the dishes done.

"One bangers and mash! One full breakfast with extra grill-time for the tomatoes! One breakfast special with pancakes! two coffees!"

"Calm down, Chefboy. We aren't so noisy that you have to yell, are we?"

(Will wait a bit for the conversation to continue before having him return )

[Voshkod]

"Ah, I understand," Hugh says, digging into his breakfast. "Out of money, old chap? Terrible, terrible thing that."

[Eruantion]

Roger took a bite out of a fat sausage. "Well... yes it is. But I was rather irresponsible with it. It's been causing me some trouble lately."

[Voshkod]

"A fellow wastrel son," Hugh says, racking his brain to remember if there is a 17th Lord DeMaryn in the Social Register, or whether this is just another con-man. Not that it matters. Seems a pleasant enough fellow. "Good thing my father socked away enough for me to waste!"

[Mina Kobold]

Meanwhile, Johnny skips around the kitchen. No worries at all.

Then he notices something on a shelf in the corner of his eye. Something that sends chills down his spine.

But when he look there is nothing but a bag of flour

"Wei~rd"

[Ponderthought]

Errol jumped as a waiter brought him another cup of coffee. It seemed people were always sneaking up on you in England. Stealth waiters. Creepy thought for some reason.

"I uh, sorry. You kind of crept up on me there. Thank you. Any word on those eggs?"

The waiter nodded, and Errol returned to his window gazing. Innocence wasn't much to look at. Wet grey streets. Squared off brown buildings Quaint green lampposts. Morose looking people hurrying from place to place. And something he couldn't quite see... something in the corner of his eye..

He shook a pair of bright blue pills into his hand and swallowed them with a swig of hot coffee. He didn't need to be seeing shadow people again. Not today.

[Eruantion]

"Waste?" laughed Roger. "My good man, if you're implying that you should spend money on me, please perish the thought."
He turned and pulled his billfold, emblazoned with the DeMaryn crest, out of his pocket. "I'm sure I've enough here for this meager breakfast that you shouldn't have to spend your money on..."
Roger appeared crestfallen as he opened his wallet to find only two pound notes inside. Of course he knew that he only had a little left, but hopefully Hugh wouldn't catch his bluff.
Embarrassed, Roger looked up at his dining partner. "I, um, I appear to have spent what I had left on my room. Would you mind terribly? I'll pay you as soon as I can."

[Mina Kobold]

The waiters and chef assistants skip past their table as they try to appease all the customers they had that day, commenting on the unusual amount of customers for the time of week.

[Neknoh]

What a day. the proffessor grumbled as his soles wore ever thinner against the dirt road, his body clammy from sweat, he wiped his forehead again, short strands of gray and white hair practically glued to it. Abraham stopped.

His fingers fumbled with a wooden button on his far too warm overcoat, and eventually produced a pair of glasses, they apeared fogged up to him. A quick rub against the coat disposed of the fog, and the steel bowed glasses rested on his nose, giving a certain sharpness to the image in front of him, that of a sleeping city, and beyond it, a rolling sea that met the sky, both steely gray this boiling hot day. Abraham sighed with relief, his glasses did fog up again though, it really was, unbearably hot, a stray fly buzzed around him as he put the foggy glasses back in their pocket and continued to walk onward, toward Innocence, the gravel of the road crunching beneath his shoes, grinding underneath the wheels of the old and worn suitcase he pulled behind him.

Ever so slowly, he neared the town, until, at long last, the shadows of buildings gave some respite against the heat, a fighting chance to not be boiled with your clothes as the pot. "An inn or hotel would fit snuggly into the day" he mumbled to noone in particular.

"It's right down the road, past the old bookstore and around the corner from that yellow brick house that's somewhat new." A young man answered.

"Oh... well I... thank you." Abraham replied, somewhat puzzled as he looked at the man, it was the sort of man you wouldn't quite remember, average features, sandy hair, and eyes in no particularly interesting colour. He dressed plainly. "Don't bother with thanks, I figured I might as well help, since you're new in town and all." The man smiled a, not particularly special smile.

"Can you tell that easely?" Abraham was not sure if he was dissapointed or amused. The young man pointed at Abraham's suitcase, "It's dusted and worn, fresh scratches from rocks on the road as well, not to mention that only a fool would choose to travel from Innocence, it's such a marvelous place, came here a few weeks ago, and I must say I'm hooked, I'll probably stay here 'till the end of time I reckon." The mans not so special smile broke forth again as he let out a soft laugh. "But look at the time, I have to run." the man waved farewell and headed off down a sidestreet and round a corner. Although the waving motion was brief, Abraham did notice, but was not sure that what he saw was right, that the man had no watch, or rather, he did not seem to have anything much below the elbow, not a hand, not a wrist, not a watch.

Still puzzled by what he didn't see, Abraham kept walking, past fogged up windows. The sign read "Innocent Beds", he figured it a place as good as any to find a piece of food, and maybe one of those beds the sign did promise. The oaken door was not too heavy, and its glass panes, though they seemed foggy at his first glance, were clear as day, or rather, clearer than thisone. He cast a last look at the steely sky and took in the ocean's distant sound before going inside, dreading that it would be awfully warm in there, for it seemed the entrance led straight into the dining hall. A restaurant if you will.

A poorly aged bell tingled as he stepped inside of the room.