The Dark Staircase

This is just a little excerpt from a recent short story of mine. I realized I haven't posted any kind of excerpt on here in forever and the last few offerings I gave were actually poetry which is really strange for me.

For personal reasons, this story was very difficult to write despite the fact that I'd actually had nearly the entire thing plotted before even starting it (a rare thing for me). The main idea is similar to that of an old English folktale I read god knows where god knows how long ago. I guess if you did a search for The Dark Staircase, you would most likely find at least a couple things but I really did think of the title on my own. Titles have never been a forte of mine (my editors even would often change the working titles I used for newspaper articles) but I am somewhat proud of this one. So sorry if it's not actually original.

Let's go to a hilltop in Ireland:

She shook her head and silently admonished herself. She'd been so desperate to discover something fantastic out here that she was letting her imagination run wild, that was all. Looking closer at the stones, Annie couldn't see how they could ever have looked like gravestones anyway. But then again, depending on how old they were, there was no reason to assume these gravestones had ever looked like the kind she was used to. Not really. If this had been a graveyard and it was really old, then the markers might have been more simple and not as angular as the ones she was accustomed to. If they were that old, then maybe this was no Christian graveyard but a pagan one. Like, for druids or something. Annie didn't really know anything about druids or paganism except that they were old things from Europe. Maybe she could ask Janet about it. It was possible she even knew about this place and had just forgotten about it.

But almost as soon as this thought came to her, Annie got the very distinct feeling that it would be best not to mention it to Janet at all. There had been something in her expression and voice when Annie had first told her of her plans to go for a walk. She'd looked uncomfortable. Maybe even worried. Annie couldn't figure out why. As much as she wanted to believe in things like haunted graveyards, even she couldn't really imagine this place having ghosts and restless spirits milling about it. And surely Janet didn't believe in such things. She couldn't. In addition to being an adult, she'd always struck Annie as the level-headed type. Not a dreamer like her.

Annie bent down next to one of the stones that was more above ground than the others, reached out with one hand and slowly ran her fingers over its rough surface. It felt like a rock. Annie was no geologist or...rock enthusiast. And she was obviously no archaeologist. She knew that for such people, things like stones could sort of speak to them. Tell them about the past. But not her. She was just a bored girl hoping to find wonders within the ordinary. She tried to bring her thoughts back to the realm of rationality. Ok, she allowed, maybe her guesses had all been right. Maybe this had been some ancient, pagan graveyard. And that was definitely interesting. More interesting than anything else she'd found during her time here. It was a little creepy too. But the answers she wanted to the questions this place had raised weren't coming. The spot wasn't that isolated. If there were some, like, artifacts lying around the area, then someone would have found them long before her. Now there were only strange (but maybe not that strange) stones sitting in two rows (that may not be deliberate rows). They couldn't speak to her.

She was about to stand up again but then without even consciously meaning to, she brought her other hand to feel the surface of the stone. Now she could feel something. An impression of...depth. The idea that there was more underneath. Well, sure, she thought. If this is a graveyard then there are bones underneath. No. Something was telling her no. She gazed at the stone, running her hands over it intently. Speak to me, she willed to it. What is underneath?

A long space of time seemed to pass. Annie was starting to believe she'd only imagined that...whatever it was. It hadn't been a voice. Just a feeling. But a powerful feeling. And then the word, no, as distinct as it had been, that wasn't in a voice either. But it had come through as clearly as any voice.

Frustrated, she stood up. Her boredom was getting to her, that was all. She was letting her imagination take over. It was time to go back anyway. All that stuff may have been in her head but either way, it was freaking her out. She looked back to the house. She'd felt so far away for awhile but she could still see it over the rolling hills. Then suddenly, the not-voice imparted another word to her.

Come.

She had no doubts this time. There was some force calling to her, possibly through the stones or up through the ground. She didn't like it. She backed away and nearly stumbled.

Annie did not run back to the house but she walked very quickly. She didn't look back once.

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I'm also really terrible at picking out parts that make for good excerpts from longer works but hopefully that part reads somewhat well on its own. See you next time.