The first noise to come out of Daniel upon awakening wasn’t an exclamation, but a whimper. The stressful moan of a man coming-to, exhausted from his lungs. From a pitch black cavern, to a well lit room, his eyes were certainly taking time to adjust.
He doesn’t remember being knocked unconscious, but he definitely felt the pain from it. His instinct to rub the back of his head was halted, as his wrists felt tightened when trying to move them. They were strapped to the chair upon which he was placed. Even though the seat was rather comfortable, the situation was was pretty alarming, considering a moment ago he was hiding behind a bunch of rock.
“What’s the worry boy?” spoke the loud voice of a woman. He winced a little, not quite adjusted or ready to hear anything. She sat at the other end of the table in front of him, quill in hand. Not looking at him, but giving him enough attention so he knows he’s not alone in the room. Continue reading
In the wake of Leopold’s death, a note was left behind in his study. He explained, in what read like a confession, that he was going back to the place to where it all started. The hollowed cave at the bottom of the cliff.
A group tried to search for the body. But the haunting, hallowed darkness of the cave forced them to turn back, as they could not find a single thing. As a result, they boarded up the cave and plastered the warning ‘unsafe for entry’ across the boards.
Swimming in the area became off limits, and parents didn’t want their children to go anywhere near the cave. Though it didn’t stop the youth from making it a popular hangout. One where they would always sneak out to at night and tell ghost stories about their founding mayor, while gathered in front of the closed entryway.
Around 90 years ago, it was believed that Harbourstone would have had a beginning as a small mining community. It was the reason why the town was formed, but not the reason it is still around today.
All across the country people would travel by the dozens looking for precious minerals so they can make large sums of money. All hoping to clock in an afternoon of hard labour so they can spend the rest of their lives in wealth and luxury. Yet, there were two gentleman that did it just for the love of industry.
Ernest Davenport and Leopold Smith were long time partners in the trading business. For many years they travelled; Selling and swapping goods from town to town by horse and carriage. A impactful team of charisma and managing. Every town they went to, they always had a hand in whatever went in and out, becoming a back-bone of sustainability in the commercial goods market.
They were good, they were reliable, and that’s all they wanted. Continue reading
Even with the sun shining above, he couldn’t see anything past 20 feet inside the sunken cemetery. The other funeral attendees crowded around him, looking for just as much an explanation to what happened. Daniel turned around to notice all eyes were on him. There was a part of Daniel that felt compelled to speak with some heroic moment. He would stand tall and explain to everyone that’s he going to go down there and find his uncle…
When he opened his mouth, not a sound was made. The words he had planned in his head made him feel terribly embarrassed, around the hundreds of faces with dumbfounded looks. So he sunk his head down and walked through the crowd with his hand over his face. Luckily the townsfolk were much more interested in ‘the giant elephant on the field.’
The Next couple of days were of much gloom, as the city collectively felt a heavy sadness over the loss of their mayor. Since the funeral was about to take place, Daniel strolled a scenic route through the town on the way to the cemetery. It’s been 10 years since his last visit, so he wanted to reacquaint himself with a town he used to know.
The roads were dusty and quiet. Most of the businesses in the square were closed for the day to mourn. What is usually a bustling area of galavanting and gossip, became a river of black. A parade of misery started from the church, toward the open pit where August will forever rest in piece. Continue reading
It was the 4th night in a row that Daniel Wyke was stuck sleeping in the Foyer of his house. Nothing but his knapsack for a pillow and his jacket to make due as blanket. Restlessly shifting around on an expensive persian rug.
Though it’s nothing as simple as just being locked out. It wasn’t exactly his house.
It belonged to his uncle, August Thorburn. A wealthy man and beloved mayor of the town of Harbourstone (Pop. 8,023). Daniel acquired ownership when August was no where to be found. Continue reading