Appletree
Resident Fruit Tree
Sasha walked in silence at first. A part of her resented Alroy coming along, or rather that Bubbles was along for the ride. The dog was adorable as she trotted obediently at her masters heel, but she brought out the highly protective side of James that pushed him further towards his sister and thus away from his friend. Even with Fawns supposed truce, it would make for a lonely adventure in the long run if things stayed this way. As they walked however, she found herself tending towards man and dog simply for something to focus on. Engaging in conversation she found Alroy was just as open and friendly as he had appeared to be when first approaching them at the bus stop.
He was happy to keep her entertained and she learned that he was Scottish, which accounted for the accent, visiting his grandparents who had immigrated to America many years ago to fulfil their dream of starting a sheep farm. His stay had lengthened indefinitely while his grandfather recovered from an illness, prompting the elderly couple to gift Alroy his own sheep dog to help with the sudden workload he had to face. Why anyone would dream of raising sheep thousands of miles from their home country was beyond her, but she couldn’t help but smile as Alroy told her about his adventures learning the craft alongside Bubbles and his grandfather’s dog Lassie, the only experienced herder left.
It was growing dark by the time they spotted the dark line ahead that was apparently the estate wall. As they drew closer Sasha began to appreciate the sheer size of the thing. A medieval town could probably fit in in the area encased by the forbidding ivy covered walls. All they needed were a couple of watch towers. Who would build such a huge place all for themselves and so far away from everyone else? Bubble’s questing nose brushed against the half open gate as they entered, making the hinges creek loudly in protest. Inside, the walls were high enough that the dim evening light no longer reached them. Overgrown trees and hedges loomed over and around them and Sasha looked back to the beautifully wrought gate once. It shone like the exit of one of the platform games she sometimes liked to play. From this angle, she thought she could see some form of statues on top of the pillars on either side of the gate, although she couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be. She hurried after the three small beams of light that were the others flashlights. She pulled her own out and switched it on, not sure if the spotlight actually helped her to see or not. It made the darkness around them seem even more foreboding. Alroy had only his phone to act as a torch. The tiny speck of light looked even more lost than the flashlights.
She tried her best to ignore Fawn, who looked about ready to explode with excitement, and Jeanine, whose scaredy cat act was starting to annoy her. At Fawns dramatic gasp, she flicked her flashlight beam up to the balcony just as the others did. Seeing nothing, she rolled her eyes at the antics. The whole situation was clearly going to Fawns head and the other two were only encouraging her.
“Ghosts don’t have to be glowy or transparent,” Alroy threw in his two cents, “just because the media generally portrays them that way.”
“It’s probably just a hobo.” Sasha stated matter of factly, “Or a hermit who’s very glad people don’t come knocking every few hours. Even if there were ghosts in there, it’s not like they can actually do anything to someone, let alone kill them. Isn’t that kind of the point of a ghost? To be spooky and otherwise harmless.”
She was the last to enter the house and couldn’t help the quiet “Oh wow!” that escaped her. Even trashed the place was magnificent. It didn’t take too much imagination to see what it might have looked like in its prime.
“A place like this ought to be made up into a museum.” Alroy started to say, but broke off when Bubbles gave a quiet growl at his side. He looked down at her just as the lights went off. Infinitely glad he already had a hand on her collar he murmured “stay” to the now whimpering dog.
The slamming door made Sasha spin around, eyes futilely searching the gloom for any sign of someone. With her back turned, she didn’t realise they had company till a new voice broke the silence. Glancing back round, she choked in surprise, too shocked to actually feel fear at first. Either this was one freakishly good show or she had finally lost it.
Alroy dropped to his knees beside Bubbles, hugging her shaking frame to his chest, unsure if he was trembling too or if the poor animal was making him shiver along with her. Her high pitched, terrified whines formed an eerie undertone to the already unearthly voices of the figures on the stairs. Only when the sound cut off suddenly did he realise he couldn’t breathe anymore. He paid no heed to the ghosts or the others, desperately feeling for even the slightest puff of air from the dogs lungs, ignoring the burning in his own chest and the darkness creeping in at the edges of his vision.
It was over a second later. Alroy pulled in great gasps of wonderful air as Bubbles collapsed against him, panting hard, only to struggle to her feet and lick gently at his cheek as he fumbled for the clasp of her leash. Even as he freed her from the restraint he knew she would never leave his side, even if there were a way out other than the door that Fawn was pounding futilely against. Despite her youth and the fact that they had not spent much time together, she was as loyal as they came.
The next sound that came out of his beloved dog’s throat chilled him far more than anything the ghosts had said or done so far, yelping screams that sounded more like a child than an animal. Even as agony threatened to pull his body apart he curled around Bubbles, desperate to shield her from the pain that was making her scream so.
Sasha had bitten right through her lower lip in an attempt to remain silent through the torture. She stood stock still, knees locked to prevent her from toppling over and nails biting deep into her palms as she stared fixedly at the ghostly girl, Darcy. She was almost pretty behind the manic look in her eye and the hysterical laughter. Sasha wanted to run at the ghosts on the stairs, wanted to wave her arms and make their transparent images disperse, wanted to scream questions and accusations at the two figures who looked no older than she was herself, but she was locked in place.
When the sensations tearing at her nerves ceaced, a tiny moan escaped her clenched teeth. It took a moment for her to realise that the ghosts were gone, aftershocks of the pain still rippling through her body. She was the first to stumble forwards towards the figure at the head of the stairs. Seeing the beam of light from her newly relit torch lighting the bottom stairs from where she had dropped it at her feet, she raised the shaky beam to point it at the new arrival.
She felt something wet and warm trickle down her chin from her split lip as she opened her mouth to gasp out, “How did you do that? Who are you? Why did you help us?”
She refused to use the word 'saved', conscious mind still not wanting to accept what the rest of her had already understood.
He was happy to keep her entertained and she learned that he was Scottish, which accounted for the accent, visiting his grandparents who had immigrated to America many years ago to fulfil their dream of starting a sheep farm. His stay had lengthened indefinitely while his grandfather recovered from an illness, prompting the elderly couple to gift Alroy his own sheep dog to help with the sudden workload he had to face. Why anyone would dream of raising sheep thousands of miles from their home country was beyond her, but she couldn’t help but smile as Alroy told her about his adventures learning the craft alongside Bubbles and his grandfather’s dog Lassie, the only experienced herder left.
It was growing dark by the time they spotted the dark line ahead that was apparently the estate wall. As they drew closer Sasha began to appreciate the sheer size of the thing. A medieval town could probably fit in in the area encased by the forbidding ivy covered walls. All they needed were a couple of watch towers. Who would build such a huge place all for themselves and so far away from everyone else? Bubble’s questing nose brushed against the half open gate as they entered, making the hinges creek loudly in protest. Inside, the walls were high enough that the dim evening light no longer reached them. Overgrown trees and hedges loomed over and around them and Sasha looked back to the beautifully wrought gate once. It shone like the exit of one of the platform games she sometimes liked to play. From this angle, she thought she could see some form of statues on top of the pillars on either side of the gate, although she couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be. She hurried after the three small beams of light that were the others flashlights. She pulled her own out and switched it on, not sure if the spotlight actually helped her to see or not. It made the darkness around them seem even more foreboding. Alroy had only his phone to act as a torch. The tiny speck of light looked even more lost than the flashlights.
She tried her best to ignore Fawn, who looked about ready to explode with excitement, and Jeanine, whose scaredy cat act was starting to annoy her. At Fawns dramatic gasp, she flicked her flashlight beam up to the balcony just as the others did. Seeing nothing, she rolled her eyes at the antics. The whole situation was clearly going to Fawns head and the other two were only encouraging her.
“Ghosts don’t have to be glowy or transparent,” Alroy threw in his two cents, “just because the media generally portrays them that way.”
“It’s probably just a hobo.” Sasha stated matter of factly, “Or a hermit who’s very glad people don’t come knocking every few hours. Even if there were ghosts in there, it’s not like they can actually do anything to someone, let alone kill them. Isn’t that kind of the point of a ghost? To be spooky and otherwise harmless.”
She was the last to enter the house and couldn’t help the quiet “Oh wow!” that escaped her. Even trashed the place was magnificent. It didn’t take too much imagination to see what it might have looked like in its prime.
“A place like this ought to be made up into a museum.” Alroy started to say, but broke off when Bubbles gave a quiet growl at his side. He looked down at her just as the lights went off. Infinitely glad he already had a hand on her collar he murmured “stay” to the now whimpering dog.
The slamming door made Sasha spin around, eyes futilely searching the gloom for any sign of someone. With her back turned, she didn’t realise they had company till a new voice broke the silence. Glancing back round, she choked in surprise, too shocked to actually feel fear at first. Either this was one freakishly good show or she had finally lost it.
Alroy dropped to his knees beside Bubbles, hugging her shaking frame to his chest, unsure if he was trembling too or if the poor animal was making him shiver along with her. Her high pitched, terrified whines formed an eerie undertone to the already unearthly voices of the figures on the stairs. Only when the sound cut off suddenly did he realise he couldn’t breathe anymore. He paid no heed to the ghosts or the others, desperately feeling for even the slightest puff of air from the dogs lungs, ignoring the burning in his own chest and the darkness creeping in at the edges of his vision.
It was over a second later. Alroy pulled in great gasps of wonderful air as Bubbles collapsed against him, panting hard, only to struggle to her feet and lick gently at his cheek as he fumbled for the clasp of her leash. Even as he freed her from the restraint he knew she would never leave his side, even if there were a way out other than the door that Fawn was pounding futilely against. Despite her youth and the fact that they had not spent much time together, she was as loyal as they came.
The next sound that came out of his beloved dog’s throat chilled him far more than anything the ghosts had said or done so far, yelping screams that sounded more like a child than an animal. Even as agony threatened to pull his body apart he curled around Bubbles, desperate to shield her from the pain that was making her scream so.
Sasha had bitten right through her lower lip in an attempt to remain silent through the torture. She stood stock still, knees locked to prevent her from toppling over and nails biting deep into her palms as she stared fixedly at the ghostly girl, Darcy. She was almost pretty behind the manic look in her eye and the hysterical laughter. Sasha wanted to run at the ghosts on the stairs, wanted to wave her arms and make their transparent images disperse, wanted to scream questions and accusations at the two figures who looked no older than she was herself, but she was locked in place.
When the sensations tearing at her nerves ceaced, a tiny moan escaped her clenched teeth. It took a moment for her to realise that the ghosts were gone, aftershocks of the pain still rippling through her body. She was the first to stumble forwards towards the figure at the head of the stairs. Seeing the beam of light from her newly relit torch lighting the bottom stairs from where she had dropped it at her feet, she raised the shaky beam to point it at the new arrival.
She felt something wet and warm trickle down her chin from her split lip as she opened her mouth to gasp out, “How did you do that? Who are you? Why did you help us?”
She refused to use the word 'saved', conscious mind still not wanting to accept what the rest of her had already understood.
Last edited: