The new day brought little light. Clouds hung heavy in the air, waiting to finally rain down on the land below. I boarded the train early and after an uneventful journey I reached a station near York.

Nattal had asked me to disembark a stop before reaching the city, he said he lived a short distance outside. Upon reaching the station I found myself the only person in the station, save for one gentleman, a tall man, wearing a black suit. He was far from gentle in aspect. He had huge hands fit for strangling a wild boar and a thick low hanging brow that gave him an almost Neanderthal appearance. He held a small sign in his hands that bore my name. He was my chauffer.

I attempted to introduce myself, a handshake and a broad smile was met by little more than a scowl and a grunt. Clearly not a nice gentleman I thought to myself. The drive was conducted in utter silence, a few attempts at conversation being met with what seemed to be this mans customary grunt.

The ride was bumpy; I frequently hit my head on the ceiling as we hit pot-hole after pot-hole. The car itself sounded like it had been put together by a child; I tried to ignore the consistent rattling. One thing I did notice however was an interesting little statuette he had on his dashboard. It depicted two doves staring intently at a crow, facing forwards. It was an unnerving sculpture, the crows dark little eyes seemed almost to have some kind of soulless life behind them.

Eventually we reached Nattal’s village. It was little more than a hamlet in fact, there were very few buildings scattered around. A church was built in the centre, clearly old as its stonework was almost black even in the golden glow of the setting sun. There was something terribly strange about this village. Strange things seemed commonplace, a barn with a tree attached had half sunk into the ground just off the road and a few burnt buildings were scattered amongst the other houses. I even thought I saw a sickly green light pulse from the windows of the church; I dismissed it as a trick of the light in the corner of my eye.

The car pulled up outside a small, single floored cottage. Not quite what I had been expecting, I had thought Nattal had said he lived in an apartment. I thought it odd but dismissed it quickly. The chauffer climbed from the vehicle and stomped roughly to the house. It was answered by a man, whom I could not see but I assumed it to be Nattal. The chauffer nodded once then ushered me over as the shadow at the door disappeared.

I climbed out of the vehicle and wandered through the thick mud that passed for a road in the village. The great ape-man pointed inside and I obeyed. Stepping finally into Nattal Yathru’s house.

The End

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