The house at the end of the world

The black night smothered the earth, shrouding it in its silent embrace.

Walking through the bitter cold darkness, I sought shelter at an ungodly hour.

I held my heavy cloak close but the cold still seeped through it unbidden.

Far above me storm clouds gathered in an oppressive black sky.

The rain will be merciless tonight.

There, at the end of the world stood a lonely house; I made my way towards it.

It was an old and broken abode drenched in shadow. Darkness bled from its broken windows; a half-shattered door hung listlessly from its broken hinges.

Parts of the tired walls had already fallen in several places.

Shadows slithered across the walls and grounds of the house; demons silently kept vigil upon its decayed walls.

I walked up to the door unchallenged; they weren’t interested in me.

They were here for something else.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a few watching me from a distance, their jaws twisted in savage putrescent grins, unmoving faces drowned in black.

The sky above me thundered threateningly.

Not much of a shelter, but it would have to do.

The door creaked in protest as I entered. The gloom engulfed me like some blood-hungry parasite.

Guilt and regret stained the walls while remnants of shattered dreams crunched underfoot.

Remorse hung heavy in the air.

The gloom flooded into every corner, stifling any shred of color in this pitiful abode.

Something caught my eye. In the blackest corner of this of this lifeless house, there sat...a man?

I moved closer.

There, huddled on the floor, sat a man blanketed in obscurity.

I could just barely hear the sound of his quiet breath.

A flash of lightning revealed him sitting unnaturally still, blindfolded, and bound in heavy rusted chains.

I looked up; the roof was riddled with holes, some large, some small.

I turned my attention back to the morbid curiosity that sat before me.

Strange. His bonds had almost rusted away; and he was not injured in any obvious way.

Why was he here?

He jerked his head up suddenly, and faced me.

"You're not supposed to be in here."

His voice was completely void of feeling, slow, deliberate.

After a long pause in that same dead manner, he asked me to leave.

I stared at him impassively.

He turned his head down slowly, and repeated his request.

Adjusting my heavy cloak, I sat down against the wall facing the man.

It started to rain.

"Who are you, old man?" I asked.

He slowly opened his mouth and a long abrasive scream from deep inside him poured out.

It just kept building higher and higher.

Thunder boomed outside, drowning his scream.

He was silent again.

Unimpressed, I watched him with mild disdain.

Rain gushed down from the holes in the roof.

Undead demons cloaked in black stood in the windows. They were smiling.

I looked at the window. There was nothing there.

After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.

“I am…a prisoner.”

I could feel the weight behind his words.

“Long ago, I built this house with my bare hands. Now, it is my prison.”

I looked at the walls again. Stains of guilt and regret splattered everywhere.

“For all those things that I have said and done…”

His head dipped even lower.

“…for all those things I should have said and done…I deserve to be punished.”

He jerked his head up and cried out in anguish: “I DEMAND PUNISHMENT!”

His voice dropped to a whisper: “Let me pay what I owe, so I can sleep at night.”

The sound of the falling rain filled the empty silence after his words.

For the longest time, neither of us said a word.

The demons watched. Never-moving, faceless, noiseless.

I laughed out loud.

“Fool.” I muttered witheringly.

His head turned slightly.

“You were a coward then and you're a coward now, old man.

You rant on about punishment, but it’s not going to find you sitting in this hole.

Your penance lies out there..."

I pointed to the door.

"If you really wanted punishment you’d be out there, facing your demons…if only you had the guts."

Once more he turned to impassive stone.

A thought occurred to me.

“Or maybe, you’re not looking for punishment after all...” I mused.

“…maybe, you’re just looking for an escape.

In that case, there's an easier way to do that."

I let out a chuckle.

“I’ll make it easy on you, old man.”

It had stopped raining.

I got up and doused the walls with fuel oil.

I rattled a small box of matches loudly.

That and the smell of oil got his attention.

"I'm going to set this house of yours on fire, old man....whether or not you're inside it.

If you want redemption, then go outside and claim it. Or burn to death with your precious prison.

Either way, I will destroy this pathetic dungeon of yours.”

I stepped outside; darkness still held on fast to the tiny house.

The demons watched me in perfect stillness. Dark faces that weren’t faces frozen in sick smiles.

I set the house on fire.

Sitting on a nearby rock, I watched the house burn itself down.

The farthest reaches of the horizon began to lighten softly.

Dawn was on its way.

Did the old man escape?

Or would I find his charred corpse in the burnt ruins of that house?

I stood up.......

and turned my back on the house.

I didn’t really give a damn.

I went on my way.