ETERNAL NIGHTMARE - Part One

For more than a decade the rusting old Ford had served him well. However, tonight, the loyal machine had given in to the years of neglect and merciless misuse, Max had inflicted on it and breathed its last, leaving him unceremoniously stranded by the roadside, miles away from the comforts of civilization.
The cruel bite in the howling wind reminded Max that night was falling. Scanning all four directions with a desperate gaze, served only to confirm his worst suspicions. He was in the middle of nowhere with little or no hope of being discovered until the next morning. For the briefest of moments Max considered the options open to him. Did he bed down for the night in his stricken car, and hope that some passing Samaritan would stop and rescue him, or, did he begin walking, hoping that he might stumble on some secluded dwelling whose kind occupants would offer him shelter for a few hours. With such limited options available, the latter seemed most favorable. It was the twenty-first century, he concluded, surely he wouldn’t have to venture too far before arriving at some rural haven with modern communications where he could at least phone for help.
After walking for what seemed like an eternity, in the increasing darkness, Max began to fear that he would spend the entire night aimlessly wondering along that deserted stretch of moorland road.
Not a single vehicle passed by in either direction. He could see no signs of any welcoming light nearby, or in the distance.
Step after anxious step, Max continued to follow the undulating road, his anxiety rising to frightening levels when he noticed the obvious signs of an approaching storm in the night sky behind him.
With steely determination and more than an uncomfortable level of concern, rapidly developing into fear, Max attempted to quicken his pace.
"Oh, for God’s sake!" he cursed, angrily into the night when the first rain drops began to hit his cold face with annoying regularity.
Within a few minutes the wind had strengthened and pounded him mercilessly with horizontal curtains of ice-cold rain, instantly soaking his inadequate jacket, and making it another torturous burden for him to bear.
Suddenly the landscape was illuminated by a blinding flash of lightening, quickly followed by an increasingly loud rumble of thunder.
Ignoring the tightness in his chest and the agonizing burning in his tired leg muscles. Max dug deep in his resolve, summoning the extra adrenalin to quicken his pace even further.
The sudden influx of energy was short lived, the realization that he was rushing desperately forward, to God only knows where, with not even the slightest inkling of how long he would be forced to endure this agonizing predicament.
Settling back into a more endurable stride, Max lowered his head, in a vain effort to shield his eyes from the stinging rain and relentless blasts of bitter wind.
"There must be somewhere! Somewhere I can wait out this damn storm!" The words echoed with desperation in his head. "I can’t take much more of this," His tired brain admitted.
When the next flash of lightening shattered the blackness around him, Max’s spirits were instantly lifted.
"Oh yes!" he cried out. "Yes … Oh, yes … Thank you God!"
In that brief moment of brilliant brightness, he saw the building, nestled deep in a gully, some hundred meters or so to his left.
With only the slightest clue as to its location, when the darkness of the night engulfed everything, with an even denser blackness, as his eyes struggled to readjust, he broke into a desperate jog.
The image of a blazing fire and a hot steamy mug of tea, etched deep and welcoming into his imagination, his salvation, albeit temporary, seemed assured.
When he left the road and almost instinctively followed a muddy cart track, all but completely hidden beneath a heavy covering of wild vegetation. He struggled towards the inviting lure of a dim light ahead. To dull to be powered by electric, but bright enough to draw him towards its warming glow.
The cart track ended at the gateway to a small garden. From the dull amber glow of what was now recognizable as an old paraffin lamp, Max could plainly see the shape of the small cottage window in which the lamp had been placed.
"Hello! Is there anyone there?" He called out, above the noise of the howling wind, banging his fist anxiously against the wood of the heavy door.
His heart pounded with eager anticipation, when a hand inside the cottage pulled the lamp from the window, allowing him a clear view of a roaring fire in the grate of the fireplace inside the sparsely furnished room.
Slowly the door creaked open to reveal a narrow crack of light from within.
"Who is it? What do you want?" called a n old woman’s voice from inside.
"Hello. I’m sorry to burst in on you," Max began. "Do you have a telephone I could use. My car’s broken down up on the main road."
"You poor dear," replied the woman, quickly opening the door and beckoning him in. "Come in … come in and warm yourself by the fire."
Max needed no second invitation. He turned to close the door behind him, instantly feeling the gratifying warm glow from the raging fire. Even affording himself a brief smile when he wiped his sodden feet on the rough mat in the doorway, noting the strange spelling of the word ‘WELCUMM’ emblazoned in dull red letters on it.
Once again turning to enter into the small dimly lit room, Max took in an astonished gasp, when he discovered he was standing alone. There was no sign of the dear old lady.
"Hello!" he called, his puzzlement obvious in his voice.
Quickly scanning the room with a worried gaze, Max decided she must have made a hasty retreat through the only other doorway leading from the room.
His attention was more drawn towards the fire. His host would undoubtedly return in good time, when she had attended to whatever business had caused her to disappear so hastily.
Hurriedly removing his jacket, which by now had dripped a large pool of water on the floor around his feet. Max crossed the room and took up station close to the fireplace. Instantly steam rose in wispy white clouds as the drying process began. He turned slowly when the intense heat caused his legs to sting.
Suspended above the stone hearth he noticed a copper pan filled almost to the brim with a tempting, bubbling hot broth.
"Hello!" he called again.
Still there was no reply, nor any giveaway sign as to where the old woman had disappeared to.
"Hello.! Are you there?" Again nothing but silence in response.
Giving in to the appetizing smell drifting from the pan, Max gave the steaming liquid a quick stir with a wooden ladle, which hung conveniently nearby with a few other fireside utensils.
First an apprehensive sip, confirming his suspicions. The broth was indeed delicious. Maybe a tad bitter for his sensitive pallet, though he was instantly appreciative of the warm soothing effect it provided.
With the sodden condition of his clothes now diminished to an uncomfortable, damp state, Max decided, with some reluctance that it was time for him to discreetly explore the interior of the tiny cottage, in search of his host.
"Hello!" he called once again, as he ventured through the doorway into the next small adjoining room. The returning silence confirmed the rooms emptiness. Just like the first room, the second was almost devoid of any furniture, except for a solitary old wooden rocking chair, that rocked creakily in front of another open fire. Even the dark walls were bare of any decoration. A window cut into the blandness of the outer wall. It’s outer surface looking out onto the severity of the raging storm. A thin thread-bare curtain wafted inwardly, driven by the wild draft that the ancient wooden window frame allowed through.
A wooden staircase, weak and somewhat rickety in appearance caught Max’s eye, when he advanced slowly towards the center of the room.
The first step objected loudly under the torture of Max’s weight, when he began his perilous ascent. The handrail was alarmingly loose and swayed freely from side to side as he alternated his bulk from one leg to the other, in slow tentative steps.
"Is there anyone up there?" he called nervously, pausing for a brief moment at the mid-way point.
The sound of a door suddenly slamming shut, on the floor above him spurred him with a sudden jolt of nervous energy. Stopping only when his feet detected the relative firmness of the upper floor.
"Come on. Where are you?" His nerves were beginning to fray, manifesting in a display of uncharacteristic irritation.
"This is getting silly now. There’s no need to hide. I’m not going to hurt you," he called, trying to sound reassuring. "I only want to shelter from the storm while it passes over."
He listened intently but felt no surprise when his words echoed around, unanswered.
The upper floor consisted of one room, it’s ceiling formed by the apex of the roof. The only door that could have slammed shoot was that of a single, heavy wardrobe, located against the wall to his left side.
"This is getting bloody weird!" he uttered aloud.
Checking to see if the frail old lady had run up the rackety stairs and hidden herself in the wardrobe was a ludicrous idea, he concluded, and turned to return downstairs.
When he re-entered the main room on the ground floor the tour of inspection of the tiny cottage was complete and the old woman was nowhere to be seen.
"What the hell is going on?" Max continually asked himself. No ideas or answers were forthcoming, only a rising sense of fear welled up inside him.
The torturous trek along the road that head him to this secluded place was beginning to take its toll. A sudden tiredness engulfed him.