Photo by Alexander Sinn on Unsplash
The house on Haster Hill had gained a reputation over the years, it wasn’t the good kind. Some say that Lord Haster had earned his money as an officer in the war, others say he stole it. All agree that when Lord Haster purchased the land was when the darkness came.
The building itself sits atop the peak of the hill he so humbly named after himself. There are few who remember the hill without the house, it isn’t spoken of except in regard to the house. My great-great grandmother’s paintings are the only recollection I have of the landscape without it. I’m not sure whether my great-great grandmother’s brush was true to the eye, but every painting features lush green grass, vibrant flowers and songbirds sitting in the trees. If the signature didn’t state that it was indeed the hill that overlooked the town, you would think it was some other hill and some other town.
As it was, Haster Hill was no longer vibrant, nor green. The grey earth seemed to absorb sunlight and anything good in the world. It seeped down into the town, tainting everything it touched until nothing would grow. The town emptied. Farmers left their barren fields and sickly animals. Shops closed and houses stood abandoned. Only the hardiest of souls remained.
Thick black briars clawed their way around the house, entangling the fence and doing a far better job of repelling intruders than the fence could ever do. Their vicious thorns were sharp enough to rip through flesh and cloth alike. I had once tried to cut the things back, as they encroached upon the town. The things were as tough as old boots and when we finally cut through, a red sap poured out of them like blood, it stained everything it touched. The only birds to be seen was a murder of crows that lurked in the bone-like branches of dead trees.
As I made my way between the blackened fronts of empty shops towards the base of the hill, I peered at the letter in my hand. It was written on yellowed paper that felt almost greasy to the touch. The writing itself was scrawling, like a spider dipped in ink had skittered across the page. After handling it my hands smelt like must and something unpleasant that I couldn’t quite place.
Dear Ms Robyn Brittia,
It is my greatest honour and pleasure to cordially invite you to tea at Haster House. It appears that we have much to discuss. Please come alone, promptly at 5:00pm. Dress respectably.
Yours Sincerely,
Master Hadrian Haster
Out of all the years that the Haster’s had owned the land, not one single person had been invited into the house, let alone invited to tea. I had a feeling I knew what Master Haster wished to discuss. You see, my great-great grandmother had been a beautiful artist and when Lord Haster began corrupting this land she was less than pleased about it. Her husband was a hunter, who had fared well living off the bounties the woods brought. As the taint from the Hill spread, the creatures of the woods became sickly and weak, poisoned by the very land they lived off.
Neither of them were people who would idly sit and let their lives turn to ruin. The creatures of the wood that didn’t die, changed. They haunted the dying forest, preying upon anyone who ventured close. Their eerie cries filled the air at night. My great-great grandparents took it upon themselves to kill these creatures. Lord Haster protested and claimed that they lived upon his property, therefore they belonged to him. Neither of them listened, in fact they made sure that every generation after them continued the tradition of upsetting the Lord of the Hill.
Unless I had missed something in their journals, not once had the Master of the house invited them to discuss the issue. Threats had been made, even mercenaries had been sent, but never such a blatant invitation. I folded the letter and thrust it into my pocket. My idea of dressing respectably was not the idea of most ladies. I wore my leather coat and hunting boots. My gun was tucked into my belt alongside a knife longer than my forearm. I didn’t expect this tea to be the kind that involved biscuits and scones.
As soon as I placed my foot upon the grey gravel path that led up the hill, I felt it. The ghostly whisper of dread that seeped off the place. The pale sun was setting behind the house, casting long shadows between the barren trees. A crow peered at me with beady yellow eyes. It opened its long beak and let out a grating cry that was taken up by other crows until the air was filled with the sound. All at once they took to the air, their wings were the only thing stirring the brittle bones of the trees. They circled the house once before retreating to the woods beyond.
Not to be deterred by the warning cries of the birds, I continued the long trudge up the path to the house. I wondered when the last time was that anyone had traversed this path. No one came to Haster House and no one left, at least not by this route. The gravel crunched beneath my boots. Underneath the thin layer of stones, the earth looked poisoned, like a thick grey clay that offered no life and no nutrients. The iron gates loomed before me. Usually they would be chained shut and padlocked, this time they stood open, just enough for me to squeeze through. If I had been unused to the sensation of the place, I might have expected them to slam shut behind me. They didn’t. Everything was silent.
Black briars lined the path to the door, deviation was not permitted. The shale walls of the house looked almost black as the sun set behind its walls. The briars had even made their way up some of the walls as if they were trying to get inside, or perhaps that was where they were coming from. Perhaps they were growing from somewhere within and they had spread out into the world beyond. The steps up to the door creaked beneath my feet. There was no bell, only a heavy onyx knocker in the middle of the door. It was carved in the shape of a lion originally; time and corruption had distorted the face, so it looked more demonic than feline.
I lifted the cold handle and tapped it against the plate. I stepped back and waited. After several long moments the door swung inwards and a wizened face leered out at me.
‘You’re late, Ms Brittia,’ she snapped with a voice sturdier than I would have expected from such a frail woman. She held the door open for me and I stepped into a dimly lit entrance hall.
‘My apologies, I had to search my wardrobe for something vaguely respectable,’ I replied with a smirk.
The woman’s dark glare was framed by wisps of grey hair. She slammed the door closed behind me. As soon as it shut, the smell of the place became overpowering, smoke and wax and that same unpleasant scent that clung to the letter. It was like stale urine mixed with entrails and something burnt. The servant woman didn’t offer to take my coat, nor was I going to give it to her even if she had. She picked up a lantern from a bracket on the wall and led the way deeper into the house. Barely any light managed to penetrate the grime on the windows. Animal trophies mounted the walls and watched us pass with hollow eyes. A murky mirror lined the corridor to the dining area. No polish or cloth had ever cleansed its surface. Dark shadows moved beneath the surface, darting away when I looked at them.
I kept close to the light of the lantern. The darkness in the place felt almost like a physical thing. The door to the dining room creaked as it opened. Once, the room may have been impressive. It could have seated at least twenty people at the claw-footed mahogany table. Now there were only two places set, both next to each other at the far end.
‘Sit.’ The woman gestured to the place before vanishing through a second set of doors.
I wasn’t going to be caught sitting, so instead I lingered by the chair. A candle between the two places flickered in an unfelt breeze. The high ceiling was painted with a pattern that reminded me of the briars outside. It vanished into the deep red of the walls.
‘Ms Brittia.’
I jumped. I hadn’t heard the door open. Lord Haster Junior lurked by the entrance like he was made of shadows. He stepped into the light towards me. If it wasn’t for his impenetrable black eyes and choice of residence, he might have been handsome. He thrust out a pale hand for me. Reluctantly I shook it. I expected it to be cold and clammy, like something dead. Instead it was warm and soft.
‘Please, take a seat. I do apologise for Mary’s behaviour. She has not been the same since my mother passed. Really, she should retire, but alas, there is nowhere else for her to go. I keep her on out of pity more than anything, it certainly isn’t for her cleaning skills,’ he ran a finger through the dust adorning the table and laughed to himself.
I have to admit, he wasn’t what I expected. I sat down next to him, pulling my chair out, so I could stand up easily if it was required. Hadrian Haster raised an eyebrow but made no comment. Mary reappeared carrying a tray in trembling hands. She plonked it on the table and shuffled back into the kitchen.
‘Tea?’ Hadrian asked. Without waiting for an answer, he poured me a cup and offered me the milk. I wondered where he had got it from, no traders ever ventured up to the house and I had certainly never seen anyone leave the it by the driveway either. I nodded my thanks but left the tea untouched. Hadrian shrugged and poured himself one, plopping three sugars into the brown liquid.
‘Your invitation is quite overdue. I wasn’t sure if you would come,’ he smiled.
‘I wasn’t sure either,’ I admitted. I cursed myself inwardly. I hadn’t been expecting to encounter this charming being within these walls. Mutated monsters and corrupted beasts I could deal with. Casual conversation with handsome strangers was not my strong suit. I took a deep breath; I had been taught better than this. ‘Why am I here?’
‘Ah, straight to the point I see. For generations your family and my family have had their differences and disagreements. To put it bluntly, you have been poaching on my land. Now, I am a reasonable man, you are a reasonable woman, I am sure we can come to some agreement.’
I watched him with my hands resting in my lap, close to my gun. Even a snake could be beautiful if it wasn’t baring its fangs.
‘Poaching is an interesting word for it. Cleansing would probably be more apt,’ I replied.
He raised his hands and nodded. ‘Call it what you will, in accordance with the law it is still illegal.’
‘And in accordance with the law, how legal is what you do here?’ I snapped.
His brow furrowed before a faint smile brushed across his lips. ‘And what exactly is it that I do here?’
I met his eyes and stared into the dark pools of pitch. I wouldn’t fall for his games.
‘I may not know the specifics, but I know the consequences. I’ve seen that with my own eyes. I have seen the life drain from this land and the poison spread. I’ve killed the beasts that rise from the ashes of your actions. If you invited me here to make a bargain, how about this – you stop what you’re doing, leave this place and never come back again, and I won’t slit your throat.’
Lord Haster tipped back his head and let out a laugh so harsh it sent shivers tumbling down my spine. It took him a minute to regain control of himself.
‘Oh dear,’ he sniffed. ‘I haven’t laughed that hard in ages. Ah, you Brittia’s have always thought that you know everything. Come with me.’ He stood up. My hand went instinctively to my gun. ‘Bring your gun if you wish,’ he said.
I followed him at a distance, back through the winding halls of his home. With a heavy iron key, he unlocked a door that opened onto a stone staircase. They led deep down beneath the foundations of the house, into the heart of Haster Hill. I had expected the air to be cold down here, instead it was warm almost stifling. That horrible smell kept getting stronger the deeper we went. I drew my gun. Lord Haster didn’t even acknowledge it as he led the way with his flickering lantern into the bowels of the earth.
A dim red light began to glow at the bottom of the stairs. It was just a sliver of crimson that seeped out from beneath a thick iron door. He selected another key and unlocked it. The door swung inwards and we stepped into a room bathed by the red light. The smell was so overpowering I had to hold my breath for a moment to stop myself from gagging.
The far wall was made of earth, but in the centre, it was ripped open and red. It was like the earth itself had been sliced open and it was bleeding. The light seeped from the tear and it throbbed as we approached. Crimson tendrils spread from the wound, smothering everything they touched.
‘What is this? What occult madness have you been conducting?’ I cried and pointed my gun at Haster’s head.
‘My great-great grandfather was a fool. A brave man, but a fool all the same. When he purchased this land, the sickness was only just beginning. Just a taint to the air, a bitter tang to the earth and all that grew upon it. He thought that he could stop it. He purchased the land to contain the spread as he had seen done during the war. It was easier there though. He had had a teacher and all the help he could have needed to contain the darkness. Here he had no one. He tried. Gods rest his soul, he tried everything he could think of, but the poison kept spreading. Eventually it consumed him, just as it consumes everything.’
Haster watched as the red veins pulsed with dark energy. Every part of me wanted to run and get away from it.
‘I don’t understand. Everything was fine before your family bought this land,’ I said.
‘Was it? No children vanishing in the night? No evil thoughts lurking in people’s minds? No rancid meat harvested from the creatures of the wood? It starts softly, quietly, seeping into the land and its people without them realising. My ancestors thought they could stop it before it got too bad. Your ancestors pinned the blame on us whilst making it worse.’
‘How dare you! My family have protected this town more than you ever have done!’ I shouted, refusing to lower my weapon.
‘Have you? What do you know of this?’ he gestured at the tear in the earth. ‘Those creatures you slay are filled with corruption. When you cut them, you release that corruption like a seed to sow the land. It was my family that burnt their bodies and salted the land. Can you feel it now? Can you feel how it hungers for us? It hungers for blood and sacrifice,’ Lord Haster pointed at the vicious gash in the world and I knew that I could feel it. Like a darkness tugging at my soul, urging me to pull the trigger. It was sucking at every negative thought I’d ever had, every angry moment, every ounce of fury and rage was being dragged to the surface. I swallowed hard in an attempt to contain it.
‘Why now? Why only say something now?’ I asked.
‘We tried. It twists everything it touches, even our own words. They could never believe us, they thought that they were right, your family thought they were doing the best thing. They weren’t prepared to listen, and my family didn’t try in the right ways either,’ Hadrian sighed.
Ever so slowly, I lowered the gun. The wound pulsed furiously.
‘How do we stop it?’ I whispered, not trusting my voice not to shake.
‘There is only one thing we can do. One last thing that we can try, but I need your help to do it.’ Haster produced two vials of silvery fluid. ‘My family succeeded multiple times at closing the portal, but every single time it opened again from the Other side. It needs to be closed from both sides at the same time. You will need to pull the edges together and then seal it with this from this side. I will go to the Other side.’
I took the vial and examined the liquid within.
‘Why me? What’s on the other side?’ I asked, although I feared the answer.
‘The darkness and corruption, it all spreads from there. No one has ever seen it and lived to tell the tale. My father stepped to the Other side when I was just a boy. He never came back. There are few who can withstand the corruption. You have proven yourself capable of resisting it many a time in the sickened woods. I was born with it in my veins. Eventually we will both succumb to it, far before age takes us, just as our ancestors succumbed before us. There is no one else I can ask. I can see the good within you. Please, help me to save this place.’
‘What if it can’t be sealed from that side?’ I wondered, stepping so close to the wound that the heat began to cause beads of sweat to form on my brow.
‘Then it will continue to spread until it consumes the whole world,’ Haster replied. ‘Right, give me a moment to get through and then-’
I never heard the rest of the sentence because I stepped through the wound. It was like breaking through a viscous membrane. I tumbled through into a humid world that was not our own. No sun hung in the sky, but a crimson light bathed everything in its glare. The ground was sodden, like a sponge full of water. A sticky substance seeped up through pores in the surface, it beaded, making it look like the ground was covered in millions of red eyes.
A creature stumbled towards me. It had two heads and the body parts of several different animals. Blood seeped through the places where the body parts merged. It squealed like a pig as it charged at me. I levelled my gun at it and fired. The boom echoed through the scarlet plains. Its body erupted in an explosion of gore that spattered the ground. At once the pieces began to be absorbed into the floor. In one place the ground began to bubble and boil as a new creature began to form.
I turned to face the portal with a sense of urgency. I could see Hadrian on the other side. His mouth was moving as he was shouting my name, but I couldn’t hear him. I took hold of either side of the portal. It burnt my hands to the touch. I ignored it and began to tug the edges together. It resisted as I pulled it. My flesh was stinging as I kept hold of it. On the other side I saw Hadrian begin to do the same. I breathed a sigh of relief. If this was even partially my fault, I wanted to fix it. It occurred to me that I should have apologised to Hadrian before I left. All he had ever tried to do was save us. Yet the town and my family most of all had tarnished the Haster name and stormed through life believing that we were right without ever asking why. I hoped my sacrifice would be enough.
I risked a glance over my shoulder. The creature behind me was growing legs and tails formed from the red goop of the earth. I tugged harder. The portal began to yield and shrink. Painfully slowly it reduced down to just a sliver of membrane. Looking back again, I could see the creature begin to grow teeth in its many mouths and claws upon its multiple fingers. I gave the portal edges one final yank. It stuck together, it wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. The ground had stopped bubbling and the new creature was taking its first gurgling breath.
I popped the cork off the vial and poured the liquid down the cut between worlds. It hissed and popped as it reacted with whatever the portal was made of. A thin smoke rose from it as the wound meshed together leaving nothing behind but a ruffled crimson surface. The portal was gone, and so was Hadrian, my home, and my only way out. I could only hope that that was enough. I couldn’t let these things or this place plague my world any longer. I levelled my gun at the creature as it roared its fury at me. It charged at me with mouths gnashing and claws glinting as scarlet lightning scored the sky. I fired and fired again until the place was awash with blood and gore.
Even if what my family had done had been a mistake, it had at least prepared me for this place. I would protect my world for as long as I could and make sure that the portal never opened again. One day I hoped that Haster Hill would be green again.
I'm Katy, but go by K H Simmons officially. I write a lot of sci-fi, dark fantasy and dystopian fiction. If you're here for sparkly vampires, you're in the wrong place ;)
I frequently post short stories on my Facebook page, as well as work on full length novels. If you want more short stories like the above - check out my anthology Death, Demons & Dystopia available on Amazon/Kindle. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07YN5DY98
When I'm not writing, I can usually be found cuddling dogs, reading, at the gym or playing video games.
