The bearded man had been wandering the woods for days. He was keenly aware of the hunger gnawing away at his stomach and the foul-tasting water he'd drunk from a nearby stream had done little to quench his thirst. He began to wonder if he should have just stayed put at the cabin. Surely it would have been easier for the authorities to locate him if he had stayed in one place.
The man was second guessing himself. He was not usually the kind of person to take action in this kind of situation--but he was tired of who he was. Things felt different now. He wanted to be proactive, to take control of his own destiny. If he reached the edge of the woods surely he'd be near a road. Roads led to people that could help him. He could call her and let her know he was okay. That was all he needed to do.
As soon as the thought had sprung to mind, he felt the trees around him thinning. He could just make out a clearing ahead of him--and unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, he could see a house as well. It was a squat, wide house with vinyl siding that had clearly seen better days.
Excited at the prospect of finding a sign of civilization, the man sped up despite the burning pain in his calves. Before he knew it, he had reached the house after crossing a small clearing. He circled around to the front side to find a very long driveway. He couldn't even see if it led to a main road, but he imagined it must. There was an ancient rusted truck that had obviously not been used in years. He guessed no one was home.
He clambered up a few steps to the porch anyway, rapping on the door a few times. If anyone had been home it would have surely disturbed them. Despite his better judgment, he tested the doorknob and found the door to be open. He cast a quick glance around him reflexively. There was no one there to see him. The house was seeming uninhabited. Surely there was no harm in looking inside.
As he stepped inside the small house, his senses were assailed by a dank, musty smell. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dramatic difference in light level compared to the outside world. He felt as if he was stepping into an underground cave. It took him some time before he could make out any details of the room he'd discovered.
It appeared to be a living room--or at least, it had once been. Various bits of paper, trash, and rat droppings littered the hardwood floor. An oversized plush couch was pressed against the far wall. It was heavily stained and smelled foul. A coffee table was shoved into a corner on his left, covered in old magazines, playing cards, and a dozen other things. An old-fashioned CRT television rested on a cart beside it, its cracked screen caked in layers of dust. Beyond that was a hallway that led to what he thought was a kitchen. As dreadful as the prospect of finding food in such a place sounded, he felt it might be an option worth investigating.
With great care, he tiptoed around the piles of gunk on the floor and made his way to the kitchen. The kitchen was in somewhat better shape but that wasn't saying much. The familiar whirr of a refrigerator running was absent--though the object in question was tucked into a nook between cabinets. It too was covered in dust. In spite of his reservations, he wrenched the puke green door open to find. . .nothing. There was nothing there.
He took some time to rifle through all the filthy cabinets in the kitchen, but each yielded absolutely nothing. This house had been well and truly abandoned. For what purpose he did not know. He felt depressed suddenly. He'd finally found a sign of civilization and it was this--an empty, abandoned house. With no food. As reluctant as he was to leave, he realized there was nothing for him there. He'd searched the kitchen top to bottom, and found nothing but dust, cobwebs, and more rat droppings.
As he was crossing the threshold to the house's porch, something caught his eye. In the living room there was another door. Curiosity getting the better of him, the man approached the door and tried the knob. It turned slightly and. . .it clicked. He wiggled it a bit, but the door would not budge. It was locked. Why would a door like this be locked in an abandoned house? He tried to make out something of the room through a crack in the door but it was no use. It was firmly locked.
He couldn't leave it like this. If it was locked, maybe there was something important back there. Something that could help him. The thought made little sense even to him, but he couldn't just abandon the prospect. As tired and hungry as he was, he felt suddenly consumed by a need to find out what was behind that door. He put some pressure on the door to test its strength. If the house had been unused for some time, perhaps it had begun to break down. With enough force he might be able to break down the door.
The door gave no sign of giving under the moderate amount of pressure he applied. He decided to throw his whole weight into a good shove. He did so, and felt the door creak slightly. Although it was a pain on his weary shoulders, he continued to shove. With great exertion, he put all of the force he could muster into a bodily shove until the door finally opened, showering splinters into the room. He fell forward due to the momentum and fell facefirst into blue carpeting.
He grunted irritably as he rose again to his feet, though he was thankful the room was not hardwood like the living room. He stepped all the way inside and surveyed his surroundings. It was slightly smaller than the entry room and had blue carpeting that appeared to have dulled with age. The room was cluttered with various odds and ends and everything, as usual, was covered in a fine layer of dust. A shabby white dresser took up one corner. Beside it was an entertainment center with its principal components missing. A mini-fridge was perched awkwardly atop it. He peered inside and again found nothing.
There were two windows in the room, just next to the entertainment center. The drapes were missing and the blinds were yellowed and falling apart. There was a flipped over office chair at the foot of the windows. Several of the wheels were missing. A sturdy oaken desk lay in the other corner just on the other side of the windows. Amidst a pile of smelly clothes and toppled speakers was a slender gray object. After drawing closer he identified it as a laptop--and on top was a squarish smartphone.
If the house had been abandoned, why would those who lived here abandon these things? Perhaps they had malfunctioned and they felt no need to take them with them. That made sense--but he felt the need to investigate them anyway. He picked up the phone and stared at the blank screen. It was dusty and slightly moist, but appeared otherwise undamaged. The phone itself was encased in a hard shell designed to protect it from the elements and accidents. He imagined it might work if he found a way to charge it. Figuring it might be useful later, he pocketed the phone.
Next, he investigated the laptop. He picked it up, shook some of the dust loose, and opened it up to take a look at the screen. It was in surprisingly good condition--but without electricity, he would not be able to turn it on. He gave it a try anyway, and was surprised when it hummed to life. If it still had power, then. . . He tried the phone as well, but it was no use. The phone was truly dead.
"There's a chance this phone still has service," he whispered to himself, his voice hoarse and unfamiliar sounding.
He turned off the laptop and closed the lid. If he could find a charging cable for this phone, he'd be able to charge it with the remaining energy of the laptop. He'd need to conserve the power until that point. With that, he began to investigate the rest of the room.
In the corner opposite the desk was a small bed, clearly designed for one person. It was draped in a ratty blanket. When he tossed it off the bed he caught sight of a spider scurrying to safety. Grimacing, he fought the urge to recoil in terror and examined the bedside table. Aside from a non functioning alarm clock, there was nothing there. He checked the cabinets in the entertainment center, but found nothing but speaker wire, old damp notebooks, and more spiders. The closet was full of yellowed books, old clothes, and totes full of old DVDs, video games, and memorabilia. He'd have to check somewhere else.
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