Wild

chapter 8

George yawned tiredly, stumbling into the kitchen like a zombie. He could see the first rays of sunlight filtering in through his living room window. Normally he would consider it a crime to wake up this early, but you couldn't wake up early when you didn't go to sleep. All night he had laid in bed, twisting and turning trying to get his mind to shut off just for a few hours. But every time he thought he was finally slipping off into the welcome darkness he would see that mask again, see the shock written clearly on the other person's body. He couldn't see his eyes but he was sure they made eye contact
He remembered being frozen in place by the stare, finally having some kind of interaction with the small being. That was until his hand slipped just a bit from where it pressed into the couch, holding him up. That seemed to be enough for the small man to feel he had to run, for he turned around and disappeared in the blink of an eye. Of course now that George saw it happen he figured out how he kept himself from getting spotted. He was in the walls, with hidden doors probably everywhere.

The only two he could really confirm besides the one he just saw were one somewhere in the kitchen and the one under his bed. Those were the places he saw the shoe prints so there must be an entrance nearby. But even if he did find the secret doors he couldn't open them, he'd already tried with the cabinet one. He could just barely see a notch in the wall that would allow you to pull open the door, but it was too small for him to open. Even with a needle he pulled out of storage, the door was too damn small.

Surprisingly the wall thing didn't bother him too much, it made sense with how small they were. The thing that did make him question everything about the house was who made the entrances? There was no way the small person he saw in the field made them, he'd just gotten here like two days ago. That had to mean someone else lived here that built them, which meant this small man wasn't one of a kind.

That was the main conclusion he had gotten too during his sleepless night, but that unfortunately brought up even more questions. If the other wasn't one of a kind then why was he alone? George couldn't imagine they would be overly independent people, the world would be hard enough in a group let alone by yourself. But he found him in a field, with no other little people in sight. George had been trying to cast his memory back for any more details that would help, but nothing helpful came up. During the small glimpse he'd gotten of him, he wore a brown bag over his back and what looked like a fishhook on his belt. George hadn't really been focused on that back then but it seemed a bit more important now. What with how he saw the other use it on the table.

He had only opened his eyes once he had heard movement right next to him, where he left the mask. But by the time he turned to look at him he was already running, going to the metal hook secured in the wood of the table. He had watched amazed as the small man grabbed the rope and slid down with no hesitation. But he didn't miss how the rope must have burned his hands with how fast he slid down. He didn't stop at the pain though, just flicking the hook free and catching it before running again. And from there it was history, when the man disappeared into the walls.

George tiredly got tea and a mug from the cupboard, maybe the hot drink would ease his mind just a bit. He got to work making it, using the furnace built into the wall to heat the water. He leaned against the counter while his water heated, thinking about his conclusion from last night. There must have been other small people living in this house at some point, someone to make the entrances. If so then where are they? George barely knew anything about the houses past, he had only been living here for about a year. The previous owners didn't even talk to him when he bought it, having already moved far away.

George frowned trying to think of somewhere he could answer his questions. Maybe he could head into town and find the library, he had only been there a few times but maybe the ancient place would have a bit of history on this place. Or even better, some history of small people. George nodded to himself, taking his water out of the furnace and pouring it into a cup, he would visit the library right after he woke up properly with some tea.