Rule of Rain, Chapter 1: Unlucky
Once upon a time, there was an unlucky girl, who had been plagued by misfortune her entire life.
Late one evening, as she was walking home from another miserable failure of a date, she came across a young boy, crying by himself in the notoriously unkempt yard of the House of Fallen Trees.
Though his back was the only thing clearly visible to her, she couldn't help but muse to herself that there was something familiar about the child.
She also couldn't help but think that the youngest member of the family who owned the house was nearly a high school graduate - much too old to be the crying boy inside the gate.
"Pardon me," she called, stepping closer to the gate in an effort to get a better view of the boy's face. "Are you lost?"
Unexpectedly, the boy stopped crying and ran away, deeper into the darkness of the backyard.
"The only one lost here is you, Rainy," he yelled back over his shoulder before ducking behind a cluster of ragged bushes.
With a shrill, mechanical shriek, the gate swung open to admit her.
The boy's voice echoed in her head.
rainyrainyrainy.
But nobody called her that anymore.
"Wait!" She called after the boy, who had already dissolved into the shadows. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"
The little boy did not answer; he was already gone.
Driven always by her insatiable curiosity, the unlucky girl allowed herself to take a few steps into the yard, hoping to catch a glimpse of the little boy who'd called her name.
Just a couple of feet, she promised herself. Just enough for me to see better. Then I'll leave, go home, get some ice cream, and forget about this whole night.
The gate slammed shut behind her with an metallic click that made her blood freeze in her veins.
Even pulling and shaking with all her strength, the gate wouldn't budge.
The unlucky girl was trapped inside.
She knew she'd better find another way out, and with a distressing lack of options...
The unlucky girl reluctantly began to follow the boy's footsteps down the overgrown path.
At the end of the path, surrounded by weeds and shrubbery, stood an old, rickety shed.
Maybe there's something in there I can use to get the gate open, she thought hopefully.
The shed contained only an old, rust and dirt encrusted typewriter, and various gardening supplies.
Something was stuck in the typewriter.
The paper smelled faintly of perfume.
"Are you lost, miss?"
A strange woman had entered the shed without the door hinges so much as making a squeak to announce her.
"Oh, God, please don't be upset," the unlucky girl cried. "I can explain this!"
The strange woman smiled wearily. "The gate locked behind you, didn't it?"
The unlucky girl was so relieved that she could only nod mutely.
"It does that, sometimes," the woman said. "My name is Jennail. This is my mother's house. You shouldn't be here, but I guess that can't be helped now." She paused for a moment, as if to consider her next words. Finally, she nodded to herself. "Come inside, and I'll get you the gate key."
They walked to the house in silence, the woman walking slightly ahead, clearly unperturbed by the constant cries of crickets and owls.
"Please, wait here. I'll go get the keys to the gate."
Rainelle's eyes swept the kitchen, taking in her surroundings. Her gaze landed on a nightmarish heap of taxidermy.
"Oh, is that your dog?"
Was, she corrected herself mentally, hoping the woman wouldn't notice she'd misspoken.
"Oh, yes, my darling Onyx. He's around here somewhere."
"Oh," Rainelle said, softly, unsure how else to respond. "Okay."
The cabinet was bare, except for a gun and a stuffed toy.
The display made her nervous.
Several minutes went by, and Jennail did not return with the keys.
The unlucky girl became anxious, wondering what was taking so long.
She tip-toed across the kitchen to the door frame and peeked into the living room, hoping to find the woman coming down the stairs, keys in hand.
The living room was silent and empty.
The unlucky girl was all alone.