Chapter Text
Rain was pouring down when Noelle stepped off the train at the Arkham station on Northside. She had spent the trip with her head leaning against the window, staring at the droplets to try and distract herself from her nervosity. Nozel would have said that she was slouching and prompted her to sit straight. But Nozel was never on the train with her.
Nozel, Nebra, and Solid— Noelle’s siblings— had remained in Arkham, their hometown, while Noelle had been shipped away to a boarding school on the other side of Massachusetts. At times, guilt settled when she realized she preferred the dormitories to her own home, but she couldn’t help how she felt. The friends she had made there felt more like family than her own siblings. She had also spent more time with the likes of Asta, Secré, or Yuno than her siblings.
The boarding school was open all year round, even at Christmas or in summer (there were summer classes that Noelle was more than happy to take: fewer classes, more outside activities, and Asta stayed over in summer as well). But now that she was 18 and had graduated, her last summer away from ‘home’ was over. She had to come back to Arkham and face her siblings once more.
So, Noelle waited for a taxi, shivering under the dripping wooden shelter. The walk to where the Silva house stood wasn’t too long, but Noelle wouldn’t walk under that rain. She would arrive soaked and she had to be a Silva here; it meant remembering the manners she had been taught.
Well. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t getting wet at the moment. The shelter was hardly of any use: it didn’t shelter her from the wind and rain still seeped through the roof planks.
Finally, a taxi driver stopped by and took her luggage. It was a closed car and Noelle could stop getting drenched. She’d take a warm bath in one of the Silva Mansion’s ridiculous bathrooms. It would be a nice change from the common baths and showers. That was one thing to look forward to.
But that was about it.
“Where to, missy?”
Noelle caught the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror and looked out the window.
“Silva Estate.”
There was no need to say more. Everybody knew where the Silva residence was. Inaccessible to the common people, it stood menacingly at the top of a hill, peering over Arkham in a show of superiority. Noelle didn’t remember leaving that manor longer than necessary either. It was embarrassing to know her hometown so little.
The car rumbled and started moving. Noelle stared distractedly at landscapes, streets and roads that she should have explored as a child but felt foreign to her. She only knew the road from the station to the mansion. The hammering of the rain was annoying.
The truth was: as much as she was trying to feel annoyed, she mostly felt anxious. She hadn’t seen her siblings in years and she felt like… so much had happened since the last time she took that train to Arkham. Noelle felt like she had grown. She was 18 now, and if she still didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life, at least she knew it was her decision to make. Nozel hardly ever called. Solid and Nebra even less. Noelle was all alone in this world, but it felt less scary now. Maybe because she had other people at her side, her classmates, her roommates, who were also all alone in the world.
Thank god for the postal service.
“Bad weather, huh?”
Noelle didn’t want to talk about the weather, but she still decided to humor the driver.
“Always, in Arkham.”
The driver guffawed. In the mirror, Noelle caught a glimpse of a fake gold tooth. It glinted at her, prompting her to look back at the window again.
It wasn’t untrue, though. On the rare occasions Noelle had to come back (usually for funerals— nothing else seemed to require her presence, if funerals did at all), it rained. Always rain or terrible storms. The pressure was always... unbearable. The weather was absolutely terrible, and the worst was that it always happened when Noelle visited. Her luck, truly.
But then again, she had never been a lucky person.
Noelle wasn’t surprised when the only person who greeted her upon her arrival was their butler, Ernest. She sent for a bath and settled back into what the servants called her bedroom but was just one they prepared on the rare occasions there was a fourth Silva sibling in that mansion.
After a relaxing bath, Noelle explored the mansion a little. It always felt like a forbidden pleasure to roam those halls. They weren’t hers and the reason was…
Noelle slowly walked down the corridor where she knew she would end up at. Up until now, she had only roamed aimlessly, delaying the inevitable. And here it was. The inevitable.
“Hello, mother.”
The painting did not reply. Her mother only smiled back at her kindly, as if she had answers but chose not to tell Noelle any. A fresh bouquet was sitting in front of the painting, in the same vase. It was comforting, in a way.
Noelle hadn’t known her mother. She hadn’t had the opportunity to meet her. Acier Silva, esteemed scholar, had fallen ill and died shortly after her birth. Noelle had spent so much time in front of that painting, hoping to get one more piece to a puzzle she could never complete. The staff always said Noelle looked like her. Solid shrugged, Nebra disagreed, and Nozel kept quiet. Deep down, Noelle hoped the servants were right.
The woman in the painting looked wonderful. And she had been. A fantastic researcher at Miskatonic University, respected by her peers, and always so helpful with her students. Nozel had followed in her footsteps. Noelle knew he wouldn’t be back from the university before it was time for dinner.
She tried not to think about dinner.
Why was she so anxious at seeing her siblings again?
Well. The last time had been five years ago, when an… incident had forced every boarding student to be sent back to their families or, in the orphans’ case, neighboring churches. It hadn’t exactly gone well. Most of the time, Noelle could stay locked up in her room, but dinners… she had to come out of it. Solid was always mean to her and Nebra had always the harshest words for her. And Nozel, well… Nozel avoided her. He wouldn’t even look at her.
And after that, well… Her oldest brother had put her on a train once more and sent her away. Often, Noelle wondered if it would all have been different had their mother still been with them.
But there was no use in asking a painting.
*
To say that the tension was palpable in the dining room would have been a euphemism.
Noelle had come down first because as much as she didn’t want to have dinner with her siblings, she also knew being late was bad manners. The vast dining room had been empty when she arrived, so she had taken a seat and waited.
Solid showed up first, and Noelle frowned at how her slightly-older-than-she-remembered brother’s appearance. There were bandaids on his face and he looked like he had just gotten out of a fight. Specks of dried blood were visible near his ear and his cheek was visibly swollen.
Noelle knew better than to ask.
Solid had always been keen on fighting. Noelle… knew that well. They had battled often when they were younger. At the slightest inconvenience, Solid would throw a tantrum and launch at her. Nebra, if she was in the room, found it hilarious. It usually took Nozel to arrive for the fight to break, and even then, Nozel didn’t want to hear who had started it: both were guilty. He always scolded them briefly before leaving. Nozel never stayed long. Nor did he say any word more than the bare minimum.
“You’re here?” Solid asked, his voice closer to annoyance and irritation than anger.
Noelle only nodded. Solid glanced at the servants before sitting at the table. As they waited, he started playing with the silverware, skilfully spinning his knife between his fingers.
Then, the front door opened, and hurried heeled steps drew closer to the dining room. Nebra stopped dead in her tracks when she finally arrived, the pearls from her necklace clinking against one another.
“I’m not late?” Nebra said, out of breath, as she caught herself against the wooden archway frame. Solid and Noelle stared back at her and she threw her hands in the air before moving to her chair. “I could’ve stayed out longer…”
Nebra dramatically plopped on the chair next to Solid’s. He coughed and got away from her, “You reek.”
“Hey! Watch what you say to your sister! Also: I don’t ‘reek’. That’s for the poor. And what’s with your face? It’s uglier.”
“Ah, shut up!” Solid snapped back. “Were you drinking again?”
“I,” Nebra said, suddenly sitting primly, “wasn’t drinking. I’m a respectable member of society. And for the record, alcohol consumption isn’t prohibited.”
Solid rolled his eyes but said nothing. Noelle concluded that her sister was definitely tipsy, if not drunk.
Then, Nebra seemed to notice Noelle. Her eyes widened in what could only be surprise and a hint of something else. She was about to speak when the dining room door opened and Nozel quickly made his way to the table. On instinct, all three younger siblings stiffened and sat straighter in their chairs.
“Good evening,” Nozel said.
They chorused it back. Nozel glanced at Noelle and for a second, the youngest thought she saw his eyes widen in surprise. Did no one in this house remember Noelle was coming back today? Nozel’s surprise was short-lived: he immediately sat down and ordered the staff to send in their food and then leave them alone. They did so.
For minutes on end, nothing could be heard in the dining room except the grandfather’s clock, the creaking of wood in the fireplace, and the wind howling outside. Even the occasional clatter of silverware seemed muffled, like heard from underwater. Noelle always wondered if dinner was like this even when she wasn’t here. Did they stay silent because she was an outsider? She had never wanted to be.
Suddenly, the howling got louder, knocking and scratching at the window like a creature that wanted in. Time stopped for a second and Noelle started feeling uneasy. She had never been fond of storms, and even as a young adult, particularly strong storms scared her.
Nebra snickered. She looked up at Noelle, and the younger sister recognized the mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Did you bring the bad weather again?” Nebra taunted.
Noelle didn’t reply, but as she glanced outside the window, she realized that the night was dark, and the streetlight’s candles kept flickering.
Nebra leaned back in her chair, looking deep in thought. Looking was all she always did. She was a performer and had she had the work ethic that came with it, Noelle thought her older sister could have been quite the actress.
“Or maybe it’s not you…” Nebra said, tapping her lower lip with her index finger. She stopped and looked up, a small smirk on her lips. “Something strange is happening in Arkham…”
Noelle frowned and unknowingly held onto her knife and fork harder. When they were younger, Nebra would tell Noelle blood-curdling stories about monsters that lurked in Arkham or people driven to insanity. Noelle had been terrified and had even lost sleep over these stories for weeks at times. Most of those tales weren’t even that scary, but the way Nebra told them… they felt real. But Noelle was older now. She would not be scared of mere tales. Not when reality was far worse.
Solid crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, unimpressed. “Yeah, Nebra. We’ve heard all your tales of monsters and madness before.”
Nebra’s smile widened. “But this one is different,” she insisted. “Just today. This afternoon, even. A man was driven to madness… he started rambling… crossed all of Arkham, barefoot… no one could stop him… and then threw himself on the railways. Death was immediate. They say there was blood everywhere and some of his organs clung to the train windows.”
“God, Nebra,” Solid said. “I’m eating!”
Nebra paid no mind to her brother’s remark. Her eyes rolled to Noelle and she smirked. “There’s nothing you can do once madness takes its hold on you. Weren’t you… at this exact train station just earlier, Noelle? Could’ve been you.”
Noelle shivered. She knew very well that Nebra was talking about the train station expressly to scare her. But she couldn’t help it. Had she not noticed anything? The train station was always sad. Terribly cold. And the wind… the wind always felt like it was about to blow the roof off.
“Is that true?” Solid asked Nozel. “Someone jumped on the railways?”
Nozel finished his bite before raising his cold eyes at his siblings.
“Yes,” Nozel said. “It’s regrettable. He worked at the university. We were notified right before I left.”
Noelle started to feel uneasy. Nebra’s tales were fine as long as they were just that. Tales. But Nozel confirming that a man had lost his life made the story more terrible than scary. It was a well-known trick, but from the look on Nebra’s face, she hadn’t known it was true. She even backed away a little.
“I’ve also heard,” Nebra said, her voice hardly shaken by Nozel’s revelation, “that the tramp was admitted into Arkham’s Asylum tonight… He went mad, claiming he was possessed by an ancient god that he had to serve… they found him wandering the streets, muttering in a language no one could understand… They say that his eyes were wild… seeing what could not be seen…”
“You can’t scare me with those stories anymore,” Noelle said. “I know they’re not true.”
Nebra kept smiling defiantly at her, her cat-like eyes focused on Noelle like Noelle was a mouse and Nebra about to pounce. Then her sister let out a small snicker before drawing back and resuming her meal.
“Is that the tramp on Main Street?” Solid asked. “I didn’t see him when I went home.”
“That will be him and that’s because I’m telling the truth,” Nebra said. She finished cutting her steak and looked up. Noelle couldn’t help but notice how she glanced at her. She was still dead set on scaring Noelle, wasn’t she? “And you know what?—”
“Is that all you do with your day?” Nozel asked dryly. “Listen to gossip and midwives’ tales?”
Nebra lost her smug expression in an instant. Nozel’s reprimands were cutting to the soul, and it showed on Nebra’s face. Noelle would have almost felt bad for her. Almost. She was more than happy her sister had stopped telling her scary stories.
Noelle looked up at their oldest brother. Nozel didn’t look amused, not even for a second. For a second, Noelle wondered if he knew the man from the train well, or if he was simply annoyed at Nebra. Noelle couldn’t tell. She didn’t know her brother well enough to.
“Anyway,” Nebra said, flicking her hand in the air before picking up her cutlery once more. “It’s only gossip.”
Noelle hoped it was. She could already feel a headache coming on, and she intended to sleep tonight.
*
Quiet.
Quiet, at last.
Nozel sat in his room, listening to the storm outside. He felt uneasy, restless— as often when his routine was disturbed— but it was worse this time.
Occasional thunderbolts lit up his room, casting eerie shadows on the tired wooden floor. The rain hammering at the window and the howling wind was preferable to the oppressive atmosphere from dinner.
Nozel didn’t like family dinners. Mostly because only one question always bumped around in his mind.
What did I do wrong?
Seeing Noelle again after so many years had stirred emotions he thought were buried deep. She had grown, undoubtedly, but what used to be a passing resemblance, a vague feeling and impression was now a blatant slap in the face. Noelle looked like their mother. She felt like her too in ways Nozel wished she didn’t. And Nozel coudln’t help but feel like he was about to see the same haunting eyes that had watched him as she took her last breath. Guilt gnawed at him, slow and tortuous, a million little teeth ready to bite at any given moment.
Eighteen years… It wasn’t grief. He could have dealt with grief. It was much worse than that.
Nebra’s rumors echoed in his mind. That man who had killed himself… Nozel didn’t know him well. He worked at Miskatonic as a night warden. His name and occupation was the extent of Nozel’s acquaintance with that man. And yet, something felt wrong.
Or maybe he was simply being paranoid. Yes, of course. And since sleep wasn’t going to come… Nozel needed to escape. As always, he knew he would find some sort of solace in his work.
He rose from his chair and the floorboards creaked under his weight. It was a comforting sound to him, reminding him that he was right here, right now, and that no matter what, the floorboards would creak.
He found himself in front of his mother’s old office before he realized where he was going. Acier Silva’s office had been… locked away. Forgotten. Nozel had forbidden his siblings to go in and eventually forbade the servants the same. Only Nozel had the key now. Since when was the key in his hand? Had he planned to come here? His office was in another corridor entirely, but now that he stood in front of the wooden door, there was a pull he couldn’t place.
Nozel’s hand trembled as he inserted the key and turned it. The clicking sound felt like a tolling bell. Nozel looked left and right. The corridor was empty. Deadly silent. As he stared at the dark, empty corridors, Nozel knew he was only delaying the inevitable. After taking a deep breath, Nozel turned the knob and the heavy wooden door groaned in protest.
The room… was just as he remembered, only a little dustier. Cobwebs hung here and there, bridging gaps between the high bookcases and the refined mahogany desk. The air was thick, musty. The room felt dead. Decaying, decomposing. Many years had passed— eighteen years— and Nozel still couldn’t understand how the world kept turning without her. He felt a shiver run down his spine and turned back to face the door, to make sure it was still there.
It was. He could run away if needed. (Why would he need to?)
As Nozel stepped inside, a wave of emotions crashed over him. Anger, guilt, sorrow. All of them and many more at the same time. He clenched his fists, trying to regain control, but it was useless. The creaking floorboards under his feet felt unnatural. Different. The room felt alive, pulsing and shifting, turning… The walls narrowed around him and the storm outside raged harder.
In a fit of rage, Nozel turned to leave, but his foot caught on the edge of the carpet. He stumbled and dropped with a heavy thud.
Nozel cursed under his breath. When he looked up, he realized the room was the same. Silent. Quiet. Why. Why did he let himself be so… pathetic?
There was a reason why this room had been locked away.
Scrambling to get up, Nozel noticed something odd. Underneath the carpet was a loose plank of wood. Beneath the plank lay an old journal whose leather cover was worn out by the years, and maybe something more. Nozel was certain he had never seen his mother with that journal. A former professor like he was, Acier Silva was always with books and journals but this one… Nozel caressed the worn out leather cover, his fingers feeling the strange symbol on the cover.
It was wrong. It was something he shouldn’t do. The journal pulsed under his fingers with an energy Nozel was all too familiar with. But it was his mother’s. He had to see for himself what was inside. Nozel’s fingers trembled as he opened the journal. Sure enough, the pages were filled with his mother’s handwriting. Nozel skimmed over the texts and a chill settled over him.
Dark forces. Forbidden knowledge.
He dropped the journal like it was hot iron and backed away. His breathing was ragged, his pulse hammering in his ears. Could this have been..?
He couldn’t leave it to chance. He had to know.
Nozel picked up the journal and sat at his mother’s desk, reading.
By the time dawn pierced the darkness, Nozel felt hollow. Haunted. Memories danced around him like eerie, troubling shadows, and when the candle finally ran out, he pushed himself off the desk chair and stumbled back to his room, the journal tightly clutched in his hand.
The walls mocked him. The creaking wood planks felt like giggles.
Everything felt wrong.
Nozel dropped on the bed like he was made of lead and as he lay in bed, he wondered.
Is it happening all over again?