The child rubbed her eyes and wondered if something was wrong with them. Just a minute ago she was napping on grassy fields under a clear blue sky next to her grandpa and now the sky was red and the clouds were dark. Strange. She flung herself upwards and hopped onto her feet. She patted the dust off her clothes, bits of rock fell and bounced on the stony road. No wonder her back hurt.
She looked around and found herself surrounded by trees bare without any leaves. Dark trunks with darker branches jagged into the air loomed over her, casting evenly spaced shadows that stood still in an otherwise empty road. The road in front of her stretched into the distance seemingly endlessly, just like the forest behind her where trees merged with the shadow into a shadowy abyss.
She pondered for a minute and scratched the itch on her nose. If unsure what to do in life, one should always move forward. Since she was facing beyond the horizon, she decided to follow the road instead of heading into the forest.
Nodding at her decision, she walked down the road with a faint smile and her small steps turned into skips.
Then they turned back into small steps.
She was bored. There was nothing interesting. The same unchanging clouds stayed unmoved from their spot in the dull red sky. The trees were nearly identical and spaced evenly, growing smaller with every row planted further into the distance. The novelty of adventure in a strange new world quickly dried up with each passing minute when the new world was just a darker shade of sundown. It was just not interesting. Trying to untangle her messy hair was more interesting at this point.
With an inaudible sigh she continued forward, hoping that she would eventually find something fun. Soon enough, on the verge of switching course, something caught her eye in the distance, a batch of brightness among the gloom and doom.
She hurried towards the interesting punctuation of her walk. It was a small bed of white flowers all alone in a hue of oppressive red. The petals were snow white with a brighter glow and was supported by a healthy green of lush stems and crisp leaves. The wind caressed its fragile petals and the flowers waved at her, seemingly happy to be able to greet someone in its lonely existence.
Wasn’t it sad to have something so pretty be all alone in such a depressing place? Grandpa would’ve loved them. She should grab some for him.
“I wouldn’t advise doing that, little one,” said a voice.
The girl turned around and a figure with a white mask towered before her. His voice was a solemness hidden behind a deep echo, and she wouldn’t have been able to tell he was a man if not for that as his appearance revealed little. He wore a top hat and was covered from head to toe in darkness, his long coat draped into the ground and melded into the shade he cast. The man and his shadow were one. A mask covered his face, blank and void of any decoration aside from the faint smile coated in purple.
“What is your name, little one,” he asked as he leaned forward, observing her through the shadows of the thin slits of the mask.
Grandpa once said to never talk to strangers and people who looked suspicious. Since the girl didn’t know who he was and couldn’t think of anything more suspicious than a shadowy figure wandering alone in these strange woods, she should probably walk away from the weird masked figure. It also wasn’t like she could talk anyway.
With a chuckle, the man stood back and introduced himself.
“I am the Count” he said and bowed slightly. “I am also the lord of this humble manor you wandered into.”
The Count, not count something?
“Just the Count, that is my name,” he replied and tipped his hat a little.
The girl knew that people sometimes referred to others as their titles, but she hadn’t met anyone who had a name that was just a title. She thought it was confusing. Wouldn’t it create problems if an actual count showed up?
“The only count in these lands would be me.”
So the Count must be someone important. Maybe he could tell her where she was and help her find her way home. She smiled and opened her mouth but froze in the process. Wait a minute, did he read her mind? That shouldn’t be possible, right?
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“Of course not, that would be absurd.”
The girl looked up, her mouth agape and eyes wide open. The Count read her thoughts! She mustered her angriest looking glare and pointed a finger at him accusingly. It was an invasion of privacy, a breach of human rights! Where was the international tribunal for crimes against humanity?
This was bad. She had many secrets she didn’t want found out, such as where she hid the dishes she broke, that one time she accidentally threw away her older sister’s bottle cap collection, or that she still pretended to be a magical princess in front of the mirror. She had so many embarrassing moments and she needed to protect them from being known at all cost.
The girl held up her fist, remembering the boxers she saw on television and hopped in a circle around the Count.
“Fear not, little one,” the Count cooed. “I cannot read minds nor search your memory. What just happened, though rare, is just a telepathic communication between you and I. I cannot know of what you think unless you want me to.”
The Count knelt down and faced her at her height.
The girl dropped her fists and eyed the count suspiciously. She circled the man and rubbed her chin as she looked him up and down. She tried to read him, to see if the Count was lying, but with the mask on it was impossible. It would’ve been better if he took it off.
“Are you sure, little one? It is a secret only few know of. It is a secret that invites madness.”
She crossed her arm and nodded. Of course she was sure. If the Count was honest he had no reason to hide behind a mask. As of now, she knew nothing of him except he said he owned this place and could sort of read minds.
With a sigh, the Count reached for his mask with his lanky arms and placed his sharp fingers across the pale mask. After a moment’s hesitation, he took it off, revealing nothing but a smokey darkness.
“Surprised, little one?”
The girl stared deep into the darkness, like smoke, blackening the air it smouldered as its tendrils reached out, seeking something, anything. It was not something meant to be understood. Any attempt to examine it, even if it brushed past the farthest edges of your vision, is an invitation for it to visit you.
So there was really no point in thinking too hard about it.
She was rather underwhelmed. The Count was a demon of some sort, big deal. She could’ve guessed it by herself. It would be more surprising if such a creepy place wasn't ran by a demon or monster. It would’ve been slightly more fun if the Count had big horns or sharp teeth, an appearance she could ogle at. What is fun staring at smoke?
Still, the Count did share his secret with her and her Grandpa once said that only friends shared secrets with each other.
The Count looked at her, or at least that was what she felt, and was waiting for a response. She was in a strange place with nowhere else to go. She knew no one else and had nothing to help her out. Making friends with someone as important sounding as the Count seemed like a good idea. Did the Count want to be friend with her though?
The girl extended her small hand and waved it up and down, beckoning the Count to take it. He stiffened for a brief moment before what felt like raising an eyebrow and shook her hand. His hands were cold and ethereal, like a mist that brushed at her hand.
“If that is what you wish, little one.”
The Count shook her hand and shared a secret of his. Since they were not friends, she should do the same. The girl placed her hands on the side of her waist and puffed out her chest, preparing to introduce herself and her secret.
Her name was Nemo and she had no idea where she was.
The Count fastened his mask bowed. He then stood up and flung his coat outward, causing it to flutter was he motioned the dark crimson sky with one arm. Nemo felt a smile creep up his face, a real one that lay hidden under the perpetual grin of the mask.
“Greetings, Nemo. Welcome to my manor!” The Count bellowed. His heartfelt laughter reverberated under his mask and echoed into the sky.
Nemo couldn’t help but smile as she was emboldened by the Count’s infectious joy. This strange place might be fun after all. She cannot wait to tell Grandpa about it.