Yggdrasil Fallen, LitRPG Series
Book 1, Part 1: Obsidian
Chapter 2: Waves
Andres’ work van was the epitome of beat up, old and grungy. He had bought it second hand from another guy who had decided it was time to leave the county. Living that deep in the mountains was a rough way of life, just the cost of living alone was at a premium: from the absurd cost to even rent a place, much less afford groceries. Many people Andre knew worked two or even three jobs just to make ends meet, even he was considering working nights at the local bar to help ease the $1300 he paid monthly for the garbage hole he lived in. Not only that but between the heavy snow 8 months out of the year and the pushy/needy tourists through all the seasons left little time for actual enjoyment for those who called this place home and had left many “locals” worn down, tired and unable to tolerate the unendingly increasing waves of selfish, entitled party animals that ravaged the beauteous landscapes daily.
“Holy shit, gas is $5.49 a gallon now?! I really hope this job pays quick, not sure how long I’ll be able to go without pay” Andre moaned, as he hopped out at the local 7/11 to fuel up, at least a little bit, before turning onto the busy highway. The journey to the jobsite turned out to be longer than he’d originally anticipated: after he’d turned off the main highway onto the dusty back country roads Andre found himself frequently having to slow down to avoid wrecking on road wash boarding, or to swerve out of the way of over large potholes.
“For fucks sakes, they really need to do something about these roads! Not everyone can replace their shocks every 3 months.” He muttered to himself, as he swerved around yet another massive hole in the road. Ten minutes later Andre turned off the road and up a separate side road leading to steep, curving switch backs that snaked their way up the hillside. Looking down Andre was struck by a sudden, rather painful realization: his lunchbox was not nestled between the two cab seats.
“No lunch today I suppose, though I guess worse things have happened.” He groaned to himself. In the sleep deprived haze of the morning, Andre had once again lost track of time, to the point he now barely had enough time to make it to the jobsite ahead of his 8 AM deadline, much less have time to pack his usual Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, with the thermos of leftover coffee; if he had actually remembered to, that is
“Maybe Jeff will take pity and pass me a line ‘mistake’.” When he first moved to the area, Andre had picked up, what had started as part time, but quickly became 70+ hours a week working the brutally paced line at a local eatery. It was known not so much as a tourist spot, but a local’s favorite for breakfast and lunch. Jeff had been his brother in arms there from 4 am every day when they arrived to start prepping for their 6 am opening, to when they’d finally finish cleaning at 4. They had each-others back, slinging eggs, hashbrowns and all the breakfast staples most diners carried, as well as a few odd creations they’d put on the board for breakfast specials. While it had paid well, it was brutal work, but Andre loved the camaraderie, locker-room humor, and above all else, the free food.
“Those were the good days” Andre mused, climbing back into his van, “it’ll be nice to catch up, if it’s not too busy”. The eatery would be about a 25-minute drive from the work site, but Andre was more than willing to make it if there was free food, and a bit of catchup to be had.
“I guess well just have to see if it’s in the cards today!” He mused to himself, while only slightly daydreaming of thick, well-seasoned hamburger patties smothered in flattop seared mushrooms/onions with extra Swiss cheese and a healthy slathering of black pepper/truffle aioli. Wiping a small rivulet of drool from the corner of his mouth Andre felt is stomach rumble in response to his fantasized burger.
“Yeah… that’s definitely going to have to be a thing, gonna need an extra-large helping of those battered paprika garlic fries too… now how to get him to capitulate…”
5 minutes later as Andre took his 4th turn up the switchback he was beginning to wonder if his vehicle weighed down with all his tools would even make it up the last, steep incline. Though no sooner had he finished the thought did his vans roaring engine bring him to the top of the incline and the cabin appeared off in the distance, its backside butting right up against the cliff face and its front deck overhanging the mountainside opposite the switchback; supported by rotting timbers threatening to cave into the valley below, its roof and wall timbers in very much so the same state as its deck. Andre shuddered:
“Is this really the place? Who in their right mind would buy such a hellhole!”. There were no trucks in the circle drive as Andre pulled in. “It’s 8, and they’re not here?! What is wrong with Curt! Always with the rush rush rush, and fuck the small guy’s time,” He cursed to his steering wheel.
“Though, I did believe I was running late, so it’s probably a good thing they’re not sitting here waiting on me… Might as well check out the outside of this place, put together a load-in plan so I can get right to work after meeting this guy.” Andre grumbled as he climbed out of the cab.
From the drive, Andre could see there was a narrow deck that wrapped the entirety of the cabin from where the house met the cliff face, around to where the cabin itself overlooked the whole mountain valley. Besides the heavily decayed supports he could see several of the decking planks were either broken, rotted or missing entirely.
“Yeah, we’re not going to go that way” Andre laughed, looking out over the valley.
“But dayum, this place is huge, and this view really would be tough to beat!” From a distance, this seemingly small cabin in the woods had appeared to be an open flat, studio style cabin, but upon approach he realized there were several rooms and likely bathrooms with running water, but he’d have to check it out more thoroughly once he was inside.
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“Those blueprints really were very deceptive about just how massive this place actually is.” He thought to himself before turning his back and walking alongside the deck towards where the house met the cliff face. The early morning sun had been overcast by rapidly moving clouds, creating a resonating gloom and as Andre reached out to touch the cliff face, he found himself a bit startled.
“Its… warm?” he said to himself, touching the rock curiously. “It’s far too early for the sun to have warmed the rock after last nights frost… or is it? I don’t know, thermodynamics were never really my thing.” He muttered to himself while slowly shaking his head.
“Andre?” He had been so entranced by the warmth of the rock in the mornings gloom, he hadn’t noticed the large black truck coming down the drive behind him, nor had he noticed Curt climb out with a well-dressed man in tow. He started:
“Y..yeah? OH! Hey there Curt! How are you today?”
“Didn’t expect to see you here, I’m glad you took me so seriously.”
“Oh, I REALLY didn’t want to mess this one up, who’s the guy with you, that the homeowner?”
The gentlemen had stopped, halfway between the truck and the decaying house, staring intently at Andre.
“Yes, Andrew. You may call me Mr. Silderson” he began, with Curt almost visibly facepalming behind him.
“And you may call me Andre” he interjected, before the man could continue.
“Yes, Andre.” The man coldly replied. The cold silence that fell between them had an almost palpable air of defiance with neither man wanting to back down or break the uneasy introduction. Andre found himself rather shocked by his sudden emboldened mindset.
“What the hell’s wrong with me! I can’t afford to piss off this client and risk him firing me before the job has even begun! Andre panickily thought to himself.
“Let’s get inside this place and go over exactly what is expected so we can get this project rolling!” Curt spoke out, breaking the silence and thus, the tension.
“Very well. After you.” Mr. Silderson replied.
Opening the front door, and entering the well-aged log cabin, Andre felt his senses overwhelmed by the scent of must and mold; looking around everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, save for a couple sets of footprints that seemed to make a circuit down the hall to the left past the kitchen, into what appeared to be a bathroom, and back. The living room straight ahead from the front door appeared to have been the site of many a teenaged deep woods party, long since passed. What once been luxurious silk and velour curtains hung on sturdy cast iron hangings now flapped eerily, torn and tattered in the breeze of a now shattered large double paned window that reached almost to the ceiling; overlooking the valley and the river that snaked through it.
“Hell of a view, the vantage from the drive really does not do it justice.” Andre breathed to himself, taking in the magnificent valley, cast in low shadows from the local peaks the early morning sun. Andre could hear Curt and the homeowner talking in hushed tones behind him, likely going over exactly what needed to be done.
“Hey Curt, when’s the rolloff supposed to show up? I don’t want to leave scrap on these gorgeous natural hardwood floors if I don’t have to!” Andre called over his shoulder, grabbing the attention of the two men.
“Any time now, I called the lot on the way up to verify its delivery this morning and they were loading it up. Let’s get discussing exactl…” before he could even finish his sentence, Mr. Silderson cut in:
“Gut it all, we’re going to rework this building from the inside out, I want nothing left. Mold is a huge issue for my wife, and I don’t want to risk anything.” Curt, looking taken aback, speaking directly to Andre:
“You heard him, gut and dump job, how long do you think it will take you?”
Andre, looking thoughtfully around, “I didn’t see a basement on the blueprints, if the nice weather holds, and there are no major surprises, a couple of weeks? Did you want to keep any of the furniture?” Andre had been looking around at the ravaged, stained furniture in the living room, and only just noticed Mr. Silderson had been staring intently at him.
“No, toss it, burn it or donate it, just make it all go away. Don’t you think a week is too long for just demolition?”
Andre chuckled “Sir, I’m a one-man crew, if all goes well it may be a bit faster but 3 bedrooms, 2 baths, the kitchen and living room with a vaulted ceiling? That’s a huge amount of work, especially disposing of all the furniture. Looking at a couple days alone to break all that down and move it out. Luckily there are no appliances to deal with in the kitchen.” From the living room Andre could see there was a single pipe stove, with a wall of cupboards and a pantry.
“How old is this place anyways?” He continued.
Curt, who had been silent up until this moment spoke up “Our best guess has it around 200 years old, but it’s been abandoned so long, records got lost. Do you think if I pulled a couple guys to help you move out the old furniture, we could expedite things a bit?”
Andre Laughed again, “sure, but their pays coming out of your pocket.”
“Done, I’ll have them here by ten.” Curt already had his phone out to send out the help request texts to some laborers, Andre assumed were working nearby.
“Well, I guess I better get to it, unless there’s anything else you would like to discuss...?” Andre spoke to Mr. Silderson who had been quiet for a few moments, continuing to stare Andre down, his steely eyes cutting straight to his nerves,
“As a matter of fact, yes, while I’d like to see this demolition done in less than a week, I want you to take absolute care to be precise and do as little damage to the main structure of the building as possible, I’d hate to see someone so…. young… hurt by a falling timber from an improperly removed wall. Just stick to the blueprints and we shouldn’t have any… further… issues”. At the word young, a sickening smile crossed his face, stirring a deep sense of unease in the pit of Andres’ gut.
“I’ll be alright sir, these slat walls are usually just for privacy, not structure…” Andre squeaked out, his voice faltering to a high note much to his surprise.
“If that’s all, I’m going to grab some tools from my van and get started.” Curt nodded to Andre, while Mr. Silderson Continued his icy gaze: “Very Well.”
As Andre was turning to head out the door behind him, the sun pierced through a window in the room at the end of the hall to his left past the kitchen, settling on a wall that Andre recognized, it was shaped much like rounded waves lapping up on the oceans shore, vertically down the entire length of the wall. As the sun faded behind another cloud, casting the room back to shadow, Andre felt an uneasy anxiety rise in his chest, a trepidation about that room.
“I’m really not looking forwards to dealing with that wall, there has to be all kinds of absurd construction behind it.” He mumbled to himself as he opened the front door and stepped out into the still lightly chilled air of the morning. Taking a deep breath Andre steeled his nerves and focused his mind to the monumental task that had been set before him.
“It seems as though I didn’t piss him off enough to want to fire me, plus with this timeline I should be able to pay rent with plenty of cushion to spare.” He thought happily to himself as he hopped down the steps towards his van completely unaware that the frigid, calculating eyes of Mr. Silderson were watching his every move.