The Unsettling Town

Chapter 7: The Unsettling Town

Pluton and Davie arrived at the town adjacent to the mysterious mansion, expecting to find a sense of unease and fear lingering in the air. Instead, they were met with an eerie sense of normalcy. The town seemed to be thriving, with people going about their daily business without a care in the world.

The town was picturesque, with cobblestone streets lined with well-maintained buildings. The architecture was a blend of mid-century elegance and rustic charm, with brick facades and ornate wrought iron railings. Flower boxes overflowed with vibrant blooms, and the sweet scent of lavender wafted through the air. The townspeople were dressed in modest yet stylish clothing, and their faces bore expressions of contentment and tranquility.

As they rode through the town, Pluton couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease. The buildings were immaculate, the streets were pristine, and the atmosphere was serene. It was as if the town was trying to hide something, but Pluton couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

"Hey, Davie, do you notice something off?" Pluton asked, his voice low and concerned.

Davie looked around, his eyes scanning the streets. "Now that you mention it, yeah, this does seem a bit strange. I expected the town to be a bit more... downbeat, considering the rumors we've heard."

Pluton nodded in agreement. "Exactly! It's like they're trying to hide something. But what?"

Davie chuckled. "Maybe we got pranked, and the crew is going to pop out and shout 'Surprise!' or something."

Pluton raised an eyebrow. "You think this is a joke?"

Davie shrugged. "I'm just saying, it's weird. But hey, let's ask around and see what we can find out."

They dismounted their horses and began to ask the townspeople about the strange occurrences. Pluton and Davie, clad in their mid-century attire, looked like they had stepped out of a different world. Pluton wore a tailored gray suit with a double-breasted jacket, a crisp white shirt, and a black tie. A flat cap sat snugly on his head, casting a shadow over his piercing blue eyes. His polished black leather shoes clicked against the cobblestones as he walked. Davie, on the other hand, wore a dark brown suit with a matching vest, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His suspenders and newsboy cap completed his ensemble, giving him an air of casual sophistication.

As they approached a group of townspeople gathered near a market stall, Pluton cleared his throat. "Excuse me, we're new in town and were wondering if you've noticed anything unusual happening around here lately."

The townspeople exchanged puzzled glances before a middle-aged woman with a kind face spoke up. "Unusual? No, not at all. Everything here is just as it always has been."

A young man chimed in, "Yes, nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual hustle and bustle."

Pluton frowned. "Really? We heard some rumors about strange occurrences in the area."

The woman laughed lightly. "Rumors, you say? People love to gossip, don't they? But I assure you, there's nothing strange happening here."

Davie joined in the conversation. "What about the mansion nearby? Have you heard anything about that place?"

The townspeople's expressions remained neutral, though a few exchanged subtle glances. "The mansion?" the young man said. "It's just an old building. Nothing special about it."

Pluton and Davie thanked them and moved on, but the answers left them more puzzled than before. The townspeople seemed genuinely unaware of any problems. They answered their questions with a nonchalant air, without any hint of suspicion or deceit.

As they continued to ask around, Pluton and Davie began to feel a sense of unease. Something was off, but they couldn't quite put their finger on what it was.

They approached an elderly man sitting on a bench, whittling a piece of wood. His weathered face bore a lifetime of stories, and his eyes held a glint of wisdom. Pluton greeted him with a respectful nod. "Good afternoon, sir. We were wondering if you could tell us anything about the mansion nearby. Have you heard any strange stories about it?"

The old man paused his whittling and looked up at them with a thoughtful expression. "The mansion, you say? Well, it's been there for as long as I can remember. Used to belong to a wealthy family, but they moved away years ago. Now it just sits there, empty and forgotten."

Davie pressed further. "And there's nothing unusual about it? No strange occurrences or sightings?"

The old man shook his head. "Not that I've heard. Just an old building, that's all."

Pluton and Davie thanked the old man and continued their search. They approached a group of children playing near a fountain, their laughter echoing through the square. Pluton knelt down to their level and asked, "Have any of you heard stories about the mansion? Anything strange or spooky?"

The children giggled and shook their heads. "Nope, just an old house," one of them said.

A shopkeeper arranging her display of goods overheard their conversation and approached them. "Are you two looking for ghost stories?" she asked with a smile. "I'm afraid you won't find any here. Our town is quite ordinary, I'm afraid."

Davie exchanged a glance with Pluton. "Ordinary, huh? Well, thank you for your time."

As they wandered through the town, their inquiries met the same responses. The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker – all of them insisted that the town was perfectly normal. No one seemed to know anything about the strange occurrences they had heard about.

Finally, they decided to settle in at a local inn to gather their thoughts and come up with a plan. The inn, like the rest of the town, was charming and well-kept. The exterior was adorned with ivy, and the sign above the door read "The Cozy Hearth." Inside, the tavern was dimly lit, with a warm and inviting atmosphere. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling, and the tables were adorned with flickering candles. The scent of roasting meat and freshly baked bread filled the air.

Pluton and Davie found a corner table and sat down, ordering drinks from the barmaid. As they waited, Davie began to play with his revolver, spinning it on his finger.

"So, what do you think is going on here?" Pluton asked, his eyes fixed on Davie's gun.

Davie shrugged. "I don't know, but I don't like it. It's like they're hiding something, but I can't figure out what."

Pluton nodded in agreement. "I know what you mean. I feel like we're missing something, but I can't quite put my finger on what it is."

As they brainstormed, the silence between them grew thicker. They both knew that something was off, but they couldn't quite figure out what it was.

A barmaid approached their table with their drinks. "Here you go, gents. Anything else I can get for you?"

Pluton looked up at her. "Actually, yes. We're trying to find out more about the mansion nearby. Have you heard any stories about it?"

The barmaid's expression remained neutral as she set down their drinks. "The mansion? Just an old building, nothing special about it. People around here don't pay it much mind."

Davie leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "And there's really nothing unusual about it? No strange happenings or anything?"

The barmaid shook her head. "Not that I've heard. It's just part of the town's history, but nothing more."

As the barmaid walked away, Pluton took a sip of his drink and leaned back in his chair. "I don't get it. How can everyone in this town be so oblivious?"

Davie spun his revolver one last time before placing it on the table. "Maybe we're looking in the wrong places. Maybe the people who know something aren't the ones out in the open."

Pluton raised an eyebrow. "You think there's a hidden group or something?"

Davie shrugged. "It's possible. Or maybe they're just too scared to talk about it openly."

Pluton considered this. "If that's the case, then we need to find someone who isn't afraid to speak up."

Their conversation was interrupted by a man at a nearby table who had been listening in. He was dressed in a dark overcoat, his hat pulled low over his eyes. "You two seem awfully interested in that old mansion," he said in a low voice.

Pluton and Davie exchanged glances before Pluton responded. "We are. Do you know anything about it?"

The man leaned in closer. "Maybe. But it depends on who's asking and why."

Davie looked the man up and down, assessing him. "We're just looking for answers. Heard some rumors and wanted to see if there's any truth to them."

The man smirked. "Rumors, huh? Well, let me tell you something. This town might seem normal on the surface, but there's more going on here than meets the eye."

Pluton leaned forward, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

The man glanced around to make sure no one was listening before speaking in a hushed tone. "There are things that happen here, things that people don't talk about. The mansion... it's got a history. A dark one. But the townspeople have learned to ignore it, pretend it doesn't exist. Keeps the peace, you know?"

Davie's eyes narrowed. "So you're saying they're hiding something?"

The man nodded. "Exactly. They don't want to stir up trouble. But if you want answers, you might want to talk to old Mrs. Whitaker. She lives on the outskirts of town, and she's been around long enough to know the truth."

Pluton and Davie exchanged a glance, their minds racing with possibilities. They thanked the man for his information and finished their drinks, their conversation lingering in the air like a challenge.