Chapter 3

The train took Dennis across three counties, and he stared out the window for the entire trip, except for meal times, when he was served by a waiter. The train did not pass through another city, and Dennis observed much rural land of the same appearance for the trip. Just before dinner time on the train, the thunderstorm stopped as the sky darkened for the night.
The train pulled into the fourth county station at twelve o'clock midnight, he was the only passenger to get off at the deserted station. The station platform was lit by a single line of streetlights, surrounded by seemingly solid and impenetrable blackness. Dennis watched the train pull out of the station after a five minute stop and into the darkness of the tracks beyond. He exited the station and found a car waiting for him.
The car was a shiny black vehicle, a four-wheel drive. It was parked just outside the entrance to the little station, where it would be the first thing anyone coming out of the station will see. The pebbled country road, not illuminated by streetlamps, stretched parallel to the train tracks, it disappeared into the darkness also.
The driver of the black car noticed Dennis before Dennis noticed him, he got out from the driver's seat and walked around to open the back door for Dennis. He held up a handwritten sign that read: 'Mr. Dennis Raveley'. Seeing the sign, Dennis nodded and the driver motioned with an arm for him to enter the vehicle.
The interior of the black car was equally polished as its exterior. The seats were leather, the space smelled of air fresheners, and the surfaces were dusted and clean. The driver started the engines, which made a low hum, and pulled out of the driveway of the train station and onto the country road. 
For some time Dennis saw himself reflected in the rear mirror of the slick black car gliding silently in the night, and he looked at himself in that mirror, feeling sleepy. The driver gave him a pillow that was on the right side seat next to his, Dennis took it and laid down horizontally across the back seats, the pillow under his head. He thought about the mute driver, or perhaps a chauffeur was the profession of the man, and decided that he liked the stillness and silence of the ride, and was soon asleep.
When Dennis woke up, he found the chauffeur still driving unfatigued, and a look outside told him that it was now early morning. He had not dreamed during his sleep on the backseat of the car; Dennis rarely dreamed. The windows of the car were blurred by recent rain, which had started again during the night, and outside nothing could be made visible except for shades of indigo, light blue and flashes of yellow. A misty downpour covered the silent countryside like a thick blanket, accompanied by fog.
Dennis sat up and looked outside the windshield of the front of the car. The road stretched onwards into dense fog, there were few cars on the road with them. The chauffeur drove hunched over the steering wheel, most of his head concealed under a brown fedora, the same color of his trench coat. His face was unreadable. The windshield wipers swung back and forth at a rhythmic pace, clearing gathering raindrops and refreshing the same road scenery every few seconds. The stillness of the country before sunrise remained undisturbed.
Dennis saw that it was just after five o'clock in the morning. The car stopped.
Dennis looked around to see if they've arrived at the destination, all around him he saw forests. There was no sign of a house in sight. The chauffeur exited the car as swiftly as a light wind, he opened the back door at Dennis' side and motioned for him to exit too. Dennis hesitated and got out of the car. When he did and was standing, the chauffeur took out a band of cloth and wrapped it around Dennis' head, covering his vision. The chauffeur did this in a matter of seconds and tied the knot at the back. He put one hand then on Dennis' shoulder, who was by this point very puzzled, and Dennis assumed it was a gesture to indicate comfort.
The chauffeur helped Dennis back into his seat inside the car and resumed driving. Dennis stroked the blindfold covering his vision; he was unfamiliar with the knot, and it seemed to be fastened to his head with something other than the knot, something like glue.
Dennis had read a book shortly before about how to tie different types of knots, ironically he found no instruction in the book on how to undo the knots which were shown with precise directions and diagram. Dennis thought it was quite humorous. The rain beats against the windshields quickened and Dennis fell back into a sleep listening to the quite and serene tap of water drops against glass, which happened in this case to be bullet proof, though Dennis did not notice that. He slept sitting up.
Dennis was shaken awake after some time. The car had stopped again and the chauffeur helped Dennis out of the car. Dennis still had the blindfold across his eyes. The chauffeur led Dennis with a hand on his shoulder from pebbled ground onto tiled, and then carpeted flooring. They turned left, then right, then right and right again. Before the final right, Dennis was stopped and heard a door open, he was led into the doorway and finally seated on a cushioned chair. He heard the chauffeur leave without a word. The door was closed.
'Hello.' A toneless, suspiciously mechanical voice said.
'Hello?' Dennis said. He turned his head this way and that, and tried to take the blindfold off, it slid off his head effortlessly. Surprised, Dennis examined the piece of cloth in his hand, it seemed to have nothing special to it. Dennis blinked to adjust to the dim lighting of the room he was in, and found himself in a private office of some kind, the room was a square and lit by a single chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the floor was covered by a simple brown carpet, and the only significant piece of furniture was a wide mahogany desk with nothing on it. Behind the desk rests a swivel armchair, the huge backrest facing Dennis, obstructing whoever seated in the chair.
'Hello, welcome.' The voice began, 'Welcome to the mansion, have you taken off your blindfold?'
'Yes,' Dennis said, wondering if he was being watched.
'Great, now, come over here and meet me in person.' The voice said.
Dennis stood up and walked over to the armchair, he reached out a hand and turned the backrest around. There was no one in the chair. He looked down and found a device that resembles a walkie-talkie.