Written for QLFC, Round 5: Borrowed Inspiration
Arrows, Chaser 1.
Prompt: Use the title of a story written by your Chaser 2 for inspiration [(there's a story wriiten on my bones (would you like to see it)]
Additional prompts: 9) (word) playful
11) (dialogue) "I should have told you sooner."
15) (object) candle
Word Count (without A/N): 3011
Summary: A hundred years ago, Cadmus Peverell—the second of the three brothers—burned his estate down to its very foundations. 'It is cursed,' the locals say. It has stood empty ever since—until Ryan and his team are tasked to investigate the mansion, against all odds. A mysterious diary written by Enzo Muccetti as their guide.
But some things are better left forgotten.
Baby, I'm preying on you tonight
13th September,
Cadmus Peverell is not a punctual man. I knew this when we were children and he failed to arrive to breakfast on time because he was too preoccupied with the dead animals in his room, and I know this today because he kept me waiting outside his manor.
"Enzo Muccetti."
The words almost made me jump. "Yes," I said with an elevated voice. I hadn't heard anyone approach, yet here she was; a servant by the looks of it, with hair the color of ink and a petite figure. The servant lowered her head in a friendly nod. "This way, please." She turned and walked away from the gate in quick, elegant strides. What an odd thing to do, I thought, but I followed suit.
I was led to a nondescript door a good ways farther down the road.
"My apologies for the tardiness." The servant unlocked the door with a key she had slung over her neck. She swung it open and gestured for me to pass through. "Cadmus has the only key to the front gate, but he's not here presently. He'll join us for supper."
"Is he off picking up strays again?"
The servant cocked her head. She looked rather puzzled. "He didn't say. Did he do that often?"
"In his youth," I responded. I had many fond memories of our summers together, but this wasn't one of them; Cadmus had picked up strays, yes, but he'd brought just as many dead animals back home. Birds, dogs, cats, all kinds of half-rotten carcasses that stank up half the estate because Cadmus needed them for his "studies."
At the time I didn't think it odd that a servant would refer to her master by his given name; Cadmus had always been a friendly man.
We rounded the mansion until we reached the main entrance. "Please," the servant said in an inviting tone and gestured into the foyer. It was only slightly warmer than the outside, as if the walls couldn't quite keep out the chill that seemed to encase the entire property. I exhaled—I could have sworn to see clouds of my breath, but the room was unusually dim.
I followed her up a broad set of stairs into a moderately sized parlor, and settled myself into one of the armchairs by the fire. It crackled, the only thing in this room that seemed to make any kind of noise; even the servant had excused himself.
The servant—I learned that her name is Alexandra—brought supper to my chamber after sundown. She must have cooked it; the mansion is strangely desolate, and not just in its absence of inhabitants.
Alexandra herself is elusive, a fine specimen of a human being, but silent as a ghost, and I can't decide whether I should find this impressive or frightening.
(…)
The outside of the burned out mansion was considerably dirty.
"I've been wondering," Lilian, Ryan's assistant said. "Do people still go missing around here?"
An involuntary chill ran down Ryan's spine. He clicked his tongue. "Why would you say that now, Lilian?"
Lilian shrugged, hurrying inside the manor with the rest of his team.
14th September
Cadmus came home at an indeterminate and questionable hour last night. He knocked at my door like a madman, and when I opened, he greeted me like one greets a long lost brother.
"Enzo," Cadmus said later over breakfast with a broad smile. "You've met Alexandra?"
Alexandra smiled at the mention of her name and sat on an empty chair to Cadmus's left. "I have met Alexandra. Is she your only servant, Cadmus?"
"I—" Cadmus looked at Alexandra. "What gave you the impression?"
"Well, she tended to me. I assumed."
"I'm not his servant," Alexandra said. "I just like to be hospitable."
"Ah." An interesting revelation. "So you're his house wife, then?"
Alexandra's eyes flashed. "In every sense of the word." Cadmus coughed, red-cheeked and flustered.
"Cadmus, friend." I reached across the table and laid a finger on the back of his gloved hand. "Tell me," I said in a more conversational tone, "how has life been treating you?"
Cadmus retracted his hand and picked up a piece of chocolate bread, glancing at Alexandra briefly. "Quiet. I let my staff go last year. It's only Alexandra and me now."
"You let your staff go?" I shook my head. "Cadmus. When did you learn to manage your own household?"
Cadmus avoided my eyes when Alexandra said, "It's just me. I tend to everything as well as I can; Cadmus has other obligations."
"You work?"
"It's more of a passion project." Cadmus stood, breakfast half-eaten on the table. I only now noticed that Alexandra hadn't touched her own food at all.
"Please. Make yourself at home, explore the house if you'd like. Alexandra and I have some business to tend to."
And then they left. I didn't see him again until supper, although I think I spied Alexandra occasionally wandering down hallways or disappearing through doors.
It did strike me as odd that Cadmus had excused himself so suddenly, but I didn't dwell on it much. There had always been a mysterious air about him, ever since we were children. He did apologize to me at supper, saying that he'd felt sick suddenly, but that he hadn't wanted to worry me. I'm not sure if I shall believe in a sickness more than in a sudden desire of the flesh.
(…)
A strange scratching noise reach their ears as soon as they entered the wine cellar. Beneath the clicking of the cameras, it was barely distinguishable.
It was later, when they opened a particular door which revealed a staircase that they heard the faint whimpering voice followed by the sound of something grating against stone, a soft scratching that made the hairs on Ryan's neck stand on end.
"Cadmus?" it said, "Cadmus, please."
Oh shit.
15th September
It was mid-morning when I woke. Strange noises in the walls hadn't let me sleep the night before, a crescendo of footsteps and scratching that seemed to come from inside the walls, accompanied by moans that were either pained or pleasured, or perhaps both. I winked at Cadmus when I passed him in the hallway; he ducked away, his face a delightful shade of embarrassment.
While looking around the manor, I came upon Cadmus's study. Voices were coming from inside, hushed but not indecipherable. And pleading, as far as I could hear.
I should not have eavesdropped for as long as I did. But something Cadmus said made me halt.
He said, "He is a good man." Innocent words, but Cadmus's tone was desperate, urgent. To my own dismay I crept closer, careful not to make a sound. The door to the study stood slightly ajar, enough to peek inside and see a portion of the room.
Shelves upon shelves lined the walls, each bursting with animals sat atop them, an array of birds and rodents and small dogs. Dead, with their skin and fur stretched over wooden frames and their eyes replaced with glass in an attempt to imitate life.
My gaze passed over them, unfazed. Cadmus's passion for taxidermy had long ceased to unsettle me.
"That girl was a good child too, I'm sure," Alexandra murmured, barely loud enough for me to understand. A chill ran down my spine. Somehow the playful tone that Alexandra's voice carried didn't feel right. I could see her standing in front of one of the shelves, examining a bottle of something I couldn't see. Somehow my conscience knew that the small murmured sentence was not a good implication.
(…)
"Let's go down the stairs,"
Ryan and his team made the regrettable choice of agreeing.
16th September,
I woke today with a strange headache and a feeling of grogginess in my limbs. I should probably attribute this to the raised voices and stomping footsteps; it appears Cadmus and Alexander had an audible disagreement last night.
Or perhaps it was the screaming that had woken me in the middle of the night, of which I only have a hazy recollection. I remember scratching noises, coming from so deep within the walls I'm not entirely sure they hadn't come from my own head instead.
Alexandra informed me at breakfast that Cadmus had gone out in the night, and evidently not yet returned. Alexandra herself seemed different: she inquired with great curiosity about Cadmus's childhood, and the nature of our relationship. I in turn asked about her and Cadmus.
"I wouldn't be who I am if not for Cadmus," Alexandra said. She was looking at me with open interest, like I was a book that needed to be studied. "In many ways he created me, and I love him for that."
"That's very poetic," I said.
Alexandra blinked. "It's true."
I nodded in assent and set my plate aside. The breakfast I had been served was peculiar, an experiment as Alexandra had called it: scrambled eggs and minced meat, the animal of which I hadn't been able to discern
Alexandra returned her attention to his food. Afterward, she offered to show me the wine cellar, which piqued my interest. It was a part of the manor I hadn't yet seen.
The cellar itself was smaller than I had imagined, considering the size of the manor, but it held rows upon rows of barrels, each containing wines of exquisite taste. We had brought glasses for tasting and to my amusement, Alexandra had not denied her intentions of getting me inebriated. She seemed to take her alcohol better than me, as I soon had the pleasure to find out.
"Would you like to see what's beneath the wine cellar?" she asked after a little while.
I made my agreement known with a nod, and Alexandra led me to a nondescript door that I would have taken for a patch in the wall if I hadn't been standing right in front of it.
Alexandra gave an innocent smile and lighted two candles before pulling the door open
Neither of us spoke on the way down the series of stairs, but the chill of anticipation sobered me up. The walls were curiously devoid of mold and cobwebs; it struck me as bizarre that this part of the manor would be cleaned more frequently than the rooms above ground, but evidently this was the case. I asked Alexandra about it, but her response was vague. They used it as food storage, she said.
Eventually the staircase ended, leading into a chamber of medium size from which three doorways seemed to lead in different directions.
"Don't leave my side," Alexandra said. "It's a maze down here. I wouldn't want you to get lost."
She led the way through the middle door down a hallway. Occasionally there would be a room adjacent to the corridor, small cells whose doors were broken or missing entirely. The farther we went, the more I became aware of the noise: scratching sounds, the same I had heard in the previous nights. Like rats gnawing their way through the foundation of the building, or nails dragging across the inside of the walls. Sometimes a gust of wind would blow through the corridor, carrying with it the sound of moans and complaints.
Alexandra but stopped in front of one of the cells whose door was still intact and pushed it open. "I hope you don't mind the morbid."
I recoiled. There, inside cell lay the perfectly preserved remains of a child. Its bones gleamed white in the light of the lantern as if someone had polished them. Its jaw hung crooked from the little skull, still embedded with a second row of teeth like larvae in their nests. The walls around had marks on them, as if the child had desperately tried to dig its way to the surface.
"Her name is Anna," Alexandra said, stepping into the cell and kneeling. She picked up a bone from her hand and turned it in her fingers. "Cadmus cleaned her bones when he found her."
"You… named a dead girl," I said. My skin felt as though a colony of ants was crawling across it.
"Cadmus did."
Of course Cadmus did.
"He has always had a... fascination with dead things," I said.
"He does." Alexandra rose. The candles cast dancing shadows into the room as she moved; for a moment, the child's skeleton seemed to twitch.
Stomping, accompanied by the loud rasping of breath echoed through the hallway. I jumped and crashed against something cold, hard: the stone wall, slick with underground dampness. I exhaled in an attempt to calm myself.
Alexandra seemed unimpressed as she raised the candles and took a step forward.
Another light appeared at the end of the hallway, swinging violently back and forth. "Alexandra," it howled in Cadmus's voice.
A moment later, Cadmus himself appeared behind a lantern, with his eyes blown wide and breaths coming in pants. He must have been running through the entire manor; he looked as if he had seen a ghost.
"Cadmus," Alexandra greeted.
Cadmus nodded and looked me up and down with a frown before his features softened.
"Is everything alright?" I asked.
"Yes," he said with a hesitant smile. "Yes, it's fine. I only thought..." He didn't elaborate on what he'd thought, and I didn't implore any further. Not while the hairs on my neck told me I was being watched; I would speak to Cadmus later, in private.
(...)
"A dungeon," Lilian said. "That's... that's something."
The scratching was loud and oh, so close now, close enough that Ryan thought, sometimes, to feel nails dragging along his skin. But more horrifying than that was, oh God, were those human bones?
"Let's just go," someone murmured.
"Cadmus, let me go."
They immediately began climbing the staircase, hearts beating faster. Ryan turned slightly to look behind and screamed.
A set of blood red eyes flashed from afar.
17th September.
I have made the decision to return home.
Something about this manor makes my skin crawl and my stomach twist. It's like a disease that permeates its rooms, a rot that lingers in the air and corrupts everyone who breathes it.
The nature of this affliction is foreign to me, an intangible force with Alexandra at its center. Alexandra is not human. She is changed, in some way, although I cannot say how. Cadmus would not elaborate either.
"I love Alexandra," he said. "I will serve her the world on a silver platter if she asks."
I'd had to corner him in his study, long after supper had been served.
"She said you changed her," I said. "What did she mean, Cadmus?"
Cadmus remained silent, staring into the distance behind me. His posture seemed casual but the skin around his eyes was red. After a few moments he stood, sighing, and picked up a framed picture from his desk. He handed it to me.
It was a photograph of him and Alexandra by a river. Cadmus's arm was slung around Alexandra's waist.
"I should have told you sooner," Cadmus grimaced.
"She became ill," he said. "A mere week after this picture was taken. She should have..." He dropped his head onto my shoulder, squeezing my fingers. His body began to tremble. "She should have died."
I laid my hand on his neck, brushing my fingers through his hair like I had when we were children. "But she didn't."
"She didn't," He buried his face deeper into my shoulder. The hem of my shirt was starting to soak with tears. "And it's my fault. I played with forbidden things, Enzo, and now..."
"How can I help?" I asked.
"You can't."
Cadmus stiffened, and his hands let go of mine. I hadn't heard Alexandra enter but here she was. I wouldn't have noticed the blood on her if it hadn't sullied her skin as well.
"Alexandra!" Cadmus darted across the room. "Alexandra," he said again, laying both his hands on Alexandra's cheeks. The blood there didn't seem to bother him.
"You were talking about me," Alexandra said. Her eyes fixed on me, burning red.
"Yes," Cadmus said, "I'm sorry. Where...?"
"At the butcher's."
A chill spilled into my bones. Cadmus did not appear disturbed by the wrongness of Alexandra's statement. He wiped the blood off with his own thumb.
"Go," he said, facing me. The blue of his eyes was dull, pleading.
The next day, I woke in a tangle of damp bed sheets. Morning light was flooding my room, golden, as if to shoo away the horrors of last night.
In the afternoon, I found Cadmus in his study, hunched over an open book. Papers with hasty sketches and diagrams blanketed his entire desk.
"You're leaving," Cadmus said.
"Yes." I had made my decision this morning
"Maybe it's for the best." He reclined in his chair. "You came because I"—he grimaced—"I haven't been a very good friend, have I?"
"Cadmus." I dropped onto his armchair, smiling. "I want to help, if you'll let me. That's why you called me, isn't it?"
Cadmus lowered his gaze, tensing. He gave a nod, but there was something akin to resistance in his posture, an internal struggle whose cause I couldn't discern.
The door to the study cracked open.
"Cadmus," Alexan
dra said. She fixed me with a hungry stare. "I wanted to talk about…"
"O-of course." Cadmus face was devoid of colour.
"I will leave you to it, then," I said and stood. Alexandra's eyes on me stung like a breath of ice.
After tonight, I would be gone. I exhaled when I closed the door behind me.
Inside, Alexandra was speaking, her voice dripping honey. "I want to devour everything you love,"
The grating inside the walls has become unbearable in these past hours, a clock that counts backward until it runs out of time.
(…)
A voice echoed behind them as they all rushed outside.
"I'll be good, Cadmus," it cried. "Please don't leave me again, I will not eat more of him."
"Don't leave."
fin.