Freedom 2

Amnesia: Justine Fanfic

Abby looked down at the floor of the old estate. She could have sworn that she heard something below, almost like…music. Her parents heard it to, and looked around nervously. Abby's mom clutched her hand tighter. "Honey, doesn't this place give you the creeps?" said Mrs. Iraleth Florbelle, Abby's mom. Abby shook her head. "I think it's cool. It's really big, and we have it aaalll to ourselves!" she cheered, running towards a large bed. "Mommy, can I have this one?" Mrs. Florbelle smiled faintly. "We'll see."

Her husband, Mr. Johnson, looked around at the pictures. "So, you inherited all this, dear? I must say, it's much better than our apartment in New Jersey…" The seller tapped his foot impatiently. Mr. Johnson turned to him. "We'll take it." "Wonderful!" said the seller. "Now, we're going to have to discuss some repairs, landscaping…oh!" The seller suddenly became very serious.

"You really should heed these words, Mr. Johnson and Mrs. Florbelle. The basement is off-limits to everybody, even you. Your great-great grandmother, Justine, made it clear in her will that she wanted nobody in there. And as for you, child," he said, looking down at Abby, "In case you're getting any ideas, they say that there are monsters down there. Boo!" Abby squealed and hid behind her mom's leg.

"Now, that's enough! There's no reason to scare my daughter. We're taking the house," the mother said, and the seller handed her the keys. "I mean it, though. You wouldn't go in there if you know what's good for you," he muttered ominously one last time, then walked out. Mrs. Florbelle rolled her eyes. "Abby, why don't you look around? Me and Daddy are gonna go unpack."

Abby nodded nervously, and her mother kissed her on her forehead. "Don't worry, hon. There are no monsters here. He was just kidding." Abby thought about the music they all heard earlier, and wasn't too sure about that. As her parents walked out, Abby wandered around the house. It was a huge estate, with bits and baubles in every room. The entire palace was adorned with beautiful trimmings and detailed statues and furniture.

"I should invite Kim over one day," whispered Abby to herself, looking up at an exquisite chandelier on the ceiling. "She would be sooo jelous. My great-great-great grandma sure was rich," she muttered, gazing out the window to the streets below. Glancing to her left, Abby noticed a portrait of a young Victorian girl with curly black hair.

"Wow, she looks just like me!" said Abby, walking over to the picture. "Well, except for the eyes, maybe." Indeed, the eyes in the portrait stared forward coldly. Abby felt as though they were watching her, or judging her. She backed away, shuddering. "Well, that's creepy." She wandered the halls of the mansion for some time, taking in all the sights of her new home.

Suddenly, Abby stopped short again. She was sure of it this time. There were noises coming from the basement! Tensely, she put her ear to the ground and closed her eyes, listening hard. She could barely hear some short snippets of speech, all the voices diluted by strange echoing sounds. '…eccentric genius, he says…potatoes getting old…hate the cells…'

The voices sent shivers down her spine, and she stood up quickly. Breathing heavily, the child backed up against the tall white wall. The doorbell rang and Abby jumped, but she reluctantly ran over and opened the front door. Her parents stumbled in, carrying heavy bags of luggage and moving supplies. "So, honey, how do you like the new house?"

"There are…there are voices down there! In the basement, I swear I heard them!" Mrs. Florbelle shook her head and frowned. "Rats. I knew there was a catch! Well, it's a good thing we brought some pest spray." "But…but…" Abby stammered, trying to catch her mom's attention. But her efforts were in vain. "Don't worry hon. We'll knock 'em out." She rubbed Abby's head and dumped the luggage on the floor.

Abby's dad heaved her onto his shoulders. Normally, Abby would have squealed with joy, but now she stared forward silently. She knew that they wouldn't believe her about the voices. "You seem awful quiet today, dear. Come on, cheer up! This house is way better that that old, ratty room, right?" She nodded silently. Mr. Johnson gave his daughter a little piggy-back ride up the stairs and to her room.

"This is where you'll be staying, Ab!" Abby, wide-eyed, looked around the huge room. A queen-sized bed lay at the far right, up against a wall. On the floor was a large rug weaved with intricate patterns. In the far left corner was a device that she didn't recognize. Her father put her down and walked up to it. "Hey, I know what this is! It's an old phonograph! People back in the 1800s used to use them for recordings and stuff. Let's see what it says…"

He spun the crank, but no noise came from the phonograph. "Huh, I guess the cylinder is missing. Abby, if you can find a…well, a cylinder, we might be able to find out what this says. Keep your eyes open, 'kay? Abby nodded. These kind of mysteries were more her style then monster hunting.

A few hours passed, and Abby heard nothing more of the voices. It began to grow dark outside, and her parents tucked her into the new bed and kissed her goodnight, then left for their own room. Abby could not sleep. She was positive, absolutely positive, that something was here. And if her parents wouldn't believe her, than she would have to deal with it herself. Shivering, Abby pulled the covers over her head when she heard splashing downstairs. Come on, buck up Abby! she thought to herself, and slowly peeked her head out of the covers.

After a few more minutes, the girl couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing a lantern on an exquisite end table, Abby got out of bed and ran down the stairs. She pressed her ear to the ground again. She could hear some gentle splashing and breathing, but no voices. Frustrated, Abby went down another flight of stairs which led to a wooden door. It didn't age well, and she easily opened it. She was lucky it didn't fall off of its hinges and wake her parents.

Smiling, Abby entered another room. She placed her hand on a lever next to her by accident, and it instantly dropped. Suddenly, two enormous stone walls moved away from each other, revealing the rest of the room-and the door it hid. Had she looked up, she would have seen a skeleton hanging from the ceiling. But she pressed onward past the stone walls that had opened, unbolting the weak wooden door. Taking a deep breath, the little girl opened it.

…..

Back when Abby had pressed her ear to the ground the first time, the suitors below had heard strange noises as well. When the luggage was spilled, it was too loud to ignore. Basile shushed the other two suitors and pointed upwards.

"…Did you hear that?" he said, heart pounding. Alois nodded. "Yes, I heard it to." "But how? The house has been abandoned for years!" yelled Malo. Basile shook his head, unsure and uneasy. Alois' face lit up. "Guys…we can call for help! We're saved! We can finally leave this hellhole!" Before Alois could shout 'help', Basile put a bloody hand over his mouth.

"Wait. We aren't sure who these people are; we aren't sure how they'll react to three random people in the ground." Basile whispered. When Basile thought of this, however, he did not think of how they might react to their overall appearance. The blind suitors had no notion of how monstrous they looked. "We need to wait and listen. Take this nice and slow."

The trio waited and listened, hoping that these people were good. Alois heard the best out of all of them, and pointed out individual voices and words. "There are two adults and a child. There were three adults before, but one left. The others are settling in. I think they're going to live here!" he whispered in excitement. They all smiled inwardly.

After hours of waiting, Malo finally got up. "I'm getting tired, and so are they. They'll be here tomorrow. I'm going back to the water room for some sleep." Alois got up to. "Yeah, I'm going back to the cells. It's late. G'night, Basile, Malo." Basile nodded and walked over to some potato sacks arranged in the shape of a bed. He lay down, exhausted.

As Malo splashed through the water, he thought he heard a faint rumbling in the distance-like gears turning. Must be my imagination, he thought groggily, and plopped down in the center of the room, sleeping instantly.