Hello again! I'm back!
Josephine quickly left for the warm glow of the cottage, not even bothering to shield herself from the spitting rain. Inside, she scampered up the stairs, hoping to find something of use on the second level. Certain she was alone in the house, she gently opened the first door she found; it was a bedroom, lit by sputtering lamps, yet having an inexplicably ominous sense about it. Several sepia portraits in heavy frames hung above the bed, and exposed beams lined the ceiling and walls. An abandoned tripod sat facing a dusty window, and hung on a slight tilt was an illegibly smudged frame with an official looking document. Feeling around in her bag, she pulled out a damp rag and began to scrub at the grime, frowning as the letters became more visible.
TICKET OF PATIENT ADMITANCE
PROVINCIAL LUNATIC ASYLUM OF MANCHESTER, ENGLAND
IN ACCORDANCE TO PARLIAMENT ACT 18 IN VICTORIA, NO. 114
(Note: Idiots and persons afflicted with paralysis are inadmissible to asylum)
No. 912 C Secretarial Office, Manchester, Nov. 6, 1884
Admittance of patient CHARLES DALIMARto Asylum as patient with abnormality
Patient afflicted with severe delusions of grandeur and lock/key obsession.
Patient believes in magical device used to manipulate the deceased.
Suggest bleeding/leech purging and shock therapy.
PATIENT TO REMAIN BOUND AND SEDATED AT ALL TIMES.
Name: SAMUEL BODKIN
Admitted on application of: ABIGAIL R. DALIMAR
A row of skulls were drawn along the bottom edge, each slightly differing. Josephine took a moment to carefully copy the designs into her notebook, continuing to frown at the application. It certainly seems an accurate depiction of Charles to be delusional, and it certainly seems an accurate depiction of the Dalimar family to have one of their own admitted to a mental institute. She walked briskly back down the stairs and tried the door against the far wall, only to find that it was sealed with a lock. The mechanism consisted of six pins, each depicting a different skull, which needed to be depressed in order. Flipping through her notebook, she punched in the correct combination, waiting impatiently as the bolt eased open with painful slowness. Surprisingly, the room was rather well lit, with a drawing table, steamer trunk, and a stack of loose books piled waist high lined the walls. A crunch of footsteps on stiff grass alerted her attention to a window and she saw the approaching figures just in time to duck out of sight. Victor plodded on, holding a small, limp form in his arms.
"Father, you must be drained from your journey to the carnival! I'll get you back into your chamber so you can feel the warm embrace of your family. Their souls will make you warm again."
The form he was carrying made a raspy breath that sent shivers up Josephine's spine. Charles. I should have known that he'd be back here! As soon as the coast was clear, Josephine sprang up, a new sense of wild urgency seizing her. She crouched by the steamer trunk, examining the heavy padlock. Nothing a bit of classic detective skills won't solve! She pulled the hair pin she had used to free herself from the attic just hours before and began to work the lock until she heard a snap. Inside the trunk was a telescope, which she tucked into her messenger bag. As she turned to leave, a piece of paper on the floor caught her attention. She picked it up and flitted over the spidery scrawl.
My dearest son,
I have entrusted you to maintain the grounds and various mechanisms in and about the estate. Any disturbance to our family will cause my plan to fail. Divert the attention of any curious parties by any means at your disposal. Prying eyes should be closed—permanently. Remember that I have left you reminders to the elevator combination about the property. I am counting on you, son. Do not fail me.
Your loving father,
Charles
Josephine tossed the note aside, hurrying back to the bedroom. She set the telescope up on the tripod and peered through. It was set to focus on the weathervane on the top of Ravenhearst Manor. The vane itself was shaped like a raven perched atop a ring of numbers, with the suit of clubs in the center. Yet another clue waiting for discovery. She copied the numbers in her notebook quickly, her hand shaking slightly. An idea struck suddenly, adding to her frenetic mood. She jogged back down the hill, careful not to slip on the staircase and clamored into the cable car, restlessly waiting as it lurched back to the hidden lair. She practically sprinted though the chamber all the way to the general store in Roseville. She fumbled for the key in her bag and jammed it into the skull panel. Behind it was a number dial and four playing cards, one of each suit, with an arrow on a dial pointing to clubs. She flicked to dials into order, following the pattern from the weathervane. The card retracted into a small slot. She turned the dial to hearts and began pouring back through her notes until she found the engraving from the plaque near the front gates. She found the correct sequence and moved onto spades, from the buoy in the inlet by the docks, and diamonds, from the chalkboard in the schoolhouse. There was a muffled ding of a bell. Josephine cranked the elevator lever and descended to the dock. She cranked again, and, instead of taking her back to the general store as it had on past trials, the vessel descended further.
The doors eased open into a dank stone chamber branching off into three openings. Choosing the one on her right, Josephine came into a sweeping hall well-lit by a distant skylight. In the center was an unmistakable statue form, draped in jewels and withered flowers, surrounded by dripping candles. Laid delicately at the statue's base was piece of parchment covered in familiar spidery letters.
Sweet Emma, in time you will forgive my sins. The world of the living shall forever divide us, but I shall bind you close to me in the darkness of death. Fear not a solitary passage, Dear Love. In time, I shall send you a beautiful Rose and her lovely daughters. Their fellowship shall provide you with everlasting comfort and grant me the gift of Life. Yes, the locks will keep you, but in time they will rot. Even their great power is not rival for ghostly scratchings. The only way to be with you and maintain the doors is by crossing the void between life and death. Your companions will give their souls to me so that I may have the energy to remain within the void. I shall also bear you a son, one who will preserve Ravenhearst Manor as we dance within her walls for all eternity. Accept this locket as my final gift to you. May it forever remind you of our loving family.
Yours forever,
Charles
The hairs began to prickle along her arms and down the back of her neck. Obviously the depraved scrawlings of one insane. I've got to end this. She glanced about the chamber, hoping to find the locket somewhere in plain sight. It was dangling from the statue's outstretch palms, remarkably well preserved. She knelt to examine the knickknacks piled at the base, some sort of shrine to the 'family'; photographs, jewelry, more letters of devotion, flowers. Tucked carefully into a delicate blossom was another heart, much like the one found in the work room at the cottage. Josephine pocketed this as well. She left the hall, examining the middle passage, blocked by a locked door. A plaque read in crisp flowing print A house built upon love is a house Eternal. In the middle of the plaque was a depression, matching perfectly the shape of the locket. Once fitted with the ornament, a panel flipped open, revealing no less than ten small heart-shaped holes. She took the jeweled hearts and pressed them into two of the spots. They fit perfectly. She turned away to the left passage, apparently another study, adorned in metal and polished stone with heavy drapery. A leather-bound notebook lay face down on the floor, seemingly thrown in disgust. Josephine flipped through a few pages, pondering a set of highly detailed sketches of complicated machinery labeled with equations and several angry notes about the failed tests that had been recently run. This looks bad…
