Chapter Ten

As far as inhabitants go, Elsie saw no one present in the room she had entered. There was a musty smell in the stagnant air, a similar scent to rotting wood and aging paint. Several layers of dust had settled on every available surface, giving them a smoky gray color. It all looked so fragile, so delicate; Elsie almost resisted taking a step farther into the room.

With the curtains lowered, what little sunlight there was outside could not get into this old abandoned chamber. Darkness had taken the cheer from this room just like death had taken the wife that David cherished.

Elsie approached the end table to the right of the bed, seeing what appeared to be a Bible laying forgotten on its surface. With a quick swipe of her hand, the dust was cleared. There was a frown on the silent teenager's face, her eyes shutting as a long sigh passed through her lips.

"What a shame. I hope you find rest, Mrs. Tusspot." Her words were low, the sound barely above a whisper. Elsie said a quick prayer for the woman she assumed was the apparition she had just seen, her solemn look never fading.

There was a sudden click of a brass doorknob being turned, followed by an unrelenting squeak as the closet door slowly opened. It was this sound that spurred Elsie into turning toward the source, a faint look of surprise etched in her features. As far as she could tell, there was nothing in the closet, just a dark void staring back at her. Cautiously, the colored teen began to approach.

Elsie almost expected the ghost to jump out at her to frighten her senseless, but no such thing occurred. All that remained in the closet were a few articles of clothing and a safe, its door opened just a bit. Instantly growing curious of what possible contents remain in the iron box, the religious teenager kneeled down and slowly swung the door until she could see what lie inside.

A single sheet of paper lay untouched in the empty center of the safe, its white surface gleaming back at Elsie even in the faded light in the room. Not quite sure what to make of her discovery, she picked up the solitary page and briefly scanned the first few lines. Honey brown eyes widened soon after.

"A suicide note…?"

"Elsie?" called a familiar voice, the sudden sound startling the dark-skinned teen. Whirling quickly around, she saw that it was Imogene peeking in from the hallway, a concerned expression on her freckled face. "What're you doin' in here? Mr. Niccals said this room's off limits!"

"My curiosity got the better of me. I will be leaving now." Elsie inwardly kicked herself for letting her guard down, facing forward again with a frown. She snuck the note into a pocket in her dress and made her way over to the doorway, then endured a halfhearted scolding from the American teenager before they both departed from the room.

. . .

After the brief chat she had with the gardener Russel, Gwen had left him to continue his work as she entered the mansion. The first person she saw upon walking into the foyer was Evelyn sitting in a couch reading a book, letting the redhead know that her piano lesson must be over for the day.

Summers gave her best friend a passing greeting as she walked by, which was quickly and happily returned. Their temporary caretaker was nowhere to be seen, which led Gwen to believe he was looking after the girls elsewhere. Thinking of Murdoc, her thoughts eventually sailed back to her conversation with Russel.

He had been hired by David as his role of personal gardener only a few short months ago, but had never seen or heard the wealthy man since he had been working here at the Tusspot mansion. This struck Gwen as very odd. How could Russel not have noticed David coming and going from his business? She had assumed that was why he was not present for their arrival.

Russel's suspicions pointed to the family friend of the Tusspots, Murdoc. From what Dave had told him, the peculiar-looking man had originally been appointed as a piano teacher for David's son, but became good friends with the head of the house during his stay. When Gwen questioned him about David having a child, which she had not been aware of, Russel shrugged and told her that was all he knew on that subject, and brought up the suggestion that perhaps the son had perished somehow as well.

A low rumble of thunder was heard from outside, reminding the preteen of the explanation for their adopted father's tardiness. There had been a constant dark cloud hanging over the manor all day, and she had known it would have only been a matter of time until the rain started back up. A dreary end to a dreary day.

As Gwen started up the stairs, she noticed Karen standing at the top of them, her gaze staring off down the long corridor that led to the bathrooms and the other rooms they have not explored. Coming up to the second floor, the redhead almost asked her what she was looking at. She soon remembered that the older teenager would not be able to hear her, so Gwen hesitantly decided to carry on toward her room nearby.

She strolled into the currently vacant chamber, ready to hop on her bed and relax for a while, but the redhead suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Dark gray eyes stared intently on the plastic doll sitting upright on her bed, weighing down a small piece of paper. The doll's hair was eerily as red as Gwen's, dressed in a casual T-shirt and dark brown shorts. As she moved closer, she noticed what looked like a welt around its left ankle.

"What the hell is this all about?" Her voice fell flat in the otherwise silent room, her face showing confusion at what she had found. Gwen picked up the doll that bore her likeness to see the note underneath, lifting the paper with her other hand to read it.

"A gift for you, and a gift for me. -S"

The baffled preteen read the note over and over, but could not understand exactly what it was referring to. She searched her mind for anyone that could have done this, and why. The more she thought about it, the less sense the situation made to her. Eventually, Gwen discarded the doll into a nearby drawer and briskly walked out of her room.

I'd better show this to Eve. She'll know what to do.

As she was rounding the corner to descend down the stairs, Gwen spotted Murdoc walking toward her. She assumed he was heading for the stairs like she was, but there was something about him that made the redhead's blood run cold. His eyes, partially covered by his thick black bangs, seemed to leer down at her, the sight making her legs freeze on the spot.

There was something vastly different about him this time, his stance, his expression; it was as if he was frustrated at something, and Gwen had unwittingly walked into his angered sights. Folding his arms behind his back, a gesture so familiar, the dark-haired man spoke up for the first time in this strained situation.

"Wot's that there?" His mismatched eyes snapped to the paper in Gwen's front pocket and stayed there, spurring Gwen to looking at it as well. Before she could answer, Murdoc held out an olive-tinted hand to her. "Give it to me."

After a brief hesitation, and a hint of a perplexed look, the redheaded preteen relinquished the note she found. She knew that the situation she was in could easily turn into an awkward one, having to explain where she had found the paper. For a moment, Gwen wished she had not found it first.

"Where did you get this?" Murdoc inquired after quickly reading the simple sentence on the paper, glaring down at Gwen once again. The unfamiliar cold tone in his voice sent waves of icy numbness through her small body, knowing the tone all too well. The redhead faltered, trying to figure out what she had done wrong.

"I found it."

"Where?" For a split second, Gwen inwardly debated if whether she should tell him or not. One look at the caretaker's narrowed eyes brought her to a decision very quickly.

"On my bed. It was just there when I walked in!" Upon Summers's shaky explanation, Murdoc's expression fell blank, contemplating, clearly thinking over what he had been told. The forced silence between them began to unnerve Gwen, wondering what he was doing. Even though she had not previously liked Murdoc very much before, this sudden shift in attitude worried her greatly.

Clearing his throat subtly and relaxing his angered façade, the dark-haired man folded up the paper and pocketed it. His demeanor had reverted back to the calm, suave adult Gwen had known him for. This change seemed to ease the tension somewhat, allowing the preteen to relax also.

"Very well. I'll look into this. In the meantime, if you find any more, you bring them to me. Understand?" The firmness in his voice was back, the sound frightening enough to make Gwen nod quickly in response. Satisfied, Murdoc gave a low, throaty chuckle and ruffled the preteen's hair as he passed her. "That's a good lass. We'll be having a big dinner tonight. Be sure to join us."

With those parting words, David's good friend began his descent to the first floor, leaving a stunned and baffled Gwen behind. It had all happened so sudden, too fast for her to comprehend. She had begun to wonder if the conversation had even happened at all.

. . .

As natural as breathing, day once again slowly rolls into night, signaling a time for settling down and relaxing. Rosie's disappearance weighed heavily on most of the mansion residents, still anxiously waiting a call from the authorities for any possible sign of her. If luck was with them, the lost fifteen-year-old would be found well and alive.

With the final remnants of fading sunlight still visible above the horizon, Murdoc called to the eight adopted girls for dinner. Their stomachs growling, six of the girls made it down to the table in under ten minutes. All that remained were Elsie and Evelyn, who were still lingering in their rooms.

Eventually, the colored religious teenager too joined her spot at the long table, as silent and composed as ever. No one really paid any heed to her arrival, their attention on chatting with their friends and wondering how much longer they had to wait until the food was ready.

Gwen, sitting in her usual spot in the second to last chair on the left, was placed in between two empty seats where her friends would normally be. It was a feeling that uprooted old memories of her early years in the orphanage: isolated, friendless, and alone. Watching the others converse amongst themselves did not help ease her mind either.

Growing more concerned about her remaining comrade who has not yet shown up than the forthcoming meal, the redhead twisted around in her chair until she had a clear view of the staircase, her troubled expression clear as day. She was just about to get up to check on Evelyn herself when Murdoc's gruff voice suddenly ripped through the ambient chatter of the other girls.

"Good evening, everyone. I'd like to report that the authorities have not yet found Rosie, but do not give up hope! Search teams will work around the clock until there is some clue to her whereabouts," he stated with a slightly raised voice, intending to reach the ears of every teenager in the room. "Therefore, I want you all to enjoy this feast Tattoo has prepared for you, to keep your spirits up."

The news only served to damper Gwen's resolve, rather than uplift it. She could not help but wonder where her friend could be, what she is feeling, thinking, and if she was hurt, or worse… The redhead immediately shook those thoughts away, not wanting to tread into that territory. Eventually, her thoughts sailed back to Evelyn and her tardiness.

She hardly noticed the chef bringing in what looked like a fairly large roast on a rolling cart, the side dishes encircled around it. Just as Tattoo set down the main course in the center of the table, Gwen spotted Evelyn making her way into the dining room. She appeared exhausted, perhaps even ill. But before she could ask her what was wrong, Murdoc intercepted the oldest teenager as she was about to get to the table.

"Evelyn, you don't look well. Is everything alright?" The concerned façade was easy to see on the dark-haired man's face, his tone low enough to go unnoticed by the teenaged girls who had begun to set their plates. The youngest of the group, however, listened in with curious eyes.

"I'm just feeling so tired. A lot has happened these past few days…" Evelyn replied with heavy eyes, still managing a meager smile at Murdoc. In turn, he gently pat her shoulder and drew closer to her, apparently attempting to delude his words even more; however, Gwen was able to catch most of it.

"My dear, you must go and rest up. Don't worry about dinner, I'll bring something up later if you'd like."

"Are you sure, Mr. Niccals?" Green eyes snapped up to her temporary caretaker, who nodded with a warming smile. He backed away somewhat, bringing his arms behind him.

"Of course. Please, rest your eyes. You'll feel much better."

Watching from the table, Paula gives a short huff as she fixed her plate. Maria and Lisa look over to her, wondering what brought out such a reaction in her. Before they could ask, the bucktoothed teen spoke up just barely above a whisper.

"Those two sure have gotten really close, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah. They're like… almost always together," Lisa stated in a quiet tone as well, looking over to the two of them with a raised brow. She only appeared to be amused at the claim, a vast contrast to her friends.

"Seriously. It's like she's attached to his hip or something." With a short snicker, Maria returned to her dinner. She poked around at the food for a while before adding on, "I guess Murdoc's pickin' favorites."

Paula scoffed again, her dark eyes narrowed as she turned them back to her plate. She was silent for a minute or two, searing in her frustration when she spoke up once again. "We'll see who's the favorite…"

As Evelyn relented and went to go back upstairs, Gwen got up from her chair and ran toward her. If her only remaining friend was not going to eat dinner, she did not want to either.

"Eve! I'm coming too¾!" The redhead was brought to a sudden stop when the caretaker's hand grabbed the back of her shirt, her legs still lurching forward in the momentum. Instantly angered, Gwen looked up at Murdoc with a glare. Despite this, his expression remained blank as he explained his actions.

"You'll only disturb her. Do you not realize how tired she is?"

"It's okay, Mr. Niccals. She knows how to be quiet when I'm sleeping," Evelyn interjected, still keeping her smile strong. "She can eat with me later."

"… Very well." Murdoc released Gwen as he caved in to Evelyn's statement, watching them as they made their way back to their room. He stood in apparent thought for quite some time, his arms hanging loose at his sides, his eyes still locked onto what he could see of the second floor. This peculiar behavior appeared to have caught the attention of the dining girls, who mostly held concerned expressions on their faces.

"Mr. Murdoc? Aren't you gonna eat?" Imogene called out, her inquiry slicing through the voiceless silence in the room. The family friend was brought out of his thoughts by the teen's question; he turned to them with an unreadable look on his face as he answered her.

"I'm afraid not, girls. I have matters I must attend to." He walked briskly to the doorway that led to the kitchen, stopping just before the exit as he faced them one last time. "But do enjoy your dinner. Eat as much as you like."

He was gone soon after he spoke those words.

. . .

With Evelyn already fast asleep, Gwen had no choice but to try and get some shuteye as well. She curled up in the thick blankets of her bed and eventually drifted off into a well-needed slumber. As the hours rolled on, the redhead's previously still form had begun to twitch, shift, and writhe, a sure sign that she was dreaming.

The hallways were long and winding, stretching and turning for what seemed like for miles. Gwen cautiously made her way down these sparsely-decorated corridors, her brow furrowed in obvious confusion. Then, wafting to her like smoke from a fire, the faint sound of sobbing caught the preteen's attention.

She moved about as if she was familiar with the area, following the crying as if it was her sole mission for being there. The more she thought about it, the more she felt that it probably was.

When walking did not seem to get her anywhere, Gwen picked up her pace into a light jog. It soon morphed into a full-on run when the maze of hallways began to take its toll on her. The sound of crying was coming from every direction, sometimes interrupted by blood-curdling screams which startled the redhead.

Then, as she rounded a corner, Gwen spotted a single door at the end of the short corridor. Immediately she went for it, noticing that the constant sobbing was getting louder and more prevalent as she approached. When her hands grasped the doorknob, it felt as cold as ice.

The door opened into what Gwen instantly recognized as the kitchen, the crying ceasing to nothing but a mere whisper. Listening hard for the sound, the redhead stepped farther into the seemingly empty cooking area, noticing that everything appeared to get a bit darker as she moved.

Then, as she drew near the stove, the crying slowly picked up in volume. Like a magnet, Gwen stepped closer to the gigantic oven. She was hesitant, wondering why there would be someone in there. Shakily, the preteen reached out a hand and opened the door to see who had gotten trapped inside.

Before Gwen could even react, a sudden flow of mangled and bloody human body parts poured from the oven. The screaming had reached its highest point, the sound deafening.

With a jolt, Summers shot up into sitting position with a quick, sharp gasp. Her widened gray eyes scanned every inch of the dark room she found herself in, soon recognizing it as hers and Evelyn's. Now more relaxed, Gwen grabbed her fox toy and laid back down with a long, quiet sigh. She was asleep again within the minute, the sound of rumbling thunder going unheard.