I was diggin through my archives and I ran across this inspiration for this little episode. It was originally an English project. When I got done with it I realized it would be perfect for Aurora and Holmes. It's not even close to the style Aurora uses, but i hope you like it. It's also posted over on fictionpress.net. The assignment was to rewrite an episode of Homer's Odyssey. See if you can tell which one it is.
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A Skeleton in the Attic
"Wanted: A governess with a knowledge of French, Latin, and piano.
Must be able to start immediately. Pay L 20 a month, including room
and board. Interested parties apply to John Kiones, 720 Tooley Street."
"Good evening sir. No, that's no good. Good evening sir." I rehearsed my lines again as I walked down Tooley Street. My funds were too short to take a cab from my makeshift apartment on Vauxhall Road. I had been applying for governess positions for nearly a month, but good positions were hard to come by. Tooley Street was an affluent part of town, so hopefully this would be suitable.
720 Tooley Street was a large cavernous manor. All the other houses on the street had cheerfully lit windows shining out over the London streets. But the house I intended to visit looked dark, cold, and a little damp. I hesitated at the foot of the stairs. A London fog began to creep over the cobblestones and the air grew chilly. I shook off a sense of foreboding and rang the bell.
A well-dressed man, who towered at least seven feet, answered the door. He favored me with a stony glare before speaking.
"What do you want?" He rumbled.
"Good evening sir. I came to answer an ad for a governess. My name is Vanessa Warsley." I answered in a voice that was steady, if not loud. His whole demeanor changed at once.
"Ah, do come in," He smiled broadly, holding the door open for me. "Please forgive my rough greeting, I was reading and I do so hate to be disturbed."
He showed me into a dimly lit study. A small fire crackled on the grate, but gave off little warmth. A newspaper lay open on the table. One of the ads was circled. I could see that it was the same ad I had come to answer, but the date on the paper was October 25, 1904. Exactly a year ago. Mr. Kiones whisked the paper of the desk and into a drawer before I could be sure of the date.
"Your duties here would be quite simple." He began without preamble. "I have a young son who wants looking after. You would spend your time taking care of him, teaching him a bit of French, a bit of Latin. My wife enjoys piano music, and if she should wish you to play a melody or two, I'm sure it would be no imposition. You would have your own room of course, adjoining the nursery. We have a butler, Smith, who is rather deaf, and a cook who has her own home. Your salary would be twenty pounds a month and weekends would be your own." He finished quickly. "Would these terms be acceptable?"
"I…I…" I was a bit flustered. Usually these interviews lasted much longer than a minute, and I had a vague feeling of unease about the whole arrangement. On the other hand, twenty pounds a month was very good money, and I could still see the small mountain of bills on my desk. "I believe that it would be acceptable."
"Excellent!" He gave another broad, empty smile. "I'm afraid my wife and son are away in the country until Friday, so we'll put off introductions until then." He opened the door to the study once again. "Allow me to show you the house."
My opinion of the house was that it was dark, cold, and rather damp. I saw no evidence of anyone else in the house. Even the child's room looked abandoned. I put that down to the absence of Mr. Kiones wife and son.
"And this," he said, opening a door at the end of a corridor, "will be your room."
I just had time to register the fact that the room was totally bare before he shoved me into to the room, slamming the door behind me. There was a metallic click of the key in the lock.
"Good night, Miss Vanessa Warsley." His sinister voice echoed down the corridor.
I scrambled to my feet and tried to force open the door, to no avail. After beating on the door and shouting myself hoarse at the evil creature who had imprisoned me, I began to calm down and examine my surrounding. I had been wrong in thinking that the room was empty. A cot-like bed stood along the wall, half-rotted. A single window opposite the door provided some illumination as my eyes adjusted to the dark.
A small bundle of what looked like clothes lay huddled in a corner. I approached slowly and tried to lift the first item. The skeleton which was wearing those clothes came loose from its final resting place. I consider myself a capable woman, not easily frightened, but this final shock was too much. I shrieked and fainted away.
Ding ding ding ding ding
The sound of a grandfather clock reverberated through the house, awakening me. I awoke all at once, suddenly comprehending. The monster downstairs must have killed the poor soul whose bones now lay in the corner. Perhaps she was even his absent wife. And now the same fate awaited me.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs startled me out of my daze. I stood quickly, looking for an escape. There was none, of course. ~ Except to hide, under the bed like a frightened child. ~ I thought grimly. Then an idea sprung to mind. The bed was rotting to pieces, one of the legs had already fallen off. I snatched it and hefted it like a club. Kiones' steps grew ever closer.
I stood behind the door and waited. It opened suddenly and Kiones strode in, not expecting resistance. I swung the makeshift club, and it splintered over his head. He dropped to the floor with a loud cry, but I didn't stay to see if he had been knocked out.
I ran as fast as I could go, down the stairs and out of the house. The first signs of dawn were beginning to show in the east. I took the first cab I saw straight to Scotland Yard, cab fare be damned.
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Did anyone guess the Cyclopes episode? If so, kudos, have cyber-cookie.
Questions, comments, critisicms, complaints? Make your voice heard.
.•´¨`•»¦«•Kerowyn•»¦«•´¨`•.
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A Skeleton in the Attic
"Wanted: A governess with a knowledge of French, Latin, and piano.
Must be able to start immediately. Pay L 20 a month, including room
and board. Interested parties apply to John Kiones, 720 Tooley Street."
"Good evening sir. No, that's no good. Good evening sir." I rehearsed my lines again as I walked down Tooley Street. My funds were too short to take a cab from my makeshift apartment on Vauxhall Road. I had been applying for governess positions for nearly a month, but good positions were hard to come by. Tooley Street was an affluent part of town, so hopefully this would be suitable.
720 Tooley Street was a large cavernous manor. All the other houses on the street had cheerfully lit windows shining out over the London streets. But the house I intended to visit looked dark, cold, and a little damp. I hesitated at the foot of the stairs. A London fog began to creep over the cobblestones and the air grew chilly. I shook off a sense of foreboding and rang the bell.
A well-dressed man, who towered at least seven feet, answered the door. He favored me with a stony glare before speaking.
"What do you want?" He rumbled.
"Good evening sir. I came to answer an ad for a governess. My name is Vanessa Warsley." I answered in a voice that was steady, if not loud. His whole demeanor changed at once.
"Ah, do come in," He smiled broadly, holding the door open for me. "Please forgive my rough greeting, I was reading and I do so hate to be disturbed."
He showed me into a dimly lit study. A small fire crackled on the grate, but gave off little warmth. A newspaper lay open on the table. One of the ads was circled. I could see that it was the same ad I had come to answer, but the date on the paper was October 25, 1904. Exactly a year ago. Mr. Kiones whisked the paper of the desk and into a drawer before I could be sure of the date.
"Your duties here would be quite simple." He began without preamble. "I have a young son who wants looking after. You would spend your time taking care of him, teaching him a bit of French, a bit of Latin. My wife enjoys piano music, and if she should wish you to play a melody or two, I'm sure it would be no imposition. You would have your own room of course, adjoining the nursery. We have a butler, Smith, who is rather deaf, and a cook who has her own home. Your salary would be twenty pounds a month and weekends would be your own." He finished quickly. "Would these terms be acceptable?"
"I…I…" I was a bit flustered. Usually these interviews lasted much longer than a minute, and I had a vague feeling of unease about the whole arrangement. On the other hand, twenty pounds a month was very good money, and I could still see the small mountain of bills on my desk. "I believe that it would be acceptable."
"Excellent!" He gave another broad, empty smile. "I'm afraid my wife and son are away in the country until Friday, so we'll put off introductions until then." He opened the door to the study once again. "Allow me to show you the house."
My opinion of the house was that it was dark, cold, and rather damp. I saw no evidence of anyone else in the house. Even the child's room looked abandoned. I put that down to the absence of Mr. Kiones wife and son.
"And this," he said, opening a door at the end of a corridor, "will be your room."
I just had time to register the fact that the room was totally bare before he shoved me into to the room, slamming the door behind me. There was a metallic click of the key in the lock.
"Good night, Miss Vanessa Warsley." His sinister voice echoed down the corridor.
I scrambled to my feet and tried to force open the door, to no avail. After beating on the door and shouting myself hoarse at the evil creature who had imprisoned me, I began to calm down and examine my surrounding. I had been wrong in thinking that the room was empty. A cot-like bed stood along the wall, half-rotted. A single window opposite the door provided some illumination as my eyes adjusted to the dark.
A small bundle of what looked like clothes lay huddled in a corner. I approached slowly and tried to lift the first item. The skeleton which was wearing those clothes came loose from its final resting place. I consider myself a capable woman, not easily frightened, but this final shock was too much. I shrieked and fainted away.
Ding ding ding ding ding
The sound of a grandfather clock reverberated through the house, awakening me. I awoke all at once, suddenly comprehending. The monster downstairs must have killed the poor soul whose bones now lay in the corner. Perhaps she was even his absent wife. And now the same fate awaited me.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs startled me out of my daze. I stood quickly, looking for an escape. There was none, of course. ~ Except to hide, under the bed like a frightened child. ~ I thought grimly. Then an idea sprung to mind. The bed was rotting to pieces, one of the legs had already fallen off. I snatched it and hefted it like a club. Kiones' steps grew ever closer.
I stood behind the door and waited. It opened suddenly and Kiones strode in, not expecting resistance. I swung the makeshift club, and it splintered over his head. He dropped to the floor with a loud cry, but I didn't stay to see if he had been knocked out.
I ran as fast as I could go, down the stairs and out of the house. The first signs of dawn were beginning to show in the east. I took the first cab I saw straight to Scotland Yard, cab fare be damned.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Did anyone guess the Cyclopes episode? If so, kudos, have cyber-cookie.
Questions, comments, critisicms, complaints? Make your voice heard.
.•´¨`•»¦«•Kerowyn•»¦«•´¨`•.
