"Alright," I said. I looked at him again. He looked like such a
gentleman but wanted me to address him so informally. "May I ask you
something Mon-Erik?"
"Of course Christian," he replied.
"A couple of things really. How is it that you know who I am, and are you the one who brought me here, wherever here is?" I asked.
"Why don't you come out here," he indicated the door that had been locked earlier, "and I will answer you questions."
I followed him out of the bedroom and into a larger room that may have been the sitting room. There was a divan against one wall that was flanked by two enormous bookcases. I looked at some of the titles and I noticed that he had all of Shakespeare's works.
"Do you like Shakespeare?" he asked.
"Oh yes," I replied still looking at the books.
"Do you have a favorite?" he continued.
"I think I would have to say Othello," I answered.
"Really? That's my favorite too. Although I do quite enjoy Macbeth," he commented.
"Yes, me too," I said absently. "You read medical books?"
"One has to be prepared for everything," he stated and moved to stand beside me. "I prefer mental health and psychology books to physical health books however. The human mind is a fascinating subject. I've found that I can read people even if I never speak to them."
I turned to look at him. He was watching me with great intensity. His golden eyes seemed to glow. I blinked suddenly as I realized his eyes looked just like mine. I turned my attention back to the books. For some reason I could no longer look at him.
"Is something wrong Christian?" he asked. I sighed, remembering his comment about being able to read people.
"My mother will be worried about me," I stated.
"No doubt she will be. I can let her know you are with me if you like," he said.
"What I would like is for you to answer my questions. I know you brought me here, but how do you know me?"
He sighed. I looked at him again. He had his arms folded across his chest and was staring at the floor. He looked back up at me. His eyes seemed to be filled with a warmth that looked unnatural for him.
"Yes, I did bring you here, but only because I wished to meet you," he stated.
"But how do you know who I am?" I asked again. He tipped his head to the side and thought a moment.
"You could consider me an acquaintance of your family," he stated.
"I've never heard of you before," I said.
"That's because your father hates me. He's actually jealous of me I think," he replied.
"Of course Christian," he replied.
"A couple of things really. How is it that you know who I am, and are you the one who brought me here, wherever here is?" I asked.
"Why don't you come out here," he indicated the door that had been locked earlier, "and I will answer you questions."
I followed him out of the bedroom and into a larger room that may have been the sitting room. There was a divan against one wall that was flanked by two enormous bookcases. I looked at some of the titles and I noticed that he had all of Shakespeare's works.
"Do you like Shakespeare?" he asked.
"Oh yes," I replied still looking at the books.
"Do you have a favorite?" he continued.
"I think I would have to say Othello," I answered.
"Really? That's my favorite too. Although I do quite enjoy Macbeth," he commented.
"Yes, me too," I said absently. "You read medical books?"
"One has to be prepared for everything," he stated and moved to stand beside me. "I prefer mental health and psychology books to physical health books however. The human mind is a fascinating subject. I've found that I can read people even if I never speak to them."
I turned to look at him. He was watching me with great intensity. His golden eyes seemed to glow. I blinked suddenly as I realized his eyes looked just like mine. I turned my attention back to the books. For some reason I could no longer look at him.
"Is something wrong Christian?" he asked. I sighed, remembering his comment about being able to read people.
"My mother will be worried about me," I stated.
"No doubt she will be. I can let her know you are with me if you like," he said.
"What I would like is for you to answer my questions. I know you brought me here, but how do you know me?"
He sighed. I looked at him again. He had his arms folded across his chest and was staring at the floor. He looked back up at me. His eyes seemed to be filled with a warmth that looked unnatural for him.
"Yes, I did bring you here, but only because I wished to meet you," he stated.
"But how do you know who I am?" I asked again. He tipped his head to the side and thought a moment.
"You could consider me an acquaintance of your family," he stated.
"I've never heard of you before," I said.
"That's because your father hates me. He's actually jealous of me I think," he replied.