Authors Note: Hello again. After much debate, I finally decided to split this story into two parts. I hope you enjoy what's coming next! Be well 😊\
Part 2
6
And so, I close my eyes to old ends,
And open my heart to new beginnings
"This is it. Pull over, please."
The bright yellow taxi pulled up to the furthest end of the cul-de-sac, in the shadow of the great hill that sat before it.
Greta stepped out of the car and slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She was dressed in the drab uniform of an elite private school. A black skirt, shoes and matching black blouse, with a white-collar peaking over the neck of the garment. Long, brown bangs swept past her bright, blue eyes which gazed up and upwards until at last landing upon the great, stone castle at the top.
This was definitely the right place.
"Here. Keep it." She said to the driver while handing him a generous amount of dollar bills.
As the taxi sped off, Greta sighed quietly and began to walk towards the gate. She felt no warm welcome beneath the ghastly stone creature atop of the fallen iron gate, but she had come too far now to turn back.
The trek up the mountain was difficult. Greta had to take many breaks to catch her breath before finally reaching the summit. Seeing the top of the castle through the trees above her was enough to keep her going. Upon reaching the gates just outside of the garden, her pace had slowed to a stop.
She had to pause to admire the grand majesty that towered over her.
It was a truly marvelous sight to behold. Eccentric and mysterious, just like the man who had once lived there.
Taking in an anxious breath, Greta pushed past the gate, finding to her delight many various garden animals before her. She smiled in amusement.
It made her quite happy to see that someone was still upkeeping the grounds, even after all this time.
But she had not come here to admire the topiary. Her reasons for being here were personal.
Hesitating slightly, she gave the front door a knock. A part of her did not expect an answer. But perhaps a servant still lived here, most likely the gardener by the state of things.
Greta paused for good measure. However, when at least a good minute passed, Greta knocked again and waited patiently. She was not nervous. In fact, quite the contrary. She was rather excited to enter the old building.
All of his work had to still be here. She was almost certain of it. And there was just no knowing what she would find.
No comprehending the vast amount of secrets and research that could be counted.
The door remained silent and unyielding in her presence, however. At this, Greta decided to open the door herself.
Pushing it open, the hinges squawked loudly on their ancient hinges. A beam of sunlight shot into the darkness of the castle chamber from outside.
Stepping into the dark, Greta examined the surroundings with an intensely curious gaze. There seemed to be no sign of life here at all.
Had it been completely abandoned?
From the top of the stairs, Edward cautiously poked his head out from behind the upstairs wall. He was awfully surprised to see a young woman standing where these days strangers were too fearful to venture to.
To him, she didn't look a day over Kim's age. Or at least, the age she had been so long ago. And for just the briefest moments, by a trick of the eyes or his heart, Edward believed that she was Kim.
However, the sunlight that was creeping inwards from outside revealed to him that she had locks of brown, not blonde…as Kim had.
A look of disappointment briefly crossed his pale features, feeling pitiful and senseless for having ever believed, even for an instant that it might have been her. Though he was still nonetheless alarmed by another's presence within the castle.
Seeing a shadow on the ground, Greta gave a startled gasp and turned around quickly, only to see that behind her was a large, stone phantom, with long, spindly sharp fingers stretching out from either side of it; the length of the steel staircase railing wrapped around it.
She frowned and took a moment to collect herself.
Her great-uncle certainly had dubious taste in interior décor.
Greta's eyes now landed upon the great silent factory which was adorned with cob webs. Edward's brief resurrection of it had made it look more recently used, however that still did not explain the amount of dust and decay elsewhere.
Her eyes landed on the large book which had been propped up against an easel, by an old and cluttered desk.
With ever-growing fasciation, Greta slowly approached it. Slinging her bag off of her shoulder and placing it down at her feet. She began to slowly flip through the pages, reading every hastily scribbled note with great attention.
Greta smiled softly to herself, beholding the ancient information in her hands like a cherished relic. It had become clear through the notes and drawings that the Inventor who once lived here, her great uncle, had made plans to make an artificial man. In the top right corner of one of the drawings, was a single name quickly scratched onto the parchment in black ink.
EDWARD.
Such a concept was certainly wonderful to imagine and would have no doubt, been a marvelous thing to see upon completion. Sadly, it seemed to her that his plans had never come to fruition. There was no finished man in sight.
It was still a brilliant dream, in any case.
In any case, Greta gently took the large book off of the easel and closed it. She held it very carefully, as though afraid that the old parchment would come undone if she handled it too severely.
However, as her eyes landed upon the window in front of her, she saw the reflection of a human figure in the glass, standing close behind her. A feeling of panic suddenly seized Greta and she let out a small scream of surprise, quickly turning around to face the elusive stranger. However, she had just enough wits about her to keep the book held securely in her hands.
Edward staggered back in a panic, lost his balance and fell over behind the large oven at the end of the conveyor belt. He then disappeared out of sight altogether, slinking away into the dark like a great black spider.
Once Greta had recovered from the shock, she had opened her eyes just enough to see a man in all black creep away into the shadows of the castle chamber. Her mouth still partially hanging open in surprise, she scanned the room for any signs of movement, finding that there was none to be seen.
The shadows in this place were awfully frightening. Perhaps her mind only played a cruel joke on her.
She sighed and slowly collected herself, sweeping a brown lock of hair behind her ear. Still holding the book close to her, Greta slowly walked alongside the cookie conveyor belt, looking in both directions for any signs of life.
"Uh…h…hello?" She called out into the dark, her voice still trembling slightly from the surprise of the encounter.
"Is…is someone there? Look, I'm…. I'm really sorry if I scared you. I just…. I didn't think anyone was still living here." She said earnestly, bending down to check beneath the machinery, but found only more webs and dust.
As she neared the start of the line, she had nearly given up the effort of a search, chalking up what she saw to simply a deception of her eyes within such a dark place.
However, a distinct snipping sound kept her interest within the chamber. As she slowly walked around one of the sphere-like machines, she found Edward kneeling down in the corner, in between the wall and the machine, trembling and snipping his scissor-like hands nervously.
He had buried his head down into his lap. In this moment, Edward looked very much like a child, who believed that if he could not see the stranger which had entered his home, then she could not see him.
Greta had not yet seen the sharp blades where Edward's hands ought to have been. She quietly cleared her throat and tried instead to get his attention.
"Um…hello?" She asked carefully.
Like a marionette which had suddenly been pulled up by a string, Edward's head shot upwards to look at Greta. The face which stared back at her startled her and she took a small step backwards. The dark, almost black eyes looking at her from their sunken, purple sockets was disturbing enough. But Greta's eyes inevitably looked down in terror at the long, sharp, metal talons where hands were supposed to be. It was unusual and frightening all at once.
"Those are your…" She began in a hushed and incredulously voice but couldn't quite bring herself to finish. As she stared in apprehension at the creature bound in leather before her, it suddenly occurred to her that he looked very familiar.
Raising an eyebrow slightly, Greta slowly opened the Inventor's book and flipped to the page she had stopped on.
There was an elegant drawing of the exact man that was crouching in the dark in front of her. More or less complete, save for one thing.
Greta looked up from the book and back at the unfinished man in utter amazement. With hesitation, she slowly took a step towards him.
"Is your name…. Edward?"