Condemned
In the land of dreams known to some as The Dreaming, there is a sub-Dreaming where those who permanently reside within this dream world, but are not dreams themselves, go when they are asleep. It is a place that is just as unreal and just as darkly lit.
One night, Cain, the caretaker of The House of Mystery, found himself in this place after soundly drifting off to sleep, snug in his big, four poster bed. All of a sudden he was standing in nothing but his bedroom slippers, nightgown, and cap, outside in the cemetery where his house was normally located. Except, as he looked around himself now, he could not see his house anywhere. His brother's house, The House of Secrets, was where it was supposed to be, but across the way from it, where Cain's house normally stood, there was nothing. All he saw was gravestones, silhouetted in the moonlight. One in particular stood out to him; it was in the shape of a woman, a weeping woman, but then the figure moved and Cain realized it was an actual, living person standing there in the distance on the plot of land where his house should have been.
"Who in the world?" Cain thought to himself.
He started walking in the woman's direction, compelled towards the shadowy figure, intent on solving the mystery of who would be out here all alone at night and where his house had gone to. Maybe this woman had something to do with it. As he approached her, the woman began to move away from him, still cloaked in shadow. Cain could not make out any details of her appearance, including her identity, but he pursued her none the less in an almost hypnotic trance. The closer he got to her, the farther she seemed to get away from him. He began to run, and so did she, until he was chasing her out of the cemetery towards a nearby cliff that overlooked a sea of dew. When the woman reached the edge of the cliff she stopped and Cain finally caught up to her. She turned, and he saw her in all her glory, illuminated by the light of the moon.
She was a short woman with an open face and wide hips, though her arms, hands, and neck were very thin and dainty. She had skin the color of mahogany and hair that looked to be a dark grey color, even though she seemed no older than thirty. It was wavy and thick and cut in a way that resembled a roof top. She wore a quasi-Victorian looking dress with short, puffy sleeves. The dress was mostly red with a black swirly pattern on it that made it look like old wallpaper.
"Crimson and coal," Cain thought to himself. "The color of blood and the color of darkness."
From what Cain could see of her feet that were sticking out from under the long dress, it appeared as if her shoes were made of wood. A bunch of little slats held together with shellac like floorboards. Around her neck she wore a simple chain, and on it, an old brass key. But what made her most distinctive and unusual looking was that her eyes, the ones that now regarded Cain with a mix of affection and anger, were a golden yellow color that seemed to glow in the night, like candlelight flickering in the windows of an old house.
"Who are you?" asked Cain.
The woman turned away from him and looked out at the sea. Far off in the distance, a small boat shaped like a shoe could be seen sailing across the water.
"Isn't it rich?" the woman began to sing. "Are we a pair? Me here at last on the ground, you in mid air." Her voice was soft and sad, with the husky tone that comes either with age or a whole lot of smoking.
"Wait," said Cain, as comprehension dawned on him. "I know who you are. I know exactly who you are. You can never hide from me for long."
There was a silence and then the woman continued to sing. "Isn't it bliss? Don't you approve? One who keeps tearing around, and one who can't move..."
Cain had had enough. He reached forward and forcefully grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around. She gave him a look of absolute hatred and loathing that made him release her and take a step back. Then her expression quickly changed to a loving smile and she stepped towards him with her hands outstretched. She took his hands in hers and began to pull him into a spin.
"What is this? What are you doing?" asked Cain.
"I've never been human before," said the woman. "Let's throw ourselves off the cliff and see if we shatter."
Cain pulled himself away from her and the two stopped spinning.
"You've been human before," he said, straightening his small, round glasses that had come askew. "Echo, and then Harry Bailey. Remember them?"
"Echo was just a vessel I inhabited," said the woman, "And Harry Bailey was a person I created from myself. Like Adam created Eve from his rib. He's no more me than you are your mother. But this..." she ran her hands up and down her body, "This is me. I am The House of Mystery."
Cain watched her enjoy her body.
"But you can call me Misty," she said, running her fingers up through her hair and then stretching her arms to the sky.
"What is this about?" asked Cain. "Why now? Why all of a sudden? And how?"
"It's as much of a mystery to me as it is to you," she said. "I assume that the Lord Shaper did this. Maybe it's something he thought we needed. To relate to each other on an even playing field."
"Nonsense," Cain scoffed. "We relate to each other fine as house and caretaker. You always find a way to make your intentions known and I have no problem telling you just what I'm thinking."
"Tell me what you're thinking now," she said as she began to move away from him and away from the cliff.
"I'm thinking that this is exactly how I always imagined you would be as a person: vague, aloof, and loony," said Cain.
"Mysterious," said Misty, biting her lip.
She backed away from the caretaker and began heading towards a thicket of trees, then she turned and began to run towards it.
"There you go, running away again," said Cain, hurt and malice in his voice. He felt like he wanted to shout a million nasty things after her. To curse her and tell her everything he always wanted to, but he didn't. Instead he stayed silent and just followed her.
He followed her into the trees, which very quickly became a small forest. Deeper and deeper she led him in silence, until finally, after the forest became so thick and dense that hardly any light could come through the trees, they came to a clearing where she stopped. Cain caught up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. She put her hand on his and turned.
"We always end up together again, don't we?" she asked. It wasn't a question so much as a realization.
"I suppose we do," said Cain. It was a truth he had never really considered.
"No matter where, or when, you always come back to me, and I always let you back in." Said Misty.
Cain drew away from her and began to chuckle in a nasty way.
"Why do you laugh?" asked Misty.
"Because, you make yourself sound like some kind of victim," said Cain, angrily. "Like you're some saint who puts up with me. Let's not forget that it was you who burned yourself down that one time. You gave up and left me, while I did all I could to try and save you. And it was also you who ran away to god-knows-where and let all those morons run around inside of you like some cheap pub. You let Elvira, Fig Keele, and Lotus Blossom McWhatshername have your key and even created Harry Bailey all to spite me and make me look like I was a bad caretaker."
He had wanted to say all those things out loud for the longest time, and now that he had, he felt better. Misty looked at him with an unfathomable expression.
"You're not a bad caretaker," she finally said. "You're a bad person."
That normally wouldn't have bothered Cain. He had heard it many times before from friends and relatives alike. Hell, he even believed it of himself. After all, he was the first murderer. He just didn't expect to hear it from The House and it made him feel a tiny bit of pain somewhere deep inside. He squinted his eyes at Misty, daring her to hurt him further.
"That's what I love about you," she said.
That surprised him.
"I just wish you weren't so neglectful." she added.
Cain snorted in contempt.
"Neglectful," he repeated. "You couldn't ask for a more attentive caretaker. I clean your floors, I fill your furnace, I make repairs..."
"Maintenance," Misty said, dismissively. "Routine maintenance. I need more. And I'm not the only one you neglect."
She had lost her air of mystery and dreaminess now and was talking to him like a real woman with real feelings.
"What the hell are you talking about?" demanded Cain.
"I burned myself down that time, not only because of the neglect you showed me, but because of the neglect you showed Jumella. Remember her? Your wife?" Misty said, angrily.
"Do not bring her into this," Cain said, pointing his finger at her.
"And as for the time I ran away," Misty went on, "I needed stories."
"I tell stories all the time!" Cain shouted in rage.
"The same old tired stories you've been telling for ages!" Misty shouted back. "I wanted fresh, new, exciting stuff. I wanted stories about far off places, adventure, weird science, horror and mystery. I wanted to get away and see new places and new people."
"I could have gone with you," Cain said, quietly. "I could have given you all those things if I'd known they were what you wanted."
"And I needed to get away from you," Misty said.
That hit Cain right in his slimy little heart. He had always believed it was true, but never wanted it confirmed.
"I needed to get away from you, just like you needed to get away from me that time when you went away for so long and didn't come back. That's when I let Elvira in. I needed companionship. I needed a caretaker and she was there for me."
For a moment both of them looked at each other with bitterness on their faces, then Misty spoke again.
"Where were you for all that time, anyway?" she said.
"That's none of your business," said Cain, simply. "I don't owe you an explanation. You're a house, I don't owe you anything."
"I'm your shelter," Misty said, her eyes suddenly beginning to tear up. "You owe me everything."
Cain's cold heart began to melt slightly as he watched Misty's eyes fill with tears, and his anger also began to subside.
"Oh no, I'm flooding," she said, as she began to cry. She looked worried and confused.
Without thinking, Cain went over to her and took her into his arms. She pressed her face to his chest and sobbed, quietly. For Cain, It was weird to be holding a woman who was also his house. She was like a stranger and an old friend to him both at the same time. Cain was never very good with people, particularly crying women, but for some reason, now, he knew just what to do. He began to sing to her softly.
"Don't you love a farce? My fault, I fear. I thought that you'd want what I want, sorry, my dear."
Misty looked up at Cain and smiled, though her face was still wet with tears.
"You know me so well," she said.
"We know each other," he said, and smiled back at her. "But I think there are some things that we will also never know about each other, things that will always be mysteries and will have to stay that way. It's just the way it is."
Misty nodded and gave a sad sigh in agreement.
"I don't like being human," she said, putting her head back on his chest. "It hurts. If I have to creak, and moan, and decay I'd rather do it as a house so I don't have to feel it."
She suddenly pulled away from Cain and began to wipe at her face with her hand. Cain felt awkward standing there in his night clothes without a handkerchief or something to offer her. He reached up and pulled his night cap off his head and handed that to her, apologetically. She took it and dabbed at her eyes.
"Before I'm done with this body, though," she said to him after she had dried all her tears, "There's something I want to do with it and I'll need your help."
Cain gave her an uncomfortable, questioning look.
"I want to dance with you," she said.
"Here?" he asked, looking around the dark clearing. "There's no music and I can barely see."
"I know somewhere we can go," she said, and took his hands in hers again. "Close your eyes."
Cain reluctantly did as she said and immediately felt himself being spun around blindly by her. After a few seconds, the spinning became too much for him and he opened his eyes to find that, somehow, they were not in the woods anymore, but in a huge, baroque style ballroom waltzing to Largo from Shostakovich's Symphony No. 5, which was being played by some unseen source. Cain looked around himself and saw that he and Misty were the only ones in the room, and then he looked at Misty herself and saw that she was now dressed completely different. She was wearing an elaborate white gown that looked like it was made from curtains. Her hair was done up high and fancy and she wore a porcelain mask on her face which was painted orange, green, and white. It was a ghastly looking mask that he recognized at once as one of the many strange artifacts that belonged inside The House of Mystery.
"You'll need a mask too," said Misty, and her voice sounded muffled and far away behind the mask.
Cain absentmindedly reached his hand to his face and realized he was already holding a mask. It was white with black swirls on it and had been a mask he wore not too long ago as part of a disguise. Cain then looked down at himself and saw that he was no longer in his nightclothes, but in a black, velvet tuxedo and lacy white shirt.
"I... Where..." he said, but then just decided to put the mask on and go with it.
"I think we're in the Lord Shaper's palace," said Misty, looking around. "But who knows."
She put her head on Cain's shoulder and the two of them danced around the room together for a while before Misty finally spoke again.
"Pretty music," she said.
"It is," Cain agreed. "Although I do prefer Mozart's Requiem, but I guess you can't really slow dance to that."
"You know, I remember before you came," said Misty. "Back when I was just a way station between worlds. Before you were commissioned to be my caretaker. I remember what it was like back then. Lonely."
Cain listened to her, wondering if that was all, or if she was going somewhere with this.
"You were my first," she said. "And you'll always be my favorite."
The two of them continued to dance in silence for a moment, letting that just sit out there in the open. Then Cain finally said, "Do you remember after the fire, after you were rebuilt and I came back to you. I told you a secret."
Misty looked up at Cain and then slowly removed her mask. She didn't say anything, but her eyes told him that she did remember. She remembered everything. Cain removed his mask too.
"It's still true," he said, softly.
Misty smiled and bowed her head and then pressed herself against Cain, who hugged her tightly as they both swayed to the music.
"I suppose we're just condemned to be together forever," said Misty.
"I suppose so," said Cain.
They both closed their eyes and held each other as they danced and danced for what felt like ages, and then all of a sudden they stopped.
"I have to go now," said Misty.
"What?" said Cain. He had almost forgotten that this was not the reality it was supposed to be. It had felt so right, and he was now angry at himself for getting fooled into forgetting.
"I... I guess all good things must end," he said, and then thought to himself, "That was a stupid cliche. Bad things end too, you dope."
Misty just looked at him lovingly with her glowing eyes.
Then she stabbed him.
Stuck a small, steel dagger right in his side and pulled it back out again.
"What the hell?!" shouted Cain, as he grabbed his bleeding wound. "No one can hurt me. I bear The Mark!"
"I am no one," said Misty, simply. Then she leaned in and whispered in Cain's ear as he was bent over in pain. "Never be fooled by my kindness or let it lull you into a false sense of security. I love you and I will put up with a lot, but I am also old and dark and can only tolerate so much. Never forget that."
Cain suddenly awoke with a start and sat up. He was back in his nice, soft bed and was wearing his nightclothes again. Gregory, his pet gargoyle, was laying at the foot of the bed and glanced up to give Cain a bored, but inquisitive look.
"Whadtha?" Cain said.
Sunlight was coming in through the broken shutters on his bedroom windows and Cain realized it was morning and he had just been dreaming. He sat there for a moment trying to remember what it was he had been dreaming about and why he was covered in sweat. He quickly reached down and touched his side, although, he wasn't quite sure why. Everything was fine. He continued to sit there, breathing heavily for several minutes, and then he began to look around himself at the walls, the windows, the ceiling above him, at the very house surrounded him and an overwhelming feeling of dread fell upon him and a chill ran down his spine. He hadn't had a good nightmare in ages. This was going to be a good day, he thought.
The End