Locked Within: Part 1/2

A Horror Story

It is with great sadness that I resign myself to spend my remaining days within these walls. In this room, I will breathe my last. I dare not plead for leniency or respite. My fate is just retribution for the agony inflicted upon my kin. Branded as mad, the world will forever cast me aside. Yet, if I am insane, why do the recollections persist, unyielding to time's passage or inquiry? 

In the confines of the madhouse, obtaining pen and paper proved a daunting task. Those accused of my transgressions are barred from sharp implements. Deemed too perilous by the physicians, such privileges elude me. Yet, ere my demise, I must inscribe the truths as memory serves. Lest these writing tools fall prey to the vigilant staff's confiscation.

Three years have passed since I was a free man. Three years since I had a beautiful wife and a young son to take over my antique business. I can see my life as it once was as if it were only yesterday.

‘Clifton?’ I called my butler and the pad of brisk footsteps on the carpet followed.

Clifton appeared in the doorway to my library. ‘Excellent choice with your attire this morning, Sir. How can I help?’

I had chosen a fine suit made from the finest fabric for I was in a fine mood. Although, the suit that was being tailored at that very moment would render my current garb mere tatters by comparison. I had to look the part if I were to close the impending deal. For the forthcoming Monday that loomed promised the pinnacle of my existence. ‘The most important day of my life is coming next Monday, one week from today.’

Clifton stood straight-backed, like the books that surrounded us, unsure if he was expected to do anything or if there were more words to come. ‘All will be fine,’ he offered tentatively.

‘The guests,’ I continued, ‘that I’ll be entertaining are also very important. Big names in the antique business.’ I leaned in and said, ‘What’s more, they all like to trade in rare jewels and stones.’

‘Ah,’ he said.

‘This is not just a big day for my family, but for my staff as well. You!’ I grinned at him.

‘Ah.’ He didn’t know what to do. ‘Thank you, Sir.’

My future wealth would be determined by a successful evening. The financial security of my family for generations to come could be secured in one week's time. It was important he knew how much it meant to me, and how much his own job depended on everything going in my favour.

‘I need you to be nothing short of exemplary, Clifton. These kinds of opportunities come along but once in a lifetime. And what a story it would be for you.’ I gave a grand gesture with both hands outstretched in his direction. ‘You’ve been with me from the beginning. This deal will make my house one of the most respected in the county, and you will be the Estate Steward.’

The corners of his mouth threatened a smile. Then he was in control of himself again. He might be considered too casual if he smiles too much at the guests on the big night. If I was testing him, he’d have passed. ‘That is most kind, Sir.’

‘You’ll need to be well-groomed. Clean-shaven. No hiding behind your patchy facial hair.’ I held his eye with a playful smile. ‘I’ll need you to make sure the maid takes extra care and that she goes above and beyond to make the house look its most inviting. And that the cook has all of the ingredients on this list.’ I pointed to a piece of paper on my desk.

‘Primp yourself meticulously,’ I instructed, locking gazes with a teasing grin. ‘No scruffiness to hide behind,’ I jested. ‘Ensure the maid tends to every nook, transcending the ordinary. And the cook must procure all ingredients listed here.’ My finger traced over the paper resting on the desk.

‘Yes, Sir.’ He scooped up the list and slid it into his pocket. ‘Will that be all?’

‘For now.’ As he strode out of the room and down the hall the sound of his footsteps faded away, replaced with the sound of my wife and son taking their seats for breakfast. I took a quick look at the shelf where I had concealed the stone, hidden among the books in plain sight. Yet, unseen. Then I went into the dining room to break my fast.

Neither my wife nor my son saw me enter the room and I didn’t announce myself. She always looks lovely and this morning was no different. Not a hair out of place. That special item I wanted to sell was not the only time in my life that I had had a stroke of luck. If I hadn’t left an antique shop on the other side of Violshire later than planned, I wouldn’t have had to hop on a horse-drawn omnibus. It was on this journey that we met and my courting her began.

We married young, but she could see I was driven. The business was only six months old at this point. I believed in it and she believed in me. It took two years but she made me the happiest man on earth the day she gave me a son. I smiled as I watched him tuck a napkin into his collar.

‘Excuse me, Sir,’ the maid said from behind. She carried a tray with tea, milk, sugar and orange juice over to the table.

‘Father!’ His eyes light up every morning when he sees me.

‘Good morning, Son.’ He gave me a hearty embrace. ‘I hope you’re hungry?’

‘He’s a growing boy, when is he not?’ my wife asked rhetorically and kissed my cheek. We smiled at one another for a long moment and I squeezed her hand.

My son sat at the table and I pulled out a chair for my wife to join him. ‘Have you chosen your dress for next week?’

‘Of course. It will be ready to pick up before the end of the week.’

‘Well?’

‘Well, what?’

She was aware of my curiosity about the dress. I yearned to envision her in it. Would the neckline plunge? Would she opt for an updo to showcase her neck and jewels? Long sleeves or bare arms? The hue remained a mystery, yet she discerned my every query.

‘You will have to wait until I descend the stairs wearing it. You will see when everyone else sees.’

‘I think you will look marvellous.’ My son said like a true gentleman.

‘I’m sure she will, Son. You know how important this dinner is, don’t you?’ I asked in a slightly sterner tone.

‘Yes, Father. I will be on my best behaviour and will only speak well of the guests.’

‘Good,’ I smiled at him.

I don’t even remember the maid pouring the tea and milk for I was so engrossed in talking to my family. I sipped it and let my mind wander. Inevitably, my mind wandered to the item I had concealed in the library.

After we had eaten breakfast, I checked the pocket watch on my waistcoat and went to the library to attend to some business. Maybe it was my curiosity, maybe the item drew me in with some unspeakable forces of the supernatural. The shelf with the book where I had hidden the item had such a pull that I could not resist a look. Only the briefest of glances. I wanted to take the weight of it in my palm.

I locked the library door behind me. I trust my wife and my staff completely. My son might let the young explorer in him take over though. Besides, anyone could give in to temptation.

It was two weeks ago when I discovered the stone out in the woodland. Business was going well so I took the afternoon off to have a stroll in the woods. Something from within a knot of roots belonging to an old Yew tree caught my eye. I strode through the bracken at the side of the path, covering the short distance to the base of the tree.

The pebble-shaped stone drew me into its aura. So arresting to my peripheral vision was this aura, I was entirely unaware of the surrounding area. A matte-black colour formed the majority of the strange stone. But, upon closer inspection, a dark green swirled beneath its surface. An internal ecosystem. Life. 

There was no doubt that I had made the discovery of a lifetime. At that moment, I knew my life would change forever. I wrapped it in a handkerchief and hid it in my inside pocket. The forest was coming back into my consciousness now and a careful scan around assured me I was alone. Nobody had seen me, nobody knew what I had.

When I arrived home, my first act was to hide it. I chose the library because it has the least amount of traffic. It is unlikely someone would stumble upon it there. And inside a book, almost impossible. 

I was careful not to choose a valuable book, I am in the business of trading valuable items after all. But, that was not the limit to my cunning. The book I chose was on a shelf at waist height. Not too high, not too low. Not a soul would think to look for the item inside a book, let alone a book positioned where this one was. I chose a plain book of average dimensions. Quite unremarkable in every way.

I meticulously separated the middle third of the book's pages with a makeshift divider of paper. With precision, my pocket knife outlined the mysterious object. Delicately, I carved through the middle pages until I reached the dividing paper. I cast the scraps of paper into the fire and watched the flames consume them. within the book's heart was the perfect concealment for the stone.

This is where it remained while I went about my business, thinking of the biggest names in the industry coming to observe it with their own eyes, to appraise it, and to bid on it.

After breakfast, I couldn’t help but look at it. I slid the book out a few inches with my index finger, listening to the soft scrape of the cover moving across the wooden shelf. I placed it on my desk, open at the desired page. The stone would seem insignificant to the untrained eye. Between my thumb and forefinger, I held it up to the window, but no light passed through its density.

A fleeting movement in the garden brought my attention back to my surroundings. In my hands, I held my future and someone was in the garden spying on me. If I didn’t feel as though I was under threat, I wouldn’t have acted as I did next. I frantically tried to return the stone to the book, and in my haste, I knocked it to the floor. Unsure if my stone and its hiding place were compromised, I scrambled on my knees, put the stone back and stuffed the book into my pocket.

I crawled to the window and stole a look around the garden using the long curtains as cover. Nobody on the lawn. Nobody hidden in the trees. No sign of the figure I know I saw. Maybe it was simply a bird, a squirrel. Maybe it was fleeing.

‘Are you well, Sir? I heard a bang.’ The door rattled in its frame, rousing fresh nerves before I realised Clifton was trying to help. 

‘I- I’m fine.’ I was trying to convince myself I was fine. I risked another look outside. Nothing. Up until now, I was unconscious of the fact that I was clutching the book over the outside of my pocket. My knuckles ached when I released it from my grip.

‘Clifton?’

‘Yes?’

‘Are we expecting anyone? Should anyone be out in the garden?’

‘No, Sir. The gardeners are not due just yet.’

‘Okay. You are dismissed.’

My thoughts were cloudy for the rest of the day, so distracted was I by the unsettling thought that someone was watching me. That someone wanted to take what I had found. I poked at the food on my plate that evening.

‘Did you hear me?’ The tone of my wife’s voice told me she had been talking, and I, not listening. ‘I said it’s green.’

I turned to her, smiled and put my hand on hers. ‘What is?’

‘The dress I’ll be wearing next Monday. It’s green. Your favourite colour.’

I was more present then, than I had been a moment before. Though no less unsettled. Nevertheless, I couldn’t ignore my wife. What kind of example would that be setting in front of my son? I must teach him how men behave.

‘The colour of your eyes, too.’ We held one another's gaze, but then I saw it again. I could see over her shoulder into the garden beyond. Undoubtedly there was movement. My wife knew something was not right, for I had let the fright show on my face.

‘What is it,’ she asked.

I ignored her. As a man, it is my duty to protect those closest to me. ‘Clifton!’ I shouted, loosing a string of spittle from my mouth. The trespasser could go to any length to gain entry so I began to lock the windows and draw the curtains.

‘What’s he doing, Mother?’ My son said.

‘You’re scaring us. Whatever is the matter?’ My wife tried to sound firm, but I could tell her resolve was withering.

Clifton flung the door open. Before he could say anything I ordered him to make sure all the windows and doors downstairs were secured. Then I sent him upstairs to secure all entry points.

I extinguished all the candles which would have betrayed my position to anyone looking in from the fading light outside and peered through a crack in the curtain. The neat carpet of lawn was deep emerald, though it was alive. Beneath its surface, the earth rumbled.

End of part 1.

READ PART 2 HERE

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