CHAPTER TWENTY TWO: Night's Captive

Edmund opened his eyes to darkness and pain. He was freezing and his head felt like it had been used in a game of Kick the Can. After a moment of disorientation, he realized where he must be. He’d been in the secret room, down in the cellar, about to leave with the box, and...that apparition tried to warn him. Edmund remembered someone shouting at him, and eyes that seemed to burn into his brain, being shoved backwards and then…nothing but black. He must still be there, lying in the cellar…

He tried to raise his hand up to assess the damage to his skull, but was shocked to find that he couldn’t move.

Oh god…did I break my spine? Am I paralyzed? Am I just going to rot down here on the stone floor till somebody finds my stinking corpse? Or till that…ghost comes back?

No, he realized to his immense relief; he could turn his head, so his back was alright. But it seemed as though his arms and legs were restrained, somehow, and he was lying on top of a slab or table. Suddenly he became aware of a sickly sweet odor pervading the darkness around him. It was the stench of rotting flowers – marigolds, he thought, and the smell was getting stronger. Struggling against his bonds, he twisted his head to the left. He could make out a glimmer of greenish light below him – maybe coming from that flashlight he’d dropped? As he looked closer, the light began to coalesce into a mist. It slowly rose, and he could actually feel it creeping up over his body like a live thing. The cloying fog seemed to wrap itself around him, holding him fast, entering into his mouth and nostrils so that he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t…

The mist parted, and a face appeared before him. It was the face of a beautiful raven-haired woman with blazing green eyes and a bewitching smile. Her body, at least as much as Edmund could see, was just as lovely, wrapped in filmy green gauze that actually glowed.

Edmund gulped a deep breath and hitched a sigh of relief. The woman must be some friend of the family - someone who stayed overnight from the party. “Oh thank god!" he said. "Look, er…Miss? I must have passed out. My head is killing me. Listen, will you, can you help me? I seem to be…um…tied up here…”

The woman looked deeply into his eyes, and spoke in a low, purring whisper.

“Relax, my sweet Edmund.”

“You know my name? Great, I –"

“It’s ever so much nicer when you don’t struggle. Just let me take what I need and…”

With that, she lowered her lips to his and kissed him deeply. Powerless, Edmund felt his body responding even as his brain was screaming at him, trying to tell him there was something wrong, he had to get away, get away now, but a blazing fire seared through his veins and a groan of pleasure escaped his lips. Finally, the woman pulled away and gave him a languid smile.

Edmund tried to laugh. “Boy, you really know how to say hello, don’t you? Whew! Look, you really have me at a disadvantage here. I’d be able to really show you my appreciation if you’d just…FUCKING UNTIE ME. Now, this is somebody’s idea of a joke, right?"

The woman gave a laugh that sounded like shattering glass, and suddenly her face didn’t seem quite so lovely.

“No, dear man,” she murmured. “This is no joke. And I’m no hallucination. But I can do tricks. Watch.”

Helpless to do otherwise, Edmund did as she commanded, only to feel his insides twist in fear. The woman’s face was beginning to change. It was shifting before his eyes, distorting into hideous, something…inhuman.

“What...the hell are you?” he managed to gasp.

“Just call me…your Dream Girl." She smiled widely, and her lips peeled back to reveal jagged rows of needle-sharp teeth.

“N—nooo…” Edmund moaned, unwilling to believe what he was seeing.

Yellowish-green ichor began to drip down the creature’s chin, and a long black tongue snaked out of her mouth to lick it away. Edmund felt his stomach heave. He frantically thrashed against his bonds, but he couldn’t look away.

“Yum. Yum. Yum,” the creature said in a voice now harsh and guttural. “But wait! There’s more!”

Edmund watched in disgust and terror as the creature’s flawless white skin started to moulder and flake and her emerald-green eyes shriveled back into her skull. Tiny grey maggots squirmed out of her eye sockets to pour down her now-sunken cheeks, and then, horribly, onto Edmund’s face and chest.

“OH GOD NO PLEASE GOD PLEASE GOD NO-”

“Silly boy,” she rasped. “Don’t you know that God stopped taking your calls a long time ago?”

She cackled madly as Edmund screamed out his agony and his mind began to shatter. He could actually feel the worms burrowing into his skin, digging their way into his veins, crawling up, up into his brain as the thing lowered its awful mouth to his once more.

*******************

Edmund opened his eyes to darkness and pain. He was lying on his back and his head felt as if it would split in two. His heart hammered in his chest, and he could smell the stink of panic pouring off his body. Gasping for air, he lurched up, ripping and tearing away at whatever it was confining him.

“NO!” he screamed, batting frantically at his chest and face. “FUCK FUCK FUCK GET THEM OFF ME GET THEM OFF ME. “

“Stop it, Edmund,” a calm voice ordered. “You’re giving me a headache.”

“WHAT? Who the-“ Edmund heard a click, and suddenly he could see again. He was in a white room. He looked down and saw he was sitting up in a bed, the sweat-drenched tatters of his bed sheets still clenched in his fists. Across the room, bathed in the warm glow of a floor lamp, sat a man in an armchair, a look of amused disdain on his patrician features.

“P-Professor?”

“None other.” Carandini leaned back and steepled his long fingers. “My, but you do carry on. Good thing they are so understaffed here, or someone may have actually responded to your screams. Then we wouldn’t be able to have a nice private chat.”

“Oh thank freaking Christ, it was just a nightmare.” Edmund gave a shaky laugh and blew out a long sigh of relief, even as he rubbed his face again briskly just to make sure he was awake and in one piece. “I’m in the hospital?”

He saw a glass of water on the bedside table next to him, and grabbed it. Downing its contents in one long gulp, Edmund prayed it would dispel the awful taste he could swear still lingered in his mouth.

“You’ve been here since Saturday,” said Carandini. “It is now Monday night. Apparently you’ve a concussion. Although what there was in your skull to concuss is beyond me.”

Edmund winced at the admonition along with the throbbing pain in his head. As he set the glass back down, he tried to keep his hand from shaking. “Uh, thanks. Thanks for checking on me, Professor.”

“I’m not here to bring you a fruit basket, you cretin,” snapped Carandini. “You’ve been a very bad boy, Edmund. Here I rush half way across the world as soon as I receive your telegram. Ah! I say to myself. Edmund writes, ‘I’m in.’ That must mean that he has things well in hand; he’s laid the ground work, he’s gained their trust, he is nestled firmly in the bosom of la famiglia, he is one step away from finding what I need! But what do I discover? You are barely tolerated by the family, the staff either distrusts or loathes you, and you’ve been studiously avoiding me ever since I arrived. Everywhere I am, it seems you are not. I am plagued by children and women and bloody masquerade balls, unable to concentrate on my real work. And then, when I was finally able to run you to ground last week, you say to me ‘Oh I am so sorry, Professor, I thought I had found what you are looking for, but alas, the blueprints must be wrong.’ So, imagine my surprise when dear Veronica came running to me in a panic, saying she’d found you lying in a pool of blood clutching…this.”

Carandini reached into his breast pocket and drew out the iron amulet, letting it dangle before him on its heavy silver chain. The two dark ruby eyes on the face of the amulet caught the light and glittered accusingly at Edmund.

Edmund’s nightmare had receded, only to be replaced by a new anxiety – he knew exactly what the professor was capable of doing when angry. Damn it! He’d sent that telegram when he’d had Alexandra right where he wanted her, when he thought that he had that little slut Annie under his thumb and he’d assumed Megan was ready to start up right where they’d left off. Then it all started to fall apart. If only he’d had more time –

“Yeah, I…I had just found it, Professor.” Edmund said, trying to think quickly. “I was about to bring it to you, I swear, but this guy, he came in just as I was coming out of the basement – I don’t know who the hell he was, but he screamed at me and then, I think he must have been drunk or something because he shoved me really hard and I-”

“Shut. Up. You are woefully transparent, Edmund. I believe the second part of your story, but the last thing on your mind was showing me what you’d found. I believe you had every intention of pawning it for as much as you could get. Do you have any idea what this is?”

Edmund could only shake his head.

“It is the very proof that I was looking for, you fool!” Carandini hissed angrily, his eyes glittering like the amulet’s stones. “Roderick’s book is in that house. And this amulet is the key to finding it!”

“Well, that’s…great!” Edmund gave a tentative laugh. “Isn’t it? I mean, as soon as I can get out of here, I’ll –“

“Edmund, Edmund,” sighed Carandini. “It is not that simple. You have broken faith with me. I promised you long ago that if you could control your own selfish impulses I’d take care of you. I’d restore to you some of what my cousins took from your family.” Carandini carefully placed the amulet back in his pocket and stood, then walked slowly towards the bed until he was right next to it.

“But you disappointed me.” Carandini stared down at Edmund with an icy gaze. “And I’m afraid I can no longer trust you completely.”

“I swear to you, Professor–“

“I’m sorry, Edmund.” Carandini mused for a moment, then smiled thinly. ”Well, no, I’m not really. I’m actually going to enjoy this.”

Edmund found that he was frozen in place as surely as if he were tied down. “Look, Professor…” he managed.

“These last two weeks have been frightfully tedious, even with the diversion that the lovely Veronica provides.”

“Veronica?" Edmund said in confusion. "Wait, y -you mean Ronnie? What are you -“

“What I do or do not do with Veronica is no concern of yours, Edmund,” Carandini said sharply. “Suffice it to say, she and her progeny should prove to be invaluable in my…endeavors. Ah, you see? You only make it more glaringly obvious that you require a reminder of just who is in charge.”

With that, Carandini slowly raised his right index finger and pointed it straight at Edmund.

“No! Please, I –" Edmund cried out as a needle of red hot pain shot directly into his chest.

“I can stop your heart just as easily as I can turn off that light, Edmund.”

Edmund clutched his chest in agony and fell back against his pillows. “PLEASE! I’ll do…anything…”

“Anything, Edmund? Are you quite sure?”

Another slight movement of Carandini’s hand, and another stab of pain lanced through Edmund’s heart.

“YES! I SWEAR!”

“Very good.” Carandini dropped his hand and stepped back. Gulping for air, Edmund wiped his sweating face with the remains of his bed sheet.

“I’m so glad that is settled.” Carandini walked back to the armchair and picked up his overcoat, draping it carefully over his arm. “I expect you to be back at Halstead tomorrow. No more of this malingering. And no more…personal initiative, right?”

“R-right,” Edmund stammered. “How should we-“

“Don’t worry about it for now.” Carandini thought for a moment, and then quirked a slight grin. “I’ll be…in touch.” Crossing over to the door and opening it, he raised his hand again, then chuckled at Edmund’s quick cringe of fear. “Let me get the light for you, “ he said, flicking the switch next to the door. The room was plunged back into darkness except for a sliver of light coming in from the hallway. It framed Carandini in silhouette, spilling around him and across the floor.

“Oh, and Edmund?” The professor’s voice was a deadly, lilting whisper.

“Y-yes, sir?”

“What is the phrase…? Ah yes! Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” With that, the Italian closed the door, shutting out the light. Edmund could hear his dry laugh receding down the hall until there was nothing but silence and the dark.

Suddenly and with a staggering force, the memory of a demonic, laughing face and disgusting, crawling things came rushing back to Edmund. He could swear he still felt that creature’s hot breath and those maggots on him, in him, burning and biting. With a panicked yelp, he leapt out of the bed and slapped the light back on, ignoring the dizzying pain that ricocheted through his skull. Ripping the sheets and pillows off the bed, he stared down in horror at the mattress.

"Ohhh god." Gagging convulsively, he lurched to the wastebasket and vomited. Wiping his mouth with the back of his trembling hand, he forced himself to look at the bed again.

“Ohgod ohgod ohgod.”

Edmund stumbled backwards into the corner of the room farthest away from the bed, then collapsed on the floor, weeping and shuddering in fear.

It was still there.

Right where he’d been sleeping, right where his head had been, was a quivering, roiling mass of tiny, grey maggots.

L.A.G

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE: Tension and Tears

Wilton closed the door quietly behind him; he was glad that the children had readily accepted his explanation of how he had opened it with no key. He carefully watched the children as they explored the dusty room. Although the furniture was covered with heavy sheets, the Italian could still tell clearly that it was a bedroom. Lisa walked over to the fireplace with an intensely curious look on her face. She pulled a dust cloth off the painting to reveal a portrait in oil of an auburn haired beauty dressed in white. The elaborate wooden frame featured exquisitely detailed carvings of intertwining roses. “She’s dressed just as Aunt Megan was at the party last night,” gasped the little girl. Lisa continued to stare intently at the painting, and then Wilton felt a sudden swell of excitement within himself. He realized that she had gone into a trance. He walked softly towards her and turned the little girl to face him. He held up an exquisitely manicured hand to shush Tony who had just opened his mouth to speak.

“Lisa, tell me, what do you see?”

“It’s this room, but all the furniture is uncovered. It’s so beautiful in the firelight.”

“Is there anyone in the room?”

“Yes, there is a man and a woman. The man is pale and blonde. The woman is the one from the portrait. Their clothes are like the ones Jean, Aunt Megan and the others wore at the ball. He’s standing behind her with his arms around her waist. They are talking.”

“What are they saying?”

“She’s telling him to go. That he must leave. It’s wrong for him to be here.”

“What’s he saying?”

“That nothing done for love is ever wrong.”

The door to the room burst open, Ronnie came running in and threw her arms around the startled professor. “Oh, Wilton, it’s terrible. I found Edmund unconscious at the bottom of the basement stairs. Grant called the paramedics and they’ve taken him to the hospital.”

Wilton looked down at the trembling woman in his arms, and asked, “How did you know I was here in the east wing, dear Veronica?”

“I just knew,” she replied, awed by her own answer. She looked over at the children. “What are you two doing here?”

Tony looked guiltily down at the floor. His face reddened as he tried to think of a plausible excuse. Wilton came to his rescue. “I asked the children to accompany me here. I thought it would be more fun to explore this part of the house with their company.”

“How thoughtful of you. I want you two to go ahead. I need to talk to Professor Carandini alone.” As the children left obediently, Ronnie said, “Wilton, I found something.”


*********************************************************************
Megan sat at her usual table in The Slaughtered Lamb smoking a Dunhill International cigarette and sipping a Maker’s Mark old fashion. U-2’s Achtung, Baby blared from the speakers - Michael, the landlord, would let her bring in her own music during off hours. The bar was deserted at three in the afternoon on a Monday. She thought about the events of the past few days since the ball - Edmund’s accident Saturday morning, her date with Mitch, and her mother’s departure with the doctor this morning. It had been an exhausting couple of days and there was a tremendous load of work waiting for her at the office. So, Megan felt irresponsible about ditching work this afternoon, but she hadn’t felt like going back after the blowout she had with Jean earlier that day.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Megan said hotly, her brown eyes flashing. The two siblings stood confronting one another in the middle of Jean’s private office.

“ Why shouldn’t I be concerned with my sister dating a man we know nothing about,” retorted Jean, attempting to modulate his voice to match his icy stare.

“What’s this “we” bullshit? Mother knows him perfectly well. He’s her doctor. Obviously she trusts him enough to let him personally supervise her treatment.”

“And what was he supervising with you on Saturday night? You didn’t get home till four in the morning. I am sure everyone in the household must have heard you come in.”

“Why do you care when I get home? I am a little long in the tooth for anyone to be worried about my reputation. Or is that what is really bothering you?”

“What does that mean?”

Megan moved closer to him. Their bodies were almost but not quite touching. Megan lowered her voice and looked him in the eyes. “Is what you really want to know whether or not he fucked me?”

Jean’s face went red, then white. Before he could respond, Megan added, “I think you should be more worried about your precious fiancé and the professor.”

Jean grabbed both Megan’s arms and roughly pulled her even closer. With their bodies touching and their faces only a few inches apart, he replied in a voice husky with emotion. “ I don’t give a shit about what Ronnie and Wilton are doing. What I want to know is what’s happening between you and the good doctor.”

“As he’s left town with Mother, not a lot.”

There was a loud knock at Jean’s office door, and he let go of his sister, crossed the room and opened the door. The two siblings tried to pull themselves together. Uncle Robert entered and immediately seemed ill at ease. He cleared his throat and said in a slightly strained voice, “Hello, you two, I just wanted to discuss which once of us should visit Edmund in the hospital. After all, he is an employee and the accident occurred at Halstead.”

“I’ll go,” volunteered Megan and headed towards the door, “Maybe if I give him a blow job he won’t sue. I won’t be back this afternoon.” She pushed her way past her appalled uncle and loudly slammed the door shut behind her.

Megan’s remembrances were disrupted by the arrival of Annie. She waved at Megan and slid into the booth on the opposite side of her friend. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t.” replied Megan as she took a drag. “Want one?” she asked as she pushed the blue pack across the table to the redheaded maid.

“O.K. but don’t tell Grant. He’d kill me, if he saw me smoking,”

“Drink?”

“Yes, please. If that’s an old fashion I’ll have the same.”

“Hey, Michael,” shouted Megan to the white haired gentleman behind the bar. “Another for me and one for my friend.”

“Let me guess,” said Annie, “bad day?”

“Very. I just saw Edmund at the hospital.”

“How’s Don Juan doing?”

“Alright. He took quite a tumble. He didn’t break anything, but the concussion was bad enough that they want to keep him in the hospital for another 48 hours for observation.”

“Did seeing him really upset you that much, Megan? I am a little surprised that you are here drinking instead of going back to work.”

“No. I just had a stupid fight with Jean at work this morning and didn’t feel like seeing him for a while.”

Annie tried to sound casual as she asked, “What did you fight about?”

Megan shrugged her shoulders noncommittally and said, “Nothing really. I just resented his questions about Mitch and myself when his fiancé is playing the tart with Wilton Carandini.”

Michael set their drinks on the table a bit too hard, and asked Megan, “Professor Wilton Carandini is in Port Legard?”

Annie said teasingly, “Didn’t your mother teach you it was impolite to eavesdrop?”

“I am being serious, girl. Megan, do you mean to say that you know Carandini?”

“Yes, Michael, I am. He’s a distant relation. How do you know him?”

“Well, miss, I knew him from research I did for the roles I played in all those Hammer films.”

“Tell us about it.”

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Megan arrived at home in time for dinner. Wilton dominated the conversation over dinner discussing his current research on the family history. The children, Ronnie and Uncle Robert hung onto every word he spoke. Megan wanted to scream. Jean looked miserable too. The two of them kept catching the other’s eye and then looking away. Megan could tell Jean was desperate to talk to her. She began to feel guilty about the scene earlier today. It seemed like the two of them either connected beautifully or, like earlier, were at each other’s throats. Megan knew there was too much energy flowing between the two of them, but she had no idea of how to stop it. Maybe they could talk in the drawing room over the coffee course.

As dinner came to a close, Robert announced that the children would go to bed, and that the gentlemen would go to the study for brandy and cigars, leaving the ladies the drawing room. Carandini smiled at Jean and said, “Is that a look of disappointment on your face? It must be terrible to be separated from your charming fiancé even for an hour.”

Jean flushed slightly, but graciously replied, “I don’t get to see her nearly as much as I would like. But how can I complain when I have intelligent company as well as Cuban cigars and first rate brandy?”

Megan decided that the best tack to take on what promised to be an awkward hour with Ronnie over coffee was to listen. She asked Ronnie about how the children were settling in, how her research with Carandini was going and lastly, through gritted teeth, how the wedding plans were progressing. This last question actually stopped Ronnie cold. She simply said that everything was on hold till Alexandra came back, and then excused herself for the evening as she had an early day. Megan was grateful for Ronnie’s departure, but curious about her future sister-n-law’s ability to discuss all topics to death except for her upcoming marriage to Jean. She looked at the clock and decided to spend the rest of the evening in her room reading Bleak House.

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A soft knock on the door startled Megan from Esther's plight in Bleak House. She opened the door and Jean stood there, surprisingly sober considering the brandy on top of the rather excellent cabernet at dinner. Of course, Jean had paced himself at dinner despite his boredom with Wilton’s near monologue. His restraint probably explained the absence of his usual sarcastic remarks. He looked up from the ground and into her eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Can I come in?” asked Jean in a slightly pleading tone.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to fight.”

“Neither do I, Megan. I just want to talk to you.”

Megan reluctantly opened the door fully and let him in. The two sat down on the end of her bed, facing the glowing fireplace and talking in low voices.

“I wanted to apologize for cross examining you about Mitch. I know it’s none of my business.”

“It’s ok, Jean,” replied his sister as she took his hand. “I over reacted. I just felt so angry with you.”

“What made you angry?”

“I don’t know. I guess that it bothered me that you were so inquisitive about Mitch when you didn’t even tell me about Ronnie, and you are engaged to her.” Megan pushed back an unruly lock of Jean’s blonde curly hair as she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you had a fiancé?”

Jean looked down at Megan’s hand in his, and replied softly, “I don’t know why, Megan. I guess I was afraid. We’d finally started talking again after years of silence. I just didn’t want anything to disrupt what was growing between us again.”

“Jean,” asked Megan, her eyes downcast, “what is growing between us?”

“I don’t know, Megan. But…”

“But what?”

“I felt wild at the thought of you with Mitch,” started Jean.

Megan pressed her free hand against Jean’s lips and said, “Stop. Or I’ll tell you how I feel when I see Ronnie sneaking out of your room in the middle of the night,” Megan removed her hand from Jean’s lips, and tenderly kissed him on the mouth. “You should go now.”

“Do you really want me to go?” asked Jean as he stared intensely into Megan’s eyes. She could not make herself break from his gaze.

“No, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay.”

Jean pulled Megan close and whispered in her ear, “Don’t you trust me?”

Megan pushed herself out of his arms and off the bed replying, “It’s not you that I don’t trust. It’s me.”

Jean followed her wordlessly to her door. Before she opened it, he brought her hands to his lips and kissed the palm of each one as he said good night. As she shut the door behind Jean, Megan leaned against it and burst into tears.

************************************************************************

Megan tossed and turned as she slept. She dreamed of Halstead long ago. Brigid and Roderick were fighting in their bedroom. They had only been married a short time. Brigid sat at her vanity brushing her raven hair and glaring at her husband.

“It’s ridiculous. I did not mind her sitting between us at the theatre when we were courting. But now we look absurd- a married couple constantly in the company of the husband’s younger sister.”

“What do you want me to do, leave her in this house alone while we go out? She has no companions here at Halstead besides us.”

Brigid angrily threw her brush down on the ornate wooden dresser. “Roderick, she does have friends nearby and enjoys their company. Anyway, I think we need to address the issue of Augusta’s future.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s high time that she marry.”

“But she’s still a child.”

“No, Roderick, she is a young woman. And it is time for us to find her a husband. If you cannot find a suitable match, then I am sure that I can.”

The scene between the two faded, and then Megan saw Brigid and Roderick in the drawing room now. Megan sensed that quite a bit of time had passed since their last conversation. Brigid sat enraptured by the large tome she read. Roderick paced nervously around the room. “Roderick, would you please stop that infernal pacing. It won’t make the carriage arrive any faster. Really, you are like a…”

Augusta bursting through the drawing room door interrupted her sister-in-law’s chastisement of Roderick. Augusta’s husband Jameson Legard followed her. She threw herself into her brother’s arms. Roderick hugged her tight and laughed. Then he pushed her away and took a long look at her, “My God, Goose, you are a woman now, aren’t you?” His voice sounded odd as he said it. He then turned to his handsome brother-in-law and said, “We are delighted that you both have returned and are back to make your home with us here at Halstead. While you were on your grand tour, we had another wing built for your and Augusta’s use.”

Jameson warmly shook Roderick’s hand and thanked him. Brigid got up from the desk, crossed the room to greet Augusta, and kissed the bride’s cheek with genuine affection. “I am glad that you are back, dear. I missed you much more than I had expected.” She then dropped her tone, and while pretending to kiss Augusta’s other cheek whispered to her, “Are you enjoying married life?”

Augusta blushed and nodded. Brigid looked at Jameson and felt pleased with her choice of husband for Augusta. Jameson came from an excellent family, had a fine profession, and was intelligent, charming and attractive. She had been anxious for a good match for Augusta but also wanted the girl to be happy. Of course, she couldn’t really call her a girl anymore. Roderick was right; Augusta had come back from Europe clearly a woman.

At that point, Megan awoke from her dream with a start. She turned on the light on the nightstand next to her, and saw at the foot of her bed a black cat with a white mark on its forehead and a remarkable pair of green eyes.

-A.H.