Chapter Ten
AS I MADE my way back to my room I felt a cloud of dread following after me. Everything seemed different; even the paintings I had previously admired now appeared to leer at me from their frames. I was acutely aware for the first time that I was utterly alone in this friendless place with only their smug faces to accompany me.
The labyrinth of the mansion engulfed me once again and despite the fact that Blu had pointed me in the right direction, I kept taking the wrong routes and I found myself staring at the same rooms again and again. The same paintings kept cropping up in front of me and I was beginning to get frustrated.
I sat down on one of the ornate wooden benches that lined the hallways, designed for admiring the art. The painting before me was a massive one, colored with dark hues depicting a scene from Faust.
The artist had created a pale-faced Mephistopheles leering out of the shadows at the unfortunate alchemist as he sat despairing in his room. The more I stared at the picture the more life-like it seemed to be. Was it my imagination, or were the demon's eyes blinking crimson?
Impossible! I insisted to myself. It's just a trick of the light that's all. Nothing more.
And yet...
The painting was changing. My mouth opened in horror as the demon looked from his intended victim to me, a smile stretching his lips to incredible lengths and beckoning to me with a boney finger.
It was all too horrible. There was no way I was hallucinating again. I tried to get up from the bench and run, but my legs were caught in something strong and sticky, like the web of a giant spider.
I stumbled and kicked, my body convulsing with fear as I heard Mephistopheles shriek with laughter behind me.
I tore the gluey threads from my body, throwing every fiber of my being into action as I strained to escape. The lights in the hallway flickered and died, dousing me with darkness and intensifying the sickening cackle of Van Goethe's demon.
"Help me!" I tried to scream but the words came out garbled and almost inaudible. Somehow my hands closed on the knob of a door and I twisted, desperate for freedom but it wouldn't turn. My fingers scrabbled at the wood, scratching helplessly and drawing blood from my fingertips as my nails splintered from my frantic efforts.
I heard the faint sound of tinkling laughter as I pressed my eye to the keyhole. What I saw made my stomach twist into painful knots and I tasted bile in my throat.
Bast and Blu were waltzing around an enormous ornate ballroom dressed like royalty and wearing decorated masks. Even though I couldn't see their faces, I was sure it was them.
Blu was no longer in his butler's garb but was wearing a richly tailored suit entirely in black. I could even see the glint of his gold buttons. Bast was dressed in a trailing gown of black, trimmed with golden peacock feathers.
Her hair was curled into a mound of perfect ringlets, and there was a radiant laugh on her lips that didn't quite belong as they floated around a gargantuan marble dance floor.
It was then that I saw that in their hands, they clutched wicked looking pitchforks. Every so often, they lashed out at each other as though they were fighting. Then they would come together to complete the dance, each moving in perfect harmony with the other. Step, slash, step, step, and dodge gracefully.
It was like watching some sort of bizarre macabre ritual. I tried to call out and get their attention but my voice would not come. Ropes of sticky thread looped around my neck and face, blocking my vision and robbing me of air. My bruised fingers struggled to be free of the constricting bonds.
The more I thrashed, the more hopelessly tangled I became until I could no longer move anything on my body but my horrified eyes. The threads were gradually constricting, beckoning the darkness to claim me. My confusion was almost as great as my terror. What was going on?
What happened next, I cannot tell. Somehow my body was moved from its position on the floor and eventually propped up against the wall. My mind retreated into itself and I observed nothing.
I woke to the sound of laughter, and I struggled to open my eyes only to realize that my face had been heavily bound with bandages. Through a slit in the gauze I could make out the dining room, set up with a mountain of fruits and sweets.
On either side of the table sat Blu and Bast, still dressed in their finery, partaking of the desserts.
They were laughing and giggling like naughty school children and I watched as Bast speared a plump strawberry with her fork and raised it to her rose-petal lips. The ripe fruit slid off the cutlery and thudded to the floor, rolling inches away from me.
Bast turned and my breath constricted when I saw her face. She was fiercely lovely, but her eyes were gleaming bright red with slit pupils, and her teeth were pointed into sharp fangs. Blu had also changed and wore the bloodied gaze and web of navy veins across his face.
In my fright, I must have made a noise, for Bast raised her face to me and I saw a terrible grin stretch her lips.
"Oh my, he's awake!" She giggled girlishly and crept closer to me. A tiny gurgle freed itself from my throat and I saw a flash of fierce distaste in her eyes. "Hush now, Little Master. Keep staring like that and you'll hurt my feelings! Then I'll blind you myself."
It was difficult to hear such threats pour from her musical voice.
"Now Bast, away with your claws!" Blu stood from the table, and I saw the long pitchfork was still clutched in his hand. "He is important! No, invaluable. Such a perfect specimen, don't you agree?" He leered at me and my entrails clenched at his terrible face.
Drops of congealed blood oozed stickily from the tear ducts in his eyes and his rotten breath, hot and humid, caressed my neck. The bandages around my face made it impossible for me to form words but I'm sure that my thoughts translated themselves with perfect clarity to my tormentors.
I felt Bast raise her hand and pet my cheek exactly the way my mother used to. She left a long, wet smear across my face that tingled and I saw that her fingers were dark with crimson. At first I thought it was the juice from the berries, but there the liquid was far too thick, far too metallic.
"Are you afraid of me, Young Master?" She cooed dovelike into my ear. Her fingers slipped beneath the bandages and forced apart my lips. I gagged at the salty taste of blood in my throat and she giggled with fiendish delight. "You have a taste for it."
"Bastet! Enough!" Blu's voice was rolling thunder and the coquettish succubus snatched away her hand, allowing me to gasp for clean air. I managed to shift my position to get a better view of the table and I saw that the candied fruits and exotic chocolates were only the parameter of the table.
In the center of the lavishly decorated table was an enormous golden platter piled high with what I suspected was human entrails. I saw the coiled intestines, the sliced heart, the liver and pancreas coupled with a silver knife so as to make serving oneself more convenient.
The blood that still coated my tongue tasted sour and I felt a wave of intense nausea crash over me. This was a nightmare, it had to be. Perhaps this was what was known as lucid dreaming. Maybe I would wake up in a moment to discover I had simply imagined all of this.
"Please return him to his room, my dear." Blu sounded farther and farther away each time he spoke. I could no longer see him or anything else. I felt Bast's thin arms wrap around me and hoist me to my feet, which promptly gave out. She hissed in annoyance and looped my arm around her neck to support me.
My head lolled against her shoulder, and I felt the silk of her skirts brush against my legs as she guided me through the ever-changing hallways of the manor back to my assigned sanctuary.
As we entered the room, I felt her tearing away the heavy threads that immobilized me. Her hands wandered across my body, checking for injuries and I heard her hum lightly to herself as she undid the buttons of my shirt, relieving me of my sweaty, bloody clothes.
Despite what I had just witnessed of her, some part of me still yearned to reach out for her acceptance. I didn't know what
was real and wasn't, I only knew that she had been the only one in the house who had appeared to be sympathetic towards me.
I clung to the hope that there was something to that.
"Bast," I pleaded as she laid me down on the bed and covered me with a blanket. "Is this a dream? Please tell me I'm only dreaming. Please." I clutched her hand desperately and though I couldn't see her face, I felt her return the pressure.
"Yes, Master Judas. This is just a dream. It's all in your head my love." Her lips pressed softly against my forehead, instantly calming me. "Sleep, Judas. Sleep and forget."
I tried to concentrate on her voice, on the faint memory of her dancing beneath the full moon in her billowing white dress, of the feeling of her lips lingering on my burning flesh. Yet those sensations tore away as fast as I could conjure them, and I was left to the embrace of my own darkness.
The last thing I heard before sleep overtook me was the distant wail of a child crying somewhere in the depths of the mansion.