through the front doors, I could hear it. I tip-toed over to the curtain, sinking into the thick, white carpeting with every step. The curtain was held together by a piece of gold ribbon, and on each piece of velvet was the initials A.H. I gently untied the ribbon and started to pull the curtain back.
“Looking for something, Malachi?” I jumped as I saw Madam standing at her door, her eyes as wide as sunflowers, emerald sunflowers. “Madam, I am so very sorry, I just-“ She locked the door behind her. “I am very sorry, Madam, I didn’t mean to.” I kept stuttering, searching aimlessly for the perfect excuse, but I had none. “It’s alright, Malachi, I knew sooner or later this would probably happen.” I headed for the door, my eyes down. Madam threw her arm in front of me. “Please, I’ll leave this minute, Madam.” I pushed by her and tried to turn the doorknob, but it was locked. She walked over to the velvet curtains. She stepped behind one side and pulled a long gold cord.
As the blue velvet moved away, I felt my flesh creep and all the blood drain out of my body. There they stood. Their eyes wide open. Richard Van Zant, Alessandro Giancomo and in his wheelchair, Zander Caulfield. I grabbed the doorknob and desperately pounded on the door, “HELP! SOMEONE! HELP ME, PLEASE!” Madam remained as calm and collected as always. “Shhh, look at them,” she instructed me, “touch them.” I looked at them, their faded eyes staring back at me, their skin was like decaying parchment, and had a slimy, grayish tint to it. “I just couldn’t bear to part with them, Malachi.” Trying to catch my breath, I leaned against the door and crumbled to the carpet. “But how?”
“My uncle, Dr. Harrington, such a wonderful man, he helped me preserve them.” In all the years I had seen Dr. Harrington visit with his little black bag in hand, no one ever bothered to mention that he was also a taxidermist. “But what about the mausoleum?” I said, “What about the crypts?” Madam smiled. “I know,” she said, crossing her arms, “Awfully expensive caskets just to fill with wine bottles and rocks, don’t you think?” I just stared at her, I couldn’t move. “I did it because I loved them, Malachi, love is an irreversible disease of the heart, something you know so very little about… you can’t take the flame back once you have lit the candle, Malachi.” I slowly pulled myself to my feet. “I want to leave,” I said. I would not spend another night trapped in a house with such a sickened woman. “Fine,” Madam replied. “If you truly want to leave, that’s fine, Malachi.” She stared at me coldly.
I turned my back on her and looked at the door. “You can leave whenever you wish, but you leave with whatever you came with… nothing else.” I turned around and stared at her, my heart sinking into what was left of my stomach. An evil grin appeared across her face. “That’s quite alright, if you leave, I can always have the library torn down and made into another guest room, or a music room, perhaps.” My library. My wonderful library. I had completely forgotten. I could not leave my beloved library. She smirked and lowered her eyes, knowing very well how much that room meant to me. “The decision is yours.” And tonight, as I sit here in my favorite chair, rain gently taps the windows, the sweet smell of cherry pipe smoke billows in the air, and with a brandy beside me, I am surrounded by all the leather-bound voices of the men and women that I so much love. Now, I am certain, I want to die in this room.
Meanwhile… Madam is in her own room. And less than an hour ago, I delivered her dinner, dinner for four.
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