Read Something Wicked: Requiem of A Dream 1 Page 3


  Nothing.

  My view was extraordinarily ordinary. The courtyard was barren and cold, nothing out of place. There was no sign of the massive tree or the lake of lily-pads and lunar flowers. No demonic entities.

  Just a courtyard.

  "It was a dream!" I murmured aloud in relief. Of course it was a dream. What else could it have been?

  I decided I had eaten something that hadn't agreed with me, and my mind had conjured up a very realistic hallucination.

  "Just a dream," I repeated, sick with gratitude. How stupid of me.

  A knock on my door roused me from my thoughts. Blu entered, bearing a breakfast tray in his hands and a change of fresh clothes folded over his arm. I discreetly took a long look at his face in order to satisfy to myself that there were no bulging blue veins or bloody eyes this time.

  He looked perfectly normal. No maggots, no dripping fangs.

  "Good morning Master Judas," his voice was light and pleasant. "I hope you find yourself quite well rested this morning, you seemed to be under a lot of strain last night. We were worried for your health."

  "I'm fine, thank you," I replied weakly as I accepted the tray and the clothes. The food smelled delicious and my stomach groaned eagerly at the concept of sustenance.

  Blu laid out the fresh clothes he had brought for me, though I had never seen them before in my life. They looked ordinary enough though there was something...aged about them.

  "I want to see my great grandfather," I told him. "Is he up yet?" I was quite sure that my persistent tone bothered the butler but he made no comment towards it. Instead he offered me yet another of his enigmatic smiles.

  "I'm afraid not, Young Master. You will be unable to see him today. He is not himself."

  "Are you kidding me?" I burst out angrily. "I want to see me grandfather. Why won't he see me?"

  Blu said nothing but continued to tidy up my room with not so much as a glance in my direction. He seemed to have lost interest in the conversation, making me feel like some sort of insect set up for his amusement.

  Whatever game he and my great grandfather were playing, I was sadly unaware of it and was proving to be a very poor player.

  "If you are not feeling well, Young Master, I suggest you stay in bed. If you must get up you are more than welcome to explore the manor and its grounds. They are quite something."

  This time it was my turn to stay silent and I did so quite sullenly. I had hoped that in coming here, I might have had some semblance of family restored to me. Nothing in this world could ever take the place of my mother, of course. But I had hoped that perhaps I could find some form of solace in a relationship with my great grandfather.

  We never had one when I was a child, but things were different now.

  He had cared for my mother hadn't he? Cared for me? That was why he brought me here to live with him. There was no other logical explanation. He had been gruff and anti-social in my youth, but now he was reaching out.

  Abruptly, I grabbed my clothes and began dressing, frantically stripping out of my sweaty things and making myself more presentable.

  "I'll go for a walk," I said. The solution to my problem suddenly seemed so obvious to me. Blu was toying with me and I was in no mood to keep up with him. If he wanted to keep me separated from my relative well... that was fine. I would seek out my great grandfather without his help.

  I hurriedly left the room, feeling the goose-bumps that had erupted over my skin dissipate as I left the butler's presence. Something about that man set my teeth on edge, as my mother would have said.

  I ducked down the hallway, turning before I reached the main door. I had no idea where my great grandfather would be residing, the manor possessed more doors than I could possibly imagine.

  Rows and rows of them, some containing single rooms, others larger ones that branched off into each other and still others containing more twisted hallways with more doors. To make matters worse, the lighting was dim, the faint bulbs coated with dust and cobwebs, making everything look identical.

  The only technique I learned to find my way was by looking at the oil paintings that lined the walls. My great grandfather had the largest collection I had ever seen. Some were classic portraits of people and families, others of animals with scenes of fox hunts and deer, but my favorites were the scenes ripped right out of the literary greats. Dorian Gray, the Nautilus, Hannibal, Anna Karenina... all stared at me from their exquisitely life-like canvases.

  Every detail was perfection. It was as if the artist had somehow photographed them in paint. They became my guides through the house and every time I came across one I had already met, I knew that I had taken a wrong turn and somehow looped back around.

  Somewhere in the recesses of this house was my great grandfather and I was determined to find him.

  Most of the rooms I explored that day were remarkably ordinary. Many were filled with books, each room dedicated to a specific subject. At first I lingered in each one, reading a little, yearning to know what my relative knew in order that we might find some common ground when I finally met him.

  Gradually however, as the rooms began to blur together, I spent less and less time in each one and more and more time frantically moving from one to the next.

  The house seemed to be playing tricks on me, switching hallways and staircases, convincing me that I had already seen one room when all the others around it were completely unfamiliar. I felt turned around and anxious and in a perpetual state of deja vu. I was no longer even sure which way would lead me back to my room.

  "Juuuuuuudaaaaaas!"

  The haunting moan sent prickles of ice down my spine and I spun around in alarm.

  "Mother?" I ventured.

  There was no reply but something rustled in the room to my right and I stiffened my body in concentration. Again, the tiny scratching sounds, barely audible. I didn't realize I was holding my breath.

  "Hello?" I gave the door a gentle nudge and it drifted open, revealing to me an empty room. Or so I thought, until a streak of white launched itself at my legs with lightning fast speed, causing me to yelp and stumble backwards. My heart was thudding so violently I thought it might come crashing out of my chest, my lungs contracted painfully against the strain.

  "What the -- !"

  I watched as the white streak darted under a bureau and glared at me with twin coal eyes. A cat! I realized with relief. Just a cat!

  "Master Judas!"

  The soft voice made me almost leap out of my skin and I nearly broke my neck. I whipped around so fast to find myself almost nose to nose with Bast. Her skin was flushed and rosy and several of those silky brown strands of hair had escaped from under her maid's cap.

  She stared at me with the same eyes I remembered from the night before and I felt a hot blush creeping up the back of my neck.

  "Miss Ba -- Bast!" I hated myself for stuttering. "You startled me. I didn't think there was anyone in this part of the house."

  She shifted her gaze from me to the bureau where the cat hid. I watched as she crouched to the ground and extended her pale hand. Slowly, the pearl white kitten emerged to sniff her fingers and offered an approving lick and a purr. Bast cradled the animal and I felt myself liking her even more.

  "He's so beautiful!" I said, thrilled to finally have something to say to her that didn't make me sound like a complete moron. "Is he yours? You must love cats." Maybe not.

  "Ah, Bast, there you are. I see you've found another friend."

  The deep voice of Blu interrupted anything she might have said to me, and I saw the red flush on her cheeks instantly drain to white. The butler towered over us both, his slitted eyes casually sliding from one to the other.

  "I am sorry, Master Judas," he went on, "sometimes her pets escape the kitchen and find their way here."

  "It's alright," I said, staring at the cat now purring contentedly in her arms. "I love cats."

  "Is that so?" Blu offered a bow. "Forgive m
y presumption then. Your great grandfather abhors them. In any case, there is a matter for Bast to attend to in the cellar. Master Judas, it's nearly six 'o clock! You've been wandering around this house all day. Why don't you return to your room and enjoy a nice hot meal. I've taken the liberty of unpacking your things for you so everything is organized."

  His words left no room for negotiation. Bast vanished as silently as if she was a ghost, taking the pearl kitten with her, and I had no desire to remain in the hallway with Blu. Every hair on my body stood up on end whenever I even looked at him.

  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.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Read the next book by Eve Hathaway:

  If you like this book, you will also like The Dark Crow Smiles...

  "It was with a strange serenity that I accepted the fact that I was dying. Here, in the basement of this hellish house, I was going to die a sweet, slow death all alone. Only I wasn't alone."

  TO DIE A SWEET, SLOW DEATH

  Continuously trapped in his great grandfather’s manor, and without any sign whatsoever of his missing relative, Judas Stoker is determined to make his daring, midnight escape. Armed with only his desperation, he hastily exits the mansion only to discover that the maniacal servants aren’t the only ones lurking in the shadows. He comes face to face with the manor’s dark Guardian.