Le Manoir des Ensorcelés

by halcyonsblade

Summary:

France, 1864
Rody is a werewolf. And he's being hunted by his entire village.
The only safe place? A mysterious manor in the woods where a man named Vincent promises he will "keep him safe."
While Rody is at first very grateful for his kindness, something feels...𝘰𝘧𝘧.
A strange ghost of his girlfriend claims that there is more to Vincent than what meets the eye. But is she telling the truth?

Time is running out and Rody has decide who to trust- 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵. Otherwise, he might just find himself as someone's next meal.

Notes:

𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗧 !!

This is an interactive story- where YOU, yes, YOU, dear reader gets to help Rody make the decisions!!
Throughout the story there will be 𝟮 𝗺𝗮𝗷𝗼𝗿 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲𝘀 you get to decide which will affect how the story ends.

There are a total of 𝟰 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 but only 𝟭 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴.
Also!!
1. The Chapters are NOT in the usual order of a regular story! You will be given instructions which chapter to go to instead.
2. You may end up revisiting certain chapters throughout the story- but only if you are told to do so! This will help you gather clues.
3. Don't forget to visit The Bathroom

Good luck.

Chapter 1: The Manor Entrance

It was a dark and stormy night. Rain pelted down as thunder furiously roared across the sky. Rody was running for his life. Each step of his shoes was a wet slop as he frantically stumbled through the twigs, mud and branches in the dense forest.

𝘏𝘶𝘧𝘧…𝘩𝘢𝘩..𝘩𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘧....𝘩𝘢𝘩…

Not even once did he glance back. He did not need to be more afraid than he already was- it was bad enough his entire village was now on a manhunt for him. Or rather, just hunting. Nevermind the 𝘮𝘢𝘯 part. Because, you see, this was nothing like regular hunting, not like for game. After all, it was not every day a village discovers a …𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧 living amongst them.

“𝘕𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦-”

He shut his eyes tight. It did not help drown out the sound of the thunder. Or the very vivid memories burned into his mind of the last few hours he spent in his home. His 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥 home. With a pained expression, he clutched at his chest.

𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯? He thought of his maman’s gratin. How he would never get another chance to savor the rich, creamy buttery, texture of the potatoes and the melted cheese. He thought of his papa’s old guitar. The one he always strummed while belting out his love for his maman when he was as drunk as a sailor, his maman scolding him for drinking too much and swiftly swiping the bottle away. His papa’s promise that one day he would inherit his old beaten down guitar and propose to the future love of his life. Marianne Vacher, the baker’s daughter was to him the perfect girl, but then all too suddenly, even she was swept away from him.

𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘐’𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴…𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦.

Rody was so busy running that he failed to notice something.
“AH!” He cried out as he tripped. With an oof! he fell forward flat on his face. Onto a very cold and slippery cobblestone path. He winced, clutching at his shins and forearms. It was too dark to see, but judging from the stinging, he was probably bleeding from multiple cuts and bruises.

𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥’𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨…

Then he looked upwards and he noticed a faint yellow glow. There in the distance, was a manor. The wet cobblestone path shimmered, reflecting the light of the gas lanterns in front of the manor.
“At last! Finally!” he cried out. Excitedly, he made his way towards the house.

As he approached he noticed a few things.
1. The Manor was HUGE. It towered over him several stories high.
2. The building was very well kept. Polished metal and roof shingles, the front porch swept and not a single speck of dust seen in the windows.
3. It was oddly quiet. Despite the warm glow of light inside, he could not hear any noise at all coming from the house.

𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦. 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘺, 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦! Rody hesitated for a moment. 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘱? He thought. But he also remembered there were quite literally people out to kill him- so he wasted not a second clambering up the stairs and then knocking hastily on the door.

𝘉𝘢𝘮-𝘣𝘢𝘮-𝘣𝘢𝘮-𝘣𝘢𝘮-
“Someone, please! Please open the door!” He called out frantically. No answer. He tried again, this time a bit louder.

BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-

Suddenly, the door swung open. A tall man with black hair stood in the entrance. He looked at him with mild surprise.
“Good Evening.” He paused, taking in Rody’s completely drenched figure. “My- you must be soaked to the bone.”

“P-Please! Let me stay here! Just for one night! I-I promise I won’t cause any trouble.’ Rody suddenly burst out, begging him. He shut his eyes tightly, bracing himself for the door to be shut in his face.

But instead, he felt something soft land on the top of his head. He opened his eyes and glanced up to find a white handkerchief placed on him.

“Well?” said the dark haired man. There was a slight hint of amusement in his tone. “What’re you waiting for? Come right on in.” He gestured a hand towards the doorway, and without waiting for him, he turned and began walking.

Rody stood there staring blankly in shock. 𝘈𝘮 𝘐 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨?
Then the door began to close behind him and he snapped out of his trance.
“Wait!” Rody called out after him. He pushed it open and stepped inside.

[Click Here to go to the The Living Room]

Chapter 2: The Living Room

The first thing he noticed was how dark everything looked inside. Dust permeated through his nostrils. Even without his heightened sense of smell, he didn’t need to guess that this manor was a place with much history indeed. Ornate picture frames. The gilded brass chandelier. A scarlet red persian rug. 𝘞𝘰𝘢𝘩. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺.

The man stood in front of him. Now that they were in brighter lighting- Rody got a better look at him. He wore a black dress shirt with a ruffled cravat. The sleeves were a kind of free-flowing, silk material with bishop sleeves. A black leather corset and tailored dress pants tucked in the same very shirt, outlining his silhouette. And polished black shoes, no less.

𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, thought Rody as he unconsciously sucked in a breath. Then he thought of his own clothes and a wave of shame washed over him. 𝘈𝘩..𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯.
What was once a white linen shirt had yellowed, and his red waistcoat has long since faded into a dull brown. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨…

“Monsieur? Are you alright?” said the same voice. Two dark eyes looked at him curiously. Rody snapped back to reality. “O-OH. Ah, sorry.” He paused, taking in a breath.
“What were you saying before?” he asked.
“I asked whom do I have the pleasure of meeting this very fine evening?” Once again in his alluring voice. 𝘕𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘪𝘵! 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨?
“I-it’s Rody,” he stammered out. “Rody Lamoree.”
“My name is Vincent Charbonneau.” He bowed. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” For a moment, Rody was speechless. 𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳?
He always knew his village was more on the…lower class end of society, but still, he wasn’t naive about the world! And yet here he was caught off guard once again.

“Vincent-” Rody started.
“Vince.” There was a faint glimmer in his eyes and a soft smile on his lips. He glanced away for a moment, then back at him. Almost as if he were contemplating whether to share a secret. “It’s what my household calls me.”

“I am terribly sorry to trouble you!” blurted out Rody.
“No, no.” He smiled. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“Follow me.” He waved a hand and gestured towards a room to the right.
Rody nodded and soon they stood inside what appeared to be a living room.
In the center was a large fireplace, logs burning brightly as they crackled. It gave a very homey, warm fuzzy feeling inside of Rody’s chest. 𝘕𝘰, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥. Definitely didn’t remind him of his own home. He pushed that thought away.

“Wait here,” said Vincent.
“I’ll go grab you some towels and spare clothes to dry off.”
Rody nodded absentmindedly. He heard Vincent’s footsteps echo away into the distance. With nothing else to do, he decided to look around the room. Beside the fireplace were two high backed red velvet chairs. A red persian rug covered the wooden floor in front of the fireplace. There were several stacks of books on a small table next to one of the chairs. A collector’s cabinet was on the other side of the room along with a tall bookshelf. And above the fireplace, there was an oil painting. It was a picture of a younger-looking Vincent with three household staff- a maid, a butler, and a chauffeur. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘵? He wondered. Something about it looked off. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘋𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘺. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵... That was when he noticed.

The boy in the painting. His eyes were staring directly at him.

Panicked, Rody looked away. He shivered. Then he remembered he was still completely drenched by the rain. 𝘈𝘩 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘶𝘱 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦. He moved closer and sat down on the carpet, trying not to think about how much it was getting soaked. Next to the fireplace was a tool stand- there was a poker, a broom, a shovel, tongs, and a bellow.

He felt his hands getting warm. But he could feel the fire was slowly getting weaker. He picked up the bellows and gave a few experimental pushes.

𝘞𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘩! 𝘞𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘩! The embers flared up but then they died down just as suddenly. He tried again.

𝘞𝘏𝘖𝘖𝘚𝘏! It wasn’t working. He could feel his teeth starting to chatter. So naturally, Rody did the next best thing. He used the bellow on himself.
“My apologies for taking so long-”
“AHHH!” Rody nearly threw the bellow into the fireplace.
“What are you doing?” Vincent stood in the doorway, perplexed.

“I-I um. I thought that since bellows pump air and all I could use it to dry myself? Like if a lot of air blew my clothes it would eventually dry out, right.”

For a moment, Vincent was completely speechless. Then he burst into laughter. “Don’t tell me, wait-” He was caught off by another laughing fit.
“And you…you thought that’d actually work?”

“Don’t make fun of me! I’m your guest, am I?” Rody fumed.
“Yes, yes you are.” Vincent smirked.
“Here. A towel is much faster to use.” He handed him a towel and a set of dry clothes, along with a nightshirt and cap. Rody muttered a thanks and took it gingerly. Not unlike a wet fox.

“You can change now.”
“In here?”
“No, not in-” Vincent said slightly exasperated. “I meant in the bathroom. It’s down the hall.” He pointed across the Manor’s entrance.

“In the meantime, I’ll call for Alphonse. He’ll bring you to the Dining Room once you're ready.” His footsteps out the door.

 

[Click here to go to the The Bathroom]

[Investigate Fireplace - Note: can only do after obtaining “Fireplace Key”]
[Investigate Rug - Note: can only do after obtaining “Rug Key”]

Notes:

Rody invents a blow dryer.

As the story progresses, you may start to notice some of the characters, well don’t quite seem in character. Do keep this in mind.

Chapter 3: The Bathroom

Notes:

Hello!

This chapter is designed to be a bit of a break/comfort chapter.
The Bathroom is a place Rody can always return to (unless specified otherwise)

You may find it helpful to help Rody review any clues he's gathered in here.

Rody steps into the bathroom and pulls the door shut. 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬. He locks it shut. Then, he peers at his surroundings.

To his left was a large elegant-looking claw foot bathtub. It was filled with steaming hot water, with a white towel draped over the side. The floor was black-and-white checkered marble tiles. To his right was an old mirror and sink. In front of him, he could see a glass window- in fact the only window he’s seen inside the house so far. The room was brightly lit by candles on several wall sconces, contrasting the rain and darkness outside.

𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘐’𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳.

He stepped toward the mirror. Looking back at him was his own reflection.
His face looked pale, eyes dull, and hair more ashen than his usual fiery red.
Rody splashed some hot water on his face. He drank some of it too, gulping it down to try to calm his nerves. Then he rubbed his face dry with a towel. It was surprisingly soft, probably the softest fabric he’s ever held in his meager life.

He looks somewhat slightly cleaner now.
As he peered into the mirror, his reflection stared back at him. There was something eerie about the way his eyes looked. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨?

He shook his head. 𝘚𝘯𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘙𝘰𝘥𝘺! 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥. He took a deep breath. Just when he was about to look away from the mirror, something caught his eye. A small slip of paper jutted out from the corner of the mirror frame. There was a handwritten note. In bad handwriting.
It read:

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕.

“The eyes are a mirror to the soul..?” he wondered out loud. 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦. 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦…
He exhaled, letting out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. Before he knew it, his legs gave way and he found himself lowered on the marble tile.

𝘐 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘺.

He leaned against the claw-footed tub, feeling the heat of the steam warm the back of his clothes. Rody closed his eyes. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘴, he thought, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦.

Then, after a few moments, he opened his eyes. He stood up, turning the cool metal of the door handle. And once again, he ventured out into the strange world of the Manor he now found himself in.

[Click here to go to The Dining Room]

Notes:

If you've arrived here after any chapter above 3 (so 4,5,6, etc.) and especially the Greenhouse chapter, you can use the "Chapter Index" toggle-down menu to return back to the same chapter you were reading.

If you've arrived from the Greenhouse chapter- go back ONLY to the Library, The Master Bedroom, and Vincent's Study

Chapter 4: The Dining Room

Notes:

[TW: slight blood warning]

As soon as Rody opened the door, he saw a man standing in the hallway. He was on the older side, with grey hair neatly combed back. He wore a black tailcoat with a white shirt and black tie- a typical Victorian butler’s outfit.

When he took notice of Rody, he bowed politely.
“You must be jeune maître Vincent’s guest. My name is Alphonse.” He gestured a white gloved hand towards the hallway.

“Follow me this way.” Rody walked after him. It wasn’t long before they entered the dining room. He saw Vincent sitting at the head of the long table. Two other servants stood next to him. One was a woman with blond hair tied back in a bun and stormy blue eyes. The other was an older, more portly gentleman, with brown hair and a handlebar mustache. The table was empty, except for the glass of red wine he held and the bottle right next to it. Rody saw he was swirling the glass somewhat absentmindedly before he took notice of him.

“Ah. You’re here.” He smiled warmly at him. “I take it you already met Alphonse, my butler.” Alphonse bowed towards them. “This is Lucille, my maid, and Etienne, my coachman.” Rody shook both their hands politely. They both smiled warmly, but said nothing, which Rody found a bit strange but he shook it off. “They’re quite tired, so they’re just about to turn in for the night. You were just in time to meet them.” Vincent turned towards them and gently waved his hand. They were dismissed.

“Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable.” Rody sat down at one of the plush chairs. In front of him was a bowl of french onion soup and a small slice of bread with a tiny plate of butter next to it.
“Is there anything you’d like to drink? I’m sure you must’ve been thirsty travelling all the way here. How about a nice cup of tea? It’ll help warm you up.”
Rody nodded and Vincent turned briefly to Alphonse to let him know his request. Then, once Alphonse stepped away, he turned back towards him. There was a gentle smile on his face.

“Now tell me,” he paused, then said “What brings you here, Rody? To this Manor?”

For a moment, Rody’s mind raced. 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩? 𝘕𝘰, 𝘯𝘰. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐’𝘮 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵? 𝘖𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘮𝘦? 𝘕𝘰, 𝘯𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯- 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦- 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘵!

“I-I um. I got lost.” He breathed out shakily. “I-I..”
Vincent’s brows furrowed with concern. “You can take your time. I don’t have any other pressing matters right now. Just you.”

Rody stared at him nervously. He could still feel his teeth chattering from the cold, even though he was no longer in the rain- having been properly dried off and changed with his hair still slightly damp.

“I-I was trying to go home. To my village. But I got lost in the forest, it was so dark and I…” He took another deep breath. “I’m terribly sorry for intruding, I know it’s so late in the evening and I-”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing, Rody. It’s alright if you stay here, I don’t mind at all.”
Rody glanced at him hesitantly. “Are..are you sure?”
“Positive. And besides, it’s nice to have company.” Vincent looked away. “It’s been a while since someone last visited.” For a moment, Rody could have sworn he saw a faint expression in his eyes. 𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴..𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧…𝘴𝘢𝘥.. But it disappeared just as quickly and his gentle look came back.
“As I was saying, Rody, you are welcome to stay here as long as you need to until you find your way back to your village-”

𝘎𝘙𝘙𝘙𝘙𝘖𝘞𝘞𝘞𝘓…

His words were cut off by Rody’s stomach growling. Rody felt his cheeks reddening, embarrassed. He met Vincent’s gaze awkwardly.
Then Vincent started laughing and then he laughed as well.

“I think it’s time you should try the soup.”

“Oh, right!” He had completely forgotten about eating until his stomach decided to tell him otherwise.

He took one of the spoons and used it to take a sip of the soup. His face immediately lit up.

“Ish gud!” Before he knew what he was doing his arms began moving faster and faster and then he was gobbling up the soup and bread hungrily like a starved animal who hadn’t eaten in days. He was too busy to notice Vincent glancing at him with a curious look in his eye.

“Rody?”
“Mm?” He paused mid-bite, mouth stuffed with food.
“It’s nothing. Nothing wrong. It’s just that…” Vincent looked like he was hiding something suspiciously.
“Whaot ish it?” Rody narrowed his eyes.
“Well, I’ve just-” He paused, attempting to compose himself.

“I’ve never seen anyone use a tea spoon to drink soup.” And then he started laughing and Rody realised he was trying to hold back his laughter.
He stared at him dumbfounded.
“M’ sorry,” Vincent raised one finger and- 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘱𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦!?
“It’s just that there’s a spoon RIGHT THERE that’s twice as big, and you went for the smallest-” He broke off laughing again.
“Quit making fun of me.” Rody protested. “Alright, alright!”
Just then, Alphonse came back with a cup of tea on a saucer. “For you, monsieur.” He accepted it gratefully and took a sip.

𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘦𝘢? He peered down at the liquid. There was a single slice of lemon floating on top. 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴, he thought.

“So um. What do you do all day besides living here alone?” Vincent stared at him. Once again, there was a curious look in his eyes.
“I cook. But besides that, not much.”
Rody glanced down again, but this time to his empty soup bowl.
“So you made that?” Vincent nodded.
“Yes, I cook everything and for everyone in this manor.”
“Woah! You must have cooked a lot of fancy recipes in the past!”
Vincent took a sip of his wine. “Yes, you could say that.”
“So what’s your favourite food to make?”
Vincent paused. He took another sip.
“Hmm…” He mulled over it thoughtfully. “I’d have to say… it would be foie gras.”
“What’s that?” 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺, he wondered.
“It’s when you take a fattened goose or duck and you cut it open, until its insides spill out and then you take out the liver, which has been stuffed to the brim and then you sear it over a pan with lots of oil and heat and watch it simply cooked to perfection. And then you serve it on a crisp, clean plate and then you taste all the rich buttery texture melting right in your mouth.”

The way that Vincent described it sounded so delicious that it made Rody’s mouth start watering all over again. Yet there was something about the way he described it that was somewhat…𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨. But he didn’t have time to think about it more because what happened next made his blood run cold.

“Ah-” There was a trickle of blood that ran down Vincent’s nose. He held up a finger to catch it.

There was a dark look in Vincent’s eyes. It almost looked as if…𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦. Then just as suddenly, he smiled as if nothing had happened.

“You should probably get some rest. Alphonse will lead you to the guest room.”

“What about you?” Vincent looked at Rody’s concerned expression. His gaze softened.

“It’s just a nosebleed. Nothing to worry about. I’ll be resting early tonight.”
And without another word, he rose and walked out into the dark hallway, leaving Rody on his own wondering what on earth had just happened.

[Click here to go to The Guest Room]

[Return to The Bathroom?]

Chapter 5: The Guest Room

Notes:

This is where the plot begins to thicken

Candle in hand, Alphonse leads Rody up the grand staircase, the small glow of the flame casting shadows over the faded wallpaper and paintings they pass by. He led him down a darkened hallway that felt a lot longer than a hallway should be. But then, they eventually stopped in front of a wooden door. The older gentlemen hadn’t said a single word up until then. He turned, facing Rody.

“For you, Monsieur.” He held a key in his hand. Rody took it. “Uh thanks.”
Alphonse stared at him blankly. There was an uncanny way his eyes looked at him. The way he was watching him. 𝘖𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

Rody stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do.
“I, uh, I’ll get going then. Good night!” Alphonse kept staring. The candle wax began to drip from the overflowing holder. Without waiting, he turned the key and opened the door. He shut it closed behind him, breathing out a sigh of relief.

𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮, 𝘙𝘰𝘥𝘺. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴.

He looked around. A four poster bed stood in the center of the room. It had a sheer white curtain tied to each post. There was an old grandfather clock in the corner of the room. He noticed that the time had stopped at 12 o’clock. It didn’t look broken, but instead seemed to need winding. Beside it was a wardrobe, dresser, and a few other smaller pieces of furniture.

Facing the bed was a large oil painting. He took a step closer.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵..? It was the most uncanny painting he’s ever seen.
There was a woman who lay sleeping- or unconscious. On top of her stomach was a grotesque creature that looked like an imp or goblin. Next to the creature was what looked like a black horse, except unlike regular horses, it had pale milky white eyes. Thankfully enough, the horse didn’t seem to be looking at him. The woman’s eyes were also closed. But when he looked back at the goblin, he noticed how it seemed to be…𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 at him.

He shuddered and looked away quickly, breath coming in fast.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵!? He shook his head. 𝘐 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘐 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴! 𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴…𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴..𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨!

𝘚𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱…𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩..𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰.
So he took off his mud stained shoes and set his other pair of clothes on the chair next to the nightstand and tucked himself into the covers.
𝘎𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱- he frantically thought. He shut his eyes tightly, willing for sleep to come, grasping the sheets fitfully while anxious thoughts swarmed his mind.

 

—

 

𝘛𝘏𝘜𝘋!

Rody woke up with a startled gasp. He clutched at the covers frantically, a cold sweat breaking out from his shoulders to down his back.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯..? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘦?

But he didn’t have any time to gather his thoughts. Because right then, before he could speak, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮.

𝘈𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳.

𝘊𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳.

𝘊𝘓𝘖𝘚𝘌𝘙.

He began to tremble, breath coming in fast. He held the covers to his mouth, not daring to utter a single breath.

A pale hand reached out to pull back the sheer white drape. The moment he saw it he lost all the control he had over hiding his fear.

𝘈𝘏𝘏𝘏𝘏𝘏𝘏𝘏!

The hand stops. Then, a sweet voice called out.
“Rody..?” It called out hesitantly, sounding uncertain. For some reason, he thought that the voice sounded oddly familiar, reminding of someone he was quite close to in the past…
Nervously, he approached the edge of the bed, and then in a single motion, drew back the curtains.

“𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯!? he cried. There, right in front of him, stood a girl with long brown hair. She wore an ivory white nightgown that shone from the moonlight’s reflection.

“How are you- no, where, when-” Rody stuttered.
“Shh!” Manon brought a finger to her lips. She glanced around the room nervously. “Rody, I haven’t got much time. He’ll be back any minute.”

“What do you mean? Who’s he- wait you mean Vincent?” Manon whispered furiously at him. “SHH! I told you to keep your voice down! Can you do that for me?”

Rody nodded. “Good.” She smiles, relieved. “And yes, it is him.” She looks at him worriedly. “You see,” she paused, gathering her thoughts.
“Vincent..isn’t what you think he is. He’s a 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲.”

“What..?” Rody felt his face go pale. “But that’s impossible!”
Manon shook her head vigorously. “No, no! It’s the truth! That’s because he…he…” She took a deep breath.

“He was the one who killed me and turned me into a ghost.”

“Y-You’re a g-g-ghost!?” Manon pouted. “Rody!” she hissed. “What did I tell you about staying quiet?” “Oh right, sorry!”

“As I was saying,” she continued, “Vincent was the one who did this to me. I wish I could say I was making this up, you saw for yourself how sweet he was to you, but that’s just a lie.”

She glanced up at him, eyes pleading, “Listen, Rody. You can’t trust anything he says. Do you understand?” Rody nodded.
“Rody, before I say anything else, I need you to promise me something. Can you promise me that you’ll help me? Please, I need you to believe me- I’ve been trapped here for who knows how long, I need your help.”
The way she looked at him, Rody felt his heart breaking into two. She looked so sad, so desperate. So he nodded again. “Okay, Manon. I promise I’ll help you. I’ll do anything for you- just don’t look so sad, I can’t bear to see you like that.”
“Anything?” she asked tentatively. There was something odd about the way she said it. But for the life of him, Rody couldn’t put a finger on what that was.
“Anything.” Rody glanced back up at her. “Now tell me the rest and what you need me to do.”

Manon nodded. “You said he couldn’t be a vampire, right? But did you notice how when you were eating dinner earlier, he wasn’t eating with you?”

𝘖𝘩.“But it was very late at night. He could have eaten beforehand.” Manon’s face scrunched up, but she continued, “Then what was he drinking? Do you think it’s a coincidence it’s red wine, of all things!?”

“Maybe he just likes the taste?” said Rody. Manon stared at him blankly. “No, Rody! You see, I’ve read a lot of vampire stories- or well, I used to, before I’m a ghost. That's a story for another time. The point is, don’t you think there’s a chance he could’ve y’know…mixed in blood with his wine..? Or drink blood straight from his glass?” She sighs, slightly exasperated. “The very least I know from those stories, even if it’s just folklore, it’s better to pay attention to than not, don’t you think?”

“So why hasn’t he bit me yet?” Manon looked at him. Like he was an idiot. “I don’t know the answer to that, Rody. Maybe he’s waiting for the right moment. It’s only been several hours since you came here after all.”

Rody thought for a moment. There was a long silence between them, with Manon looking at him frustratingly, and Rody staring blankly. Finally he spoke.
“Is it because I’m a werewolf?”
“You’re a..?” Manon looked at him in surprise. “Y-yeah, um sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I figured I’d at least let you know so you feel more protected…” he trailed off. “Or maybe that makes you more scared..haha…what am I doing..”

“No, no. That was very brave of you, Rody.” She nods, looking more hopeful. “This is good news. Werewolves and vampires naturally don’t mix. I’ve read werewolf blood is poisonous to vampires so it would make sense why Vincent hasn’t bit you yet. That is, if he knew you were a werewolf. I think he’s being cautious which is why he hasn’t tried it yet.”

There was something else bothering Rody in the back of his mind. He finally realised what it was.

“How did you know I was eating dinner with Vincent? Was it because you’re a ghost?” he said.
“Yes, it’s because I’m a ghost. Of course I can do ghostly things! What’d you expect? I’ve been watching over you, Rody.” she replied.
“Were you the one looking at me from those two paintings?” He shivered.
“Eeugh.” A shudder ran through his body. “Please don’t do that, it creeps me out.”

“It’s the safest way to hide from him! I don’t know for sure if he can see me or not, because he’s not human, but I can’t afford to risk it if he does!” protested Manon.

“And besides, you know I’m here now.” She takes a deep breath. “Rody, I need you to help me find the truth about this place. Vincent’s hiding something. And I don’t think it’s just me he’s been after. I think you’re his next victim.”

Rody’s shocked expression stared back at her. “Oh Rody…” She crept closer to him and placed both hands on the sides of his cheeks. He noticed they felt surprisingly solid and faintly warm- not like what he’d expected from a ghost to feel like. She smiled gently at him while he looked at her glumly. “Promise me you’ll stop him? Even if you find my dead body and lay it to rest, I’d still be happy. But I can’t stand the thought of him trying to hurt anyone else, including you. There’s only so much I can do.”
“Okay…” he said reluctantly.

He looked out, past the open curtain, to the window. It was open, with the cool night breeze flowing past them, causing Manon’s nightgown to sway gently with the wind. Outside, he could see the moon, which was waxing crescent shaped. It was high in the sky. 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, he thought. He didn't need the old broken clock to tell him that.

“Rody?” He turned back to look at her. “You should get some rest, I know it’s quite late. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow. You’ll be needing as much strength as you can get."
He nodded and whispered a “good night” to her and then turned and found his way back into the soft, warm duvet. Already he could feel his eyes closing as he soon drifted off to sleep.

[Click here to go to The Kitchen]

[Return to The Bathroom?]

Notes:

The painting in front of Rody's bed is 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦 by Henri Fuseli

Chapter 6: The Kitchen

Notes:

[TW gore, animal death]

The next morning, Rody woke to the sound of a small noise. 𝘛𝘢𝘱-𝘵𝘢𝘱-𝘵𝘢𝘱!
A pause. Then, 𝘵𝘢𝘱-𝘵𝘢𝘱-𝘵𝘢𝘱!
𝘏𝘯𝘯𝘨𝘩... He opened his eyes blearily, still not quite awake yet. He groaned, trying to recall what had happened yesterday. 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦… If he wasn't lying in the unfamiliar bed at the very moment, he would have thought it to be a very strange dream. The morning sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains.

He blinked a couple of times. His eyes looked around the room, trying to find the source of the noise. 𝘛𝘢𝘱-𝘵𝘢𝘱-𝘵𝘢𝘱!

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦! He exclaimed. It was coming from the window. He approached it, and took a look. Now that it was daytime, he could see outside the Manor. The entire house was surrounded by forest. Tall pine trees towered high above his window, blocking out most of the sky. A thin, hazy white mist seemed to surround the woods when he looked into the distance, preventing him from seeing beyond the trees.
𝘛𝘢𝘱! Rody turned his head and saw there was a small black bird beside the window. It was a crow. Currently, it was peering at him curiously.

“So you were the one who woke me up.” he said aloud. It cocked its head, tilting to one side. “Couldn’t you have spared me a couple of hours..?” he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
The crow said nothing.
𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨? 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭-

Then suddenly, the crow arched its head back. It made a strangled croaking sound, wings flapping. And then it choked out something small and pale white- 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦? He realised it was the skull of a tiny creature. 𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘶𝘭𝘭!?

“Alright, this is too weird, I’m going to go have breakfast-” and without looking back, Rody left the window and turned and got changed. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, he thought.

 

—

 

Rody closed the door of his guest room, locking it behind him. He noticed that even though it was now morning, the hallways still looked quite dark. The sconces and chandelier candles from last evening he could tell have been long since extinguished.

He walked down the hallway. It was surprisingly empty. “Vince..?” he called out. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯? 𝘈𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘥? 𝘈𝘭𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘵? 𝘕𝘰.. “Alphonse?” he tried.

Still no answer. Huh. It’s weird that there’s no one here. There was one other person he hadn’t tried yet.

“Manon..?”
Instantly a voice spoke up behind him.
“Yes, Rody?”
“AHH!” He jumped and turned around. And there she stood. Still wearing the white nightgown from last night. Still looking slightly pale and translucent. Still a ghost. Rody tried to not think about the ghost part. If he was being honest, it was still creeping him out.
“Manon! You scared me!” he exclaimed.
“Oh, sorry.” she said. “I told you yesterday that I’d talk to you tomorrow, which is today, this morning. You didn’t forget, did you?”
“No, um.” He looked down nervously. “I-I guess I’m just not used to you being a ghost and all.”

She nodded with a look of understanding. “That’s alright.” Then she glanced around the hallway.
“Listen, Rody. Do you hear anything?” she asked. Rody looked around, straining his ears for any noise. There was only silence.
He shook his head. “That’s right. It’s too quiet.”
Then she looked up at him, with a soft smile. “Vampires usually sleep during the day, so my guess is Vincent is fast asleep. This means we can explore the house,” she said excitedly.

“Alright.” Rody agreed. “But first, breakfast.”

 

—

 

Manon followed Rody down the staircase towards the dining room. When they got there, Rody found there was something already waiting for him on the table.

“This must be the breakfast,” he said out loud. Manon only merely stood beside him.

There were three plates in front of him, each covered with a silver metal cloche bell cover. He lifted the first one. It was a round ceramic dish with six holes- five on the outside and one in the middle. Inside of it was some kind of food- he couldn’t tell what it was. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘩?
A small loaf of bread with a crock of butter was next to it.

“It smells really good.” Without waiting another moment, he reached for a spoon and took a bite. 𝘔𝘮𝘮! The texture was buttery, savoury, and warm and comforting. He didn’t really know what he was eating- it felt like a combination of a poached egg and roasted mushrooms, but whatever it was he scarfed it down along with some buttered bread.

“Say, Rody.” said Manon. “Mpmh?” He looked at her mid-bite.
“You do know what escargot is made of, right..?” There was an odd look on her face.
“No, why?”
“It's made from 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴.”
Instantly, Rody began coughing. Manon only smiled at him, grinning brightly, much to his disappointment.
“Why- didn’t you say so earlier!? Maaannnon..” he groaned. She held up her hand daintily while laughing quietly. “I just couldn’t ruin the surprise. And besides. Looks like you enjoyed it regardless.”

Rody found he couldn’t disagree with her on that. Face burning with embarrassment, he decided to open the next cover.

It was a plate with raw oysters. A single wedge of lemon was at the center.
“What..what is this?” There was no way he could eat this. Although faint, he could still smell the salty tang of seawater and the fishy undertones- just the thought of seafood makes him feel sick. Even as a young child, Rody could never stand eating fish. Maybe because of his werewolf inheritance, his heightened sense of smell had always made him find the fishy odour of seafood to be overpowering.

He covered the plate. And then he moved to the next one.
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦, he thought. He opened it.

“W-What..?” His eyes widened.

In the middle of the plate was a dead rat. Its organs were spilled out, intestines laid bare on the cold ceramic. He could see its small ribcage from where its stomach had been sliced open. A few strawberries rested behind it. There was a small note beside the plate. Fingers shaking, he slowly picked it up. It read:

ᦓꪻ᥅ꪖ᭙᥇ꫀ᥅᥅ꪗ ᦓꫝꪮ᥅ꪻᥴꪖᛕꫀ

“S-Strawberry…shortcake..?” his voice quivered. Rody could barely make out the words, squinting at the terrible handwriting.

His head suddenly felt light. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his head, the world around him began to spin. On top of him feeling dizzy, there was a deep pit that began to swirl in his stomach; a type of nausea that threatened to consume one whole the moment it had the very chance-

A scream rang out. In the distance, through his blurry vision, he saw Manon. She was holding her arms tightly, clutching at her shoulders. In front of her was the plate. His vision began to clear the more he focused on her.

“Manon?” he called out to her. She was badly shaking. “Rody..?” her voice trembled. “What..what is this.?” she whispered.

Rody stepped forward, slowly moving to her side. He held her gaze, trying to make sure he was what she saw, not the rat. “Manon,” he said firmly. “I’m here. There’s no need to be frightened.” Despite his own fear, he pushed it down. 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

He held out his hand. She looked at it blankly, eyes still wide. “Manon. I’m not sure how we’re going to do this.” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “But if Vinc-.” He stopped himself. “If he tries to do anything else to you, I promise I will do everything I can to stop him. I promise I will uncover the truth so you don’t have to be afraid.” Rody held out both his hands, palms faced open. A gesture of invitation. Slowly, fingers shaking, she took it. She looked at him, fear in her eyes. Rody noticed how her hands were a lot colder than when she first held him.

“Come on. Let’s go somewhere else for the time being.” He gently reached behind him and covered the plate with the metal cloche.

Then, he led her to the closest room he could find.

 

—

 

Rody didn’t know the first thing when it came to supernatural creatures- he sure had no clue if ghosts could actually eat or drink things. But he did know that Manon, his 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥, likes a cup of tea whenever she’s feeling down. That was one of her favourite things in the world, she told him. Whenever she got sick, she would always ask Rody to make it for her. Or on a cold autumn day, when it rained, she would have a warm pot ready for the two of them, while she watched the rain as she waited for Rody’s shift to end.

Eating leftovers with Manon from whichever taverns and pubs he worked at in their village with a warm cup of tea, and chatting under the dim light of the oil lantern beside their table at Manon’s family home, was one of the best memories to this day.

So naturally, his first thought was to go to the kitchen.

He pushed the double doors open. Polished silver countertops shone brightly. Pots and pans were neatly stacked, tucked away in their places. The black and white checkered marble floor looked like it had been recently scrubbed. Not a single stain or speck of dust was in sight.

And yet…

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. He realised.
The kitchen was completely empty. No sign of life. Not even mice scurrying about. He looked around. There was no trace of his breakfast having been prepared at all. Except..

There, on one of the countertops furthest away from him, was an object.
He walked closer. It was a wooden cutting board. On top of it was a single lemon, with two slices cut from it. Beside it, a pot of tea. There was a large puddle of spilled tea surrounding the board.

He approached it until he stood right in front of it. He could see his own reflection in the puddle of tea on the countertop.

There were exactly two cups beside the teapot. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥... 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.. He picked up the teapot in his hands. It was cold. He didn’t need to sniff it to know it was black tea. 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘺? 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴. And it would have made perfect sense except for the fact that the lemon looked to have been freshly cut.

He shook his head. 𝘐 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴. 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯. Rody reached down to pour her a cup of tea.

That was when his fingers brushed past something.
Hmm? There was a white slip of paper he didn’t see earlier. He picked it up.
It read, in the worst handwriting he’s ever seen:

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍.
𝙾𝚑, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚋𝚢 _______

𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩!? Rody wondered. He peered at it closer. It was the same writing as the message from the rat plate earlier. There was a small black smudge where part of the writing was supposed to be. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘣𝘺 ? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯? It looked like a name had been marked out. He brushed it over with a finger, and then instinctively sniffed at it. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦…𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴?

𝘞𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥. 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦… He picked up the half-filled teapot and cups, balancing it in the crook of his arm, and began to turn around.

𝘊𝘢𝘸! Rody jumped slightly. He stopped and looked back. There, on the windowsill was a black crow. “You again!?” he exclaimed. The bird tilted its head. It held a slice of lemon in its beak.
“One of these days, you’re going to give me a worse fright than I already have.” He exhaled, closing his eyes. The crow strutted closer, its tiny hooked feet clicking against the smooth counter. He opened one eye.

There, tucked into its neck, was another small slip of paper. Slowly, he reached out and pried it away from the feathers it was nestled in.

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝙺𝚛𝚘𝚠. 𝙸𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜.
𝙼𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚒𝚝.

“Mon Dieu!” 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘺! 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸? 𝘈𝘭𝘴𝘰, 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘴. He noticed a fountain pen resting on the counter. Rody snatched it and scribbled out a message on the back.
“Write…better…next time. And you can’t just name your crow ‘Krow’, pick something that actually has character!’’ 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦! He fumed. The mysterious message-writer was really starting to get on his nerves. Actually, the entire Manor was starting to annoy him. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯, he reminded himself.

He picked up the teacups and finally, he was able to turn around and walk away from the counter.
“Manon?” he called. There was only silence. 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨.
He tried again. “Manon!” A voice spoke beside his ear.
“Yes?”

“AHH!” He yelled in surprise. There she was, standing in front of him. She stared at him, slightly confused. “Rody, why do you look so startled?”
“I-I’m not used to this! You keep appearing and disappearing beside me! At least a little warning would be nice..?”
She shook her head in dismay. “I can’t seem to help it.” Rody’s gaze softened.

“Then..maybe I should just get used to it..yeah..”
“Did you find anything helpful?” she asked. Rody rubbed his sleeves, fidgeting. “I-I brought you some tea..? Y’know, to help calm your nerves?”
He looked at her with a weak smile.
“Oh, Rody.” she scoffed at him. “As much as I wish I could drink it, ghosts can’t very well have tea. At least without it spilling that is.”
She glanced past him, looking in the distance. For a split second, Rody could have sworn that her eyes…𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥.

𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦?

But then she glanced back up at him and she looked the same as before.
“I’ve got some good news! While you were in the kitchen, I found four other rooms! There’s a library, a greenhouse, a bedroom, and a study. I think we should go to the library first! There’s bound to be a lot of clues in the books there! Follow me,” she smiled gently at him and reached out her hand. Rody took it and they walked back out into the hallway.

[Explore The Library]

[Explore The Master Bedroom]

[Explore The Greenhouse]

[Explore Vincent's Study]

[Return to the Bathroom]

Notes:

Hello!
If the special character font doesn't show up, please let me know!
I try to make Rody repeat what the messages say or give context clues, but in case it's still hard to read, I can try to fix it or make a note at the end of each chapter.

Hope that helps!

Chapter 7: The Library

Rody pushed the heavy oak door. It swung open slowly, creaking as it moved. Inside, towers of books were stacked up high. They were so tall that some of the shelves reached almost to the top of the ceiling. And the ceiling itself was a lot taller than the rest of the rooms.

Candles flickered on the desks and on the walls. They cast long shadows across the spines of various tomes.

𝘈𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰! He sneezed. 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘴. Of course the dust had to get trapped in his nose. There was a thin layer of dust covering the bookshelves. It looked like this room hadn’t been used in a long time.

“Right, then.” He turned to Manon. “What exactly are we looking for here?”
She paused, taking in their surroundings.
“Hmm. If I remember correctly, there should be a 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗹𝗹 to banish vampires somewhere around here. It’s in a grimoire, or a spellbook. I think I saw it before I was…” She trailed off glancing down at the library’s wooden floor. 𝘉𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥.
“Anyway, you should start searching. I wish I could help you, but unfortunately, I can’t read anymore.”

“What? How come?” he asked her, surprised.
“I-It must be a ghost thing!” She tugged at the hem of her nightdress. “I don’t know why but every time I try to read something, it always looks blurry. I can see pictures just fine, though.”

Rody stepped forward. He glanced at the desk in front of him. On it, stacks of books were piled high, notes and various written letters and tools, pens, pencils, ink jars were scattered across it. At the center of the desk, there was a book opened.

He moved closer to it. It appeared to be some kind of book about plants. He dusted off the page, and glanced at the cover. It read: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘍𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴. The page was opened to a chapter on “flowers that affect supernatural beings.” There were 3 flowers underlined in red ink:

𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗲 - symbolizes danger and deceit. Yet it is also traditionally seen as a symbol of romance, mystery, and beauty. Flowers appear dark purple, with blackish round berries. Highly poisonous. Used in many witchcraft spells and ointments for its hallucinogenic properties and out-of-body experiences.

𝗪𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗮 - symbolizes good fortune and prosperity. Flowers are light purple with long strands that grow from the main tree. In Japan, it is believed to have the power to ward off demons, ghosts, and malevolent spirits.

𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳𝘀𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗲 - symbolizes protection. Flowers appear a deep violet hue- not quite dark or light. Highly poisonous, especially to werewolves. In high doses, it will lead to death. When used in magical rituals, it can induce out-of-body experiences.

“What’d you find?” asked Manon curiously.
“It looks like some kind of magic herb book,” said Rody. He showed her an illustration of one of the flowers.

She frowned. “That’s very interesting, Rody. But I don’t think it’ll be helpful. You should keep looking.”

He nodded, but made a mental note to come back to the book. He stood up and walked over to one of the bookshelves.
𝘏𝘮𝘮… Rody doesn’t have much experience when it comes to finding books- so when it comes to him being in a library, a place with more books he’s seen in his lifetime, it was like he was surrounded by an unknown world.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘥𝘰? 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱? He glanced over at her. She was standing in the corner, running a hand in her hair. It looked like she was deep in thought. 𝘕𝘰, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯.
He squinted at the shelves. Rows upon rows of leather bound spines- some soft, others worn and cracked were in front of him. Suddenly, he spots a book on a shelf. It was some kind of spellbook, with gold lettering that caught his eye. He reached forward to grab it.

Just then, his leg tripped over a wooden stool. He went sprawling.
𝘖𝘰𝘧! Landing face-first onto a dusty stack of books. “Rody?” called out Manon. She appeared in front of him.

“What are you doing, silly? You’re going to get dust all over your clothes!” She started dusting off his clothes. “Be more careful next time.”
Rody nodded, not quite hearing her words. Because in front of him, lying next to the stool, was a large book. It was open to a page on Deadly Monsters.

Suddenly, he stood up, startling Manon. “I think I found something!” He reached over and picked it up. The title read: 𝘌𝘯𝘤𝘺𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘊𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴. He flipped through it excitedly.
“What’s this?” she asked him. She peered at the strange drawings of various monsters. “I think it’s a guidebook of sorts,” he replied. “Wait, look!”

He turned the pages until he got to a section called, Humanoid Creatures. And then he stopped on a section that had Vampires on it. Two other creatures were also underlined in red ink.
𝘏𝘶𝘩. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵. Most of the info he already knew, so he skimmed over only the important details. “What does it say?” asked Manon. Rody cleared his throat and began to read aloud:

“𝘝𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘺𝘱𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮- 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 ... . 𝘜𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭 𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 ... .𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘴… 𝘝𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳.”

Immediately, Manon perks up. “We should go look for something that’s silver!” Rody nodded absentmindedly. Manon moved away to continue searching. He kept reading, but this time silently. The two other underlined sections were Werewolves and Ghosts. In the Werewolf section it’s stuff Rody mostly already knew. Except a small part that said:

𝘞𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳- 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴.

He sucked in a breath. 𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯, he thought to himself. Rody reached the bottom of the page, just to where the Ghost section was.
“What the-?” The page was torn. It looked like the entire section about ghosts was completely ripped out. Tucked in the corner at of the page, beside where it was torn, was a small note. Rody unfolded it. It read, in slightly neater handwriting:

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛?
“Barely!” Rody said under his breath.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚕𝚎, 𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚏. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗.

𝙾𝚑, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘 𝚘𝚗 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚜.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯? He thought, sulking. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵!
He flips over the note a few times, pressing his thumb against it. He noticed that the ink smudged slightly. 𝘏𝘶𝘩. 𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯.

Rody began to wonder just who on earth this mysterious note-writer was. 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵? 𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥- 𝘯𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯- He inhaled sharply. Then he let out a deep breath. 𝘍𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴, 𝘙𝘰𝘥𝘺! He thought about it once more. 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘳? 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱? 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦- 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘢 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭… He trailed off, lost in thought.

Suddenly, he heard Manon’s voice ring out.
“Rody! Over here!” She waved at him with one hand. He rushed to her side.
“What happen-” he started but she cut him off immediately.
”This is it!” cried Manon. She held up a large, leather bound book. The title read: 𝘎𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴.
“Oh, you found it!” he grinned at her. “Look, look!” She flipped the heavy tome open, and pointed a finger at a page marked with a ribbon. The title read: 𝗦𝗽𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗕𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗨𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱. She looked at him excitedly.
“We finally found it! Now if we just gather the ingredients listed here, we can free ourselves from the Manor!”

Rody peered over her shoulder. He read the words out loud,

“𝘛𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦. 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦-𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸.”
There was a phrase written in Latin. It read:

𝗔𝗯𝗶, 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘂𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗼𝗿𝘂𝗺 𝗻𝗼𝗰𝗻𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗮

Rody glanced at it. He wisely decided not to read it out loud, and then continued on reading.
“𝘐𝘯 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭.”

He glanced at Manon. Their eyes met. She looked hesitant, uncertain.
“Rody. When the time comes, can you promise me you’ll hand over control to me?” she said softly. He looked into her eyes. They did not shine. It only looked dark, like blackened ash. 𝘈𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺.
“Of course, Manon.” He smiled gently at her. “I already promised you, didn’t I?”
She grinned back at him. “Yes, yes you have.”
She tucked the Grimoire under one of the sleeves of her white nightgown. Then, she got up and dusted off her skirt.
“Come on. We should probably go investigate the other rooms.” She walked towards the door, Rody trailing behind in her footsteps.

However,
In the back of his mind, there was something still gnawing at him.
𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬?
𝘋𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥? 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳…

𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘣𝘶𝘵…𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦…𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰..?
He felt the crumpled note in his pocket. Reminding him of where the spellbook was located. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳.
With horror, Rody began to realise something. A growing pit began to form in the bottom of his stomach.

Because there could only be one possibility.

Manon must have known where it was from the very start.

 

[Explore The Master Bedroom]

[Explore The Greenhouse]

[Explore Vincent's Study]

[Return to the Bathroom?]

Notes:

Please let me know if the paragraphs are hard to read, I'll do my best to fix it!

Chapter 8: The Master Bedroom

Rody followed Manon back to the main entrance of the Manor. Together, they climbed up the grand staircase.

They passed in front of Rody’s guest room, and for a brief moment, Rody thought they were going back inside, but Manon kept walking. He followed her to the end of the hall until they stopped in front of a set of double doors.

Manon turned to him, glowing candle in hand.
“Rody,” she whispered. “We’re going to enter the master bedroom. Stay quiet for me, alright?” He spun around in shock.
“Manon! We can’t just enter Vince’s bedroom! Thats- thats-” He sputtered.
She raised an eyebrow. “Because that’s against his privacy?”
“Yes, exactly! What if he catches us!?” He hissed furiously. Manon only looked at him solemnly. For a long moment she said nothing.
Then she finally spoke.
“Privacy or not, we have to at least try. There's definitely something he's not telling us.” Rody only stared blankly at her. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨…

Without waiting for his reply, she slowly turned the doorknob and pushed it open.

Just like Rody’s guest room, the master bedroom was well furnished with drawers and wardrobes, and ornate rugs. But unlike his room, it looked more luxurious. In the center of the room, there was a four poster bed. Silk red curtains were draped to the side of each of the four posts. Another layer of curtain, this one a sheer white, was currently drawn so that the mattress and cover were partially hidden. 𝘈𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘯. He exhaled in relief.

As Rody stepped inside the room, he peered closer.

There was something- no, someone on the bed.
It was Vincent.
The moment he saw him, Rody turned pale.
“Manon..?” he started uneasily. “This..this feels wrong. Vince is 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.”
“Oh hush! He’s not going to wake up that easily! It’s the middle of the night for him!” she whispered back. She gazed at him. There was a fierce look of determination in her eyes.

“If you’re so worried about getting caught, you should start searching his room before he does! It’s a chance worth taking!”

Rody shifted slightly. For some reason it felt like Manon was more…harsh than her usual self. 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯. He felt uneasy. Because it was Manon who once taught him about self advocacy and having boundaries. 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺…𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺..

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘰𝘥𝘥. He thought long and hard, but he couldn’t remember any details about their relationship. 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯..𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦…𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. 𝘠𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘵!

He took a deep breath. “Of course, Manon,” he agreed.
𝘓𝘦𝘵’𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘨𝘰. 𝘞𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘰.

Rody scanned the room. 𝘓𝘦𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦…
He tiptoed quietly over to one of the nightstands to the right of the bed.
Just as he stood in front of it, however, he heard a small noise. Rody froze.
Vincent was shifting in his sleep. Rody very cautiously looked toward him. He was sleeping very fitfully, tossing every few seconds. Rody pressed his ear closer to the curtain.

There was something Vincent was murmuring. He spoke very fervently.
“I-I need….no, no… I can’t let you do that…”

For a long moment, Rody held his breath. He felt his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Then, Vincent turned over to the other side and Rody sighed in relief. 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴… 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭. Very carefully, he slowly opened the drawer of the nightstand. He shut his eyes, half-expecting something to jump out at him. It was just an ordinary dresser. 𝘗𝘩𝘦𝘸! 𝘕𝘰 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.

The first thing he found was an old letter. It was faded and smelled faintly like wine. It read:

𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦,

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯? 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘋𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘪𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘌𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯, 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧-𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩. 𝘐 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴- 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵.

𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺,
𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵

Attached to the letter was a small charcoal drawing. It was a picture of a younger-looking Vincent as a child holding hands with a girl beside him. Her face was blackened out from the paper. Rody dusted his hand over it. His thumb came away smudged. He lifted it to his nose and sniffed. It smelled faintly of ashes.

𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 “𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦” 𝘪𝘴.. Rody thought to himself. 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳?
There was something else in the drawer. He reached down and pulled a small piece of paper. It was a newspaper clipping.

𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘦, 1764
𝘓𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦, 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘋𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘪𝘹. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺. 𝘌𝘺𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 “𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵” 𝘰𝘳 “𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘧” 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 “𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘎𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘷𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘯” 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘥.

Rody winced. “Werewolf on a rampage, fire destroying my whole village, yep, yep, that’s me alright.”
Having seen all the contents, he closed the drawer and tiptoed over to the nightstand at the other side of the bed. Perched on top of the nightstand however, was a familiar looking black bird. Beside it, was a small bottle of lemon-flavoured cologne. 𝘏𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴, thought Rody. 𝘐 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.

“You again?” Rody looked warily at Krow. It eyed him curiously, tilting its head. He paid it no mind as he opened the second dresser.

“What the-!?” There was a book. It was a werewolf book. Except it also had the most fanciful, spectacular title of: “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘧’𝘴 𝘚𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘚𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.”
Rody instantly turned a bold shade of red. 𝘐𝘴..𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰..?

“What are you reading, darling?” Manon’s voice suddenly whispered in his ear. “AHH!” He was so caught off guard that he jumped instantly.
“I-I um.” Rody quickly put the book aside, face burning. “It’s nothing. Just a storybook-” He coughed, choking on his words. “U-Um, maybe you should check the rest of the drawer..?” he stammered nervously.

Thankfully Manon had the grace to leave him be. She nodded, and began rummaging around. Only a few moments passed before:

“Rody, look!” She waved a hand. He came over. “What is it?” he asked.
Manon opened the dresser fully, then pulled out a long sheet of paper.
“Hmm, it looks to be a blueprint of some sorts.” She mused thoughtfully, one finger touching the bottom of her lip. Rody glanced carefully at it.
It appeared to be a blueprint of the Manor. The print was dated 1764. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳. Then, he noticed something.

“Manon, look here!” He pointed at one section of the house. It was outlined in red ink. “This part wasn’t here before. I think the blueprint was a more recently finished construction of some sorts.” Manon’s face lit up.
“Rody, you might be right! There’s a message written here, what does it say?” It was a note from the builder. He cleared his throat and began reading out loud:

𝘙𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘕𝘰. 11 - 𝘍𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘤𝘦
𝘈𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙆𝙚𝙮
𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯: 𝘈 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘬 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺.

𝘙𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘕𝘰. 12 - 𝘊𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦
𝘈𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝙍𝙪𝙜 𝙆𝙚𝙮
𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯: 𝘈 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴. 𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.

“The furnace!” whispered Manon. “It must be the furnace! That’s where I last felt I was killed!” She looked at him, eyes determined. “Rody, we’ve got to find the key! It must be somewhere close, if not here then, hmm…” she trailed off, lost in thought.

“Maybe in Vince’s study?” he suggested.
“That’s right! Oh, Rody! You’re magnificent! I’m going down first, don’t wait for me.” And without another second to spare, she hurriedly left the room.

Something about the note’s wording felt a bit ominous to Rody. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘳? 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰, 𝘯𝘰 𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘳-
But before he could think any further, he felt something warm and soft press against his hand. It was Krow. It stared up at him, with its black beady little eyes. In its beak was a folded note. Rody took it.

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑, 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎.
𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢.

A cold shiver ran down his spine. With a growing realisation, he began to realise exactly who the secret note writer was. 𝘕𝘰, 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦! 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘙𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵..? Rody glanced over at Vincent. He was still sleeping.

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦?

Quietly, he slipped the note into his pocket and followed Manon out the doorway.

 

[Explore The Library]

[Explore The Greenhouse]

[Explore Vincent's Study]

[Return to the Bathroom?]

Notes:

Not Rody finding Vince's sexy werewolf book.

Also, fun fact: the Beast of Gévaudan was a real phenomenon that did happen. Whether or not it was a werewolf, that is a different story.

Please feel free to comment what your thoughts are throughout the story!
I can't promise to answer them because I want to avoid giving spoilers, but I'm always excited to hear what you all are thinking!

Chapter 9: The Greenhouse

Notes:

𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗧!!
𝗕𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿, 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗥𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝟮 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺𝘀: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗟𝗶𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗿𝘆, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗕𝗲𝗱𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺.

On the main floor, past the Manor hall with the staircase, past the dining room, past the kitchen, past the bathroom, and past the living room, there was an old glass door.

It led to the Greenhouse. Manon fiddled with the rusted door handle until it came loose. The door creaked open, hinges slightly swaying.

“Woah.” Rody breathed. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦.
Tall windowpanes towered high above him. Intricate metal beams crisscrossed and wove together in a delicate pattern similar to lace. At the very top, they curved upwards into a dome, giving the room a similar look to that of a birdcage. Yet unlike the library, it was not elegant in a well-kept way. Or at least, not anymore. Rody only needed one glance to tell that it has been at least decades since the greenhouse has been last properly maintained.

“Hmm..” Manon flipped open the spellbook. She stared at it, deep in thought.
“There’s something I want to check first. You go on ahead, Rody.” she said.
He nodded and scanned his surroundings. Overgrown weeds. Rain stains on windowpanes. The more he looked, the more the greenhouse was starting to look less majestic and more… ransacked. Outside, there was only a hazy white fog preventing him from seeing anything past the trees in the distance.

At the corner to his left, the windowpane was shattered. An empty hole the size of his fist was left behind. He could faintly hear the sound of the wind rushing past through the hole.

𝘐𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘺?
Rody moved a bit closer. That was when something caught his eye.
Something shiny was buried in the dirt. He knelt down and brushed it over with his fingertips. They felt around something hard and smooth. He kept dusting it, until he finally recognised what was in front of him. It was an old cello case. The shine came from the metal buckle straps. 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘳.

He pried at the sides, slowly lifting it open. Bits of dirt fell from the top of the case, settling into small cracks inside. There was a cello inside. And surprisingly, still well polished. The initials “V.C” were engraved inside the case. It did not take Rody that long to figure out who it belonged to.

𝘝.𝘊.
𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘶.
“So Vince plays the cello..” He grinned, satisfied. Rody felt like the years spent waiting tables having to memorise customer names were finally paying off. For once- even if it was just once- he caught on a clue quickly. 𝘐𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵.

Rody was just about to lift the cello out of the case to see if it was still playable when he heard Manon’s voice.
“Rody?” she called.
“I’m coming!” he shouted back.
𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵. He spared it one last glance. Then he strided over to Manon.

He met her standing in front of some kind of garden bed. She turned towards him, spellbook in hand.
“Rody, I need you to tell me which herb is which.” Manon paused, flipping past a few pages. She opened the book and gave it to Rody.

In front of him was some kind of diagram he didn’t recognise. It appeared to be a set of drawings of humanoid creatures using magical herbs in some kind of spell or ritual. One of those creatures was a werewolf.
“It says here,” she pointed at the description, “For one supernatural creature to gain control of casting a spell, the other must be subdued, or temporarily weakened. Unlike human spellcasters, supernatural creatures already have otherworldly powers in them- so if two creatures attempt to cast a spell together, the spell will most likely fail and cause danger to both.”
She paused, looking at Rody.
“I’m looking for a herb called 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳𝘀𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗲. Can you find it for me?”
“Uhhh.” Rody’s eyes darted nervously around the garden bed.
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩-
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you already forgot what you read.”
“N-No, no! I think I remember which one it is!” He mentally scolded himself for not bringing the plant book from the library with him.
Suddenly, Manon’s eyes locked his.
“You trust me, right? Then choose the right herb that lets me take control. Didn’t you forget? You promised me.” There was something about the way she said it that was so..𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦. He gulped nervously.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘙𝘰𝘥𝘺! 𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘧𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦. 𝘉𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘴. 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴… 𝘉𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘦…𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳..

He kneeled down. In front of him, were neat rows of labelled herbs. Including both Wolfsbane and Nightshade flowers.

𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘖𝘳 𝘐’𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺.
𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴….𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭? 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵. 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘐’𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘩𝘦𝘳! 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦? 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩. 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘧𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘸.

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𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗥𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗱𝗼?
𝗢𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗥𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝗮 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗯- 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗴𝗼 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲!
𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻.

[𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳𝘀𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗲] 𝗢𝗥 [𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗲]
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Hands shaking, Rody reached out and plucked one of the purple flowers.
“There you go,” said Manon. She smiled at him gently. Any trace of her intense stare a moment ago was long gone.
“That wasn’t so hard was it?” her voice cooed. “I knew I could count on you.” His eyes were still wide, but he managed to nod hastily.
“Now then. One or two petals should do the trick.” Manon walked closer to him, until she was right beside him. Then she whispered in his ear.
“What are you waiting for, Rody? Just swallow it already.”
Fingers trembling, he gingerly lifted up the flower to his mouth. He tried not to think about the poison spreading to his hands. Manon stared at him intensely the entire time.

He felt the delicate petals resting on the edge of his lips. Then, the tip of his tongue. And then, he swallowed. Or well, he attempted to.

𝘊𝘖𝘜𝘎𝘏, 𝘊𝘖𝘜𝘎𝘏-

“Oh dear.” Manon exclaimed. She made a 𝘵𝘶𝘵-𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 noise of disdain.
“You should go to the bathroom. Drink lots of water. It will help with forming the potion inside you.”

𝘐𝘵’𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛!?
But he didn’t have time to think about what she said.
Already, he was scrambling to his feet and running as hard as he could back inside to the Manor’s main hallway.

 

[Visit the Bathroom]

Notes:

Don’t panic just yet- there is still 1 more choice you get to make- and it is an important one. Good luck!

Chapter 10: Vincent's Study

Notes:

𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗧!!
𝗕𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿, 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗥𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝟮 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺𝘀: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗟𝗶𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗿𝘆, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗕𝗲𝗱𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺.

You should have arrived in the chapters by this order: Greenhouse -> Bathroom -> Vincent's Study

In the main entrance of the Manor, next to the living room, was an old wooden door. The words 𝘓 & 𝘑 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘶 were engraved in ornate gold lettering on it.

Rody tried the door handle. “Huh? It’s open?” he exclaimed. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥. 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨? If there was one thing Rody knew having spent years working from tavern to tavern, it’s that the office- no matter how big or small the building, how prestigious or poor the owner- always, always held secrets. Important bills. Burnt photographs. Affair letters. Rody knew enough from past experience, out of all the rooms they’ve explored together, it was no doubt this one was the most important.

“Maybe he just forgot to lock it?” suggested Manon. Rody’s brows furrowed. 𝘕𝘰. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 “𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵,” 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦… 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦.

Slowly, he pushed open the door. It creaked on its hinges.
Inside was a well-furnished study. Leather armchairs rested on red persian floor rugs. The walls were covered in bookshelves and cabinets filled with various objects that were past collected. In the center of the room was a wooden desk. Behind it, was a tall high-backed armchair. On the wall facing him was a painting.

Inside the painting was a dark bedroom. A young figure lay on top of the bed. Rody squinted. He couldn’t tell if the person was a boy or girl. Or neither. But the way the top half of their shoulders and collarbone was exposed… felt almost as if that person was about to be bitten. By whatever creature was in the darkness above. A cold bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

He shook his head. 𝘚𝘯𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘙𝘰𝘥𝘺! 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸!
𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘴. 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘦.

Rody stepped forward and walked towards the desk. On it was a series of random objects. Mostly letters and bills about the Manor. All in bad handwriting. Several leather bound books were stacked high beside a table lamp. Fountain pens and inkwells were scattered across it. Two dried lemons were on the corner. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘺… 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴?

Nothing seemed important or caught his eye on top of the desk. So he went behind it. There were five drawers. Two on each side. One just above the chair.

He opened the top left drawer. It was empty.
He opened the bottom left drawer. It was also empty.
𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵…𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 Rody thought. 𝘖𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯…
He opened the top right drawer. This time slightly faster. And more frantic. It was empty again.
Then he tried the bottom one. 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘱𝘰𝘵.

At the very edge of the corner, there was a small trinket box.
“What’d you find?” asked Manon curiously. She appeared beside him.
“I’m…not sure.” He opened it.

Inside was a silver necklace. It had a cross pendant. He reached out and touched it. No sooner had his fingers brushed against it immediately yelped in pain.
“Ow!” Rody winced. He cradled his hand, and blew air onto it, trying to fan off the burning sensation. Yep. That’s the real stuff, alright.
“Well done!” said Manon. “This is good, now that we know for sure it's silver, we can use it to restrain him!”
She rummaged through the rest of the drawer and took something out.
“Oh! This too!” A short length of rope was in her hand. Rody noticed how it was rather…narrow. It didn’t seem like it could restrain anyone with that size.
“Isn’t that a bit too small?” he asked her.
“No, it’s perfect, Rody! The smaller the rope, the harder it is to escape from. Especially if you tie it around in multiple rounds.”
Rody stared at her quizzically.
“Exactly how do you know that Manon?” He started slowly.
“It’s simple really! This is butcher’s twine.” She held it up for him to see.
“You’ve seen me use it to cook pot roast before. Sturdy stuff. Hardly ever burns or melts easily even when the oven gets hot.”

𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦, he nodded to himself. The way she described it made him feel a bit uneasy. He pushed those feelings down. There was only one drawer left. The centre one. Rody pulled it open.

He gasped. Because right there, in plain sight were two keys. One for the 𝗥𝘂𝗴. And the other for the 𝗙𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲.
“Manon, here it is.” He breathed in nervous anticipation.
She glanced at him. There was a steady determined look in her eyes.
“We’ll need the one for the fireplace to get to the furnace. It was the last place I remember before he-”

Suddenly they both heard footsteps. Right outside the door. Then the sound of a key began to turn into the lock. And slowly, ever steadily the door began moving open. 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘵!
“Rody!” hissed Manon. “There’s no time to take both! Grab the key now!”

 

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𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗥𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗱𝗼?
𝗢𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗥𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝗮 𝗸𝗲𝘆- 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗴𝗼 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲!
𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻.
[𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗥𝘂𝗴 𝗸𝗲𝘆] 𝗢𝗥 [𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗸𝗲𝘆]
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Key in hand, he slipped it into his pocket. Just as the door fully opened.
In the entrance stood Vincent. He had changed out of silk shirt and corset into a more loose-fitting nightshirt similar to his, only it was black. Besides the shirt, the only other garment he wore was a pair of soft plush slippers.

“Rody. What’re you doing here?” he asked. There was an unreadable expression on his face. He looked up at him, hoping his nerves wouldn’t betray him.

“I was uhhh looking for the..” 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘙𝘰𝘥𝘺!
“The naproom?” 𝘎𝘰𝘴𝘩 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘪𝘵!
“Y’know like a place to rest while using the bathroom. So..so like a powder room” 𝘈𝘳𝘨𝘩.. 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺!

Vincent only merely raised an eyebrow.
“You already know where the bathroom is.” he deadpanned.
“And besides.” He strode over to him. “The bathroom and powder room are the same thing.”
𝘈𝘤𝘬! 𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵! 𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨-

Rody’s thoughts cut off. Because Vincent was now standing right in front of him. He could hear his heart beating in his ears. 𝘉𝘈-𝘉𝘜𝘔, 𝘉𝘈-𝘉𝘜𝘔!

He’s so, so close. Vincent’s eyes gazed directly into him. He was slightly taller than Rody, so he stared down from above. 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘺. For a moment, there was a long tense silence. When he finally spoke, it sounded like his voice was a result of swallowing glass shards.

“Stay out of my office, Rody. Do you understand?”
“Y-Yes, Monsieur.” He managed to stammer.
“There’s no need to be formal. Just Vince will do.” His gaze softened at Rody. “Since you’re already here, you might as well keep me company.”

“Please.” He gestured to the armchair. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m sure you must have much to ask me.”
In a daze, Rody sat down. Meanwhile, Vincent walked over to one of the cabinets. He pulled out a bottle of red wine before taking a seat in the armchair opposite to Rody.
“Would you like some?” Vincent asked Rody.
“Hmm? Oh, yes please.” he replied, still lost in thought.
He poured himself a glass and one for Rody.
Rody lifted it to his lips. But just as he was about to drink it, he stopped. He peered closely at it instead. 𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘦? 𝘖𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵.. 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥?

“It’s not poisoned.” Vincent said bluntly. “If that was what you’re concerned about.”
“Oh, no no.” Rody started. “It’s just..” he trailed off.
“I’ve never had wine before.”
“Never?” Vincent eyed him curiously.
“Well, ahem-” Rody looked away, coughing. “My village isn’t exactly, well.. Y’know.” He glanced down at his hands. “Well-established.”
“Then you’re in for a treat.” Vincent held up the bottle. “This is fine Merlot wine, from France’s Bordeaux region. Hard to come by these days.”
He took a sip. “The taste is unlike anything else. Rich, smooth, velvety.”
Vincent glanced up, meeting his eyes. “And it pairs 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 well with eating red meat.”

Something about that statement unsettled Rody. The way he looked at him, it was like Vincent was implying 𝘩𝘦 was the one who was going to get eaten. Rody felt the colour slowly draining his face. He decided to change the subject.

“Where’d everyone go?”
“Hmm?”
“I mean like your servants, aren’t they supposed to be always around helping you?”
“Oh I just sent them out to run a few errands. They'll be back in the evening later.”

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵? 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦? 𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘢 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴? 𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨?

“Aren’t you going to try it?” asked Vincent.
“Wha-?” Rody snapped out of his thoughts.
“The wine, I mean.”
He realised he was still holding the glass mid-air. Face burning, Rody took a sip. His eyes lit up. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦! 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨.

“You know..” started Vincent. “You are free to leave the Manor whenever you wish. Yet there seems to be something keeping you here...”
Rody could tell Vincent was staring at him intensely. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘐’𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯. He felt his throat go dry.

Rody was never good at elegant small talk that belonged to the upper class. So he did the next best thing. He bluffed and changed the subject.
“So um.. about the strawberry shortcake..”

Instantly, Vincent’s gaze sharpened. 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦! 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘬!
“What about it? Do you not like how it tastes?”
“No, I-” His eyes began to wander around the room. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘙𝘰𝘥𝘺!
“I, um. I just never had it before. Like the wine.” He looked everywhere around the room. At the bookshelves, cabinets, even the compact mirror behind Vincent’s desk. 𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵. 𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮. It was shining directly at them. And Vincent’s back was reflected.

𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦. 𝘐𝘧 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴’𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦…𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯…?

For a long moment, Vincent stared at him intently. Then with a sigh, he broke eye contact and turned around.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier? I could have made you anything you asked for, even your favourite food.”
“Wha-” Rody jumped up in surprise. “Really!? You’d make potato gratin? Wait but how? You wouldn't have my Maman’s recipe.”
“Simple enough,” replied Vincent. A small smile graced the corners of his lips. “All I need is to find a cookbook with one in it. Sure, it won’t be exact but-” He cursed softly. “Ah darn. No more wine left.”

Vincent strode over to the cabinet once again. He reached for another bottle and began to open it.

“AH-” Rody looked up, surprised. There was a harsh cut on Vincent’s finger. It was bleeding. And judging by how fast blood was flowing out, Rody could tell it was a pretty deep cut.

Instinctively, Rody reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a white handkerchief and gave it to him.
“Here. Use this.”
Vincent stared at him blankly. “The same one I gave you.”
“I’m returning it. You probably have more use for it than I do, anyway.” He laughed uncertainly.

For a moment, there was only silence between them.
Then, “Thank you, Rody. I appreciate it.”

“Of course! Don’t mention it.” He smiled back at him, grinning.

Vincent smiled faintly. Then without warning, suddenly he clutched a hand to his head. “Argh. My head is killing me.” He stumbled over to his desk and sat back down.
“Are you alright, Vince?”
“I..I.. need to rest. Just…after I sit here for a while.” He folded the handkerchief around his finger, wrapping it tightly. Rody noticed the red seemed to be spreading. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘺? 𝘈𝘳𝘦𝘯’𝘵 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴?

“You should…go Rody. I think..I need some time alone..”
“Are you certain?”
For a moment, Vincent looked into his eyes.
There was something in Vincent’s eyes when Rody stared back. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦? 𝘖𝘳 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳..? 𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵..𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮? 𝘖𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘩?

It was a strangely odd feeling. But it became clear, almost unmistakable to Rody after a few seconds.

𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱.

Rody broke eye contact and nodded hesitantly.
“I, uh. I guess I’ll see you later, Vince.”
He turned around and walked away quickly. Not trusting himself to ask more questions. Because had he stayed any longer, oh he would have asked everything on his mind. And he knew Vincent wouldn't feel comfortable with that.

Just as he was about to reach the door, he felt something in his front pocket. It was a note. He unfolded it.

𝚂𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚌𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦-!?

Vincent must have slipped it into his pocket while they were standing close together. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯!? 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴- 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘩, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘦!

Rody began to feel like he was standing on the tip of the iceberg. And staring down was a deep, dark abyss. How far the bottom of the ice was, it was impossible to tell. Because that was how far away the truth still felt- even though he knew he was on the verge of discovering something groundbreaking.

_____________________________________________

𝗢𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆, 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗸𝗲𝘆 𝗥𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗼𝗯𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗱
𝘁𝗼 𝘂𝗻𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆.

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Notes:

The painting in Vince's study is 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘝𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦 by Eugene Delacroix