The Burning of the Ryder Manor

‘Top of the morning to you, Felix.’ the dark grey Persian cat Inkhorn greeted the white poodle, Felix.

‘Oh morning, Inkhorn.’ the poodle looked up while realizing his heavy steps made the ancient oak floorboards creaking again. ‘Didn’t see you so high up there in the shadows, your kind work in stealth, you do, like them ninjas.’

‘Indeed, we do. So, up before the cockcrow, a rare sight indeed.’ Inkhorn jumped lower from the top of the bookcase to the flower stand without making a single sound.

‘Ay, I sleep less and less these days. Old age, I guess. The noises of the antique grandfather clock seem to get louder and louder to my liking. I remember them used to be melodious and soothing. Anyway, is the master awake yet?’ Felix asked.

‘His wont of turning up the radio failed to realize.’ Inkhorn tilted his head in curious contemplation.

‘Hmmm, curious. He’s still deep in slumber?’ Felix became surprised and a wee bit alarmed.

‘Ay, tosses and turns too.’ Inkhorn nodded. ‘With sweat-soaked and mangled bed sheets.’

‘Is he in pain?’ Felix became more and more concerned.

‘Undoubtedly. His countenance poignant and speech woefully apologetic. I grow weary by the hour and am fain to wake him.’ Inkhorn replied and was about to turn and enter the master's bedroom.

‘No, hold on. Let’s wait for a wee while longer, have patience.’ Felix said.

‘Patience? Patience won’t open my meat pouches nor tuna cans.’ Inkhorn snorted in agitation.

‘You are welcome to my biscuits. If you are hungry enough, you can always catch a mouse or something, can’t you? Isn’t that what nature’s course intended?’ Felix taunted.

‘Catch a mouse? I’m no feral! I am a thoroughbred from an upper-middle-class family and won’t be talked to like so.’ Inkhorn started a low hissing.

‘What are you talking about, you delusional peacock? Your upper-middle-class family? Your so-called upper-middle-class family abandoned you! Do I need to refresh your memory for you?’ Felix shook his head in disbelief.

‘Hisssssss, watch your words carefully! What are you insinuating?’ Two flames lit up in Inkhorn’s huge perfectly spherical eyes.

‘I am not insinuating, I am telling you in your ugly face! You, miserable ostentatious dotard, clapped in Narcissistic vanity!’ Felix cocked up his long furry neck. ‘I still remember the sorry state you were in when you came here. But, do you? Hmm? Did you really think master adopt you for your gaudy bourgeoisie swagger? No, he adopted you, hapless old wretch, out of love and benevolence, if not pity. Wake up! The chance of you ending up here living in relative comfort is largely due to pure luck. Anyway, is self-interest all you care about while the whole world is in turmoil?’

‘Don’t you ride your moral high horse and lecture me about the calamities of the world, you mongrel.’ Inkhorn hissed back. ‘I am up to date with the broadsheets and scientific literature on the development of the dire situation regarding the pandemic.’

‘Very well, you overbearing fool, suit yourself.’ A sudden burst of electronic melodies came on and started oscillating the floating dust in the air. ‘Oh, the radio is on, the master is awake!’ Felix went into a slow run and came into the master’s bedroom.

‘Hey, wait for me!’ Inkhorn followed closely behind.

‘Oh goodie! Look! He made a new leash out of a fine piece of safety cord! I think he’s gonna take me for a walk today! Jealous?’ Felix got into a merry mood as soon as he saw the long sturdy cord lying on the bed.

‘Oh no, no no no no no! That’s not a leash, you idiot! It’s a noose!’ Inkhor’s huge eyes dilated even larger.

‘A noose?’ Felix looked at Inkhorn in confusion.

‘Ay, a noose, as in hangman’s nooses at the gallows.’ Inkhorn stretched his neck mimicking chocking. ‘I’ve seen them in the illustrations of the thick history tomes from the study.’

‘But, but… I don’t understand. What does he need a noose for? Who is he gonna hang? Us? You reckon? But why?’ Felix started shaking uncontrollably in distress. ‘Have I done something terribly wrong? Have I? Or you?’

‘No, old chum, I don’t think this is about us.’ Inkhorn shook his head.

‘Surely, it’s not himself. We are in the middle of a lockdown due to a deadly virus, people are dying in hordes everywhere, he doesn’t need a noose to, to…’ Felix felt liking fainting and babbled on senselessly.

‘Shut up, just, shut the hell up for a second! This certainly looks ominous. I don’t like it whoever this is intended for. Least for himself.’ Inkhorn started walking forwards and backwards on the white alabaster window sill. ‘But why? Why would a well-to-do man living in security and comfort want to end his life while the rest of the world can hardly survive? This doesn’t make any sense.’

‘You care about the master, I knew it.’ Felix looked on with the faintest hope that Inkhorn may come to some solution to the grim circumstance.

‘Huh?’ Inkhorn was lost deep in thoughts for a moment and suddenly snapped out of it by the barking of Felix.

‘You are a loving creature, deep down, underneath the obnoxious facade.’ Felix replied with renewed compassion.

‘Errr, yes, that. And there’s a problem with the execution of the deed.’ As the master walked towards the bannister of the grand gallery with the noose in his hands, a sharp glint reflected in Inkhor’s eyes from the rays of the morning sun piercing through the gauzy white lace behind the thick crimson brocade curtains.

‘You lost me.’ Felix looked up. ‘You mentioned the method of execution? Care to elaborate?’

‘The weight.’ Inkhorn shook his head.

‘Yeah? What about it?’ Felix asked anxiously.

‘The head. It’s not gonna, ah… No, no, no, no, no, no. This is not gonna end well.’ Inkhorn meowed like a crazed feral cat, scratching the curtains and shredding them into little crimson strips.

‘I know, I know Inkhorn. But, what do we do?’ Felix nudged Inkhorn with his cold wet nose.

‘What can we do?’ Inkhorn snapped back. ‘It’s not gonna hold…’

When suddenly a thick dull thud was heard on the cold black marble floor at the bottom of the stairwell.

‘What’s that?’ Felix jumped, ‘Let me go check.’

‘No, don’t…’ Inkhorn shouted, knocking the still burning giant beeswax candle off the crystal stand. The flames caught the thick crimson curtains and shot up straight to the heavily decorated roof.

The entire manor went into a conflagration, parts of the roof and walls started to collapse and implode. Amidst the flames and thick smoke, two shadows dashed out and ran into the morning forest in a dark trail of grey smoke.