Truth

Thomas Williams viewed the world through a prism of parallel truths. There was the truth. Yet on the other half of the same coin; there laid a faraway truth. A truth yet to be discovered. Thomas Williams was the one who liked to discover these truths. He knew things about the world that others were blinded to, things to make your skin crawl. It made Thomas’s arm hairs stand like pins. 

Thomas was visiting a manor, owned by a wealthy family, one given to them by their wealthy grandfather who had passed. The manor was located in a town unknown by most, Thomas could barely find it on a map.

Why was he searching for this place? Did it hold some truth that Thomas was searching for? The answer was yes and no, it was complicated. The truth was that the grandfather who owned the manor, James Mathew contacted Thomas Williams. How? Thomas was what you would call a psychic, someone who could commune with those that were no longer living. Those who were stuck between two worlds. The ones stuck in limbo.

James Mathew recalled the events of his murder. He spoke of himself lying in his bathtub when it happened. He recalled drinking a brandy cocktail while smoking a cigar. The last thing he saw was a figure coming from behind him. James spoke of his last moment, before death. He told Thomas that he was strangled in his last moment. Strangled while he took the last sip from his cocktail.  

After hearing James pleading for help, begging for closure. Thomas knew he had to uncover the truth. He needed to get to the manor right away and find out which family member killed James Mathew. Thomas tried to find out more about the family. The only thing he could find was old records, deeds that were made over a hundred and fifty years ago. 

The manor was old, yet Thomas could not find any recent records regarding the manor, it was like a home lost to history. Thomas couldn’t even find a record of the family of James Mathew. The only and best thing he could do was to go to the manor itself and uncover the secret behind the murder. 

Chills ran through Thomas. He was standing at the manor doorstep, ready to knock. He took a breath, before slightly leaning into a knock. Thomas checked his wristwatch, waiting for a response. A minute passed, then two, a whole five minutes passed, no answer. Thomas examined his surroundings. The manor had clear marks of wear and tear. 

The manor looked like no one had kept anything up for years or maybe even decades. The more time passed. The more nervous Thomas became. He decided to knock again. The moment his knuckle reached the door, something unexpected happened.

The door creaked open. Thomas saw a sight of disbelief. The manor looked to be abandoned. The manor inside was untouched and unkempt. Thomas swallowed his spit, as he let his thoughts run wild. His lower intestine turned, he felt an inner freight, something trying to reach his mind. Thomas wanted to turn back, yet his search for truth was unwavering. He needed to know what happened. 

He had too many questions to turn back. Thomas took a few steps in before the door shut behind him. He jerked back to the door. Thomas tried to turn the handle, it was futile. The door was held shut like it had been nailed shut, if the door was iron it would have felt like it was welded shut.   

Thomas turned from the door. “I know one of you is doing this, so show yourself!” the manor laid quiet, not a sound to be made. The only sound was the breath of Thomas’s breath. Thomas was not scared, yet. Thomas knew a person of the dead was present. A person that died in the manor. 

A breeze went by Thomas, next to his ear. “Come to the basement, there lies the truth.” The voice of a woman called Thomas. Thomas was a man who always sought something. A man who sought the truth. He could not turn back. He didn’t want to turn back, at least not until he knew the truth of the manor. 

Thomas saw the door to the basement. The door was open. All Thomas had to do was walk through it, so he did. The stairs creaked with each step he took. He made his way down deeper and deeper. Until he took his last step down and turned the corner. 

The basement was a room with not much, it had a table. A table with a few tools. There were old hand saws. What struck Thomas was the shackles. Why would the owner of the house need shackles? Thomas thought to himself. 

“behind you.” The voice of the women from before spoke to Thomas. She spoke in a sweet gentle, soothing voice. Thomas put down the shackles that he was holding as he turned.

There stood a woman, man, and three children. The three children consisted of a boy who was the tallest, a girl who was shorter, and a child that looked to be no older than three. They had a chromatic neon blue aura manifested around them, with a secondary dark, shadow-like aura, mixed with crimson red swirling around them. The man looked like someone Thomas knew.     

“James?” Thomas asked. 

The man chuckled. The man transformed his appearance, growing himself in age. The man transformed into the man Thomas knew as James. “Yes, it is me, Thomas.” James took a bow. “Welcome to our manor, our home. The Mathew manor.” Thomas looked puzzled. 

“Why did you bring me? First off why did you lie?” Thomas looked around trying to find a way to escape. Looking for a way out. 

“Well to kill you of course” Thomas froze as he turned to look at the woman. She was the woman that spoke, not James. The women chuckled. “Excuse me, where are my manors. I am Jennifer Mathews and these little ones are our kids.” Thomas turned to the kids with wide eyes. 

“Mother drowned me, she also drowned my sister and drowned my little brother.” Thomas ran past The spirits. He made it two feet before Jennifer slammed Thomas to the wall. She held him, strangling him. Her nails scraped into his neck. Thomas screamed. 

“You see Thomas. I killed my children for a higher purpose. Now, look at them. They hold power, power greater than you or anyone else. God blessed them. But you see the folks out there in town. They didn’t understand. They called us names. What did

they call us honey?” Her head jerked back, like a twig snapping. 

“Oh, they called us monsters.” once finished her head jerked back. Her eyes were demonic, with a tint of crimson. 

“You hear that Thomas? They called us monsters. But look at them now, born anew.” Thomas’s face ran with tears, as he wept. 

“Please! Please! Don’t kill me.” Jennifer grew a smile. She wiped the tears from Thomas, with her tongue.  

“I can’t do that. You see Thomas. God, he blessed you. He blessed you with a gift. You can see us. We have been waiting a hundred and fifty years for this. With your power, with your flesh. We would be reborn anew.” Jennifer widened her mouth, exposing her layered gums. Each row exposing teeth that were raged and sharp. Thomas’s face quivered, trying to fight back. He kicked and stomped Jenifer as she came in close. 

James Mathew smiled methodically. He loved instilling fear into Thomas. The children repeated the same phrase. “Mother drowned me, she also drowned my sister and drowned my little brother.” They were but a hollow shell of what they once were. 

Thomas felt a tongue sliding on his face. His heart raced. Thought to himself. Was I really going to die? Thomas could fight it. He made peace with himself, relaxing his body. He looked to the sky, while he spoke an old saying. “Curiosity killed the cat.” I am that cat, he told himself. He was that cat. A cat that sought knowledge, even with every instinct in their fiber telling them to turn back. 

Thomas’s search for the truth was his undoing, As Jenifer’s monstrous mouth devoured Thomas, only leaving his bones behind. After that day Thomas was never heard from again. He was laid to rest, while a woman sat, rocking back and forth, while she sang. Singing in front of The Mathews manor. She as cradling a child in her arms.